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“I—I have an idea?”
They’re in Loki’s new apartment, curtesy of some generous SDN stipends. The studio is littered with mismatched knick-knacks and secondhand furniture kindly gifted by Herman’s coworkers during one of the more bizarre housewarming parties Loki has attended. An old box TV is crackling out what could vaguely be described as The Lost Boys—they’re just getting through the credits sequence as the chorus of “Cry Little Sister” plays through tinny speakers.
Herman is pretty horrific when it comes to public displays of affection, so Loki wasn’t surprised to learn that his…the boy he’s seeing isn’t exactly touchy in private. They’re seated on opposite sides of his pullout couch, hands barely ghosting over each other in between them. Herm had let out a little high-pitched noise when the other man had reached out to graze his knuckles, but didn’t pull away. Thankfully Loki waterproofed the couch as soon as he got it, or the stream of water that had followed the contact would have ruined the fabric.
If he’d had it his way, he’d be playing with Herman’s hair as his head rested in his lap, but Loki’s still too apprehensive to do much more than follow the other’s lead. After all, less than a month ago he was manhandling the guy in service of the Red Ring. He can understand why his touch might not be totally welcome.
But wait, okay. “An idea?” He glances across the couch to Herman, fiddling with his own hands and flushing as red as his hair. The plastic covering on the couch is depressing slightly into the plush cushion from the amount of water pooling into it. Loki should find it inconvenient, but somehow Herman’s embarrassment never gets old, even when it threatens to ruin his upholstery.
“Y—yeah, I…I know we’re—we’ve—kissed and done—other things…” The other things in question were drunken groping sessions over clothes, on this exact couch or in a stall of the bathrooms at the Sardine. Something in Loki always stops him from going any further, choosing instead to pause and then send the other man on his way. Whatever they’re working up to, it feels more important than a tipsy hookup or worse, drunk sex. Anyway, he gets the sense that Herman’s inexperience extends beyond just mixing up words and social cues, and it wouldn’t feel fair to him to get to anything more than second base without a proper conversation.
“Other stuff?” he prompts, causing Herman to blush even deeper.
“Yeah—yes, and I was wonder—thinking—there’s something I would like—would want, and you’re—I trust you! A—a lot, more than I’ve—trusted before…”
“Dude, you’re talking in circles.” Loki scoots closer and puts a careful hand on Herman’s leg. “Do you have something you want to try?” He struggles with a way to phrase a good clarifying question. “You want to get more intimate? Or is there some kind of fantasy you want to tell me about?”
At the word “fantasy” Herman’s breathing visibly stutters. Got it. “Okay, you’ve got some scenario you want to…explore with me? What were you thinking?” The hand on his leg slides up and down along the spandex as Loki tries hard to soothe the literal wet cat of a man beside him into stringing together a full sentence.
“Okay, I—um—well, you know—I’ve always—wanted to be—to save people—be a hero? And…one of the—they’re always getting—caught, the villains are always—capturing them…” Herman’s voice is getting smaller, reaching a higher pitch as he plays rapid-fire cat’s cradle with his fingers. Water and sweat are pouring off of him in literal waves.
“So you fantasize about…being captured? No offense man, but that wasn’t exactly the vibe I got when we met.” Loki laughs and shifts until he’s facing Herman completely. “I think I would have noticed if you were getting your rocks off then. Your suit doesn’t exactly leave much to the…imagination.”
At that, he flicks lightly at the outline of a rock-hard nipple that’s become visible over the course of their conversation. Herman yelps and exhales a stuttering moan at the back of his throat. “Ah! Yeah—yeah, that wasn’t—in real life it’s much—it’s scarier when you think—think you’re going to—that they’ll kill you.”
Ah, got it. “But I’m not gonna kill you, am I?” Herman shakes his head. “Okay then…” Loki slaps his hands on his thighs as he rises, grabbing a dining chair from a corner of the apartment he’s mentally labeled “No Idea Where to Actually Put This Stuff”. He taps the top of the chair lightly. “Sit. And then you tell me how you want to do this.”
His tone is different, authoritative in a way that clearly spurs Herman into action, the same red flush still painting his entire facw and neck. He sits down hard in the chair, his limbs splaying out with the force, and immediately curls into himself, his breathing hitching slightly. God, this kid is going to be the death of him.
Seconds tick by in silence as Herman struggles to attain any kind of composure. “Come on, babe,” Loki prompts gently. “I need you to tell me what you want so I can make sure you don’t feel like I’m going to kill you.”
“Mhmm—yup, okay—okay—“ Herman stammers. He’s looking anywhere but Loki—the walls, the ceiling, the staticky blank screen of the box TV. “Well in—like comics? Or old—old shows they um—tie—tie them—up? And then—they sort of—well sometimes they—they’re too loud so—“
“Herman.” Loki crouches in front of the chair. He’s halfway between himself and the persona he’s feeling coming out of Herman’s descriptions. The man wants to be controlled, threatened, maybe even degraded a bit. Stupid hero thinking he can save the world when he can’t even save himself. There’s a warmth pooling in his stomach suddenly. “I need you to tell me what you want. Not what happens in comic books.” He lowers his tone, dropping his voice into a breathy growl. “What do you want me to do to you?”
Herman squeaks, his hands flying to his face at the sound of the question. Loki puts a hand on his knee, partially to ground him and also so he can push his legs more apart and peek at the half-tent in the crotch of Herman’s suit. Jesus, this is really getting him off.
“I—I want you to—to tie me up and tease me!” Herman forces out the sentence in one go, somewhere between a shout and a whine. “Like—like tell me how—useless I—I am and—that no one’s coming—gonna save me and—stuff…”
“Okay, see? That wasn’t so hard.” Oh my God, all he’d need to do is say the word and Loki would take this boy apart like it was his job. He wrenches his mind away from the mental image of bending Herman over his shitty coffee table and back to the conversation they need to keep having. “Do I have permission to touch you?” He demonstrates what he means by sneaking his hand up Herman’s leg, stopping just at his inner thigh. Loki looks to the other man for permission and Herman nods, slowly. It feels like he’s still working up the nerve to admit what he’s already admitted. Or he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that Loki is very much into this. Like very into this, to the point that he’s surprising himself.
“Okay.” He stands, trying to ignore the way his jeans shift against his own cock at the movement. Damn thing is half-risen to attention at the idea of tying up a cute boy and having his way with him. “We’re gonna use the stoplight system. Do you know what that is?”
Herman nods again. He’s uncurled his limbs from the chair to watch the other man. His whole body seems to be vibrating with anticipation. “Gr—green is good, yellow is hold—slow down, red is—means stop.”
“Good boy.” Herman’s leg twitches at the praise and his breathing hitches again. Oh, so noted. Filing that away. “If I gag you, I want you to snap your fingers instead. Once for okay, twice if you need me to stop.”
“I-If?”
The warmth in Loki’s stomach swoops at the question. “Do you want me to gag you?”
“Well maybe—maybe not right aw—immediately, but…yes?” The flush painting Herman’s cheeks has gone splotchy as sweat and water continue to pour out of him. “P-please…”
Loki nearly passes out with the amount of blood that rushes immediately to his dick. “God, Herman…” The name is almost a moan. Maybe it is. So what if it is? Herman is a very moanable name, in his opinion.
“Stay right there. Don’t you dare move.” Loki turns and practically runs to his storage closet, where he knows a few lengths of black rope are lying on a dark shelf. It’s not like he didn’t already know bondage was a thing for him, but this is so far past learning how to do a pentacle harness from a kink YouTuber on a lonely Friday night. He’s practically salivating at the idea of Herman trapped and squirming in his knot-work.
Loki grabs the rope, along with duct tape, a dull utility knife he still hasn’t tossed (thank God) and few cloth napkins for an imagined dinner party he’ll never actually throw. He returns to his living room where Herman is sitting stock still. He probably should have laid down a towel or something—the cheap carpet is already soaked through as water drips down the legs of the chair. Herman is watching him, his breathing ragged, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide in anticipation. Loki circles behind him, pulls one of the napkins tight over his eyes, and Herman gasps at the loss of sight. His hips jerk up out of the chair slightly as Loki ties the blindfold off behind his head.
“Shut the hell up, freak,” Loki growls, “and fucking sit still.” The voice feels a bit strange, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He’s playing a character, after all. He crouches next, grabbing both of Herman’s wrists tightly and pinning them behind the chair before securing them together with the rope. The extra length is looped around and over his hips, pinning down any extra movement.
Next, Loki moves around him to grab Herman’s ankles and another length of rope. He ties each ankle to the back legs of the chair, not dissimilar to the way Herman was bound when they first met. The configuration forces Herman’s knees to bend down and forward, exposing his crotch and the now-full erection straining through the fabric of the spandex. Loki drools—actually drools—at the sight of him, knees shaking as he pulls desperately against the ropes in order to close his legs and hide his obvious arousal.
“Aw, is Waterboy really that needy? Does getting pushed around by another man make you wanna cum in that suit of yours?” He’s improvising, heavily, still trying to figure out exactly what direction he wants to take this, but Herman whimpers and Loki knows he’s on the right track.
A thought suddenly occurs to him. “Wait, timeout. Can I hit you? Not hard, just slapping or—“
“P—please.” Herman’s voice is high-pitched and breathy. Loki looks up at his face to see that the blindfold has already been soaked through, water running down Herman’s face and into the corners of his open mouth as he breathes heavily. “God, please—“
Loki slaps him across the face and he moans again, head whipped to the side. Taking the opportunity while he’s dazed, Loki peels back the blindfold to reveal blue-gray eyes filled with equal parts fear and arousal.
“Waterboy.” Loki smiled darkly at Herman, fully in character now. “Today must be my lucky day. Clumsy super sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong and ends up completely at my mercy. Tell me…” He moves behind the chair, slipping the dull utility knife out of his pocket. “Does anyone from that idiotic dispatch network know that you’re here?”
Herman’s eyes widen slightly and his breathing hitches. “N—no, they don’t know, I—I went off alone, they don’t even—they can’t s—see where I—nnngh!”
Loki pulls his head back sharply by his hair, flipping open the knife and holding the blade against Herman’s shaking throat. “Then who do you think is going to come save you?”
Herman makes a sound that very nearly buckles Loki’s knees. His eyes roll back slightly as he struggles to form words, hips bucking slightly against the rope holding them down. “F—fuck…” The exhaled expletive, an extremely rare occurrence from Herman, goes straight to Loki’s own throbbing dick.
“That’s right, Waterboy,” Loki exhales Herman’s hero name into his ear like each syllable is sweet on his tongue. “It’s just you and me now. Not like anyone will notice you’re gone given how…” He stumbles, feeling unsure about the next few words. Herman asked for it explicitly, but it still doesn’t feel fair, especially coming from someone he clearly trusts. “…how useless you are.”
“P—please…” Jesus fucking Christ. Any apprehension in Loki immediately melts away. The man is actually begging, babbling half-consonants, his eyes wet with a mix of tears and his own water. “P—please don’t—please don’t hurt me, I—you d—don’t have to—“
“Hurt you?” Loki laughs. “You think I want to hurt you? You’re even stupider than I thought you were.” He twists his grip on his hair and sinks his teeth into Herman’s neck to suck a dark bruise into his skin. Herman bucks his hips and lets out a sharp moan, biting his lip hard to stifle the sound. Loki lets go of Herman’s hair and moves back to the front of the chair, keeping the dull edge of the knife pressed to his windpipe. “No, I’ve got a much more interesting way to deal with you. You’ve practically brought it to me on a platter, after all.”
His free hand flicks Herman’s erection, bouncing it slightly and causing the man to wrench his head back with a whimper. Tears are streaming down his face now in full force and he sobs brokenly.
“Woah, okay, hey.” Loki lowers the knife and cups Herman’s face, smoothing tears into his flushed and patchy skin. “Hey, hey, how are we doing? Red, yellow—“
“Green,” Herman chokes out. He’s looking at Loki with a cloudy, half-lidded lustful desperation the other man could absolutely get used to. “Go—d, so green, p—please, Lok—i, sir, don’t stop—p, touch—“
The sentence dissolves into a low groan as Loki runs his finger around the circumference of Herman’s tip. He exhales, falling back into the fantasy, then grins again. “What was that, Waterboy? I can’t understand you when you mumble like that. Was that supposed to be you begging me for mercy?”
“Ye—es, yes, o—hhh, fuck, plea—se!” Herman’s hips are shaking the chair with the force of their movement, his eyes squeezed shut. His arms twitch as he struggles against the ropes binding them, clearly desperate to give himself more stimulation than Loki’s feather-light touches are providing.
“Pathetic.” Loki moves his hand from his cock to slap him again, then shoves the other napkin into his open mouth. Herman moans around his fingers as he holds the cloth in place. “You sound like a whore. What would your team say if they could hear you right now? I bet they’d be embarrassed to work with you.” He rips off a strip of tape, smoothing it harshly over Herman’s face and sealing the napkin in. “You call yourself a hero, but a villain barely touching your cock has you screaming like a bitch in heat.”
Herman babbles desperately behind the gag, full sobs wracking his body. Even with his ability to speak gone, Loki can still tell that he’s begging, though if it’s for release or for…release, he can’t tell. He listens a moment for the sound of fingers snapping, but when the only sound Herman makes are more muffled vowels, he’s satisfied and kneels until he’s face to face with the man’s weeping cock.
With the amount of precum staining Herman’s suit right now, Loki wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have anything left to give when he actually comes. His whole crotch is dark with dampness, his dick twitching frantically, begging to be touched. Loki feels around until he finds the small zipper just below his belly button, allowing him to pull the super’s cock free from the spandex without needing to struggle with the rest of the suit.
“God…” This is his first time properly seeing Herman’s dick and it is…practically pornographic. He knew he was big, but this is more length than even the suit could communicate. It’s soaked with watery precum, the tip flushed an angry red that matches the rest of Herman’s body right now. There’s a soft patch of reddish-brown pubic hair at the base that Loki would give anything to nose against as he took Herman down his throat. In fact…“I bet you taste fucking incredible.”
Herman’s eyes widen above the gag, and Loki repositions himself quickly, sinking his lips over his length before he can react. It’s a good thing Herman’s mouth is covered, or the scream of pleasure he lets out would be the cause of several noise complaints extending multiple floors up. Loki bobs his head slowly, running his tongue along Herman’s shaft while his hands grasp his base firmly and begin to stroke. The precum and the water constantly dripping from the other man’s body make for an effective lubricant and he tastes…Loki could get addicted to it. Salty and musky and slightly sweet, yet somehow still…watery. He groans around Herman, feeling the vibrations pulsing along his length as his own cock twitches again. Herman is practically hyperventilating, hips jutting upwards, trying to match Loki’s rhythm as he struggles to fuck his mouth.
After only a few minutes, Loki can feel Herman’s muscles seize, indicating an imminent release. His hand tightens over Herman’s base, wrenching another muffled sob from the man above him as he slides his mouth off of his dick with a pop. “You’re already close? You really are pathetic.” He traces a pattern into Herman’s thigh with his finger as his other hand holds down the man’s desperate bucking and straining for any kind of friction. “You wanna cum for me, Waterboy? Then beg me. Show me and the rest of the world how much of a hero you really are that you’d debase yourself like this. Go on, beg.”
“Nnnf—‘leeh—‘MLEEH, gnnfh—nmngh, ‘mleeh—“ Herman can barely form the syllable around the cloth in his mouth, but he makes a concerted effort, rocking the chair as he struggles against his restraints. Loki wants to bottle up the sounds he’s making and inhale them like perfume whenever he needs to get himself off. Any earlier comparisons to porn now feel entirely unfair—someone could charge him millions for this and he’d still pay up. “Knnn—mmgnn, ‘leeeeeh, unngh—fffff—mmmmgh—“
Loki loosens his grip and strokes Herman once, hard. It’s all the man needs, his entire body seizing with the force of his orgasm as his twitching cock spills rope after rope of cum. Most of it lands on Loki’s face and he licks at it greedily, reveling in the stupidly addictive taste as waves of pleasure rock through Herman’s body and he sobs into his gag. Loki keeps stroking him, coaxing him through the aftershocks until Herman collapses bonelessly against the back of the chair. Then he lets him go, reaching up to gently peel the tape off of Herman’s mouth and retrieve the soaked napkin.
“Hey, pretty boy.” Herman looks at him with half-lidded eyes streaming with tears, still blissed out in the afterglow of what looked like an incredible fucking orgasm. Loki cups his face in his hands again. “You alright?”
“Y—yes, that was—ughhh…” Herman sniffles and leans his weight into the other man’s hands, closing his eyes. “Th—thank you, I’m—can’t believe that was s—so—amaz—incredible.”
“That was all you, dude.” Loki gives him a quick peck on the lips, then moves behind the chair to unbind his hands. “You were fucking incredible.”
“You—you don’t mean—you’re just say—saying that.”
“You didn’t see yourself.” Loki finishes with the knot and pulls the rope away, allowing Herman to shake out his wrists and tuck his length away with a small whimper—still oversensitive. Light marks circle each wrist from the force with which Herman was struggling. Loki doesn’t want to think about what his coworkers are going to say about them tomorrow. “I’m serious, I’ll be thinking about those sounds you were making…for the rest of my life, probably.”
Herman sniffs again, but doesn’t argue. When Loki moves in front of him to untie his ankles, Herman instead pulls him onto his lap, burying his face in the shorter man’s hair. “Th—thank you for—that, it was—I really liked—enjoyed it.”
“Hey, thanks for trusting me with this. I fucking loved it,” Loki chuckles, reaching up to stroke the hair at the base of Herman’s neck. “Already thinking about what I’m gonna do to you next time.” His cock, still untouched, twitches at the thought.
“N—next time?”
“Oh, absolutely. You don’t think this was a one time thing, do you?” Loki pulls his head back to catch Herman’s utterly bewildered expression. “I’m thinking, maybe a frog-tie…you on your knees, hands tied behind your head…maybe I finally get that prostate massager I’ve been meaning to buy…”
Herman squeaks and buries his head in his hands. “You—you’re such—“ he mumbles. “Sometimes I s—still can’t believe you—that you’re here like—like this.”
Loki bats Herman’s hands away from his face and pulls him closer, locking eyes with him. “Hey, none of that! Herman.” He does his best to emphasize every word. “I am not going anywhere. I like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot.” To prove his point, he pulls Herman into a soft, slightly longer kiss. Meeting his eyes again, Loki can feel that deep, warm affection he has for the super flaring up like a hearth. “And frankly, we’ve both been through the wringer, relationship-wise. So as long as you don’t mind that I used to work for your employer’s worst enemy, do not worry about me going anywhere, okay?”
“W—well, of cour—obviously!” Herman’s hands fly up again, flapping wildly to accompany his speech. “I wouldn’t—wouldn’t be h—here if you weren’t—didn’t do what you—did, so—yeah, I really lo—I like you, a lot—um—too.” He’s looking at Loki with an admiration bordering on…something. “And I want t—to keep being—doing stuff like—like this and seeing—touching—I want to k—keep spending time with—with you. Also.”
Something in Loki’s chest unravels, bringing a cool relief and releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He knew he would feel like this, but it’s still a little ridiculous to him how much relationship milestones feel like video game achievements sometimes. Like he just leveled up his “intimacy with Herman” skill or something. Jesus, they’re both total nerds, aren’t they…
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that slip, dude. Maybe we work our way up to love, yeah?” Loki slides off Herman’s lap and begins working on the knots around his ankles. “You should actually fuck me first, at the very least.”
Herman yelps. “You—you want me to—I mean, I always—didn’t want to not—I’ve thought about—about you and—it—“
Loki finishes freeing his ankles and hoists Herman up from the chair, pulling him close for another kiss to stop the word spiral before it can get too far. Herman’s lips are warm, perpetually damp, and slightly swollen from the amount of biting he was doing earlier. Each kiss feels sweet and refreshing and safe and okay fine maybe he’s falling in love a little too. He pushes his tongue lightly between the other man’s lips and Herman moans softly into his mouth. Loki feels like he might have found heaven, inexplicably located in his shitty apartment while soft white noise still emanates from the old TV.
He pulls away, glancing up at his…not yet boyfriend. Not boy he’s seeing, anymore. Something new. Maybe…
“My hero,” Loki decides aloud. “Jesus, I cannot believe I got so goddamn lucky.” Herman makes that perfect flustered expression at the term of endearment and Loki laughs, pulling him toward the bathroom. “Come on, you dork, let’s get you cleaned up.”
They’d talk more, of course. They’d keep figuring things out, go further, start putting labels on things. For now, though, Loki was more than content to wait outside the bathroom door for his hero to finish showering, and then tackle him onto the pull-out couch so they could tangle their limbs together and gently drift off to sleep.