Rough fingers trickle into Loki's mane of raven hair. His skin is coated with a cold sweat as bumps sprout from his neck and scalp.
He lifts a weak hand in protest. "Don't." Thor commands. And Loki listens. Would he have obeyed if it weren't for his current state? He doesn't know. And Thor doesn't know. And it scares him.
The coarse fingers draw away from his black locks, traveling to his own trembling hands. Thor has his wrists pinned to the back board. Loki doesn't strain a muscle.
"Thor, please, I—" there are slight gleams of sweat across his forehead and a sickly quiver in his lips. Thor sees and knows he is afraid. Loki doesn't beg and plead easily. Loki's eyes do not widen in surprise at many things at all. He needs a push.
Thor slides a hand over Loki's ribcage, holding him in place without using much force. Loki makes a strange noise somewhere in between pleasure and resistance. Thor's eyes travel forward at the noise, noting his expressions and trying to match his winces with the area he touches. He caresses the curve of Loki's side and feels him shiver.
"Do not be afraid, Loki." And at the mention of his name, only in Thor's throaty voice, his muscles tighten. "I will not hurt you."
The blood rushes back to his face and his fingers uncurl, his body relaxes only slightly.
"Don't…" he manages after a slow silence. "t-touch me." Thor releases his wrists in surprise. Loki draws them in close, massaging them deeply. His face crumples but Thor catches him with a hard kiss. They have kissed before but those were innocent. Experimental, even. This is different. It's bitter and wet. Don't misunderstand, it is satisfying. It is full. Thor claims him after what seems like an eternity of toying with him. What makes him tick?
It had been a long time since they had kissed.