Loki’s sudden clasp startled Summer, but she nestled into his grip nonetheless. “I’m not going anywhere, then,” she murmured into his chest. “I won’t leave you alone. Don’t you leave me alone, okay?” The strength of his feelings was a little frightening, considering how little time they’d actually had together.
They’d only ever teased each other. How could he possibly — well, probably she was misinterpreting his feelings. Summer tipped her face up to Loki’s, hugging tight.
He knew this was dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous thing he had ever gotten swept up in, if not the most consuming. He had run before, plenty of times. But always alone. And now her soft embraces rushed through his blood like a hard drug, and he clawed wildly for more, higher, closer. He promised himself this woman would not become weakness. She would continue to set him aflame and strengthen his resolve. They would be unstoppable; never weak.
And yet, unmistakably, his legs trembled as he let his lips fall the rest of the way to hers, eyes pressing closed as he slid his arms tighter around her back.
It was impossible to say if the kiss was unexpected or not. She fell into it, clinging to him more tightly. There was heartbreak ahead, she /knew/ there was heartbreak ahead; this was Loki, god of liars, god of mischief. His entire aspect could change in the blink of an eye. But he wanted, he wanted like fire and the burning of stars, and she wanted too, and anything he asked of her right now she would say yes.
She sought, blindly, to get her hands under his shirt, needing to touch that cool pale skin. It didn’t matter that they were running away, lost in a forest and far from safety; it didn’t matter that not that long ago he’d been the enemy and then an unlikely ally and then gone.
Loki felt himself spin away under the delicate touch of her hands. Thoughts of fear, anger, isolation … all of it could wait. It all fell to the background as he sucked her lip between his teeth and pulled her closer still, leaning hungrily into their kiss.
He remembered the first time his lips had found hers; the fire was still there, after so much time apart. His mind was burning with emotions — hers and his own alike — like he hadn’t felt ever before. He was drawn to that fire like a moth. Helpless.
He crushed her so close her hands were trapped between them, fingertips scrabbling against his chest. She needed to climb inside his clothes, inside his very skin, so close nothing could ever part him from her again. The little voice warned, uselessly; she refused it.
“Please,” she hissed, in between kisses that made it impossible to breathe. “Please, I need you — ” She shoved up on her toes, strained upward, wrapped a leg around his body and tried to climb him like a tree. She burned, and he was ice; blazed, and he was darkness; two stars opposed and drawn into mutual orbit.