Sew Thy Lips Shut, Mortal

The Coyote is gone?

His magic just vanished, I can no longer feel it. He is dead and I need his body.

Touch it and I’ll cut your silver tongue out. What do you want, Loki?

I wouldn't dream of it. Not with what happened last time I felt like a bit of fun. I can't simply wish for a talk with my favourite niece-in-law?

"I can persuade you not to do it, but I’d much rather you just listened this time." With a soft simle, Nate’s fingers twined carefully in Loki’s dark hair, combing over his scalp lightly. "I don’t anticipate fighting." he said, a breath ghosting over his lips instead of continued words. "I never make it that far, if you’ll remember."

Narfi decided to leave his question unanswered, instead looking around to take in the area they were in. He had barely noted his father had turned away from him until he spoke again, turning his head to face him. The subject was one that was still sensitive to Narfi, for he loved his brother dearly. 

“Talked to Thor? No. His light has diminished significantly since I arrived and I have no intention of making myself known to him, presently. His wife is around, you know. Stay away from her hair, why don’t you?” his words fell out in heavy breaths, tainted with light. “Yes, well we can all be taught to fight, Loki. I shan’t, but it is not impossible.”

Must be my genes. I have a father just like it. 

"War— as it does always. I have seen sides grow stronger and more eager for bloodshed, my brothers among them. I’d much rather just sit and let it turn. I am not ready to return to Breiðablik just yet."

Is it important?

It’s the way that I like it. 

And what is it that makes you so bold, child?

Ah, Norse Gods are so fickle and easily tempered. It’s fascinating to see.

Silken words dripping from Loki’s tongue in time with the decadent tremor coiling around Nate’s spine. Peering down at Loki through a curtain of ebony, Nate caught the gleam of enjoyment in emerald irises. The sweetness rang false, though Nate quite enjoyed the honeyed words of such a sharp man.

Removing his fingers from Loki’s neck with a huff, Nate let his hands drift slowly up the toned thigh of the man he so desperately wanted in every way known to man and god alike. Pressing his palms firmly against Loki’s hips, Nate grinned. “Ah, ah, careful.”

Loki groaned in disappointment when his hips were pinned back against the wall, fingers clenching around whatever they held in frustration.

Nathaniel pressed Loki against the wall, long fingers wrapped around the god’s slender neck— skin like ice and smooth as porcelain. Nate kicked Loki’s feet together, placing his own on either side, pressing the entirety of himself against the deceptively diminutive frost giant.

Loki gasped as he was pressed bodily against the wall, groaning happily as he tangled fingers in Nate's belt and ground their hips together, moaning happily as he pressed into the delicious friction.

"In my own office." Loki snorted as his knees went weak and his back pressed even harder against the wall for support. He grabbed the wrist of the hand clenched around his throat and panted.