A/N COULSON LIVES! I've been watching Agents Of SHIELD, what about you? Oh, and I am sorry for disappearing for, what, more than two months? I just lost my motivation to write, and I found it physically impossible to continue my stories. I wrote this ages ago, so don't be surprised if you don't hear from me again for a while. I'll most likely be trying to climb over that big ol' writer's block.
PS this was originally going to be the first of a series I was going to call "Avengers Fetishes", but for now, it'll remain as a oneshot. It's kind of short but . . . I hope you like it.
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The God of Mischief wakes up to the smell and sound of meat sizzling on a stove, the scent drifting from the kitchen through to his room. He stretches languidly, reaching his arms up until his shoulders pop. Glancing to the side, he sees that the spot on the bed next to him is empty, the sheets neatly pulled up to the pillow, the creases having been smoothed out by large, gentle hands.
Well, this is what Loki assumes, as his brother – now his lover – had slept with his last night, and whenever he does, he always makes the bed after he gets up the next morning. It's unnecessary, because Loki can easily use his magic to right the covers, but it is sweet nevertheless.
"Thor?" Loki calls out, suspecting his lover is the one responsible for the unfamiliar but lovely aroma he can smell.
"Good morning, brother." Thor calls from the kitchen. He appears in the doorway a second later. "I have made breakfast."
"Hmmm." Loki hums suspiciously, and Thor smiles.
"Are you not hungry?"
"Oh, I am, but your idea of breakfast is a packet or six of Pop-Tarts. Forgive me for being suspicious." Loki smiles back, and beckons Thor over.
The blonde obeys happily, and when he gets to the bed, he leans over Loki, his hands either side of the trickster as he leans in with a grin.
"I assure you, it is not Pop-Tarts. I have cooked bacon, eggs and hash brown." Thor leans closer and kisses Loki's jaw.
"And what is bacon?" Loki tilts his chin up slightly, to give Thor better access to his neck.
"It is meat, and comes from a Midgardian animal called a pig. It is most delicious. Taste it."
Thor moves his lips to Loki's, and pushes his tongue into Loki's mouth. The dark haired man instantly tastes this "bacon", the flavour having lingered in Thor's mouth from moments ago when he "taste-tested" the food. Loki moans against his lover's mouth and wraps an arm around his neck to pull him down further.
"Forget the bacon, I would prefer to devour you instead." He says between hungry kisses.
"But our food will get cold." Thor pulls back with a pretend pout, which Loki imitates, causing Thor to laugh and kiss Loki's nose.
"Fine." Loki huffs. "Let's go eat. But if I am too full to even move afterwards, you only have yourself to blame."
Thor helps Loki out of bed, and with their arms wrapped around each other's waists; they head into the kitchen, where Thor has placed two plates of food on the table. One plate has a few pieces of bacon, two hash browns and an egg. The other plate is heaped up with food, and is obviously Thor's breakfast.
Loki smiles at the way Thor immediately tucks into his food, gulping it down, while Loki allows himself time to actually chew. And then Thor stabs a piece of bacon with his fork, lifts it to his mouth, sucks on the crispy meat before shovelling it all into his mouth, and Loki finds himself aroused. Aroused by the sight of Thor eating bacon, and the glorious smell of said meat. Most peculiar, and yet Loki finds himself closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
"Is something wrong, Loki?" Thor asks from across the table.
"No, I am fine." Loki does not open his eyes.
"How is your bacon?" Thor questions, and for some reason Loki feels warmth pooling in his stomach.
"Say it again." He orders.
"Bacon?"
"Yes." Loki breathes.
"Um . . . bacon." Thor repeats, and Loki's eyes flash open.
"Thor, come back to bed with me." He says, standing up and walking around the table.
"But . . ." Loki silences his brother with a single, passionate kiss, moaning as the flavour of bacon bursts on his tongue again.
Loki pulls away, grabs hold of Thor's arm and gently tugs him from his chair onto his feet, only to kiss him again. When Thor reaches down, he feels that Loki is already hard, and eagerly follows his brother back to their room, but then stops just outside the door.
"What is it?" Loki basically whines, anxious to get their clothes off as soon as possible.
"I do not want our food to get cold." Thor gives a fleeting glance back at the table, before looking at his lover with big, pleading blue eyes.
Loki thinks for a moment, his gaze flicking from Thor to the table, and back again. The trickster grins devilishly, a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
"Bring the bacon."
