st_ormbreaker | In Tents

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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Thor watches as Tony peeks out, almost cat-like, from beneath the blanket, and it takes all his self control for him not to scritch the man behind the ears as if he were one.

It's at moments like these that he wishes Tony could see himself and perhaps have some understanding of how truly adorable he could be at practically any given moment. How Tony could manage to look adorable to Thor when he had his hand on his cock was utterly beyond Thor's comprehension. If Tony had not insisted upon his lack of magical prowess and Earth had not been known for its sorcerers, he might have thought he'd been enraptured by some sort of spell.

"If your hand is going to stay down there, I'd prefer your mouth to be up here." Thor taps a singular finger against his lower lip.

Obliging, Tony slinked out enough to nibble on his bottom lip as he massaged his Thor's crotch in full, harsh ministrations. He offered no relief to the mounting pressure, though he teased the zipper down by a few notches before pushing it back up.

"Do you know how long I spent--" he paused to let Thor's tongue drag across his teeth, "glamming the tent?"

"You are a tease, Tony," Thor informs Tony, as if the man wasn't abundantly aware and making a show of this particular fact. Thor is throbbing with want.

"How long?" he asks.

"Long enough. So let's do try and keep it in one piece." Tony wriggled his way back under the cover restlessly, dragging his tongue over the already-wet patch. Thor was getting worked up, and it gave him life.

"The tent is not self-repairing," Thor says, as if it's a reminder to himself. Sometimes, he can hardly believe they're living in a self-repairing inn in a pocket universe. Other times, he can't believe he's fucking Tony Stark. And then there are times like right now where he can hardly believe any of it at all.

Except --

Thor exhales, in a shuddery little gasp as Tony's tongue runs a path along its shaft in just the right way.

-- when he's having this good of a time, it's pretty hard to deny its existence.

"Fuck, Stark."

"I could keep it here." Very gentle use of teeth to apply pressure, and he kept Thor's inner thighs parted with his hands. "Make you ruin these nice pants of yours."

"I don't mind ruining my pants if it's --"

His mouth isn't even on his cock but fuck it if Tony doesn't have a natural knack for finding his weak points.

"-- if it's like this," Thor manages to finish. "Do you enjoy teasing me this much?"

"Few make it so easy." Tony blew on the dampened cloth like a candle. "I wanna tease you? You just sit there and let me. I wanna sit here and stare at it with the vague promise of doing something? You'd just sit there and let me."

Norns.

"You're the only one I'd let," Thor says. "Most of the time, I enjoy being the one in control of the situation. I'm -- ah!" Another breath. "-- willing to make an exception. For you."

Even though Thor wants desperately to reach for his cock and beat himself off right there, Tony's presence be damned. The man really is driving him wild.

"You're doing so well at resisting." Tony lazily squeezed his lips up and down every inch of his groin, swaying his hips from beneath the covering. "You know how easy it would be...? I don't even have my armor right now."

He sat up, letting the flap slide down slowly to expose his body in near-full. He took one of Thor's twitching hands, lifting it and letting Thor's fingertips hover bare millimeters from the skin of his smooth chest--simply playing with the digits before letting them drop. He smirked.

Edited 2018-09-14 05:06 (UTC)

Thor wants to swear because of course Tony's going to expose more and more of himself. He's certain that Tony's getting off on not getting him off and in some strange way, Thor finds himself getting off on that.

When Tony lifts his hand so the tips of his fingers are nearly brushing against his skin, it takes considerable self-control for him not to reach out and run his hands all over Tony's body, to press his mouth against his mouth, to run his run his tongue along the length of his cock. But when Tony drops his hand, Thor stubbornly lets it rest where it falls.

"Is this fun for you?" he asks breathily. "Watching me suffer?"

"I just wanna see when you'll break, Big Guy." Tony answered, leaning over him. "You could be doing anything you wanted and I wouldn't stop you."

Was Tony Stark a sadist? Probable.

Thor wants to push up and catch his teeth on Tony's lips, but he does't. Instead he stays still, looking up at Tony with real challenge in his eyes.

"Like what?"

Thor knows he shouldn't ask him. He knows his imagination alone is difficult enough to reign in right now when Tony is so close to him and his dick is throbbing with want.

But still, he asks it anyway.

"I think you're a little too merciful." Tony sat back, reaching over to one of the pockets lining the interior for that lotion. "'Asgardian stamina' this, 'godly libido' that and never more than two or three goes at a time. You get what I'm saying...?"

Thor lets out a little huff of laughter at that. Tony knows him too well.

"If I knew you could keep up, there'd be more than two or three goes at it a night," he says, goading him. "But you can't. So I'll just have to keep that particular fantasy a fantasy."

"Sounds like the crowing of an old god who just doesn't have it in him anymore." Came Tony's dismissive rebuttal, scooting back to perch on his knees. Off were finally coming the pants, inch by inch.

Embarrassed as he is, Thor offers no protest this time. Instead, he tilts his head back and stares up at their canvas ceiling, lit up with Tony's elaborate lighting fixtures and concentrates on that.

He focuses on it so he doesn't have to focus on the scratch of his denim against the back of his thigh or the way that Tony's fingers occasionally brush across his skin as he tugs his pants off.

He briefly retreats into his imagination, where he surges up and grips Tony's wrists and pins him down to the floor of the tent. To kiss the inside of his neck as his hand skims the length of Tony's penis before his fingers find that patch of skin between his asshole and his cock.

Thor wants to drive his partner as crazy as he feels right now. To hold back enough until he's as desperate as he feels right now. But right now, Thor finds himself at Tony's mercy, and Tony has done nothing that would force him to submit. He can just as easily let his fantasies become reality, but he doesn't.

He relinquishes control.

"How much longer are you going to deprive me?" he asks. It comes out more pleading than he wants it to. If he had the presence of mind he might have felt embarrassed at his own desperation. But right now, his erection is at the forefront of his mind and all he wants is for Tony to rip his pants off already and have at him.

Squeezing a bit of lotion his hands, Tony warmed the cream between his palms and massaged the expanse of Thor's broad chest. "I'm trying to pamper you, Big Guy. Don't you like it?"

Despite his words, he wasn't planning to drag it out all night. He was getting just as antsy.

"I absolutely adore it," Thor says. "I absolutely adore you, but I do not adore the way you tease me so."

Despite his words, Thor relaxes under Tony's touch with an audible sigh, and rests his eyes, just taking in the way his partner's hands move across his chest.

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."

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