Loki steeled his jaw, not flinching even as Dalie’s face loomed dangerously close. How a deranged lunatic could excite him so, was beyond him. Even now his pulse quickened, arousal fogging his mind. What else did he have to lose, aside from the obvious? “I want you to fuck me like my exposed organs are the sexiest things you’ve ever seen,” he said plainly. Spending time on Midgard had it’s perks if their crude language could truly be appreciated. ”Then I want you to stitch my body back together. I don’t know if you are aware, but traveling after such a procedure can be rather difficult.”
Dalie acknowledged the request with decided silence at first, crimson eyes locked on the other’s for several seconds. He shifted weight from one foot to another, then stood still keeping to the silence that pierced the room. His stillness was abruptly changed when his bloodied hand rose up to snatch Loki’s neck and jaw with a striking force, gripping onto the soft flesh menacingly. He applied strength to his arm, forcing Loki to be lifted from the ground as Dalie moved forward, slamming Loki into the wall that was several feet away only seconds prior. “An odd request,” he said, his lips an inch from Loki’s chin. “What would Dalie gain from such?”
The vice grip around his throat almost startled him. It would have if he had not known to expect violence from his volatile companion, should he even be called such. Now Dalie’s palm pressed tight against his throat, restricting his breathing and stirring fear within the pit of his stomach, another influence to confound his condition.
His hand gripped Dalie’s, finger’s digging into his skin. He could survive without oxygen. It was one of the perks of being a god, but to be dangled in the air like that, unable to fill his lungs completely. It was startling how powerless it made him feel.
Loki squeezed his eyes shut as his back was slammed against the wall, both startled and exhilarated. He opened his eyes once more to peer down at the Jötunn’s blue visage, question still in the air. ”You have your own agenda, your own prize which you will take whether I give it or not. What I ask is for something in return,” he rasped. ”Does Dalie not understand the concept of a simple exchange?”
Dalie slowly lowered Loki just enough for the tips of his toes to touch the ground yet he kept Loki as pressed to the wall without total asphyxiation as possible. Once again, Dalie let silence come between them for what seemed like a long time before making any sort of further gesture or effort to speak. The only part of him that moved,—aside from the repetitive expansion and collapse of his chest as he breathed—was his eyes, scanning every inch of Loki, reading his behavior like a book. Finally, he tilted his head forward in such a way that his bottom jaw nearly sat on his own collarbone, his eyes never leaving Loki’s face. “This one knows exchange, though again the question would arise. What would Dalie gain from such?”
He snapped his hand away from Loki’s neck before Loki had the chance to speak a hoarse reply, eyes following Loki’s eye-level as he regained balance on his own two feet. Dalie shifted in position so his side faced Loki, giving one the impression he might turn and leave. Instead, he leaned against Loki, pressing Loki into the wall by his own hip against Loki’s lower torso. His bloodied hand rested on the side of the wall as he leaned. “Curious, this one is though,” Dalie started, narrowing his red eyes into slits as he spoke. “How would Loki like to get fucked?”
The ground was under Loki’s feet, teasing him. Then Dalie removed his hand from his throat and his heels dropped to meet it. His question lingered in the air unanswered as Loki leaned against the wall, breathing labored. His fingers brushed over the cut to find it was already scabbing over. The Jötunn wouldn’t like that. ”I do not profess to know your ways, Dalie. I have no idea what you would gain from our commingling.” Despite their positions his tone still remained conversational.
Dalie’s body language screamed disinterest, but he never seemed the type to communicate openly. He didn’t seem the type to lose interest, Loki concluded about the same time as the person in question rammed him with his hip, wedging him against the wall like before. His elbows bumped the wall, palms pressing flat against it. Then he was asked an odd question. How would he like to be fucked? Several images entered his mind. A smile tugged at his lips. ”Surprise me.”
Dalie distracted the god from his pain by pressing his cold lips on his neck. He proceeded to rub his lips down the crook of the god’s neck, finding insult in the cloths that hid his shoulder. Reaching up with his damaged arm, Dalie’s glove squeaked as he balled his hand into a fist around the neckline of the god’s upper garments and harshly pulled it over his shoulder to expose the skin that reacted to his own coldness.
He pulled his hip from Loki’s waist, creating a gap between them as he sucked on the tender flesh of Loki’s neck. His hand that rested on Loki’s shoulder slithered down his arm then found the god’s side. He dug his fingers into Loki’s torso in a tight squeeze as he leaned forward, rubbing his chest against Loki’s own, never once parting his lips from Loki’s neck.
He could tell how distracted still the god was by his own pain, such that Dalie only found amusing. His amusement in it was simply that he knew he wasn’t going to ease that pain any time soon. Instead, as his lips reached Loki’s jawline, his left hand met the wound on Loki’s side and his fingers vanished into it. He decided from there to increase the pain by spreading the fingers of his hand into the wound, likely tampering the delicate organs inside.
liefullyloki 