st_ormbreaker | In Tents

Thor hasn't gone camping in a few years.

The last time he went camping, it was with Jane Foster, Darcy, and Darcy's intern, who Thor was pretty convinced was her boyfriend. For most of the trip, Darcy and her intern were fighting loudly; Jane was constantly on her cellular phone because her calls kept dropping and there was some emergency at a conference she was guest speaking at; Thor spent much of that first evening casually eating a bag and a half of marshmallows at the fire before Darcy voiced her protest and he was barred from eating more for the rest of the trip, much to Thor's dismay.

Thor might have overpacked for the trip, but Thor was of the mind that it was better to be overprepared than under -- and that it was better to have too many marshmallows than not enough. When four hours had passed and they reached their destination, he set down their belongings and began to set up camp.

"I never pegged you for the camping type," Thor says, pulling the tent poles out of their sheath. Maybe he was, and Thor had just never known it. It just always seemed like Tony was into tech so much that he couldn't stand to be without it.

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While one hand worked to work the muscle, the other reached down to lift a small tube of something else rather important that Tony had taken the time to pack away. With utmost casualness, he squeezed a generous amount of the cool lubricant on his partner's arousal in a steady stream before tossing the tube back to the side. Cleaning came after.

In utter opposition to his protracted teasing up until then, mere seconds passed between Tony coating his nethers, lifting himself up and sinking down onto his hips with a shaky sigh while Thor still had his eyes shut.

'So much for the "no bare backing" creed...'

Thor's eye shoot open as Tony sinks down upon him, and he bites his lower lip.

When he finally opens his mouth again, it's to inhale sharply, and then exhale in a long string of words. "I am dead serious when I say this, Stark, but I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to hold out."

Thor doesn't at all remember it, but his hands are somehow on the sides of Tony's thighs now. He loves those thighs.

With a chuckle, Tony hinged at the hip and leaned into a ghost of a kiss. He began moving--pushing, pulling, and angling all on his own. With as many times as they had gotten up to it, he had become increasingly familiar with the way Thor's body fit against his and what they both liked--not that Thor was a particularly difficult partner to please.

"Damn lucky for you, I'll take that as a compliment." What Tony didn't admit to was ditto.

"You should."

Thor reaches up and presses a hand against Tony's face, his thumb tracing a line across his cheek. Everything has been exhausting about this night: him pushing Tony to talk about something he didn't want to talk about; Tony fighting the long way; Tony asking him to tell Loki; them parting ways; them coming back, and Thor agreeing to talk to him.

And then this.

Part of Thor thinks he should be worried or angry or sad because he's been any combination of the three for months now. Loki is still in the back of his mind, even while they're fucking and Tony's hips are moving with that perfect rhythm. That alone should make him worried-sad, but he doesn't feel it.

He's so grateful for these moments with Tony. Not just when they're sleeping together, but when they're in bed and Thor is holding him as he sleeps and he can feel his smaller back pressed against his chest, or when he brings Tony breakfast that still isn't all that great, but Tony still nibbles at it in his typical Stark-like fashion. Because in those moments, he is granted some small reprieve from everything.

In an inn with a pocket dimension filled with people from different timelines and different worlds coming in from different times, things feel practically normal.

Thor knows he should tell Tony that. He knows better than anyone that at any moment, the opportunity to say these things might be snuffed out. But somehow, he can't bring himself to say it.

When he finds himself coming close to climax, the hand that was on his thigh suddenly presses itself against Tony's back and he pulls Tony close to him urgently. He kisses the neck, his cheek his temple, and when he finally cums, he hugs Tony tightly, until he regains the ability to think coherently, and it occurs to him that he might be holding Tony a little too tight and his hold on him slackens.

Thor looks up at the ceiling at Tony's lights and he smiles. He turns, his lips so close to Tony's ear that they briefly graze it.

"Thank you."

Holding out was too hard. It was easy to come when Thor did, for as long as he had held out up until that point. The back-and-forths, the emotional and physical toll that the day wrought had been building up to this, and Tony utterly let go, melted into Thor's grip. Though he was thankful for the mindfulness of his strength on the other man's part, as much longer and he would have lost sensation in his legs.

Still connected, Tony pushed back up by inches after a long minute of slowly falling prey to the urge to simply fall asleep there and then. With the last of his will, he resisted.

"You, my friend," He knocked foreheads, "Are on a breathtakingly short list of individuals whom I'd willingly stick around the morning after for."

If there was a higher compliment Tony Stark could give a partner, it was unknown, even to himself. His forehead fell against Thor's chin.

It's such a strange way for Tony to say that he enjoys his company, but Thor finds himself liking it anyway.

Thor smiles.

"I would tell you I felt the same, but I always stay until the next morning," he says. Tony's forehead resting on his chin makes it difficult for him to speak comfortably, but Thor doesn't move him. "Most times out of obligation. You aren't an obligation."

"Thanks." Dry as ever, as his responses to Thor's compliments tended to be, Tony re-positioned himself to lay comfortably flat atop his form. The scent of sweat was thick against Thor's neck, and the ventilation kicked in in a timely manner, bringing in the night air.

"You're more than a means to keep sane."

Thor rests a hand on the back of Tony's head.

"Thank you," Thor echoes back, though his words come out considerably warmer. "I never thought that I was."

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