Written to: Feel Again - OneRepublic, crosspost from AO3
Kalon: Beauty that is more than skin-deep.
It is a stolen moment in the midst of several very busy days that Thor finally manages to pin Loki down to their bed and love him.
"Norns above," Thor mutters into the hollow of Loki's throat, and Loki makes this strangled sound that most definitely isn't a whimper as Thor bites kisses and strokes promises into his skin, "is this what we've come to? Rolling in the sheets like animals?"
Loki laughs - wants to laugh - because the fact that it is Thor saying this is completely, absolutely absurd, but in one rapid movement Thor is seated firmly inside him and he opens his mouth around his moan as Thor begins to move, back forth back forth, relentless, furious, rough so Loki is sure he will feel the ache in his bones for weeks.
"Ymir's eyes," Thor mutters against the inside of Loki's knee from its position on his shoulder, "is this what Lady Gwen has been complaining about? Busy, busy, exams and tests and homework," Thor scoffs, rolls his hips deep inside Loki and Loki doesn't whine, that can't be him, can it? - "Because a ruler certainly must understand mathematical theorems and economies. Of. Scale." Thor punctuates the last three words with harsh, deep thrusts that Loki swears he can feel all the way in his throat.
Thor lets his lips linger on the inside of Loki's knee, and Loki wants to scream at him, so close, wants to beg him to keep moving instead of this heavy inertia, but he seems to have misplaced his voice, and his thoughts don't manage to make it into words.
"Your skin is softer here," Thor muses. "Why is that?"
He looks down at Loki, quivering and boneless in the sheets, his cock an angry red against the milky skin of his stomach, makes it abundantly clear that he will not resume their activities until Loki has produced a satisfactory answer.
Loki swallows, once, twice, narrows his eyes as he convinces his mouth to form the syllables of coherent conversation.
"Lotion," he explains after a few tries. "Midgardians like to use it so their skin will be softer. Softer skin is more attractive."
Thor rolls his eyes, rolls his hips in a thrust that has Loki nearly tearing the sheets beneath his fingertips.
"Norns, Loki," he mutters, leaning down and littering Loki's neck with bruises, "can you not see I adore you relentlessly? If your skin were all scarred and bruised and rough, that would be perfectly fine as well. You're lovely, inside and out, all the way through."
Loki wants to ask Thor what poetry book he's ripped that one out of, but the words don't make it through his throat and choke him and for the first time, he thinks he is crying as he comes.