As he feels Loki's grip on his wrists, a shiver runs down his spine. Those words were like cold water in the face as he realized this guy was actually serious. It was actually happening. And in realizing that, it had a rather strange effect. It was as though two halves of himself whispered "it's real" in different tones. One with awed disbelief and the other with ice cold dread. And for a moment he felt as though he couldn't breathe.
For once, though, he stayed quiet. Typically he would have found a button to push, a sarcastic comment or a faked disregard for the other's authority. He knew what he would have said, but still he held his tongue. It was in that moment, that lack of desire to bite back, that a seed of suspicion took root. Something wasn't right here, he knew that much. Something was just ever so slightly off in a way he couldn't quite see.
It was emphasized by the fact that when he was ordered to take off his clothes, though he had his typical "make me" ready to hand, he never actually spoke the words. The urge to say it died away a moment later. But that was all he had to go on, because he really did want to do what Loki was asking. Maybe for once he just didn't feel like being a brat, after all.
He started to strip without much hesitation. There wasn't much flair to it. He peeled off his teeshirt, letting it drop to the floor as he kicked off his shoes. That was the easy part. He then unfastened his belt and set to peeling his jeans off. He had to steady himself on the wall, as they were quite snug. But soon those joined the shirt on the floor. Then came the socks, one after the other. And at last, his boxers. He hooked his thumbs under the band, glancing at Loki. Another faint urge to be flippant died away before finally stripping them off.
However, some things are difficult to squash completely. As he held the underwear in his hands, a sly smile crept onto his lips. He tossed them at Loki. Not in any way that could be mistaken as sexy, since he balled them up and tossed them at the other's face. Then again, there was the promise of punishment on the table, and he wanted to know just how far Loki was willing to go.
no subject
For once, though, he stayed quiet. Typically he would have found a button to push, a sarcastic comment or a faked disregard for the other's authority. He knew what he would have said, but still he held his tongue. It was in that moment, that lack of desire to bite back, that a seed of suspicion took root. Something wasn't right here, he knew that much. Something was just ever so slightly off in a way he couldn't quite see.
It was emphasized by the fact that when he was ordered to take off his clothes, though he had his typical "make me" ready to hand, he never actually spoke the words. The urge to say it died away a moment later. But that was all he had to go on, because he really did want to do what Loki was asking. Maybe for once he just didn't feel like being a brat, after all.
He started to strip without much hesitation. There wasn't much flair to it. He peeled off his teeshirt, letting it drop to the floor as he kicked off his shoes. That was the easy part. He then unfastened his belt and set to peeling his jeans off. He had to steady himself on the wall, as they were quite snug. But soon those joined the shirt on the floor. Then came the socks, one after the other. And at last, his boxers. He hooked his thumbs under the band, glancing at Loki. Another faint urge to be flippant died away before finally stripping them off.
However, some things are difficult to squash completely. As he held the underwear in his hands, a sly smile crept onto his lips. He tossed them at Loki. Not in any way that could be mistaken as sexy, since he balled them up and tossed them at the other's face. Then again, there was the promise of punishment on the table, and he wanted to know just how far Loki was willing to go.