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Loki had always been highly in tune with the mystical arts, more so than any other Asgardian he had ever met. Perhaps the only other person who exceeded him was the All-Father, but he had no way of confirming for Odin always seemed to evade his questions. Loki knew he was powerful, and that was it.
Sitting on his window sill and looking out at the city sprawling below him, he was lost in his thoughts. He was calm, relaxed, his mind drifting and opening and freeing itself, allowing Loki to reach out into the universe and deep within himself to touch the spark of magic that lay dormant in his core. He felt it awaken then quickly spread through him, a cool rush through his veins that that reminded him of winter’s first snowfall and felt like the north wind on his face. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, and allowing the power wash over him, at once familiar and forbidden.
His magic was his solace, just as Thor had his brawls and his feasts. The sensation was not unlike the touch of a woman, but much better, fulfilling him mentally as well as physically. When the power swelled in him, he felt as though he could do anything, be anything; nothing was beyond him when he commanded his arcane gift.
He opened his eyes again and looked into his twin’s, sitting opposite him and staring right back. Loki smirked, and the other repeated the action; they were of one mind, the same yet separate.
Loki motioned for the copy to come to him, and his mirror self complied, sliding himself between the trickster’s legs, hands on his thighs, waiting. Loki reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against the other’s cheek, smiling as his twin leaned into the touch, eyes never leaving his. Finally, Loki leaned in and kissed him gently before his hand tangled into soft black hair and pulled the other closer, deepening the kiss.
Part of him knew this was wrong, the apex of narcissism, but… no one knew what Loki wanted best, except for Loki.
~*~
Loki shifted more comfortably on the windowsill as his twin kissed and nipped at his neck, leaving a trail of wetness on his skin. He slowly moved his lips from his jaw to his exposed collarbone, then back up again, making Loki shiver. The trickster had one hand entangled in the other’s hair, while the other hand gripped the edge of the stone sill, steadying them both. His head was resting against the wall behind him, allowing his copy better access to his neck. Meanwhile, the other’s hands were busy untying of Loki’s leather pants, fingers nimbly working the lace.
Loki let out a groan when his twin nibbled at his earlobe, then again when the other bit down on the junction between neck and shoulder. Pulling on the black hair, the trickster guided him back to his face so he could claim his lips, the kiss almost bruising in its intensity —it was the counterpart’s turn now to groan, the sound muffled against Loki’s mouth.
When they broke apart, both were breathless, “Shall we move to somewhere more comfortable?” Purred Loki.
His twin kissed him lightly before acceding; released from Loki’s hold, he moved off him. He waited for his master to lead him toward the bed, slowly walking backward until the back of his legs hit the side of the bed. Loki smirked as he pushed him down onto the mattress and climbed on top of him. Their positions switched, Loki returned the favor on his twin’s pale skin, taking pleasure in the way he shivered with eagerness.
He continued his administrations until Loki heard a soft whine from the other, a shiver running through him at the sound of his own voice —so needy and pathetic. The trickster moved away from his twin and sat back on his thighs, straddling him as he pulled his own dark green tunic over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him. The copy sat up and began running his hands over Loki’s bare chest, kissing and nipping here and there, alternating between gentleness and roughness.
Loki ran his fingers through the copy’s black hair and once again entangled one hand in it, gripping for control and stimulation. His twin merely bit down hard on the trickster’s shoulder, as if taunting his master; Loki hissed and tugged on the hair, aroused despite himself. Clone or not, Loki knows Loki better than anyone.
~*~
A few more items of clothing joined the first on the floor, and now Loki found himself naked and pinned to the bed by his hips as his shirtless clone sucked him to hardness. The twin guided his cock into his mouth with his tongue, then would suckle the tip before kissing and licking his way down and up again. A small part of Loki had the decency to blush when he remembered that those lewd lips were his own, too, but the trickster quickly erased the thought and focused on pleasure instead.
It did not take long for Loki to harden fully, but once he was, his clone shifted away from his erection and instead kissed and nipped his way to the trickster’s parted lips. They kissed long and deep, even as the clone continued to palm his cock and encouraged Loki to buck into his hand. Meanwhile, the trickster pulled at the clone’s black hair with one hand and dragged his nails over his back with the other, making sure to leave red marks on the pale white skin. The twin retaliated by biting down viciously on Loki’s bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.
They continued their aggressive back and forth until Loki felt himself beginning to edge towards completion. It was too early for that so the trickster grabbed his clone and, bucking and twisting, switched their positions so that he was on top. He licked his bloody lips and sneered at his other self, all the while admiring his handiwork; angry red scratches and a few darkening bruises decorated the milky white skin. His skin.
Loki looked his twin in the eyes and shivered when he looked back, for he was displaying the same desperate lust he knew he projected himself. At that moment Loki hated himself for it, and yet could not find it in him to stop.
Suddenly, his clone reached out and gently stroked his cheek, much in the same way Loki had done when he had summoned him earlier. Loki temporarily forgot himself and leaned into the reassuring touch —then snapped back to reality and slapped the hand away. His clone said nothing, but something played out behind his eyes; the trickster noticed, and angered.
“I do not want your pity.” Loki snarled.
The other’s hand dropped on the bed, waiting now only for his next command. Still angry, Loki wrapped his hands around the copy’s neck and squeezed slowly, one thumb under the chin, pushing it up. He watched as his twin’s eyes fluttered close and his breath hitched until he could breathe no more, lips parting to draw air that would not come.
The trickster did not release his twin until his body began to tremble beneath him. When Loki finally pulled his hands away, the other opened his mouth and greedily sucked in oxygen, making chocking and rasping noises as he did. Loki was satisfied that his clone was properly punished, but did not leave him time to recover fully as he was already attacking the bruised neck with lips and teeth.
The two fought and bucked and nipped and sucked and kissed and ground into each other. Finally, the trickster had enough of their games; he felt ready.
Loki had discovered over the years that he did not have a preference when it came to being dominant or submissive in terms of love-making, but rather it depended on his mood. Tonight, he felt generous; he would allow his clone to take him.
From their position, Loki was sprawled in the middle of the bed, sheets a mess all around him. His clone stood over him on hands and knees, lips a bloody mess, bruises and red marks everywhere, and still he looked ready for more. The trickster licked his own damaged lips, rolling his hips lewdly and beckoning his twin to him, inviting him to begin. The clone nodded and brought one hand between Loki’s legs, caressing a thigh on the way.
Loki could not help the little whimper that escaped him when the first digit went inside him, slow and probing and slicked with spit. He grabbed the clone’s shoulders when the second finger was inserted and his twin began scissoring and massing him on the inside. Already, Loki moved his hips, eager to be fucked; he had no patience for gentleness tonight.
“Just get on with it.” He growled.
His twin looked at him for a second, then removed his fingers; Loki already felt empty without them, but knew that something better would soon replace them. The trickster shivered when he felt the other’s cock press against his entrance, hurriedly lubricated with spit and their pre-cum. It would hurt, but only at first.
“Do it.” He hissed.
The clone pushed and managed to get his cock halfway in before Loki clenched down hard around him, body shuddering with pain and lust. He waited a moment for his master to relax again before slowly pushing in the rest of the way, stopping only once he was fully sheathed. Loki let out a low whine, eyes clenched closed and fingers digging into the copy’s shoulders as his back arched slightly, trying to accommodate the length buried in him.
“Move.” The trickster ordered breathlessly.
Move he did. The first few strokes were slow, shallow and tentative, but as Loki entangled one hand into his twin’s hair and brought him down for a kiss, forcing him down, their shift in position allowed for the clone to move more smoothly. His thrusts were deeper, faster and more precise. Loki was soon writhing beneath him, small chocked gasps and moans filling the air between them.
It did not take long for Loki to approach climax. By this point, his copy was thrusting frantically, his previous rhythm lost in the throes of lust. The trickster had wrapped one arm around his shoulders and his legs around his waist, maximizing skin contact and the heat between them.
Loki was close, he could feel it building up in his gut. He closed his eyes and counted down the seconds to his release.
Out of nowhere, his mind suddenly conjured up the image of Thor, as though he were the one pounding into him and not his own likeness, and Loki came harder than he can ever recall, his whole body shuddering from the force of it. Sparks flew behind his eyelids and his mind blanked.
It was a long while before he managed to calm his frantic heartbeats and erratic breathing, his head shockingly empty. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself alone, the orgasm having shattered his grasp on the magic required to summon and sustain his twin. He sat up, alone in the middle of a ruined bed that reeked of sex.
Too exhausted to move, let alone wash and dress himself in his night clothes, Loki grabbed a fistful of sheets and wrapped himself in them. The only problem with casting copies of himself was they were only shadows; in the end there was no one there to hold him through his after-glow, no one to keep him warm during the night. Loki shut his eyes and pretended like these things did not matter, that he had achieved satisfaction, but tonight his mind hounded him relentlessly. Even after he was kissed by sleep, his dreams that night were haunted by thoughts of Thor.
Loki loves Loki, but sometimes, even that is not enough…