Five times Loki abstained from sex.
She was cute and adorable and quite possibly completely wrapped around his finger. And staring into his eyes, quite possibly waiting for him to kiss her. Or more.
But that would be Wrong. Or, more to the point, that would be Too Soon. She'd either hate him in the morning or be far too attached in ways he didn't really want to deal with which would lead to her hating him in the end anyway. So he didn't kiss her, but he brushed her cheek with his fingertips and he smiled and asked, "have you ever been to a masquerade ball?"
Loki pushed Hermes off the side of the bed so the other god landed in a tangle of limbs and sheets on the floor. "To be honest, Hermes," drawled the Norse trickster, "I think I've got a headache tonight."
He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone. And she was right there beside him.
But she was also sweet and innocent and very determined that these things be done in the Right Fashion and therefore had made him promise to wait until they were married.
He'd promised, but that didn't make the wait any less torture.
Even if half of him wondered if she was more conniving than he'd given her credit for and had known he'd lose interest otherwise.
Women.
It wasn't by choice.
It was instead by the statue of Odin the girl kept in her bedroom.
How'd she expect him to do anything with the Old Man watching, Loki'd never know.
It was dark and the air was thick with heat and sweat from the bodies gyrating against one another in the confined space of the club. One girl had been making eyes at him all night and he certainly had been reciprocating.
Until she'd gotten close and he'd caught the scent of her perfume. It brought to mind long summer days, blue eyes, and a sense of guilt. He pushed her into the arms of some leather-clad young man and stalked out of the club.
He'd lost his appetite.
But that would be Wrong. Or, more to the point, that would be Too Soon. She'd either hate him in the morning or be far too attached in ways he didn't really want to deal with which would lead to her hating him in the end anyway. So he didn't kiss her, but he brushed her cheek with his fingertips and he smiled and asked, "have you ever been to a masquerade ball?"
Loki pushed Hermes off the side of the bed so the other god landed in a tangle of limbs and sheets on the floor. "To be honest, Hermes," drawled the Norse trickster, "I think I've got a headache tonight."
He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone. And she was right there beside him.
But she was also sweet and innocent and very determined that these things be done in the Right Fashion and therefore had made him promise to wait until they were married.
He'd promised, but that didn't make the wait any less torture.
Even if half of him wondered if she was more conniving than he'd given her credit for and had known he'd lose interest otherwise.
Women.
It wasn't by choice.
It was instead by the statue of Odin the girl kept in her bedroom.
How'd she expect him to do anything with the Old Man watching, Loki'd never know.
It was dark and the air was thick with heat and sweat from the bodies gyrating against one another in the confined space of the club. One girl had been making eyes at him all night and he certainly had been reciprocating.
Until she'd gotten close and he'd caught the scent of her perfume. It brought to mind long summer days, blue eyes, and a sense of guilt. He pushed her into the arms of some leather-clad young man and stalked out of the club.
He'd lost his appetite.