“Such a shadow must be thrown by a powerful light,” she responded. Her fingers curled into his scalp. “Let’s go find it, shall we?” Stretching up on her tiptoes, reaching with her whole body up the height difference, she pulled his head down and brushed her lips over his. “Forget destruction,” she whispered into his mouth. “Try creation.”
Loki mentally counted the drinks he had taken and used that to excuse himself falling into her embrace, kissing her hesitantly, then more and more forcefully. His hands pressed against the small of her back, and he revelled in the pressure of her slight body against his. He felt as if perhaps he had been bewitched; an enchantress possibly? Powerful magic…? He didn’t honestly care at the moment. A faint sense of heat glowed from her, and he tasted it eagerly.
“So it’s you who needs his inhibitions lowered,” she laughed softly. “Shall I climb you like a tree, or will you come down to me?” Every other word was punctuated by the touch of her mouth on skin: throat, collarbone, pulsepoint, jawline.
He smiled into the kiss and turned her so she leaned against the wall. ”We could…possibly…” And then, a searing pain shot through his being and he stumbled backwards, gripping hands through his hair wildly.
He hissed in pain, and tried to block the inevitable; Thanos was pulling at his mind, trying to transport Loki into his presence. But he would not go without a fight.
“He’s…agh! He’s in my mind again!” He growled to Summer, as if she could do something.
Too late for ‘should have’s. Summer hurled herself forward, desperately grasping for skin contact. “Give me your hands!” she hissed, dragging and dragging at the emotions she’d been trying to shut out only the moment before. Every shield she’d ever constructed would have to pale in comparison to this one, so she fed the fire inside with everything she could reach — and flung it around both of them.
“You shall /not/ have him again,” she growled, eyes wide and unseeing.