Erik had been avoiding any sort of commitment for several months now. The people he called his friends had begun shaking their heads at him, spouting out studies that had been done on ‘Self-destructive activities’ and it was all bullshit he told himself. But in one moment of weakness, he -Erik Lensherr- had admitted he might have a problem. He didn’t know what it was. The only thing he did know was that they’d stopped when he had told them he was getting one of those companions or cats or something. And that was why he was here, at the Shelter, as they called it, and strolling down the long aisles of cages.

“What the hell am I even doing…” He mutters.

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When he steps into the little room that night, he immediately thinks he should have refused Charles more. His scent fills the entire room. This is where the Faunling spends his nights. This is where he sleeps, where he- Stop there, Erik. Don’t think any further on the subject. You shouldn’t be thinking of the Faun that saved you having a wet dream in this room, on this bed. Damnit!

He’s not getting any sleep tonight, the Satyr thinks as he lies down, instinctively breathing in the now intoxicating smell of books, herbs, and the woods.

Greg Lestrade’s eyes crinkled tightly as he gained consciousness. He breathes deeply, the scent of coffee and a whiff of what he has come to consider Mycroft’s personal scent giving him the last push to wakefulness. Sitting up and getting out of bed is only slightly more arduous than most mornings, for which he can’t only blame his aging body.

He pads out to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to watch his lover stand at the counter, pouring out two mugs of the dark liquid.

“You didn’t have to get up, Gregory. I was going to bring yours to you.” The other man turns to him, smiling and holding out a mug.

Greg mumbles his thanks, gingerly sitting down at the table. “Would have needed to get up anyway. I doubt the criminal classes have decided to have a late morning in.”

Mycroft steps close, pressing a lingering kiss to his hairline, and sighs. “Perhaps. But a few minutes more wouldn’t have ruined you.”

ladyfayte:

ladyfayte:

ladyfayte:

Loki is curled up in luxurious silken sheets, a Midgardian novelty that both he and Thor had grown fond of, simply enjoying a midday rest. He’s not avoiding the warriors three and Lady Sif. That’d be ridiculous. It’s not as if he’d frozen their weapons in one of the more remote gardens. The god of mischief smirks into his pillow.

He hasn’t heard any thunder, so it’s fairly certain that Thor has not gotten involved this time. Rolling over, he eyes the door. What he would like, at this very moment, is his once-brother in bed with him, making it warm and even more comfortable. He groans, remembering that the demigod is off rescuing Midgard from someone who is decidedly not him.

Standing in the rubble of some Midgardian township whose name he’s forgotten in the tussle, Thor glances up at the celestial being his teammates call the ‘Sun’. As much as he loves the outdoors, and fighting, he’s sorely missing Loki. His heart aches at the thought of the smaller male, back in Asgard, probably crafting some insane ploy or trick to play on their friends. With a shake of his head, he goes to join the man of iron, who is directing some of the agents in charge of clearing the debris.

“Man of iron!” He bellows.

“Yeah, y’know Tony would be great. Anytime you get tired of shouting that.”

Thor laughs. “My friend, I do not tire of your name. I do, however, long to return to Asgard.”

“What, missing your fuck buddy already, big man?”

On an average day, the great Thor would never let such a slight pass by unanswered. But today is not quite average, so instead he smiles broadly and turns, replying over his shoulder.

“Loki is far more than that, man of iron. If you ever say that of him again, you will find yourself facing my wrath.”

He continues away from the man, out into the open area, and calls on Heimdall to open the portal. He’s back in Asgard before he hears Tony Stark answer.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he hears is the door to Thor’s -and by extension his- chambers. Immediately, he draws his magic to himself ready to attack the invader, stopping only when he recognizes the blonde hair and brilliant smile. Loki falls back on the bed, sighing with what should not sound so much akin to relief.

For his part, Thor just continues smiling, quickly stripping out of his armor and sliding into bed. As his arms embrace the smaller male, he feels lips on his jaw.

“Welcome home.” Murmurs the dark haired god.

He smiles, pulling him close for a kiss and feeling him hum in contentment. One hand slips down, cupping a firm arse cheek and stroking at the bare skin.

“I’m home, my love.” Another kiss, this time deeper, Loki tonguing at his lips.

Thor rolls the two of them over, sucking Loki’s tongue into his mouth. It earns him a low moan and fingers tangling in his hair. The blonde growls, settling between pale legs. Pulling away, he grins down at his lover.

“You have missed me, haven’t you, Loki?” He nips at the collar bone of the man he once called brother.

Loki gasps quietly, fingers scraping down the broad back above him. Thor grinds down, the two of them rubbing against each other in practiced accuracy. He bites and sucks along the ivory neck that is exposed in Loki’s arch of pleasure.

“Thor!” A whine as a tanned hand wraps around the two cocks. “Please!”

“Be clear, love. Tell me what you need.” He knows what it is, and he’ll give it to him regardless. But he likes to hear it from those reddened lips.

ladyfayte:

ladyfayte:

Loki is curled up in luxurious silken sheets, a Midgardian novelty that both he and Thor had grown fond of, simply enjoying a midday rest. He’s not avoiding the warriors three and Lady Sif. That’d be ridiculous. It’s not as if he’d frozen their weapons in one of the more remote gardens. The god of mischief smirks into his pillow.

He hasn’t heard any thunder, so it’s fairly certain that Thor has not gotten involved this time. Rolling over, he eyes the door. What he would like, at this very moment, is his once-brother in bed with him, making it warm and even more comfortable. He groans, remembering that the demigod is off rescuing Midgard from someone who is decidedly not him.

Standing in the rubble of some Midgardian township whose name he’s forgotten in the tussle, Thor glances up at the celestial being his teammates call the ‘Sun’. As much as he loves the outdoors, and fighting, he’s sorely missing Loki. His heart aches at the thought of the smaller male, back in Asgard, probably crafting some insane ploy or trick to play on their friends. With a shake of his head, he goes to join the man of iron, who is directing some of the agents in charge of clearing the debris.

“Man of iron!” He bellows.

“Yeah, y’know Tony would be great. Anytime you get tired of shouting that.”

Thor laughs. “My friend, I do not tire of your name. I do, however, long to return to Asgard.”

“What, missing your fuck buddy already, big man?”

On an average day, the great Thor would never let such a slight pass by unanswered. But today is not quite average, so instead he smiles broadly and turns, replying over his shoulder.

“Loki is far more than that, man of iron. If you ever say that of him again, you will find yourself facing my wrath.”

He continues away from the man, out into the open area, and calls on Heimdall to open the portal. He’s back in Asgard before he hears Tony Stark answer.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he hears is the door to Thor’s -and by extension his- chambers. Immediately, he draws his magic to himself ready to attack the invader, stopping only when he recognizes the blonde hair and brilliant smile. Loki falls back on the bed, sighing with what should not sound so much akin to relief.

For his part, Thor just continues smiling, quickly stripping out of his armor and sliding into bed. As his arms embrace the smaller male, he feels lips on his jaw.

“Welcome home.” Murmurs the dark haired god.

He smiles, pulling him close for a kiss and feeling him hum in contentment. One hand slips down, cupping a firm arse cheek and stroking at the bare skin.

“I’m home, my love.” Another kiss, this time deeper, Loki tonguing at his lips.

ladyfayte:

Loki is curled up in luxurious silken sheets, a Midgardian novelty that both he and Thor had grown fond of, simply enjoying a midday rest. He’s not avoiding the warriors three and Lady Sif. That’d be ridiculous. It’s not as if he’d frozen their weapons in one of the more remote gardens. The god of mischief smirks into his pillow.

He hasn’t heard any thunder, so it’s fairly certain that Thor has not gotten involved this time. Rolling over, he eyes the door. What he would like, at this very moment, is his once-brother in bed with him, making it warm and even more comfortable. He groans, remembering that the demigod is off rescuing Midgard from someone who is decidedly not him.

Standing in the rubble of some Midgardian township whose name he’s forgotten in the tussle, Thor glances up at the celestial being his teammates call the ‘Sun’. As much as he loves the outdoors, and fighting, he’s sorely missing Loki. His heart aches at the thought of the smaller male, back in Asgard, probably crafting some insane ploy or trick to play on their friends. With a shake of his head, he goes to join the man of iron, who is directing some of the agents in charge of clearing the debris.

“Man of iron!” He bellows.

“Yeah, y’know Tony would be great. Anytime you get tired of shouting that.”

Thor laughs. “My friend, I do not tire of your name. I do, however, long to return to Asgard.”

“What, missing your fuck buddy already, big man?”

On an average day, the great Thor would never let such a slight pass by unanswered. But today is not quite average, so instead he smiles broadly and turns, replying over his shoulder.

“Loki is far more than that, man of iron. If you ever say that of him again, you will find yourself facing my wrath.”

He continues away from the man, out into the open area, and calls on Heimdall to open the portal. He’s back in Asgard before he hears Tony Stark answer.

Loki is curled up in luxurious silken sheets, a Midgardian novelty that both he and Thor had grown fond of, simply enjoying a midday rest. He’s not avoiding the warriors three and Lady Sif. That’d be ridiculous. It’s not as if he’d frozen their weapons in one of the more remote gardens. The god of mischief smirks into his pillow.

He hasn’t heard any thunder, so it’s fairly certain that Thor has not gotten involved this time. Rolling over, he eyes the door. What he would like, at this very moment, is his once-brother in bed with him, making it warm and even more comfortable. He groans, remembering that the demigod is off rescuing Midgard from someone who is decidedly not him.

ladyfayte:

This had to be bordering on obsession. Because, god damn it all, Erik was staring. Again.  He looked away quickly, thinking that he’d already made a fool of himself once this week. He’d nearly destroyed the entire classroom -on his first day no less!- because those vibrant blue eyes had fixated on him.

He’d taken to wondering what the other male’s power was, rather than the lecture. At this school, it was nearly guaranteed that he had a mutation. Perhaps it was just in his appearance, since that was eerily captivating. But something was odd about him, aside from that.

Somehow, Erik got up the courage to talk to the boy, and learned his name. Charles. Learning he was a telepath was a frightening experience, at least until Charles had assured him that he hadn’t -and wouldn’t- read his mind. He’s grateful -but almost disappointed- that his new friend has no idea about his feelings.

It’s what he finds out a few days later that pushes him towards confessing.
Charles is being bullied, by a teacher’s assistant - Sebastian Shaw. The older male is an ass, as Raven tells him, putting students through cruel teasing sessions. ‘Making them stronger as a person’, she mimics sarcastically.

Erik has had a run in with Shaw before, on his second day. When he’d been approached, he had shrugged it off. Finding it annoying -he’d gone through this before- he’d given warning and stalked off to find Charles.

It isn’t until he sees Shaw towering over the shorter male, and hears exactly what’s being said that he goes into action.
You can mess with Erik Lensherr all you want, but friends are utterly off limits. He tugs on the metal of Shaw’s trousers, forces him back and away from Charles and steps quickly between them. With a more force and a few choice words, the man is sent off for the moment.

“Alright, Charles?”
“Erik… Yes, of course.” He shakes his head.
“He didn’t hit you, did he? I’ll hunt him down if he did.” Erik scowls in the direction Shaw had left. 

This had to be bordering on obsession. Because, god damn it all, Erik was staring. Again.  He looked away quickly, thinking that he’d already made a fool of himself once this week. He’d nearly destroyed the entire classroom -on his first day no less!- because those vibrant blue eyes had fixated on him.

He’d taken to wondering what the other male’s power was, rather than the lecture. At this school, it was nearly guaranteed that he had a mutation. Perhaps it was just in his appearance, since that was eerily captivating. But something was odd about him, aside from that.