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Perfect Offering

Summary:

After a ritual, Loki/Gabriel awakens some unknown feelings in Sam. Worship and smut ensue. Cross-posted on tumblr at https://felix-the-white-wolf.tumblr.com/post/181711410911/perfect-offering

Work Text:

Staring at Gabriel--or, probably more accurately, Loki--Sam wondered when he had fallen so hard for the pagan archangel.

Not that it was necessarily bad, especially with how good he looked in that tunic and wool pants. It was warm enough in the woods where they were that Loki had wrapped the outer tunic around his waist, leaving him in that deliciously form-fitting undertunic with the outer tunic perfectly accentuating his waistline and hips.

In short, Loki/Gabriel looked amazing like this.

When he was finished with the ritual and the case was officially over, the archangel snapped them back to their motel rooms.

Loki’s eyes were still faintly glowing darkly with power, projecting an air of almost-feral strength, and Sam was a bit unsure of what he should do. Would Gabe be iffy about Sam fetishizing his alter ego when he was back in 100% control?

Surely not.

It just felt natural to kneel at Loki’s feet and start unlacing his clothes when the man sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he heard the deep inhale from above.

He hesitated, still a bit unsure, but found himself bending forward to gingerly lay his forehead against the boot in front of his face.

He heard a shaky exhale above him, and the voice of his lover. “Are you sure about this, Samshine?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes, Loki, I’m yours tonight.” He kissed the toe of the boot.

“Very well. I accept your offering.” Sam shuddered at the words, going pliant in Loki’s hands as he was hauled up for a searing kiss. He whined at the not-enough friction when Loki ground up, the noise thickening into a groan when their clothes were banished with a snap, hot cock suddenly grinding against hot cock.

Loki wound a hand into the hair near the base of his skull and pulled, baring Sam’s neck to the god. Sam half expected his mind to put up the usual fit about being vulnerable, but it never did, and he sank into the role gratefully.

Loki seemed to notice the change and hummed gratefully against his throat before licking a burning stripe along his jaw, not stopping the constant grinding motion that sent every last drop of blood to his dick. Licking soon turned into kissing, which turned into biting, and within a pitifully short time, Sam was sweaty and panting, looking completely ruined, while Loki had barely broken a sweat.

Too soon, he stopped moving.

“Loki, please,” Sam whimpered shamelessly, burying his face in his lover’s neck, giving little enticing kitten licks to the tender skin there.

“Hush, Samuel. You’re mine tonight, you don’t get to ask me for things. I know what you need.” Loki loosened the grip in his hair and shifted them, laying Sam face-down on the bed and snapping something into existence.

As soon as he felt the bite of cold steel on his shoulder blade, he knew what Loki had summoned. He moaned softly at the realization, using the weight of Loki over him to ground him in the sensations attacking from all sides.

Loki kept a hand stroking his ribs and thigh as he meticulously carved a symbol only known to him into the skin of Sam’s upper back and shoulders, the warmth of his blood offsetting the cold of the metal.

Soon enough he was done, and traced the symbol with his tongue, moaning at the taste. Loki tilted Sam’s head up, kissing him slow and wet as he trailed his unoccupied hand down Sam’s chest. He rolled a nipple between nimble fingers--a whimper escaped Sam’s throat--and pinched it hard, sending Sam’s hips stuttering and his back arching, and he panted into Loki’s mouth.

Eventually, Loki’s hand stopped moving at his abs and pushed him up onto elbows and knees, not letting go until he was sure Sam could support himself. Loki wrapped a hand firmly around Sam’s erection, using precome to slick the way as he stroked. Sam’s hips stuttered again, thrusting into the grip before Loki cracked a hand down on his ass, stopping his movements. He whined, digging his fingers into the sheets to release tension.

“Be still, Samuel.”

Loki pressed kisses along his spine as he coated his fingers in the blood still on his back, rubbing a finger over his hole before pushing in over his prostate. Another whine escaped, and he dropped his head and spread his legs wider. Loki rubbed his prostate firmly, never stopping his other hand stroking his cock. In a few strokes, he wailed through his orgasm, throwing his head back, limbs trembling. Loki let him come down from the high slowly, before shifting them onto their sides on the bed, rubbing one out over Sam’s ass and thighs before snapping to clean them up and spooning up behind him.

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