For Loki (coldsong)

[malcolmeffect]

Truth was, Ian had been home for several days without Kelly and there was discomfort in the silence and the empty apartment. The texting had been a distraction from his own internal, dark, dialog and the fact that he couldn't focus on reading any longer.

He's still not used to how quickly Loki can show up at his door. The knock startles him to the point that he feels ridiculous for jumping. The apartment is relatively dark, only a few table lamps and candles for light. Ian tends toward dimmer lighting and avoided blaring over head lighting. His depression only amplified the desire for semi-darkness.

He's not quite as put together as he usually is when he opens the door, exhausted from lack of sleep and too much drinking. Even under these conditions he manages a small, puckish smile.


Continued from here

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[coldsong]

Loki is in his more casual clothing, which is to say the usual sleek green leather pants, but rather than a matching jacket, his tunic is a softer material, a less vibrant shade of green. His hair is also down, loose waves around his shoulders, but that...was probably done deliberately, for Ian's benefit. His eyes are bright, just a bit short of feverish, but the smile he gives Ian in return isn't predatory. It's a little uncertain, a little hopeful, a little concerned.

"Quiet night, hm?" He steps inside, not waiting for an invitation. Part of him is very tempted to go in for a kiss right away; he's worked up, itching, hungering for contact. But because Ian looks tired, because the apartment is so dark, because this is clearly not a moment of levity, he opts for a more gentle approach.

His hands come up to rest on the man's shoulders, pressing and kneading gently before sliding up the sides of his neck to cradle his jaw and the back of his head. Not leaning in for a kiss just yet, but stroking, strangely tender. "I would say you could have called for me, but I understand why you did not."

[malcolmeffect]

"Uh too many." Ian sighs at the idea. He was both in no mood for company and hated being alone too often lately. He didn't expect Loki to wait for an invitation and steps aside before closing the door and turning back to his guest.

The tension he'd been feeling from stress and just life in general was soothed, if only a minute about, by the touch to his shoulders. Ian's eyes close feeling that this could be a way to sleep or perhaps it was just the company, particularly of someone he trusted, that allowed him to relax enough to maybe side step the insomnia. "You don't call either."

It was an observation. Both of them seemed to be of the suffer in silence types.

[coldsong]

Loki's impulse when he's really hurting is to retreat, sometimes literally. Thor could (but probably wouldn't) tell Ian about days not so very long ago where Loki visited Asvera, wedged himself into a dark corner under a desk, and stayed there for several hours. Of course, Loki is nothing if not mercurial. He'd be hard pressed to say he's ever really recovered from anything that's happened to him, but some days are better than others.

Today was tolerable, but Ian just made it far more interesting.

There's a flicker of something in his chest--he's not sure if it's wonder, or affection, or desire, or a mix of all the above--at the sight of the man relaxing under this touch. "I have to hold it together for the children," he explains quietly. "Then by the time they sleep I'm usually out like a light."

Contact seems anything but unwanted; he moves a little closer, body almost, but not quite, against the other man's. Slow, easy, there's no reason to rush whatever this is. They both need comfort and they can find it in one another. Loki strokes Ian's face with the backs of his fingers, almost as if he's memorizing the planes and angles of it. Sure, he's almost a younger carbon-copy of the Grandmaster, physically, but Loki is mostly over that resemblance by now, aside from wondering whether they have any of the same sensitive spots. The soul that animates this body is not much like the one within the ancient cosmic being that rules Sakaar.

"Should I call? Would you want me to?" He's a matter of an inch or two shorter than Ian, which makes him a convenient height to lean close and rest his forehead on the human's shoulder.

[malcolmeffect]

"I understand." And Ian did. Between teaching, research, Kelly, and the rest of the tsunami of chaos in his life there was little time for anything. Though, sleep was even a rarity of late.

The contact is welcome but it doesn't stop the past from rearing up in Ian's mind. Closeness has meant anger, fighting, and abandonment too many times in his life. Why he's letting anyone else close is... chaos. The unexpected kink in the system that sends it spiraling on. Tension creeps in with the more intimate and caring touch. Closeness ruined everything in time.

"Did I.. uh.. not tell you two, three... enough times?" Ian asks. The tone friendly but with an air of mock disappointment. Then Loki is leaning against him. The tension increases in the pause and then slowly fades. Maybe comfort would be different. Ian has to shift to balance the additional weight leaning into him. The movements are slow but eventually one hand comes to rest in the center of Loki's back and the other at the back of his head. Ian cradles him without a word. He's been the person who stumbled in and needed contact enough times in the past to give Loki space and time without interruption.

[coldsong]

Ian couldn't have chosen anything more pleasing than the Butterfly Effect to compare Loki to, as far as the god is concerned. Whether he meant it the way Loki took it or not, he can't be sure, but he'll remember that comment for a long, long time. Because that is, in a sense, very much the Trickster's role. To upset the status quo in some small way that causes ripple effects on down the line.

Every little shift in Ian's breathing and body language is thoroughly noted and tracked. Tension growing then fading again. He's prepared to back off if need be, but oh, he hopes he won't be asked to. He releases a soft, shaky sigh as the man's hands come up to touch him, and for a moment there's absolute stillness around them, the air almost heavy with it. Loki's hands are cold when he's agitated, but when he calms, they warm up again.

After a moment he finds his hold on the other man has slipped to a clasp around his waist, almost like an uncertain grade-schooler trying to slow dance. "Sometimes people say things they think they mean," he explains, "then balk when they realize the consequences."

"Should we sit? I was, in fact, attempting to pick you up, not just checking in for a hug, but everything in its own time, mm?"

[malcolmeffect]

From Ian, the moniker was nearly a term of endearment. It was an association with one of his favorite intellectual topics, more affectionate than anything more emotional would be from Malcolm. Though, he would agree that there were many other meanings. It was all intentional.

By the time hands have slid down around his waist Ian is leaning into Loki. It's not only the need to pull weight off his brace either, though as they stood there that excuse passed his thoughts on multiple occasions. Malcolm snorts a laugh at the comment. "...But.. You see I study..uh the unpredictable consequences. I expect them."

It was true. As unexpected as, well what ever this was, grew to be Ian was able to adjust comfortably. Something unexpected was exactly what the Chaotician expected. In the relief of contact his hug tights a fraction.

Though, he has to pull away and release the hug to sit. Ian is surprised by his own reluctance to do so, even if sitting will relieve the pain starting in his leg from holding up more than his own weight. "I've had enough wives to notice." It's self deprecating in humor but gets a smile. "You're..uh.. not subtle."

[coldsong]

Loki can sense the other man's wariness, knows it's born from recent hurts. The last thing he wants is to demand too much for comfort or exacerbate those hurts, but now that he's being touched he can't resist the urge to wrap himself closer in these arms. He wants to savor the physical world, the sound of Ian's voice, the scent of him, the rhythm of his breath and heartbeat, and let more distant concerns be forgotten for now.

He lets his weight shift back onto his own heels somewhat, taking pressure off the human, pausing as he feels the embrace tighten. Maybe he's not the only one suffering from skin-hunger and the flush of new infatuation. Slowly and easily, he runs the flat of his palm up Ian's back and back down once more, stroking.

He'll move with him to the nearest place they can both sit, but he's in no hurry if he'd rather hang onto the hug.

"How very dare you," he says at the suggestion that he's not subtle. There's laughter in his voice. "I am the most skillful of seducers, I can be subtle when I want to be. Perhaps you just have me too flustered to practice my art with my usual aplomb."

[malcolmeffect]

Ian does need to sit and makes his way to the couch, propping the braced leg up on the coffee table. However, his demeanor, despite the pain, is open and welcoming. It wasn't that he wanted away from Loki but that he needed to rest his leg. The damned thing. He scowls briefly at it before brightening when he looks up at Loki moving to join him.

"Since the day we met?" He smiles but it's partially forced past the pain. "You need more practice."

The pain sometimes made him more playful and less restrained because it took mental effort to deal with, nevermind the effects of pain medication.

[coldsong]

Loki lets him go, watching to make sure he's not likely to stumble, but once he's settled, he joins him at his side, and his arms come back around him, loose and casual, but intimate. "The day we met," he reminds him, "I thought you were someone else at first. Someone who was known to simply pin me to the nearest surface when he wanted me, and therefore required less work to seduce."

It took plenty of work to keep the Grandmaster pleased with Loki, but not much effort needed to gain his physical attentions. Ian is very different; beneath the arrogance is something fragile that Loki wants to shore up and protect.

Case in point. "You're in pain," he murmurs. "May I assist, or would that be an intrusion?"

[malcolmeffect]

"I remember." Ian laughs, snorting with the humor. "I remember the look on your face when you noticed me."

Now that he thought about it there were a lot of happy memories with Loki, even if it was humor in the middle of something stressful.

"What would you do?" Ian asks curiously while staring at his propped up leg. No one had been able to do anything but dull the pain. Then again Loki was a god. Ian eventually sighs. "Do you have any pain that you've had so long or intensely that.. uh.. you worry about not having it be there?"