A/N: Hello, dear readers! Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter. They help me know I'm still on the right track with this. And now...Our Saturday with Stoki continues...

Disclaimer: Marvel still owns these characters. I just happen to love them together.


Steve has Loki put back on the pajama pants after their bath. He wants to do a sketch of the god partially clothed. The artist, also wearing pajama bottoms, moves one of the chairs near the window. He opens the blinds part of the way. The sun is streaming through them at a fantastic angle. He has Loki sit backwards, straddling the chair with his arms folded over the top of the backrest and facing away from the window.

The sunlight against the blinds creates a pattern that plays across Loki's back. It's beautiful, and the artist is mesmerized by it for a few moments.

"Captain, is this how you want me?"

Steve blinks. The words filter through his brain. He smiles. "Loki, I want you in every way imaginable. But for now…" The artist walks over and arranges the god's arms and head. He takes the other chair and experiments with its placement. It takes a few minutes, but Steve finally finds the best viewing angle. He retrieves the sketchpad and the tin with his drawing tools and sits down.

The artist weighs the pros and cons of charcoal versus pencil. Pencil wins. He looks at his subject again. "Shift your body a little to the left. Perfect." Pencil meets paper, and the artist goes into the zone.

Loki is at an angle that allows him to look at Steve only out of the corner of his eye. He does this every so often. "Have you always drawn?" he asks after a long silence.

"Since I was a kid. It was a way to escape."

"Ah." Loki confesses, "Books and magic were mine."

"What did you have to escape?"

"Expectation. It sounds…inconsequential, I know. But when everyone wishes you to be more like Thor…"

"Is that why you hate him?"

Loki's eyes lock onto the artist. "I never hated Thor. I loved him. Everyone loved him. Even now, no matter what he does, no matter whom he hurts, everyone continues to love him…including me. Try living in the shadow of that sometime."

Steve concentrates on his drawing. He didn't realize how lonely the image on the paper looks until now. He finishes it quickly, wanting to move on to something they'll both enjoy a little more…even it if may not be quite as truthful.

"You can move now, Loki. I'm done with this one."

"May I see it?" he asks as he rises from the chair. Steve hands him the drawing. He stares at it for a long moment. "Is this truly how you see me?"

"At that moment…yes."

Loki hands it back, his gaze focused on the ground. "What next?"

"Ropes. A blindfold. Arms tied above your head. Your exposed chest dripping blood from a single cut over your heart."

Green eyes rise to meet blue, a mixture of gratitude and pain mixed within them. Wrists are placed together and held out towards the artist.

Steve retrieves the duffel from under the bed and finds all of the other things they stashed there earlier that morning. He leaves them be. He takes two strands of rope and one of the handkerchiefs out of the bag and returns to the god. The artist lovingly ties Loki's wrists together using the second rope as a really long tail. Then he walks behind his subject and secures the handkerchief over the green eyes. "I almost hate to cover them up," he says as he knots the cloth.

The loss of one of his senses makes Loki both nervous and excited. He is guided to a wall, and his back is pressed against it. Strong hands lift his arms straight over his head. He hears movement and squeaking and feels the long tail of the rope rise until it pulls up on his wrists. There is the sound of more movement, but his wrists remain secure. Then there are several long moments of nothing but footsteps retreating and returning before he feels a hand on his neck. Lips press against his briefly but firmly just before a sharp pain slices the left side of his chest. A short, distinct groan escapes his lips.

Loki can feel the blood from the fresh wound drip down over his skin.

"God you are beautiful," the artist muses before resetting his chair and tools. Charcoal is used this time. Charcoal is strong, messy, immediate. It is stark against the paper. "Lift your head up. You are proud. Nothing can break you."

The Trickster's chin rises slightly. He must be beautiful if the artist believes him to be.

Steve eyes the pajama pants, wonders if the god should be naked. He walks up to the blindfolded man and tugs them gently down just enough to expose more of the hipbones. He steps back. Yes, that's better. It's alluring, seductive, but still covering the most coveted parts. It is a perfect representation of Loki.

The artist returns to his drawing. The strokes are bold, kinetic. Every so often, Steve will close his eyes, remembering what it had felt like to glide his palms over the god's chest. He uses the memory to shape his drawing. When he is finished, and this one doesn't take long, his fingers are almost black from the charcoal. Steve washes his hands in the bathroom before returning to the god.

"Are you finished?" Loki asks when he hears the water. He gets no verbal answer, though he does hear the water turn off and the Captain's footsteps coming nearer. There is a sharp tug on the cloth covering his privates, and he is suddenly naked. Two strong hands grasp his hips just before a tongue runs over the tip of his cock. Loki shudders. "Steve?"

The reply is a wet, teasing kiss to Loki's navel. The hands on his hips slide down over the god's outer thighs then up the insides of his legs. They are pushed farther apart before fingers begin playing in the course hair between them. Loki feels a firm touch run along the underside of his penis, and he can feel the blood beginning to race towards his lower body.

"Captain," he sighs. All touch leaves him. He's alone in the darkness…again. "Captain?" Nothing. Loki begins to panic. Softer now, "Steve?" Relief courses through him as a gentle touch glides over his stomach. "Steve." A second touch joins the first, this one runs over his right leg. "Steve." His testicles are fondled then abandoned for the inner thigh.

"Steve," the god says stronger than before. His cock is stroked. "Darling," Loki moans just before a tongue again licks the tip of his dick then runs along his shaft. A tremble travels through his body. "Oh, Steve." No more tongue, only the touch of firm fingers.

"Darling?"

A mouth envelops half his manhood, the tongue moving sinfully.

The Trickster's arms are aching, and the rope is cutting into his wrists. His breath is labored as the darkness heightens every sensation. He rolls his head back as the mouth slides to the very end of his dick and starts sucking with unbelievable force. His body is stroked and massaged, causing tremors across his skin. "Darling," he moans. "Oh my sweet Darling."

The mouth releases his cock and travels up his body in wet kisses. Firm strokes replace the almost torturous sucking between his legs. The sucking has moved to his neck, and the second touch is pinching his nipple and providing a glorious pain.

"My Darling Steve, don't ever stop."

A firm kiss covers Loki's lips. A tongue probes between his teeth, stifling the moans that are beginning to rise from his throat.

The god's mouth is released, and he feels skin against his face and arm. There is a whisper playing along the side of his face. "Come for me, Kitten." The tugs and strokes to his dick are making that ever more likely.

"More, Darling. I need more," he apologizes.

A tongue runs along the cut over his chest as his cock continues to be stimulated. There are teeth around his other nipple now, holding it in place while that wet muscle they contain darts playfully against it.

The god's body is swaying, leaning into each touch, pressing against the wall with the moans that begin to escape his throat. His nipple is released, and the whisper comes again in warm, sensuous breath. "Come for me, Kitten."

Loki's orgasm begins with a primal cry that is immediately stifled by his lover's lips and tongue. His pelvis bucks his cock into the hand still groping and stroking and rousing him even as semen streams out.

The darkness is glorious with a mouth pressed over his and hands that electrify his skin. Then it all leaves him again for a brief moment before a hand glides down the side of his face.

"My beautiful Kitten," a familiar voice says. "Shall I untie you?"

The god is still coming down off his orgasm, his breaths deep and his heart pumping. "Only if you wish it, my Darling. But," Loki hesitates. "May I see your face or feel your touch? Please?"

The Trickster feels a single finger press against the top of his sternum and glide down his chest.

"Thank you."

The blindfold is removed. But it takes a few moments of getting used to the light before he can fully open his eyes.

"There they are," Steve says smiling warmly. "I missed those green beauties."

"They missed you," he replies taking in the blond hair, the brilliant blue eyes, the innocent face that turns his insides to goo.

"Hopefully not too much. Do your arms hurt?"

"Dreadfully."

"Good." The artist steps back and looks at his creation. "Hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'll order pizza." He walks to the front door then turns to look at Loki. "Do you think the pizza guy would be able to see you hanging there?"

"Not if you were careful." The Trickster smiles. "Or you could simply cover me with a sheet."

Steve decides to just be careful. He calls the pizza place then removes the items from under the bed. He throws out the pudding and whipped cream as the god watches, his arms aching from remaining above his head.

Thirty minutes later, Steve is feeding Loki a slice of pepperoni and mushroom as the god continues to hang.