Chapter 2
Loki’s adoration for Sylvie was omnipresent, but as he watched her athletic form swoop and dart in fierce pursuit of the shit-stirring variant, his jaw slackened in wonder – her magnificence in battle bordered on the overwhelming. Loki unconsciously palmed his own half-hard cock through his TVA-issued trousers before he suddenly remembered himself. He side-eyed his lab-coated colleague to see if he’d been caught in the act, but the fellow simply stood aloofly by, watching the fight with what would have seemed like dispassionate interest except for a little gleam in his eye.
Though he felt a pang of guilt that he’d put her in this situation, Loki was never truly worried about Sylvie’s safety in this conflict – she was more than capable of taking care of herself, and anyhow it didn’t seem like the buffoonish variant was out for blood. Loki gave a gratified smirk when she finally took the cocky bastard down.
That smirk faded when he thought he caught the slightest grind of Sylvie’s hips against the variant’s, and turned to dismay as she was unceremoniously chucked onto the bed. When the variant caged her in with his body, face-down on the mattress, Loki only noticed he’d taken a step towards them because of the strange hand that clapped down on his shoulder. Loki jerked his head to the side, ready for a fight. The lab-coated variant held him back firmly, but without threat of violence. That look of condescending rationality was starting to grate on Loki’s nerves, though.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” the Lab Coat posed.
Now there was a question. When Loki first conceived this brilliant idea, his initial exuberance was over the anticipated shock on Sylvie’s unflappable features as variants piled into the cave. After some rumination while Sylvie had been out on an excursion, Loki had jerked off to the mental image of his cock buried deep inside her as the variants looked on with envy. In this fantasy, perhaps she’d taken a prick or two into her mouth, grasped the occasional shaft, but the thought of Sylvie begging for his cum, for him to fill her up, found him spurting all over his own hand in reality.
Loki’s attention was drawn back to the bed as the Cocky Bastard rutted against Sylvie’s arse. The variant gnawed on the back of Sylvie’s neck – one of her intense erogenous zones, Loki knew from experience. She seemed to be struggling with instead of against the man atop her, grinding back into the variant. Loki’s cock pulsed as Sylvie grunted into the mattress.
The Lab Coat released his grip on Loki’s shoulder and stared at him expectantly.
Wasn’t this was he wanted?
“Yes.” Somehow Loki managed to sound sure of this reply.
“Well we’d best get stuck in, hmm?” the Lab Coat asked and gave him a shove in Sylvie’s direction. “Can’t have a gangbang without the gang, now can we?”
If Loki hadn’t been so preoccupied with Sylvie’s writhing form, he might have considered manually removing the smug look from the Lab Coat’s face. As it was, Loki used the momentum from the push to propel himself towards the bed.
Anticipation coiled in Loki’s belly as he closed the distance. Sylvie’s grunting had turned to groaning. The Cocky Bastard nipped along her jawline until he attacked her mouth. At their awkward angle, the kiss looked like it was more teeth than tongue. Envy puffed up Loki’s chest even as lust swelled his cock. He practically jogged the last few steps.
Loki halted abruptly at the edge of the bed, his crotch at face-level with Sylvie as he stared awkwardly down at the scene. Sylvie tore herself away from the aggressive bout of tonsil hockey to peer up at him, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and eyes glittering with predatory delight.
“My knight in shining armor has arrived,” she said with a hoarse chuckle.
A jolt of pleasure shot through Loki as Sylvie reached out and grasped his thigh, dragging her nails across the fabric.
“Finally, this party’s getting started,” said the Cocky Bastard.
Loki let out a gasp as the variant’s own hand shot out, palming Loki’s hard-on roughly over the seam of his trousers.
“Well, sir knight,” the Cocky Bastard snarked. The infuriating variant sent a confusion of feelings through Loki, perhaps the same that had raged through his Sylvie. He certainly made Loki want to lay hands on him, one way or another.
“Why don’t you slip out of that armor and into something...”
The Cocky Bastard paused for dramatic effect. Another groan escaped Sylvie’s reddened lips as the variant ground into her again.
“… more comfortable,” he finished.
The words landed a bullseye on their target, an explosion of erotic mental shrapnel that involved Loki’s cock sliding into all sorts of warm, tight places. Loki huffed and unconsciously leaned into two encouraging hands.
With disconcertion threatening to overtake his excitement, Loki stared down at a mirror image of his own face leering above Sylvie’s. He had specifically chosen variants as close to identical as could be safely recruited for the task – and boy had he fielded a lot of truly unsavory Lokis to find this set. But somehow Loki hadn’t taken into account the tastes of variants amenable to this sort of encounter, that it might have been inferred he was on the menu as well. Loki had enthusiastically lain with all sorts over the centuries, but this was positively bizarre – and he knew that was an extraordinary thought for a primeval entity accused on the regular of nihilistic narcissism, for an ancient god who’d fallen in love with another version of himself.
The Cocky Bastard gave him a come-hither smirk and raised an expectant eyebrow. Even as Loki wondered if his own bedroom eyes ever looked as alluring as the ones that leered up at him from above Sylvie, Loki was strangely uncomfortable with this level of egocentrism.
Finally Loki took a cleansing breath and tore himself just out of reach of the two hands. He cleared his throat.
“I’d... rather we just concentrated on her.”
Sylvie’s eyes flashed with the promise. “Suits me fine.”
The Cocky Bastard shrugged. “Your loss.” With a little growl he flipped Sylvie onto her back so her head hung over the edge of the mattress and her thighs cradled him. “Tails – I win.”