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Loki was already bored with driving. It was not one of his vices. He liked a fast car as much as the next man, but when he was not in control, it was lame as hell. That was where his driving differed from his sex. Otherwise, he approached both the same: eager, wanting to try everything, and having no problems borrowing someone else's. Whether it was a lover or a car, he was fine to swap any and all, except for Loki and his '84 camaro iroc. Those were just parts of what he was, not belongings kept based on what they were worth.

As Thor spoke of going out to a lake, all sorts of ideas came to mind for Loki. It had been a long time since they had done anything outside. In fact, bathroom skirmishes, if that was the proper thing to call them, had become far more frequent. He did not mind, but at times, it could get tiring and boring. He preferred open spots, where the whole world could see that though Thor could fuck anybody, he chose Loki.

Touching his lips as he looked in the mirror, he imagined them swollen, bruised from too much kissing. His fingertips brushed over his cheek, imagining it much the same, but from something a bit sweeter than a kiss and a bit more solid, such as a fist. He had to admit, he liked when Thor hit him. Still watching his reflection in the side view, he smiled as he caressed his own neck, imagining the abrasions and marks that would mar it from harsh bites. Oh, he could hardly wait until it was all real. Even if it was not what Thor had in mind, it was going to get what he wanted. He loved himself more than Thor, so he could push to get it.

"Have you ever gotten road head?" Loki asked, not bothering to confirm that any plans Thor made would work fine for him. He was Thor's to do with as he pleased, so long as his own needs were not neglected. If Thor wanted to drag him to ten different places, he had no problem with that, at all.

Thor was silent for a moment, and Loki wondered if he was searching his memory or debating telling a lie. Loki knew he had never done it for Thor. It was not often that they were on unpopulated roads. Back when they had lived in the small town together, the two had never thought to try it, since even a light touch led to a solid fuck. Back then, there had been no teasing, no taunting, just pleasure found in their living reflections.

Finally, Thor answered, "No. I had to think back."

"You did?" Loki asked, genuinely surprise. Chuckling, he ran his hand down Thor's arm and murmured, "I did not." Kissing his shoulder, as he undid his belt, he added, "I can remember everything we've ever done." Looking out the windows to assure himself that they were on a decent road, he kissed Thor's neck and murmured, "I don't even remember the hair color of some of the people I have been with, but I remember us."

"I can not see," Thor informed Loki, the car slowing down as he let up off of the gas.

Smirking, Loki nipped Thor's neck before saying, "Then let me get out of your line of sight."

Shifting, he bent down so that his head was level with Thor's chest. His fingers quickly undid the front of Thor's pants, undoing the button and zipper quickly. His fingers wrapped around the warm length of his lover's cock, and slowly, he began to caressing it, bringing it to attention with his soft, sensual menstruations. Before long, Thor's dick was almost erect, which was all Loki needed to work with.

"You will not be able to say no after this," he informed Thor, his voice purposefully husky. Flicking his tongue out over the head, he swirled it around. The feel and taste were familiar, but in a way that was refreshing. He could have anyone, and he wanted only one. As long as Thor never grew boring, he would always love him.

Slowly, he trailed his tongue down the heated skin, before brushing kisses back up. His lips and tongue traveled over Thor's cock, stimulating and caressing it, drawing more blood to it. Once it was fully erect, Loki looked at it with adoration. He had seen it so many times, but it was still so beautiful. It was rare to meet someone with a truly lovely dick, but he was pleased his lover was one of them. Of course, he was too, so he was not so silly to think that Thor was blessed. No, they were both just lucky.

Getting his eyeful, he decided to reward Thor. Around him, the car roared with life, steadily picking up speed. Whether Thor was getting heavy footed from distraction or just wanted the ultimate high, Loki decided he wanted to go faster. He did not have to see to know that they were flying down the road. It was amazing. They could crash and die, and he would not have minded one bit.

Once more, kisses were brushed all over the heated skin, coupled with clever flicks of his tongue, just irregular enough that Thor could not brush it off as a pattern. He wanted the attention torn between himself and the road. Death was always a great aphrodisiac for both of them. Just when his lips were getting sore, he went to the head and parted his lips. His tongue slid around the head once again, but this time, his head lowered, his lips encompassing the tip. One hand pinned his hair back, while the other wrapped around the base of Thor's cock. He was not going to get him off, oh no. He would drag him to the edge and stop, just so that Thor would fuck him raw later.

Slowly, tauntingly, he lowered his head, hollowing his cheeks and flicking his tongue over the skin that he could reach. The muscle in his mouth writhed with effort to touch every centimeter of skin that he drew in. He slowly continued to lower himself until his lips met his hand, and then slowly, he rose back up, his hand following. At the tip, his hand lowered again quickly, while his tongued took the time to idly trace over the head before following slowly. Over and over again, he repeated this process, picking up speed and taking breaks to caress Thor's testicles or switch the side his own hair was leaning towards. It was all about teasing, and he could hear the squeak of leather against Thor's hands as he clutched the steering wheel roughly.

"Fuck," Thor grunted above him, and his cheeks flamed with a pleased smile. He knew he was doing a good job, and he intended to make Thor moan, make him into a little bitch. Just the idea was a coak rush, making him moan around Thor's cock, which elected a decidedly less clear sound from his lover.

Within moments, they were, Thor began to pant, struggling to keep control of both himself and the car. They were going so fast that the wind could be heard against the car, and Loki felt himself being pushed back into the seat. Resisting it, he continued working, sucking and licking, his hand moving deftly to drag Thor towards the edge, and it all broke at once.

Thor moaned and let up off of the gas, switching instead to the break as he headed towards a field. There were still crops in it, but he did not really care. The barreled off the road and to a stop just as Thor undid his buckle and spun on Loki. Jerking him up, he kissed him roughly, pushing him back. The front seat was almost too small, but Loki could hear Thor lowering his seat. Knowing what was going to be asked of him, he began to undo his pants.

Just in time, Thor ordered, "Ditch the pants and get your ass over here." His hands were still rough on Loki's cheeks, kissing him hard.

Already, he was wiggling out of them, struggling to kiss Thor back as he did so. Finally, he kicked them off and scrambled to straddle Thor's lap. His hands rested on Thor's shoulders as he kissed him hard, waiting for the command against his lips. He wanted it, wanted to obey and listen and be told what to do. Yes, he had made Thor his bitch by getting a moan, but he would always be the slut out of the two of them.

He was not sure if he was more shocked or disappointed when he felt a cool, slick finger at his entrance. He had not expected Thor to take the time to prepare him, but he was not going to complain. Instead, he arched to rub back against the finger. He rationalized that it was out of selfishness. Fucking dry was rough on both of them, especially in such tight quarters.

"Fuck," Loki gasped weakly as Thor's long fingers found the spot that always drove him crazy. A bit twisted was the fact that he chose to draw away, wanting to feel the real thing against that spot, not clever fingers that could make him cum all too quickly.

"If you insist," Thor murmured, kissing Loki again. His fingers moved, his other hand coming up, and he help Loki's cheeks apart as Loki lowered himself onto Thor's erection. A soft sound escaped him as his fingers dug into Thor's shoulders, and he thought that this position was absolutely his favorite. It was not just because of how close they were, but because of how it felt. It seemed to reach so very deep into him, touching parts of him that were never touched. Before he could get himself adjusted, he was ordered, "Move."

Slowly, he started grinding, moving just enough to tease them both. It was obedience and a challenge at the same time. Rather than repeat himself, Thor did what he always did: he took control. His hands switched to cupping Loki's thighs, and he roughly pulled him up before forcing him back down. A gasp escaped Loki and he struggled against it, fighting just because he knew that was what Thor wanted. Thor responded by getting rougher, his fingers bruising against Loki's skin as he pulled him up and forcing him back down. Their bodies began to move more violently, and as they sped up, they bit each other, their lips soon bloody and their necks decorated with bruises that would be even brighter in the day light.

Soft sounds escaped both of them, moans, whimpers, gasps, ragged breathing, and a groan every so often. Both were prone to dirty talking, but neither said a thing as they fucked in the tight space, Thor continuing to force Loki and Loki continuing to only make each motion rougher on both of them. The mix of pain and pleasure was all that they knew, all they had ever known, and it was more than good enough.

"I am close," Loki whispered, his eyes drifting shut. No one but Thor could make him cum just from anal stimulation, but there was no one quite like Thor in any aspect. It was better than any porn to watch Thor's reaction and body as he rode him.

Suddenly, Loki wanted to be somewhere more open, wanted to be at the lake. It drove him to hurry. Rather than resisting, he moved with Thor, tightening his body around his lover's cock, and speeding them both along. The feeling of Thor thrusting up to meet him came like a reward for compliance. With a soft cry of pleasure as that part of him that always ached for touch was struck roughly, he felt himself coming every closer, and only a few thrusts finished him. As he cam, he felt Thor continue to thrust up into him. He only ground back against him, not wanting to waste more energy. They had places to be and people to see, so it was senseless to waste all of his strength in one good shag, though Thor did not need much more before he moaned softly and released his seed.

Sliding off of him, Loki kissed Thor soundly and told him almost impudently, "I will not be helping if you got the car stuck."

Thor tucked his still half stiff cock back into his pants before cutting Loki a look. Loki was sprawled over the seat, using his pants to cover the seat, rather than putting them on again. He knew that a few pairs of clothing were in the trunk, so he would change once they were back in a public place.

Fortunate smiled on both of them, as the car was not stuck. Thor backed out with no problems, and they both went on their way, laughing at the money that their little game would doubtlessly cost the owner of the field. They joked as they drove, Loki bitching about how cold it was, but refusing to turn on the heat, and Thor complained about the mess that they had already made of his car, because he knew he would have to be the one to clean it up. Both found amusement in the other's unhappiness. Their love for each other was not always the sweetest or purest, but it was eternal. It would not die until they had.

"I want to move," Loki declared suddenly as they pulled off of the road onto a dirt path. The car rocked and leapt, each bump seeming a million times more severe.

Thor glanced at him briefly. Rather than ask why, he inquired, "How do you propose we get all of those mirrors out?"

Shrugging, Loki rolled the window down so he could tilt his head back. "I don't care. We could leave them. I love collecting new ones."

"Except new ones cost money, and bartenders don't make enough money to randomly decide to move," Thor told him, his tone biting. Loki knew it was not sincere, knew it would just take a bit of prompting to get his way.

"So, what do you think of going to Michigan?" Loki asked, not put off by Thor's snappishness. The two would fight, maybe scream at each other a bit, possibly exchange blows, and then go where ever Loki decided that they would go.

Even the darkness, Loki could see Thor roll his eyes, still more focused on driving than anything. "I hate it."


"Because, I don't want to move."

"I do."

"So go."

Well, that was a new one. Normally, Thor would not tell Loki to go, mostly became both of them had silently accepted that they were damned and doomed to be friends until neither of them was breathing. Loki knew that if Thor died, he would go to the cemetery where his ass was buried and pour a beer on his grave every once in a while, talking to him even though he could not respond. He always assumed Thor would do the same for him, at least until he joined him. Should either of them die, the other would live on and remember them. They were too great to be forgotten all at once.

Shrugging, he turned away from Thor, deciding to let himself be angry. "Fine. Maybe I will."

"No you will not," Thor told him, a smirk so apparent in his voice.

Loki's eyes narrowed into a glare, and he shifted farther away before demanding, "Oh really?"

"Because if you did, I would hunt you down, beat you, and then drag you back."

Loki never had to wonder why he loved Thor when he heard things like that. Smiling to himself, he turned and gave Thor a kiss on the cheek.

Thor pulled away and gave him a sour look. Almost sounding angry, he scolded him, "That should not make you happy, you fucking freak."

"Fuck you, you want my freaky ass," Loki snapped, climbing out of the car. It was still moving forward, but they had been steadily going slower, so he managed not to stumble. Stretching luxuriously, he felt the now cool liquid slid down his legs. A shudder of revulsion shook him, but his eyes had already caught the moon's glint over the lake, and he quickly started in that direction.

Behind him, he heard the car stop and Thor climb out. He did not wait, but sped up instead. He would let Thor catch up to him. There was something decidedly fun about streaking across a stranger's property with no pants. Stripping out of his jacket and shirt, he cast them aside so that he was completely naked, a streak of pale flesh towards the dark water that eagerly awaited to embrace him. The air was cold, and he knew that the water would be more so, but he was still shocked at the chill as he splashed in.

"Fuck!" he shouted loudly, more for Thor's sake than anything else. He knew his friend would be laughing at him, and he did not care. Instead, he splashed farther in, and the cold encased his calves, thighs, and then all the way up to his waist. He shouted again from the chill, before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to dive under.

Completely submerged, he felt as if the water were somehow warmer. His own body seemed to be willing to drift away in the chill, so he did not move, just floated a few inches from the surface. The air in his lungs drew him up, and the need for more made him lift his head. The air was like a freezing touch to his skin, knocking the air out of him as he desperately tried to draw it in.

"Loki, get out before you get sick," Thor called, not sounding the least bit concerned. When Loki turned towards the shore, he saw a small blanket spread out, his jacket and shirt neatly folded on one edge, and a towel waiting in Thor's hands.

"Come in and get me!" Loki shouted back, sinking down so that all but his head was covered. Propelling himself backwards, he went farther into the icy embrace. The lake was just deep enough that in the dead center, his feet did not touch bottom. Otherwise, he could easily navigate it with his feet.

Considering that Loki was not the best of swimmers, it was probably foolish for him to splash around in the dark, when his body was screaming in protest of the cold. However, he paid it little attention, enjoying the way the chill made his heart want to stop.

Thor let him have his for for some time before calling again, "If you don't get out right now, there will be no sex for the rest of the week."

That pulled Loki up by the short hairs.

As if he had just heard Thor's calls, he turned towards the shore and waved before beginning to hastily make his way back over. He was not wholly ruled by his desire for sex, but when it was a week without it, he was not keen. Had it been Friday or maybe even Thursday, he would have risked, it but it was Tuesday, and he was not ready to face a sexless week. Once he was old and feeble and sick, he might be more willing to go without, but until then, he would dance to Thor's drum.

Making it to the short, he realized how desperately he did not want to get out. The cold was almost insufferable, and he was never the bravest person when it came to being cold. Thor knew this and took pity on him, bringing himself and the towel to the edge of the water. Taking a moment to brace himself first, Loki sprang to his feet and bolted over to Thor, wrapping himself up in the blanket and then pushing himself against Thor's chest.

Instead of pushing him away, which Thor had probably considered doing, he wrapped his arms around Loki and held him close. It took a moment for Loki to stop shivering, but almost as soon as he did, his cold lips found their way to Thor's neck. Wanting to be certain that he had moved quick enough to not be denied, he kissed and nipped the sensitive skin that joined Thor's neck and shoulder, knowing that it drove him wild.

He nearly panicked when Thor shifted away. However, he was quickly reassured that he was not being denied as Thor kissed him on the lips, tracing a pattern to his ear, and whispered, "You're cold. Let me warm you up."

"Are you cold, Nicolas?"

Looking at his father, the young boy mutedly shook his head. He was bundled from head to toe in winter clothes, a heavy jacket, padded pants, winter boots, and long johns underneath with mittens on his small hands and a beanie on his head. He had never felt warmer in all of his life. Of course, with only three years behind him, that was not hard to believe.

Smiling, seeming reassure, the man took Nicolas's hand and lead him towards the park. They had just moved into the area, but Nicolas already knew the way to the park. His father took him there in the afternoons and his mother took him there in the mornings. On weekends, the family did something else, except this time. This time it was Saturday and they were going to the park. While the names of the days did not really matter to his young mind, he knew that they were off schedule and it seemed odd to him.

"This will not take long and then we'll go get hot chocolate, okay? I just want you to meet somebody," the man told his quiet son. Since the day Nicolas had been born, he had never been very noise, steadily growing quieter as he got older. Though he seemed intelligent, he had not uttered a single word in his life. If he wanted something, he quietly and politely tug on his mother or father's sleeve and then point it out for them to see. If they continued to ignore him, he would just wait. It always bothered them, but Nicolas did not want to speak, so he simply would not.

The walk to the park was not a long one. They lived in a small housing community on the outskirts of an even smaller town. There was a playground in the center of it for the residents to use. Beyond the playground was a lightly wooded area with walking paths and benches, all beautifully arranged. In Nicolas's young mind, he thought it was a magically place, and he would never want to learn otherwise.

At the park, his father scooped him into his arms. There was no snow on the ground, but it was still slick from icy and muddy in other places. Walking on the side walk was fine, but he did not particularly want Nicolas mud splattered since they were heading into town soon.

The people they were meeting were sitting on a bench. It was another father and his son. The son talked animatedly, gesturing all around them and frequently changing tact. His voice was a high tenor that betrayed just how young he was. Despite that, his words were clear and easy to understand.

"Taylor, I hope I did not make you wait long," Nicolas's father called to the man.

The man looked up and waved at him with a smile. They had met the day before under very...awkward circumstances. The boys would not know until they were later, but Nicolas's father had mistaken Troy for his own son and freaked out seeing Taylor leave with him. Of course, the misunderstanding was soon realized, but after things were explained, Taylor wanted to see Nicolas for himself.

The man stood up, keeping a hold of Troy as he did so. Since their children's hair was covered, all that could be seen was their faces, and whether at a distance or up close, it was easy to see the similarities. In the winter season when faces were all that could be seen, the two looked like identical twins.

As soon as Nicolas caught sight of Troy, his eyes brightened with interest. As Troy looked back at him, he grew quiet, his hands lowering. While the adults spoke with good humor, the boys studied each other with grave recognition. With about a year separating their birth, they were not twins at they might appear, but it was too easy to believe that they were brothers. As soon as Nicolas's father set him on the ground, he walked forward. His short legs carried him directly in front of Troy, and one mitted hand lifted to touch his cheek.

Troy looked at the other little boy. His golden brown eyes were hard, unbelievably so for one so young. However, that hardness disappeared when Nicolas smiled and said in a sweet, toddling voice, "Hello."

A soft laugh escaped Troy, and he tackled Nicolas, knocking him to the ground. The two laughed and rolled around, pushing each other down and giggling at their own feeble attempts to get up. Both parents looked at them with despair, having tried to keep them clean, but there was such joy coming from the two boys that neither could even pretend to be angry.

Finally, Troy used his larger size to pin his new found friend. Grinning down at him, he whispered something that neither of the adults heard but would stay with Nicolas forever. "You are mine."

Sighing softly, happily at the memory, Loki buried his face against Thor's neck. Despite the tone of the offer, they were just sitting on the blanket with a small fire in front of them. He was sitting between Thor's legs so his back was pressed against the warm chest, and the heat from the fire caressed his face and outstretched feet.

"Do you remember the first time I said I love you?" Thor asked, brushed Loki's hair aside to kiss his neck. His arm tightened around Loki, making him smile at the feeling of being safe.

Thor knew that Loki wanted more than cuddling, and quite frankly, he did too, but making his lover wait was one of the few pleasures that he could reserve just for himself. Otherwise, it was mutual. No matter what he did to Loki, he found that his friend squirmed with delight. At least if he waited, Loki would not get that, and Thor could enjoy the warmth just as much as anything, especially after the quick go in the car.

Something stirred a memory and as a twig popped in the fire, he used one hand to move Loki's damp hair off of his neck, tightening his hold on him. Wrapping the arm back around him, he brushed a kiss to the bumpy skin, he whispered, "Do you remember the first time I said I love you?"

Loki tilted his head forward, submissive to even the lightest touch. Thor did not know if he loved it or hated. He chose not to think about it. It was easier that way.

"To me or the mirror?" Loki asked, his tone amused, not bitter. They were both in love with themselves first, and Thor knew that Loki would sooner die than give up his mirrors, just as he would sooner give up Loki than his own beauty.

Chuckling, he kissed Loki again, this time on the shoulder. "To you. The first time I whispered my true feelings for the mirror, I was too young to have known you."

There was a smile on Loki's face that he could not hide, even looking away from Thor. Softly, he answered, "I remember, very well. Do you?"

"Yes. I had just turned five and you had been for for a while. We had known each other for about a year, and we were sitting on the porch together," Thor answered, trying to surprise Loki with his memory. He knew that his reputation for forgetting was a fact between them, but every so often, a memory would come back to him so strong it was as if he were still there. Most of the time, he enjoyed it silently, but occasionally, he brought it up, as if to confirm it was real. Of course, even if it was not Loki would never deny it, but at least they would be living the same lies.

From the way Loki sucked in a breath and his body tensed, Thor knew that it was the truth. It made him smile and his lips once more moved over the chilled skin, kissing just enough to bring some heat to the surface before moving on.

They sat in comfortable silence, neither of them wanting to let go of that moment and those simpler feelings of happiness. Considering that they were only twenty-one, their lives felt complex, overly so. They liked things when they were confusing and mixed up. It kept them interesting. However, it made simple, easy moment so beautiful that neither of them wanted them to end.

"Do you remember when Taylor caught us kissing?" Loki asked, his tone twisted with amusement.

Unfortunately, it took Thor and long moment to recall who exactly Taylor was. Loki's father was a Bill or something like that, and Taylor did not seem to be his brother's name. Finally, it clicked in his mind, after he had dismissed most of their classmates. "You mean the old guy?"

"No, not Dylan. Taylor, your father," Loki informed him, not sounding contemptuous or frustrated, just matter-of-fact and sort of prim. Though Loki often forgot the names of the unimportant people, he always got on his high horse when he remembered and Thor did not. It was fairly frequently, so it was not like Thor could call him on it. If he told Loki to shut up, he might get the results he wanted, but more than likely, he would just be faced with more taunting. His friend seemed to constantly want to provoke him into violence.

Rolling his eyes, Thor answered disdainfully, "No, I don't remember and don't particularly care."

The annoyed sound that game from Loki was a pretty good indicator that he was less than happy. Thor could not care less. He had not asked and did not want to know. At least, that was what he told himself. After a few minutes of silence and obvious pouting, he sighed and relented.

Nuzzling his face against Loki's neck, he kissed his shoulder and added, "I did not mean that last bit. You know that, love." Loki did not respond, but Thor could practically feel him waiting, wanting the words that he was oh-so certain would come next. It would have been fitting to leave him hanging, but he proved yet again he was the kinder of the two of them. Kissing Loki's neck, he whispered sweetly, "And I would love if you reminded me."

He could practically feel the smile in Loki's voice as he started the story.

A thirteen year old Nicolas sat on the dresser beside Troy's desk. Shortly after they had arrived in Troy's home, he had been informed that he was in trouble. He was not told what he had done, but he was assured that he would not be as soon as he could think of a way to get out of trouble.

It was not easy to think of ways to get himself out of trouble, especially since he liked getting in trouble with Troy, whether they were both getting lectured or he was getting a lecture. It always meant great fun. Except, he could not remember why he was in trouble and he was not getting yelled at. Instead, he was forced to sit on the dresser while Troy hunched over his desk doodling to his heart content. It was not unpleasant, but it was not as entertaining as it could be.

Sighing, the young teenager blew at his bangs. He could just barely see through them, but that was okay. They were normally brushed out of his eyes, giving him a boyish look that drew the girls in. He already knew how to use his looks to get kisses, and soon, it would be more than that.

For some reason, it did not impress him much. Sure he could kiss them and feel the physical desire to do more, but his mind grew all too bored with it. He was easily distracted and dispassionate to say the least. Their presence at school only served to fuel the fire that burned between him and Troy. They always seemed to end up fighting over girls, stupid little fist fights that ended with a bloody nose for one, a black eye for the other, and a few days off for both of them. Then, that time was spent together, raising hell and having fun. It was not such a bad thing to come from kissing, but he wanted to think there was something more than just boredom and physical desire.

More than that, every time he finished kissing a girl, he always had strange thoughts and feelings. Well, they were not particularly weird, not in his opinion, but he was not entirely sure. Usually, he could ask Troy for his thoughts and that put his mind at ease, but he could not, not with these thoughts.

He wanted to kiss Troy. It was not stupid or illogical to him. He knew that Troy was handsome, just as he knew that he was. In fact, very few guys in their school could compare to them, and none surpassed them. In fact, it was even a stretch to compare them, but Nicolas was friends to them, so he chose to be generous. Still, it made sense why he would want to kill Troy. There was no one as good looking as him.

The church that his mother always dragged him to seemed to disagree with that logic. It had been shortly after he had first felt the urge to kiss Thor and their pastor had delivered a moving sermon against homosexuality. While it was a result of Vermont legalizing gay marriage, but it was a little too well timed. It had struck Nicolas smack in the middle of a moral dilemma.

While he personally did not get much from the whole "Jesus" thing, his mother seemed to think it was important. Though he hated to admit it, next to Troy, she usually knew best.

A soft sign escaped him, and he kicked off his shoes so that he could draw his feet up onto the desk. It prevented his legs from falling asleep as quickly, but it still was not very comfortable. Troy had to know that. That was why he picked the dresser for Nicolas to sit on. It was even worse than standing. Still, he did not dare move, not until he came up with a way to get himself out of trouble.

This was truly no fun. If it was not for the fact that he had been told not to move, he would surely have gone home. As it were, he did not want to leave, not until he was given permission. It was not fair that he did not know what he was in trouble for. At least if he did, then he would know what to do about it.

Strangely, the idea of kissing Troy struck him again, and against his better judgment, he let it linger.

Troy really was handsome. His brow was wrinkled with concentration, and there was malicious intent in his eyes. A glance at the paper revealed a mutilated body. Sometimes, Nicolas thought it was odd that Troy did not mirror the face he drew. Later, he would learn it was because Troy was never the victim, but always the killer. His pen drew the murders that his mind committed.

As he watched the pen slide over the paper, retracing where a pencil had once danced, his teeth worried his lower lip and his mind continued to turn.

Abruptly, he stood up. Some part of him shielded back from the idea in his mind, but the rest of his being was urging him forward, a quiet chant of "do it, do it," singing in his mind. He knew that if the voices thought it was a good idea, he probably should not risk it, but the temptation was too great and his resistance too weak. The fact of the matter was he wanted to do it, and at least if he did follow through with this harebrained scheme, Troy would get mad at him for something different and he would know what he was in trouble for then.

Wrapping his arms around Troy's shoulders, he rested his chin on his own arm. Smiling, he cooed, "She's beautiful, but did not the killer have a thing about removing their nipples ante mortem?"

"She's still alive," Troy murmured, not noticing Nicolas's disobedience for a second. Almost as soon as he did, he placed the pen down. Looking straight forward, rather than craning his neck to look at Nicolas, he demanded coldly, "Why did you move? Have you figured out how to get yourself out of trouble this time?"

Nicolas nearly giggled, he felt so nervous. His stomach was twisting in knots that were physically painful, and he had to swallow roughly to keep himself from visibly cringing. Letting go of Thor, he shifted to rest his hip against the desk, pawing tautly through the cup of pens. Not looking at Troy, though he could now feel those hard, golden orbs on him, he answered, "Something like that, yes."

Troy make a soft, almost angry sound, and commanded him, "Look at me when you speak, Nicolas."

Sucking in a quick breath, he looked at Troy. Knowing what was expected, he repeated himself dutifully, "I have thought of something along those lines, Troy."

The small, dark flicker of a smile held no reassurance in it. Bleakly, Troy prompted him, "Well?"

For a second, he paused, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and then, tasting copper on his tongue, he leaned forward. He saw surprise on Troy's face before his eyes closed. Tactlessly, he pressed his lips against Troy's, holding them there, just to see if he would be hit. When he did not feel any pain, he moved them. His hands shifted to rest on Troy's shoulders, holding him in the seat.

It did not surprise Nicolas when he felt Troy kiss him back, nor was it that much of a surprise when he was pulled from the desk into Troy's lap. Pressing against him, he kissed Troy harder, his arms wrapping around the strong shoulders, clinging to him almost desperately.

Ice like, Troy's fingers skimmed over his lower back, pressing just enough to make him squirm. The shock made Nicolas bite his lip, renewing the taste of copper inside of his mouth. Almost as if he could smell the blood, Troy's tongue pushed past Nicolas's lips, swiping over the spot that was bleeding, agitating it so that it bled more.

Neither of them heard the door open, but they both certainly hear the muttered oath, not much louder than a whisper, but like a shout in a room that had only been filled with the sound of their breathing.

Unceremoniously, Troy pushed Nicolas onto his ass and at the same time, Troy's father toppled backwards, crashing against the wall and then sliding to the floor. The two boys looked at each other, shocked and confused for more than one reason. Then, as if they knew exactly how to handle it, Nicolas went for the phone while Troy checked on his father, finding him immobile and unresponsive.

"He really had a heartattack?" Thor asked, not really believing it, but somehow finding it hilarious.

Jaw dropped, Loki elbowed him and demanded, "How could you forget out first kiss?"

"It does not sound like it was a very pleasant experience for me. Maybe that is why?" Thor suggested, his voice dry. Knowing that Loki would surely take it the wrong way, he kissed his neck and nibble lightly, teasing him just a bit before adding, "Of course, the kiss was probably awesome, but as I recall, I was rather close to my father."

He could almost feel the sadness from Loki, and his friend nodded, leaning back against him. "After that, the two of you never really did get along well, huh? I used to blame myself, but then I realized it was not helping anything, so I tried to quit. It was hard, but I knew that the only thing I could do is distract you and try to make you smile. It did not always work. Sometimes it just pissed you off, but if I could not make you laugh, we experimented with the new game that we have found."

Laughing, Thor leaned back, lying down and drawing Loki with him. "That sounds about right." Kissing the top of Loki's head, he paused for a moment before murmuring, "It was not all bad, was it?"

Snorting, Loki twisted so that they were lying chest to chest. Looking down at him, he touched Thor's temple gently and told him, "You're blessed to not remember all of it, trust me."

"Always," Thor assured him, drawing his head down. Their lips met. Loki's hands slid up, lifting himself so that he could kiss him. Thor reached up to keep his hands on Loki's hips. It was meant as a chaste kiss, but with the eager urging of Loki's mouth against his, he could not help but kiss a little harder, kiss a little more passionately.

Giving into the urging, he pushed the towel up so that his fingers could play over the bare skin of Loki's lower back. It had struck him as odd that his friend would want to put pants on after getting out, but he did not say anything. Now, he wish he had, because it would have made it so much easier. Of course, nothing about their relationship could ever be easy. That would take all of the fun out of everything. If it was no fun, they would have nothing left. So, he said nothing and he would never say a word in complaint. After all, Loki just did what came natural to him, and that was what Thor liked second best.

The weight of the warm body pressed against him was pleasant, and as Loki lowered himself again, closer to him, he ground his hips forward, more of a question than a demand. How far were they going to go? It was always a question, particularly with Loki. Though Thor topped most of the time, it almost always Loki's call. He only pushed things once before and that had not been fun, so never again.

Loki responded to this question by pulled back and kissing his way down Thor's throat. His hands tangled with the material of the black jacket, pulling Thor up so he was sitting. Nimble fingers made quick work of removing the jacket, and Thor tilted his head back to let Loki have room to work, his tongue and teeth deliciously clever at finding the sweet spots that riddled his neck. Loki knew better than to leave a mark on Thor, since their lively hood relied on his body, but at times, he could feel the desire to bite harder, leave a mark, leave something that would show that Thor was his.

It was not the fact that he worked that he forbid it. It was not money that mattered so much. It was his sign of dominance. By denying Loki this, Thor gave him something to always want, to always pine after. By denying him the most basic urge to bite, he ensure that Loki would always be his. It was cruel, perhaps, to use such means on someone he supposedly loved, but it worked, and that was what mattered in the end.

His shirt soon followed, and Loki almost roughly pushed him back down. Thor could not help but chuckle, giving in to the demanding menstruations of his lover. His breath caught once, as Loki bit down on his collar bone, but it passed, as his friend explored farther. There was something about familiarity and newness that always colored each time they were together. It was impossible to tell if each time they were together was a first or just more amazing than the last. They brought each other higher than anything else could, and Thor had done enough drugs to know it was a fact.

"I love me," Thor gasped, the words shocked from him as Loki's attention turned towards his chest. Skillfully, he found the most sensitive skin, twisting his nipples just so, nipping just hard enough. It was teasing done with a sense of perfection. Second best was better than he could get from anyone else, and that was why he would forever love Loki.

The chuckle that escaped Loki was sheer arrogance, and Thor had just about enough of that. His hands captured Loki's face, pulling him up so that he could kiss him. Loki obeyed, giving in to the pulling. Their lips met, and Loki's hands traveled up once again, sliding over his neck and cheeks, caressing him lovingly.

Rolling them over, Thor rested his weight on Loki as he kissed him even harder. Already, his hands were skimming over the smooth skin. There was still a chill that he could feel, but he did not worry about it. If Loki got skin, he had no problem playing nurse for a bit. Soon he would chase the cold away.

Biting Loki's lip, he drew before releasing it. His lip flickered over the soft lips, tasting him. Slowly, he moved to kiss along the strong jaw, identical to his own. His teeth closed around Loki's ear lobe. Rolling it, he heard Loki suck in a breath and smirked. Arrogance could evaporate rather quickly, especially once he got his lover moaning and screaming, crying for Thor to go faster, do him harder, making want until he was too numb to want anything more.

The idea made him kiss lower, his lips tracing lightly lover the pulse that hammer violently. He could feel Loki's bit. Almost impulsively, he bit down, harder than he should have, but not hard enough to actually warn Loki what he wanted. He wanted to bit through his skin and taste not just the blood that controlled his life, that flowed directly from his heart to his twisted mind.
Here is my NaNoWriMo results.
This is unedited. Therefore, there will be numerous mistakes. Do not bother pointing them out to me. I have no intentions of editing this steaming pile of waste. :)

Initially, this was just me practicing writing erotica. Thor and Loki's lives to primarily revolve around sex. About halfway through, I realize how much more I could do with it. There are many details to their lives and their mindsets that would be absolutely brilliant to explore. Additionally, I had no outline, so it was unorganized. This frustrates me beyond belief.

For those reasons, I am going to wait until I am finished with MPiH before redoing this, and when I redo this, I will be starting from scratch. This is basically just a brainstorm/brain fart on my part. Please do not take this seriously.

Their relationship is neither normal nor healthy. Don't whine to me if you don't like it.
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