thatsmyjonson | NSFW: Chance Meeting...

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NSFW: Chance Meeting...

The red flags should have been obvious. In fact, they weren't even flags, they were glaring, screaming warning sirens. And yet Dane still ignored them. The first warning was that the guy actually wanted to go somewhere with him. The second was in some of the things the guy said. And the third, he wanted to go somewhere with Dane right now. He didn't have much luck like this, for a very good reason. Dane so often set up himself up for failure that at most he'd get a little action in the cramped bathroom before they never spoke to each other again. And that was if he was really, really lucky, and the other person was really, really desperate.

But sitting at that bar, with this good looking guy so focused on him, he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the alcohol, but every little touch to his arm felt absolutely electric. His heart raced with every tiny touch, making it hard to think. Well, it was making a lot of things hard, but that was kind of the point. Even when he panicked and made a lewd comment about just how skilled the guy's mouth must be, he stayed. It was going well, too well.

Just when he was starting to worry about the struggle to keep his hands from going places they really shouldn't in such a a public place, the other guy suggested they leave together. Dane thought he might fall off his stool. But there he was, stepping into the crisp night air with basically a stranger, going god knows where. The uncertainty of it all terrified him, it made him want it more. Were they going to some lavish penthouse somewhere, or was the guy going to slam him against a wall and have his way with him? It made his heart thunder in his chest.

"Your car or mine?" he asked, holding up his car keys.

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He doesn't need the invite- he's not a vampire, after all- but it's certainly nice to have it in case anyone does turn up, so he can honestly say he was asked to come in. In much the same way as Dane will have asked for almost everything they do, in the end. He smiles as he steps in, taking a look around. He's not entirely sure about the posters, and he'd never paint a wall in such a Thor colour, but other than that... it looks more comfortable than he feared. After a moment he takes the door from Dane, closing it gently behind himself, but with a very definite click.

"And now we're alone. Much better, don't you think?" Loki certainly thinks so, turning to face Dane, resting his fingers lightly under Dane's chin, keeping it tilted up so he can see Dane's face clearly. He doesn't need to be heavy handed, when even a light touch has a god's strength behind it- although he might be later, depending on how the evening goes.

And speaking of heavy-handed, he might perhaps have pushed just a little too far, considering how stiff Dane seems to have gone. He makes his voice more soothing, the magic in it a little more reassuring this time. "Relax just a little, I think. I'm not going to punish you for making reasonable suggestions, unless you'd prefer it that way." He smiles again, confident now and no reason to hide it. Dane chose to call him 'master', without Loki choosing it specifically; the choice says a lot, to him. "The final decision will still be mine, of course, but that's what you want, isn't it?"

Relaxing wasn't exactly something Dane was capable of. At least not in any typical way. The nudge, however, did help clear out some of the unnecessary noise of his thoughts. It reduced the number of times he went every every detail looking for variations or possibilities. It wasn't quite relaxing, but it was certainly less. And it came just in time for Loki to mention punishment. Where most people would have been concerned or shied away, Dane couldn't help the expression that spread across his face. It was like a child being told he might be getting a puppy for Christmas. An eager hopefulness that he didn't stop in time.

After a moment, he was able to reign it in, before he got too wide-eyed. But still his heart thundered in his chest as he gazed up at Loki. Perhaps it was the command to relax, or just his own neediness taking root, but this time he found the words without too much trouble.

He nodded, saying "I want what you want." And he meant it. It felt strange, not pushing, but being flippant or sarcastic. But it was like his reasons for doing that had been stripped away.

He started to reach for Loki, wanting to get him out of his clothes. For a moment he hesitated, torn between being good and being not so good. But there was no temptation better for him than the promise of punishment. His hands found Loki's coat, intent to pull him down for a kiss. At long last.

He lets Dane pull him down, although he's certainly capable of resisting if he wanted to. It's been long enough since the last time he picked someone up, and being a god and still physically young comes with a lot of unfortunate side effects- like a larger appetite for sex. And having power over someone, particularly someone who seems genuinely eager to let him have it... well, he's sure it wouldn't surprise very many people at all that he enjoys that. He kisses Dane hungrily, taking over the kiss for as long as he wants it, before he pulls away just enough to nip sharply at Dane's lower lip, catching it between his canines. Not hard enough to damage, but certainly hard enough to hurt.

"Did I say I wanted you to do that?," he asks, eyebrow up, hands closing around Dane's wrists, grip tight but not actually cruel. Not yet. "I don't recall asking for it... or for your hands on me."

Not that he objects to being wanted, but better to get the patterns laid out now, he thinks. Particularly as Dane seems to want to be punished, given the way he'd looked before. He gives it another moment before he lets go of Dane's wrists, just to make sure the message is clear.

"I think you should take your own clothes off first. Here, and now." He nudges a little more, making it sound like a very good idea, something that Dane genuinely should want to do. And it should make it clear who has the power in the room, too.

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.

Despite the lack of actual show, which Loki wasn't expecting anyway, he watches Dane undress closely just to see what exactly he's gotten for the evening. It's enough to give him warning, at least, somewhere between hesitation, smile, and the tensing of muscles in a way they shouldn't be; enough to get his hand up, green flickering around his fingers, as the offending clothing falls to the floor an inch or two short of ever hitting him. More warning, and he wouldn't even have needed the light show, but as it is- well, it's out now, isn't it?

"I think you should kneel," he says, tone still conversational, but the suggestion heavier than he's let himself get so far. Now they're alone, and he can be sure there's nothing literally up Dane's sleeve, subtlety can be put aside a little more. "And then- perhaps if you're apologetic enough, this doesn't have to go any further."

He looks down at his nails, letting the small illusions he's been keeping up fade. Not many, just enough to make the green of his eyes a little duller, hide the fact his nails are naturally black, but now he doesn't need them either. Only after a moment does he look back up, when he's sure he's made his point on Dane's relative importance right now. "Or are you the kind of person who'd rather see how far I'm willing to go, Dane?"

The glimmer of light was enough to made Dane hesitate. It was easy enough in certain circumstances to dismiss such things as imagination. But not here, not this close. Not what what Dane had already started to suspect. The name, the strange sensations. It was enough to stun him to silence, openly gaping.

Then came that command. Kneel. He practically dropped to his knees from standing, the softest moan escaping his lips. It shouldn't have excited him so much. This man...this god before him could be planning to do any number of horrible things to him. And yet he felt his cheeks flushing as arousal crept up through him. His imagination had so often entertained fantasies about all that magic could accomplish, but it had always been pure fiction. And here it was.

His chest rose and fell, visibly, fighting down the urge to apologize, just because he was told he should. When Loki spoke again, he had an out. A sly sort of smile crept onto his face. "Why should I apologize?" He asked, sounding as cocky as he could manage. "I'm not sorry." Trying so hard to communicate that he did truly and honestly want Loki to go as far as his heart desired. There was something rather poetic in it, sacrificing himself to a god.

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