Chapter Text
Tom drummed his fingers on the surface of the laptop's keyboard, rubbing his mouth as he stared at the screen. The homepage for TouchWorks International (Your Dreams At Your Fingertips) was open in the browser and the new display was up. After two years of hard work, rendering, and tinkering with technology he didn't fully understand even now, they had finally launched the site.
Initially, he'd been stunned when they'd approached him, more so when they'd sent Sharesse - a tall, statuesque black woman in a severe business suit - over to discuss the finer details.
He'd sat where he was right now, serving her tea and goggling, his mouth hanging open like a beached fish. "You want me to what?"
She took a sip, eyeing him cooly over the rim of the cup. "Be a model, Mister Hiddleston. That's all it is. Surely you're aware of your popularity with both genders? Age ranges, from teenager to grandparents?"
"Well, yes, but..," he floundered. "This is ... too much. I mean, I'm sincerely, truly flattered, but ... It's a very intimate, erm... private thing you're asking me to do, and I don't think I could ... ah .... perform under those kinds of ..."
"All proceeds will go to the charity of your choice."
He stopped. "What?"
She smiled, knowing then she had him. "Of course. We want to save the world, just like you do. This software will generate millions of pounds, if not more, and all of your portion can go to anything you choose. Every time you get a hit, boom, there it goes, straight to good works around the globe."
She leaned in. "You'd be a super hero. For real."
He'd twitched. "But... all the people who buy it..."
"Customers. Helping to raise funds for important work." She looked him over, crossing her legs. "And by the look of you, I'd wager very satisfied customers. Maybe even repeat business. Good for us, and good for you, too. Imagine: being able to dump a hundred thousand pounds into UNICEF and satisfying the curiosity of your entire fan base simultaneously."
He'd sighed, running a hand through his hair. Honestly, how bad could it be? The way people fell over themselves at cattle calls, press releases, hell, the supermarket that one time... he might be able to get some peace out of the deal. If they could have him, really have him, perhaps some of the mania would die down and he could stop shielding himself so hard. And it really was for charity.
"Ok. Ok, I'll do it." He spread his hands on the table, hoping (not for the last time) that he was making the right decision. "So how's it done? The... touch thing?"
"That," she'd said, sliding papers over to him to sign, "is strictly confidential."
So here he sat in his kitchen, staring at the completed project. They'd sent him a package to let him know the site was live: a little box with one of the neural headsets they used to run the program, along with a note.
"Tom - please enjoy a freebie on us! This is only good for your first encounter, so choose wisely. All the best - S."
He looked over at the box sitting in its pile of torn up paper, then back at the menu screen, frowning. There were so many choices to pick from. Beautiful women, hunky men, a few very surprising Hollywood elite. He knew some of them personally, and quickly scrolled past. He spied his own name among them, next to his current headshot, and glanced at the counter.
6,453.
His eyes widened. At £350 a pop that was ... well...
"A fuckload," he muttered, sitting back in his chair. He remembered what they'd had him do in the studio and blushed mightily. Nearly seven thousand people experiencing that.
He click his name, and a drop down menu appeared. His eyebrows shot up to see not one or two, but five of his characters pop up, not including the slot that was just plain him. He wondered briefly how many of those people were purchasing whom. They had the stately Henry, brooding Adam, intriguing Dr. Laing, ill-fated Thomas Sharpe, and ....
"Loki," he murmured, tapping a nail against his teeth. Of course they would. Loki was always extremely popular. Curious, he clicked the link.
Immediately, a picture of the smirking demigod filled the screen, all green and gold armour, pale skin, raven hair, legs a mile apart in a stance that oozed power and control. Tom frowned back at him, squinting at the bio underneath.
"Enjoy an evening with Loki, the God of Mischief himself. Choose from three settings - gentle, intense, or dominant (health forms required) - and be whisked away to Asgard for a night you won't soon forget. Loki is fully equipped to make sure you get exactly what you need (provided you give your loyalty over to him). TouchWorks International reminds you to enjoy responsibly."
Tom groaned aloud. You'd think for the amount of money they'd thrown at this thing, they could afford a better writer. He made a mental note to never again say anything that could be used in a blurb.
He glanced over again towards the neural headset. Picked it up. Twirled it in his fingertips, eyeing the god mocking him from the screen. He hadn't filmed anything dressed as Loki, and definitely not anything that classified as "dominant", so what were they pulling from? He put the neural set on, adjusting it to fit. Drummed his fingers against the table, his leg bouncing. Loki stared at him, seeming to say 'yes, that's it, come on then'. Would he really use his freebie on this? Him? Himself? How arrogant was that?
"Fuck it," he muttered and hovered the mouse over the start button, clicking the link.
The neutral transmitter gave a high pitched whine and his vision blurred.
"Ah shit!" He cried out, his eyes screwing shut against the wave of weird tingling nausea that overcame him. It passed as soon as it began, and when he opened his eyes, he gasped.
He wasn't in his kitchen anymore. The familiar high top table and sunny south facing windows were gone, replaced instead by a dark but splendid room, the furniture plush and covered in soft looking furs, a bed hung with draperies in one corner. In the other, a fire was crackling in a huge black fireplace, and when he approached it, he could actually feel the heat radiating towards him, the fur rug beneath his bare toes.
"Amazing," he said aloud, marvelling.
"Hello, mortal," said a deep, velvety voice behind him.
He swung around, a yip of surprise escaping him.
Tom's mouth fell open. "Oh holy shit."
Stalking towards him from across the room was Loki, his armour gleaming in the firelight, eyes glittering with a quality in his stare Tom was sure he'd never used in his real life. The walk he recognised as the swagger he'd practised for the role. The rendering was absolutely perfect. Loki got close to him, almost chest to chest, and eyed him up and down, clenching his jaw.
"A man this time," Loki said, his eyes meeting Tom's as he grinned wolfishly. "I do like variety in my playthings."
Tom stared, completely disbelieving. He put out a hand experimentally, laying it on the simulation's chest. Sure enough, he could feel the leather, cool and smooth under his hand. He could even feel the rise and fall of Loki's chest when he breathed.
"Fuck," he said.
Loki lifted his hand, running fingertips Tom could feel up Tom's arm. "Oh yes. I intend to."
"Wait, wait, no," Tom stuttered, backing away from the god. "It's not like that, man. I just ...I'm not here to ... I wanted to see how this all worked."
Loki tilted his head, his smile fading. "Let me tell you how it works. You come to me," he took a measured step closer to where Tom had backed up to the wall. Another. "And then I give you what you need."
Loki pressed against Tom, hands coming up on either side to pin the actor in place. Tom stuttered, eyes wide at the proximity. He could feel him, fuck, he could smell him, like wintergreen and leather, woodsy, smoky, male. Loki eyed him fiercely, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips in anticipation.
"God damn, that is intense," Tom said, his clenched hands coming to rest on Loki's waist.
"You have chosen 'intense'," said a disembodied female voice somewhere near his ear.
"What? No, I..."
But then Loki's mouth covered his own in a searing kiss, and, struggle as he might, Tom found he couldn't get away. He put his hands up to push Loki off, but the God's fingers closed on his wrists, lifting them over his head and pinning them there.
Too strong, Tom thought, he's so fucking strong, jesus christ.
Loki pulled away from Tom's mouth and looked him straight in the eyes. When he spoke, Tom could feel his lips brush against his own. "What's wrong, human? Do you not wish to be consort to a god?"
Tom shook his head. "Mate, you've got the wrong idea, I think. See, I'm .... I'm you ... sort of ... and this whole thing is just ... it's not real... let me go, please."
"Not real," Loki said quietly, chuckling. "So I suppose the thing you have digging into my hip... that isn't real either, hm?"
Loki shoved his thigh between Tom's, parting his legs and lifting him off his feet for a moment.
"Wh -," Tom began, but was cut off when Loki's hips ground into him. He groaned audibly, cursing himself for the fact that Loki was right. It was no secret he liked being manhandled a bit, and Loki, well... knew him. Was him. Something. And it's not like the first time he'd seen himself dressed as Loki, he hadn't gotten a raging hard on seeing his body in those clothes. Strange as it might seem, he found himself wretchedly turned on at the prospect of getting to explore this particular simulation. Here, he was safe enough. Virtual reality wasn't reality, and things admitted here weren't things he had to face in the real world. Right?
Loki leaned in and pressed his mouth to Tom's again, much more gently but insistent, and this time, Tom relented. The god's tongue probed his mouth, a silvery taste of snow invading Tom's taste buds, the press of his body heavy and hot and there. He sucked at Loki's tongue, relishing the groan that vibrated into his mouth as Loki fisted his curls at the nape of his neck.
Loki released Tom's hands so he could stray beneath the man's shirt, the god's mouth sucking fiercely at the junction of his neck and shoulder while educated fingers stroked and plucked at him. Tom groaned and let his head fall to the side, his own hands clutching at Loki's shoulders, his hips beginning to move of their own accord.
"Oh, now, see," Loki chuckled into his neck, his tongue swiping at Tom's pulse, "that's what Iike to see. Obedience. Deference. Desire."
Loki nipped savagely at his ear, making Tom gasp. "We will have quite a lot of fun tonight, won't we?"
Reeling from the sensations, Tom nodded.
Still chuckling darkly, Loki backed off enough to peel Tom's shirt from him and toss it indifferently over his shoulder before sweeping them both onto a pile of furs near the hearth. Tom landed on his back with an "oof", and soon found himself pinned beneath Loki's administrations. Loki pushed his thighs up and apart, the God's hips undulating against his ass as Loki nipped, sucked, dug his fingers in, explored his mouth, his chest, his stomach.
"My god," Tom gasped when Loki bit down just below his belly button.
"For now," Loki growled, fingers deftly popping the button on Tom's jeans before tugging them off in one fell swoop.
Tom had a moment of self consciousness, lying there, naked and painfully erect while Loki's gaze raked over him. Tom gulped back the urge to tell him to stop, that this was the worst kind of self serving nonsense, but Loki's eyes caught his and they looked hungry. So hungry. Loki reached for him, the hands calloused just as his own were, the familiar rasp of his own hands gliding up his legs. The program was good, too good, seemed to know what he wanted because Loki's fingertips were running over his hips, his stomach, up between his thighs with featherlight touches before the god finally gripped his cock and began to stroke.
Tom's hands came up and he covered his face, moaning when Loki squeezed him, hips bucking up when Loki's other hand came up to tug on his balls.
I didn't film anything like this, he thought. Didn't. Wouldn't have. How do they know?
He felt fingers creep up his chest, the pace of the stroking never wavering as Loki pulled his hands away. The god's eyes glittered, heavy lidded with lust. "Do not hide from me, mortal. Show me your pleasure. Let me hear it. Do you like this?"
Loki squeezed.
Tom arched into his hand, gasping. "I ... yes, I ... I do..."
Loki grinned. "Good. Would you like more?"
Tom eyed him dubiously. "If I say yes... ah ... what happens?"
"Whatever you wish. Nothing you don't. I am here to make your fantasy come to life." Loki's hips pressed against Tom's ass again from the v of his spread legs. Tom could feel the ridge of Loki's erection pressed against him through the leather. Tom had a moment to wonder blurrily just how alike he and this simulation were.
"Whatever I want," Tom mused. "Can you ... can you ditch the leather?"
"Of course." Loki snapped his fingers and, in a shimmer of green and gold, his armour vanished.
"Whoa," Tom breathed, utterly stunned.
It was less like looking in a mirror and more like looking at someone who simply resembled him. Loki was long and lean, just like him, but more lightly muscled. His skin was pale and smooth, with none of the freckles or tanned complexion from being out in the sun on location filming for weeks at a time. This was his body, to be sure, but his body from, say, six years ago, and different in enough ways that Tom felt less strange about the encounter than he had moments ago. He took a glance down south.
Well.
Maybe not so different after all.
Loki leaned forward, crawling over Tom's body until their bodies were pressed fully together, his mouth meeting Tom's briefly again, his cock rubbing against Tom's with the undulations of his hips. Tom clutched at him, moaning into Loki's shoulder, biting into the soft flesh there.
"Let me show you how much pleasure I can give you," Loki growled into his ear, and Tom felt the slickness of precum pooling on the tip of his swollen, aching cock, slicking them both against his belly. "I cannot - "
He sucked at Tom's neck, his fingers delving into the panting man's hair. " - go any further - "
Loki nipped at the notch in Tom's throat, his tongue flicking into the impression. " -without your consent."
"Yes, god yes, ok? Yes," Tom rasped desperately, his fingers delving into Loki's inky tresses and tugging.
Loki growled low in his throat, his eyes meeting Tom's and never wavering as he began to nip and suck his way down Tom's chest once more. He licked at the muscles of Tom's stomach, his tongue leaving a trail of fire on Tom's hips. When he settled between Tom's thighs he gave a wicked grin before sucking Tom's heavy cock into his mouth.
Tom arched immediately, a strangled cry clawing its way out of his throat. Loki's mouth worked him expertly, his tongue moving in slow circles on the way down and flicking at the tip as he came back up. While he sucked, his hands were never still. They touched, caressed, massaged, tugged, leaving Tom in a sweating haze of pleasure.
"J-Jesus.....," Tom stuttered, his thighs beginning to quake. If Loki kept it up, he'd be coming in minutes.
Tom's head snapped up when he felt Loki's fingers creep into the cleft of his ass, somehow slick and ready. He thought to protest, to insist Loki stop, but then one long digit was pushing its way gently, insistently into his body and he let out a long, low moan instead. It was soon followed by another, the stretched feeling of fullness coupled with the wet sucking Loki was lavishing on his cock sending bright sparks of burgeoning orgasm through every synapse.
Tom started to rock on those slender digits, vaguely remembering a time or two in the shower when he'd done this to himself while stroking off, his hips coming up to fuck into Loki's throat. The god chuckled darkly around him, not seeming to mind at all when Tom grabbed a fistful of his hair and pushed him down to the root. Tom's toes dug into the furs, his free hand clutching hard at the edge of the hearth, knuckles white and face beginning to drip sweat.
But Loki wasn't ready for this to be over, it seemed, because the next moment a hand with a grip like iron wrenched Tom's fingers from his hair. Loki's head came up and Tom whined at the loss of contact, but still Loki's fingers worked inside of him, drawing deeply in and out. Loki reached behind Tom's head and pulled him close, sucking at Tom's lips before he spoke.
"Oh, pet," Loki said, his voice barely a whisper, "I am going to take you now, right here, on this rug. You will be stretched, filled with me, and in the end, you will beg me to breed you like the whore you are."
Tom was speechless. Never in his life had he ever said such a thing, or had such a thing said to him. But god help him, his guts gave a lurch, his skin prickled, and he found himself saying, "...... please."
Loki grinned his feral grin and hauled Tom up unto his thighs, withdrawing his fingers. He held his hand up to Tom's face. "Spit, pet. Lots of it."
Tom did as he was told, spitting everything he could muster into Loki's waiting palm. Loki added some of his own and smeared the mix of their fluids unto his jutting cock, lubing himself with a sigh. That done, he held an arm like a steel bar against Tom's back, rubbing the head of his cock against Tom's waiting entrance.
Tom tensed momentarily. This was new territory for him and Loki was .... well, call it as is, as well endowed as he was. He thought it would probably hurt, but when he felt Loki push in just a bit, the tiniest bit, he knew it wouldn't be so. Intense new sensations flooded him as Loki rocked his hips, gently pushing upward to breach Tom's ass an inch at a time. He clutched at Loki's back, pressing himself against Loki's chest, his hips undulating to catch Loki's rythym.
To his surprise, Loki gasped, his fingers coming up to cup Tom's ass and hold him. "Yes, pet, ride me. Use me for your pleasure."
So. The simulation was good enough to recognise its own pleasure. Fascinating in its own right, but, at this moment, not as important as the sounds Loki was making when Tom began to really roll his his body. Loki gripped him hard, pulling him in as Tom pushed down, rocking them both and hitting a spot inside Tom that nobody, not even he, had ever found. Tom swore loudly, his face and chest pink with the heat coursing through him, the warning tingle of fast approaching orgasm starting at his hairline and the base of his spine.
"L-Loki," he gasped, "I'm. ... I think I'm going to..."
"Not yet," Loki growled loudly, his teeth gnashing together. He pulled Tom's face down to kiss him, up ending the man so he was back on his back again. Loki grabbed (a very surprised) Tom's legs and put them up on his shoulders, driving into Tom with a force that was near punishing.
Folded nearly in half, the head of Loki's cock grinding on his prostate with every stroke, Tom saw stars, his toes fanning as he made incoherent sounds of pleading.
"Tell me you like this," Loki sneered at him from above, "Tell me you like being fucked like this."
Loki's hips gave a sharp snap for emphasis, and Tom nearly shouted, "YES! Fuck, yes, I like it, I love it, keep going, please, just a little more...."
"More, hey?" Loki laughed. "Oh, mortal, I shall give you all you can take."
Loki's hips began to move in a punishing rythym, slamming into Tom at a frantic pace. One hand snaked between them and gripped Tom's cock, stroking in time to the furious motion of his hips and Tom could take no more.
"FUCK, Loki I'm coming, ohhhh, fucking SHIT, I'm coming..."
"Do you want to feel me spill - ah - into you?"
"FUCK, YES, CHRIST..."
"....F-FUCK...."
Tom came with a shout in a huge spurt between them, coating his stomach and Loki's hand. At the same instant, Loki's eyes rolled back in his head and Tom felt the hot stickiness of the god's semen painting him from within. Tom moaned aloud as shudders of pleasure racked his body, his head falling back in bliss. Loki slowed to a stop, allowing Tom to ride the waves of pleasure before halting completely.
Out of breath, sweating, Loki slid out of Tom carefully, flopping next to him on the rug. They both lay there for a minute, panting. Loki sucked at his fingers, a little hum of pleasure echoing in Tom's ears. Eventually, Loki propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Tom, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth.
"Enjoy?" Loki trailed a hand up Tom's abdomen.
Barely coherent, Tom nodded, reaching up to stroke Lokus knuckles. "Very much."
"You preferences have been noted."
"What?" Tom asked, before the high pitched whine invaded his senses again, forcing him to screw his eyes shut against the wave of nausea.
When it finally, mercifully passed, Tom opened his eyes to find himself once more in his kitchen at home, but on the floor, his bare ass sticking to the cold tiles. Naked, sweating, covered in his own semen, he glanced dazedly around. His shirt was draped over the tap in the sink, his pants dangling from one if the knob on the cupboards.
"Holy fuck," he muttered, swiping a handover his mouth. "Holy. Fuck."
*********
"Look, I don't really care how much it costs, it's all going to charity anyway," Tom said into the phone, mildly annoyed. "Yes. A year membership. All access. Yes, including ... yes, him. Ok? Ok. Thank you so much. Bye."
He hung up his phone and stuffed it in his pocket, humming to himself as he selected groceries off the shelves to put in his basket. He was deliciously sore, but hungrier than he'd been in months. And, ok, yes, happier. He put a can of corn in his basket with the rest of the things and headed to the checkout.
In line, he turned to see a pretty young woman standing behind him. She glanced up and he saw her eyes light up with recognition. She stepped forward, her lips parting slightly.
Crap, here we go, he thought.
He smiled at her, hoping she was at least one of the sane ones. "Hello."
She opened her mouth to speak, but then her eyes went wide and she blushed to the tips of her ears, her jaw snapping shut.
"Um, I'm sorry, I uh, I have to go right away. You were very, uh.... It was nice to .... uh, nice to meet you," she stammered, hurriedly stuffing her items back in her basket before hightailing it away.
"Thanks for your donation!" He called after her, chuckling.