Written to: Constant Conversations - Passion Pit, crosspost from AO3. Happy Birthday to me - 19y/o, and patiently waiting for my starter shipment of cats to begin my quest for the crazy cat lady title.
Naology: The study of sacred buildings.
"This is sacrilegious," Loki hisses as Thor lifts him up onto the altar. "I don't even know what manner of animals have been killed on this thing."
Thor rolls his eyes as he frees himself of his breeches and clambers up on top of Loki, pressing him against the cold stone of the Asgardian chapel's altar. "Probably lots of things, love," he says with a grin as he begins to unlace Loki's trousers. "Here, sit up, I can place my cloak under you so that your precious skin won't become stained by the ghostly blood of sacrifices past."
Loki snorts, but sits up and allows Thor to spread his scarlet cape out over the cold stone before lying back down.
"That does nothing to change the fact that you have forcibly dragged me here to engage in licentious activities," Loki mutters, but he can't stop the blush that begins to creep across his face as Thor taps two thick fingers against his lips, as he opens his mouth obediently to roll his tongue around the pair of digits to coat them.
"Think of it as a study," Thor says, grinning mischievously at Loki as he reaches underneath him and gently works his fingers into him.
"A study?" Loki wants to laugh, but it gets choked off in a moan. "A study in what, exactly?"
"A study in the sturdiness of Asgardian sacrificial altars," Thor clarifies, hitching one of Loki's legs over his shoulder and pressing hot, velvet, rough into him. Loki bites at the back of his hand to stifle a cry as Thor bottoms out in him. "Midgard does not have these. They merely have those pools of water. Perhaps they drown their sacrifices in them."
Loki flushes hot, remembering the incident at the Vatican fifty or so years ago. The pope, upon finding them with entangled limbs in the baptismal font, had passed out and smacked his head rather hard against the tile. Thor had been rather concerned about the old man, but Loki had dragged them out of the chapel, cloaks dripping, telling a passing archbishop that the pope appeared to have fainted.
Loki sighs, shudders against Thor as Thor rocks deep into him, pressing kisses to Loki's inner knee.
"This is ridiculous," he says, laughing breathily as pleasure shudders up his spine. "Absolutely, positively ridiculous."
Thor grins, leans down to press a kiss to Loki's mouth, and agrees.