lost prince

He moaned as Loki’s kiss became more urgent. He slid his fingers into his lover’s hair, trying to press closer without knocking over their mugs. He tugged at the god’s lower lip with his teeth, teasing his tongue over the soft flesh. He could do this forever, just lay here and kiss Loki like the world outside the apartment didn’t exist. Clint drew back only when air was necessary, lips swollen and pupils blown wide. He pulled his hand back and moved their mugs out of the danger zone before pressing himself into the god’s chest and finding his lips again. He curled his hand over Loki’s hip, thumb stroking over soft skin beneath the Santa robe.

So much for trying to be a tease. He may not be able to say how much he loved archer, but he felt it was obvious by how he reacted to just hearing it. However, he found himself distracted by the mugs, and pulled away just as Clint had returned. A puff of smoke, and they reappeared on the counter. "Mm, much more comfortable. Now, where were we?" he questioned, pillows appearing under his head as he fell back, pulling Clint with him. "Tell me, what does my little bird want for Christmas the *most* this year?" He purred, sliding his hands up Clint's thighs. "Anything crave, anything you desire in your twisted little mind..." Quirking a brow upward, he hoped his lover would be honest.

He laughed as he was pulled atop the god, shifting so he could straddle his hips. A shiver ran down his spine at the way Loki purred out that nickname like it was nothing, and his jeans were instantly tight across the front. He rolled his hips down against his lover’s, groaning softly at the friction. “I want you to fuck me in all the ways you’ve ever dreamed up,” he said, the words falling off his tongue without him really even thinking them over. 

“I want to be marked by you, bruised by you, fucked so hard I can’t walk straight for days. So the world knows I’m taken by someone who knows how to make me scream and beg for more.” He licked his lips, pupil’s blown wide as he looked down into Loki’s gaze, hands splayed out on the god’s chest to keep him upright in the sudden dizzy rush of his arousal.

A sly grin of confidence crept across his lips at Clint's reaction, but not for long. Seconds later, his hands reached to grip Barton's hips and keep him pulled close as a surprised groan of ecstasy escaped him.

That answer wasn't quite what he'd expected, but in the haze of desire, he dared not question it. Only capitalize on it. "You truly are such a whore, in the very best of ways," he lauded sarcastically, hands wandering up over Clint's torso, eyes following his fingertips as they trailed over the archer's physique, gently biting his own lip in appreciation of the artwork. "That cocoa was nothing more than a ruse was it?" Rolling his hips up against Clint's, he hoped to hear the desperation in his reply.

Loki called him a whore and Clint grinned, a shiver running down his spine. The god’s hands felt incredible on his skin, lighting his nerves on fire with every brush of his fingertips. Loki rolled his hips up against him and Clint moaned, pressing his own down into the force in search of any amount of friction he could find. “F-fuck--” His hands curled into the Santa robe for balance as he rolled his own hips against the god’s to match his eagerness. “H-had to get you down here s-somehow,” he breathed, eyes closed as he rocked in search of any little bit of pleasure. “Mmmm fuck me?”

That...oh, yes that would do. He had asked awfully nicely, just as he always did, and Loki had always been and likely always would be a sucker for it. His back arching as he groaned, eyes fluttering shut as the archer rocked against him, he let himself have a moment, a morsel, of pleasure before electing to give Clint precisely what he'd asked for. Sitting up -- no easy feat with his lover perched on his hips as he was -- he pulled Clint in for a hot, desperate kiss, the hands at his waist securing him in place. Then, pulling away, he shoved the archer onto his back, pillows appearing under his head as Loki freed his legs and slid between Clint's. Without pause, he put himself on top of the archer, lips again finding his in a deep and lingering kiss as their clothing disappeared in a puff of verdant, shimmering smoke. Pulling Clint's legs up to wrap around his waist, skillful fingertips slipped between the other's cheeks, already slick with lube. "I could fuck you," he purred as he pulled away to devour the archer's throat and jaw with lips and teeth and tongue. "Or I could leave you hanging, leave you wanting...tell me why I should." Not that he would truly ever be so cruel unless Clint wanted him to be, or he'd done something to deserve it, but regardless, he adored the sounds of his lover's desperate pleading, and hollow threats were the easiest way to draw them past his lips.

He moaned as Loki’s kiss became more urgent. He slid his fingers into his lover’s hair, trying to press closer without knocking over their mugs. He tugged at the god’s lower lip with his teeth, teasing his tongue over the soft flesh. He could do this forever, just lay here and kiss Loki like the world outside the apartment didn’t exist. Clint drew back only when air was necessary, lips swollen and pupils blown wide. He pulled his hand back and moved their mugs out of the danger zone before pressing himself into the god’s chest and finding his lips again. He curled his hand over Loki’s hip, thumb stroking over soft skin beneath the Santa robe.

So much for trying to be a tease. He may not be able to say how much he loved archer, but he felt it was obvious by how he reacted to just hearing it. However, he found himself distracted by the mugs, and pulled away just as Clint had returned. A puff of smoke, and they reappeared on the counter. "Mm, much more comfortable. Now, where were we?" he questioned, pillows appearing under his head as he fell back, pulling Clint with him. "Tell me, what does my little bird want for Christmas the *most* this year?" He purred, sliding his hands up Clint's thighs. "Anything crave, anything you desire in your twisted little mind..." Quirking a brow upward, he hoped his lover would be honest.

He laughed as he was pulled atop the god, shifting so he could straddle his hips. A shiver ran down his spine at the way Loki purred out that nickname like it was nothing, and his jeans were instantly tight across the front. He rolled his hips down against his lover’s, groaning softly at the friction. “I want you to fuck me in all the ways you’ve ever dreamed up,” he said, the words falling off his tongue without him really even thinking them over. 

“I want to be marked by you, bruised by you, fucked so hard I can’t walk straight for days. So the world knows I’m taken by someone who knows how to make me scream and beg for more.” He licked his lips, pupil’s blown wide as he looked down into Loki’s gaze, hands splayed out on the god’s chest to keep him upright in the sudden dizzy rush of his arousal.

A sly grin of confidence crept across his lips at Clint's reaction, but not for long. Seconds later, his hands reached to grip Barton's hips and keep him pulled close as a surprised groan of ecstasy escaped him.

That answer wasn't quite what he'd expected, but in the haze of desire, he dared not question it. Only capitalize on it. "You truly are such a whore, in the very best of ways," he lauded sarcastically, hands wandering up over Clint's torso, eyes following his fingertips as they trailed over the archer's physique, gently biting his own lip in appreciation of the artwork. "That cocoa was nothing more than a ruse was it?" Rolling his hips up against Clint's, he hoped to hear the desperation in his reply.

He moaned as Loki’s kiss became more urgent. He slid his fingers into his lover’s hair, trying to press closer without knocking over their mugs. He tugged at the god’s lower lip with his teeth, teasing his tongue over the soft flesh. He could do this forever, just lay here and kiss Loki like the world outside the apartment didn’t exist. Clint drew back only when air was necessary, lips swollen and pupils blown wide. He pulled his hand back and moved their mugs out of the danger zone before pressing himself into the god’s chest and finding his lips again. He curled his hand over Loki’s hip, thumb stroking over soft skin beneath the Santa robe.

So much for trying to be a tease. He may not be able to say how much he loved archer, but he felt it was obvious by how he reacted to just hearing it. However, he found himself distracted by the mugs, and pulled away just as Clint had returned. A puff of smoke, and they reappeared on the counter. "Mm, much more comfortable. Now, where were we?" he questioned, pillows appearing under his head as he fell back, pulling Clint with him. "Tell me, what does my little bird want for Christmas the *most* this year?" He purred, sliding his hands up Clint's thighs. "Anything crave, anything you desire in your twisted little mind..." Quirking a brow upward, he hoped his lover would be honest.

He chuckled softly at Loki’s compliments. “I have my moments,” he replied, setting his mug down on the floor between them. Clint stroked his fingertips over Loki’s cheek. “S’nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” he mumbled, blue-grey eyes staring deep into Loki’s.

There was something slightly addicting about the way he felt when Clint looked at him. It sent a chill down his spine, but a welcome one. "Sappier than pine, you are," he chuckled, setting his own mug down and moving to kiss those lips which such sickly sweet praise so often passed through. Putting most of his weight to one arm, the other found Clint's hand and threaded their fingers together.

Clint hummed into Loki’s kiss, curling his fingers in with the god’s as he sighed contently. This was all he’d wanted, really--some intimate time together. The sex was just going to be a bonus. “I love you,” he mumbled into the kiss, tasting chocolate on Loki’s lips.

Loki's heart fluttered in his chest, that unbearably tempting word dancing on his tongue but daring not to come forth. Somehow, he still felt too many uncertainties, still felt that love was a promise he couldn't bear to trap his mortal lover with when he didn't know all the facts. There was much about him that the archer had no clue about.

Trying not to let his thoughts pull him out if the moment, he instead kissed Clint with more urgency, a soft groan of appreciation slipping past his lips.

He chuckled softly at Loki’s compliments. “I have my moments,” he replied, setting his mug down on the floor between them. Clint stroked his fingertips over Loki’s cheek. “S’nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” he mumbled, blue-grey eyes staring deep into Loki’s.

There was something slightly addicting about the way he felt when Clint looked at him. It sent a chill down his spine, but a welcome one. "Sappier than pine, you are," he chuckled, setting his own mug down and moving to kiss those lips which such sickly sweet praise so often passed through. Putting most of his weight to one arm, the other found Clint's hand and threaded their fingers together.

Clint assessed the pile of presents and shrugged. "Okay maybe not under the tree. But in front of it?" He had an image in his head of what Loki would like when he came with the lights of the tree illuminating his perfect pale skin, and he needed to know if it was accurate. It was for science, really.

"Somebody's in the holiday spirit," he joked, grin brightening from Clint's determination. "I'm convinced. You handle the hot chocolate, and I..." Pressing a kiss to the archers cheek, his next words were whispered. ..."Will be right back." Giving his lover's backside a good squeeze, he laughed to himself as he sauntered off toward the bedroom closet.

He grinned as Loki whispered to him and gave his ass a good groping. He watched his lover saunter away, eyes focusing in on Loki’s hips as he disappeared down the hall. The minute he was out of sight, the archer pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it onto the end of the couch without a care. He scooped his Santa hat off the end table where he’d laid it after they’d decorated the tree and pulled in onto his head at a jaunty angle before heading into the kitchen to whip up the hot chocolate.

He knew he had just the thing for such an occasion. He'd just been waiting for the right opportunity. Slipping out of his sweats and robe, he threw on a short red velvet robe trimmed in white faux fur, and an oversize brass-buckled black leather belt. Then, putting on his own Santa hat that he'd stashed away, he swapped his current underwear out for a dark green pair with candy canes printed all around, knowing Clint would appreciate the effort. Then, after a moment of adjusting it all in the mirror, he headed back out to the living room.

"I see you've unwrapped one of my presents already," he purred, devouring the archer before him with his gaze.

Clint grinned, turning his head to nibble and kiss down the god’s throat. “What can I say? I picked one hell of a gorgeous boyfriend,” he mumbled against his skin, tip of his tongue teasing along Loki’s collarbone. He slid his hand down the god’s chest and over Loki’s own sizeable bulge. “You don’t seem disappointed yourself, my king.”

Loki hummed lowly with contented pleasure as the archer worked lips, teeth, and tongue across the canvas of his throat. However, as he tried to cop a feel of the hardening length in his drawers, he managed to take a step or two back, out of his arm's reach, while still not spilling the cocoa in his mug. "Ah ah! Not yet, not yet. There's hot chocolate yet to be sipped, and who knows? I may want another after that. Let us not be hasty." All the while as he spoke, it was clear that the only reason he denied him was to tease him, provoke the archer, make him wait and even after make him beg. It wasn't his fault that the man could be so appealing when he was desperate.

Clint growled softly as Loki’s hips moved out of his reach at the last second. The god was a fucking tease and it frustrated him to no end every time. “Mm,” he redirected with a smirk. “Something sweet before dessert?” he replied, pulling out of the god’s reach entirely and grabbing a couple of throw pillows before he dropped onto the floor in front of tree. He flopped the pillows down side by side and leaned one elbow on the one closest to him. He patted the other, arching a brow at the god as he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

Grinning at the clear frustration in Clint's every syllable, he sipped his drink as he waited for the man to set the scene. "You know I get a sweet tooth every now and then," he responded, and as Clint invited him to join him, he lay opposite him, a mirror image of his posture. "This is all quite romantic, I must say," he complimented, taking a pause from his usual snark to thank Clint for his patience. "Relaxing by the Yule tree, a cup of hot cocoa...it's almost wholesome." A softer smile replaced his devious grin of before as he gazed over his lover.

Clint assessed the pile of presents and shrugged. "Okay maybe not under the tree. But in front of it?" He had an image in his head of what Loki would like when he came with the lights of the tree illuminating his perfect pale skin, and he needed to know if it was accurate. It was for science, really.

"Somebody's in the holiday spirit," he joked, grin brightening from Clint's determination. "I'm convinced. You handle the hot chocolate, and I..." Pressing a kiss to the archers cheek, his next words were whispered. ..."Will be right back." Giving his lover's backside a good squeeze, he laughed to himself as he sauntered off toward the bedroom closet.

He grinned as Loki whispered to him and gave his ass a good groping. He watched his lover saunter away, eyes focusing in on Loki’s hips as he disappeared down the hall. The minute he was out of sight, the archer pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it onto the end of the couch without a care. He scooped his Santa hat off the end table where he’d laid it after they’d decorated the tree and pulled in onto his head at a jaunty angle before heading into the kitchen to whip up the hot chocolate.

He knew he had just the thing for such an occasion. He'd just been waiting for the right opportunity. Slipping out of his sweats and robe, he threw on a short red velvet robe trimmed in white faux fur, and an oversize brass-buckled black leather belt. Then, putting on his own Santa hat that he'd stashed away, he swapped his current underwear out for a dark green pair with candy canes printed all around, knowing Clint would appreciate the effort. Then, after a moment of adjusting it all in the mirror, he headed back out to the living room.

"I see you've unwrapped one of my presents already," he purred, devouring the archer before him with his gaze.

Clint grinned, turning his head to nibble and kiss down the god’s throat. “What can I say? I picked one hell of a gorgeous boyfriend,” he mumbled against his skin, tip of his tongue teasing along Loki’s collarbone. He slid his hand down the god’s chest and over Loki’s own sizeable bulge. “You don’t seem disappointed yourself, my king.”

Loki hummed lowly with contented pleasure as the archer worked lips, teeth, and tongue across the canvas of his throat. However, as he tried to cop a feel of the hardening length in his drawers, he managed to take a step or two back, out of his arm's reach, while still not spilling the cocoa in his mug. "Ah ah! Not yet, not yet. There's hot chocolate yet to be sipped, and who knows? I may want another after that. Let us not be hasty." All the while as he spoke, it was clear that the only reason he denied him was to tease him, provoke the archer, make him wait and even after make him beg. It wasn't his fault that the man could be so appealing when he was desperate.

He was waiting with two mugs of boozy hot chocolate, which he nearly dropped at the sight of the god. Clint groaned softly as he took it all in, closing the distance between them and passing one of the mugs to his lover. “I didn’t think you’d mind me helping out a little,” he replied, voice low and husky as he brushed his nose against the god’s before he brushed a teasing kiss against his lips. He ran his free hand up Loki’s chest and curled it around the back of his neck, keeping him close by.

Though he took the mug from Clint, his attention was far more occupied by the look on the archer's face. "I'll allow it. This time," he joked, his free hand gently grasping at his lover's waist and pulling him that much closer. "I was going to ask what you thought of my outfit this year, but I think I already know," he hummed, glancing briefly down at the increasingly noticeable bulge in Clint's jeans and then back up to meet his frosty gaze with a smirk.