Work Text:
Steve does, in fact, find the view from beneath Thor quite to his liking. The room around them is a huge expanse of glittering gold and sumptuous furnishings, luxuriously draped fabrics everywhere he looks. Blue velvets and heavy red brocades, cloaks draped over the back of a chair made of some shimmering, sifting fabric that Steve imagines is unique only to Asgard. He has to tilt his head back to see to the top of the vaulted ceiling, eyes tracing the intricately carved designs that twist up the angled walls until they culminate in a mural at the top. It’s Thor's battles, his victories – whether they were painted or magicked into place, he isn’t sure, but they’re lovely all the same. All this he sees before Thor guides him to the bed, pushes him flat on his back on the bed and climbs on top of him.
“Hello, lover.” Thor waves a hand and somehow, the room dims. Steve is bathed in moonlight from a cutout window in the ceiling above him, previously hidden from him until he laid back. None of the constellations he sees are familiar, but the swirling blue and purple light of the galaxy looks like pigment twirling sinuously off a paintbrush in a water rinse. Like a familiar work of art.
“Tell me, Steven,” Thor drawls as he lowers his head to nip at Steve's neck, hands sliding up Steve’s forearms, tracing veins, pausing at pulse points. His wrist is an easy hold for Thor’s big palm, pinning it gently to the bed with a throaty chuckle against his clavicle. “Does the view please you?”
Steve hums happily and runs a hand through Thor's messy hair. The braids he'd twisted into it earlier in the day were still there and Steve rubs his finger along the ridge of one of the braids holding the strands back from his face, smoothing flyaway strands back into place. Knowing he’ll mess them up later, he shivers. He doesn't answer Thor’s question right away, just smiles as a shooting star streaks across the small square of sky he can see and arches his neck for easy access to the press of Thor’s warm mouth.
Thor frowns against his skin and pulls back, hand coming under the back of Steve's head to force their gazes level. “Does it not?”
Steve's skin feels electric where Thor touches it. He's surprised his hair isn't crackling with static, with the way his entire body seems lit up and hot. “The view of the sky is nice. But the sight I'm looking at now...I’ll be honest, it's a little better.”
The familiar grin returns to Thor's handsome features. Eager to please, a little smug. Mouth turned up at the corners, stretched so wide into a smile that their next kiss is more teeth clacking together than anything.
“How cruel of my lover to make me think for an instant he wasn't enjoying himself. A cruel game, Steven.” It’s worded like a chastisement but spoken like a tease and it makes Steve’s heart flutter the way it does around Thor.
Steve sits up on his elbows, bringing them chest to chest. Thor’s body is more broad, skin tanner against Steve’s. Milk-pale, slowly flushing red with warmth and arousal as he answers. “I wasn't trying to be cruel, only teasing.”
Thor's laugh is a rumble, thunder in a storm. Deep and booming. “Mm, don't be a tease. I'll fear you aren't enjoying your time here.”
Steve nuzzles against Thor's jaw, letting his beard scratch the forever-smooth skin of his cheek. “I am, I promise,” he assures. “How could I not?”
How could I not, indeed. Steve has been in Asgard only a day and he thinks he's seen enough for three lifetimes. Thor has shown him what he says is only a small corner of his home, and yet Steve’s seen open air baths more richly decorated and luxurious than the ones in Ancient Rome, marketplaces selling fruit he’s never seen anywhere else, buildings that he can examine and see Thor’s hand in building them. He'd shown him the Bifrost, newly rebuilt and glowing like a solar flare, a rainbow of color that made his eyes burn and he’s shown him the secret beach where the water is so clear you can see straight to the bottom. He's met Sif, who reminds him so much of Peggy with her take charge attitude that he can’t help but like her. He’s seen statues of bronze and copper and metals he's sure Earth has never even heard of, run his hands over centuries, eons of history and culture and he feels like he hasn’t taken the time to properly appreciate it all.
Thor claims his mouth again, plunging his tongue between Steve's lips when they part in a gasp. Pulling back and licking at the corner of Steve's mouth, he murmurs lowly “Let us hope that you can come to enjoy the night more so than the day.”
He unfastens the cloak from Steve's shoulders as confidently as he’d undo his own. It falls away easy, whispers of silk on Steve's skin as it pools around his waist and bares him. Thor's hands skim up Steve's sides, fingertips tracing the cut of his hips and finding sensitive spots between the muscles and Steve tips his head back, light breaths of air panting out as Thor's mouth kisses a trail down to meet the upward path of his hands. His lips fasten around the sensitive skin of Steve's nipple, teeth sinking in and Steve arches up to meet him, legs spreading wider in the process to accommodate the breadth of Thor's body between them.
“Noises sweeter than the most exquisitely crafted instrument,” Thor compliments as his hands trail back down, rustling with the knotted fabric of the cloak tied at Steve's waist and tugging it aside, exposing the thick bulge of Steve's cock in the confines of his pants. “Yet I feel that I can play you easier still than one.”
Steve knows he's right. Thor can push buttons and pluck strings of nerves like it's nothing. He won’t forget, not ever, but the way that Thor sits back on his heels out of the way to press Steve’s legs together to tug the pants down like it’s nothing reminds him of how the simplest thing gets him going. Thor is bigger than him, stronger than him, and he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t get him going. Thor tosses the pants aside and flicks his gaze up to meet Steve’s, eyes a hot, electric blue with blown-black pupils.
“Thor,” is all Steve says, needy and light. His legs fall open at a mere glance from Thor and the god settles back between them eagerly. He doesn’t touch his dick like Steve wishes he would, just lets it bump against him as he moves over him and just that is enough to damn near rip a moan from Steve’s throat.
Thor is a warrior. Strong, calculating, battle-hardened with blood running hot. Steve has taken Thor inside after sparring matches, rutted with him on the floor mats of Tower’s training room, sweat slick bodies sliding all over the cool floor. Thor's eyes darker than ever, tension coiling in his powerful body, muscles wound up tight as they moved against Steve's own. When hands are rough and words few, when he fucks Steve with his long legs over his shoulders until he's screaming and coming, when they've barely finished the first round before Thor is flipping him over again to take him on his hands and knees. A victor claiming spoils.
This will be nothing like that, Steve can tell already. It already is nothing like that. This isn't the tense quickness born of need or desperation, fast and frenzied, and it isn't the way they couple in silence sometimes, when they pretend not to notice the tears running down Steve's cheeks. This is different and it feels good, reminding Steve yet again that this time away from home is all for him and gods, he’s really enjoying this ability to be selfish.
Thor, impatient, rolls onto his back suddenly and switches their positions easily. Looking up at him, his eyes are twinkling in the star’s shine and it sends a ripple of excitement down Steve’s spine and out.
“I should like to see how you ride. It's been quite some time.”
Steve's dick twitches at the thought. He thinks often about riding Thor like a stallion, about taking that thick cock so deep inside that he forgets what it's like to be without. He rolls his hips, feels the heavy line of it rub against him, hot and heavy into the cleft of his ass. Thor's hands come to his hips before they move down and around, grabbing greedy handfuls of his ass and bucking up against him.
“Easy, big guy,” Steve laughs, planting a hand on Thor's chest to steady himself as he rocks his hips. Slow, deliberate, needy; showing him what he wants and telling him that he intends to take it. They move like that for a few moments, bodies moving against one another, a promise of things to come. The slide of Thor's cock is slick now, precum beading at the head and smearing on Steve's skin. “Got something to make this a little easier?”
Thor gestures at the bedside table, where a small pot of oil is sitting. Waiting. A reminder. Steve moans, conscious of the fact that Thor had known they would be doing this, turned on by it as he dips two fingers into the pot and scoops out a generous amount. It's warm to the touch, fragrant and slippery, making an easy slide of his fingertips against one another.
“You wanna get me ready to take that, or do you want me to?”
Thor looks hungry. “Both,” he answers as he reaches for the pot himself, slicking up his fingers and holding Steve steady with his free hand.
It's erotic, Steve thinks as he slips a finger up inside himself to have it joined seconds later by one of Thor's thicker ones, to do it this way - to spread himself open while he’s straddling Thor's hips and his dick’s leaking onto Thor’s muscular stomach. Erotic to watch the way his eyes glaze over when he feels the squeeze, how tight Steve is even around two fingers. Virgin tight every time, Bucky tells him, thanks to that serum. From the way Thor's groan is low and throaty, Steve can tell he thinks it too.
“Ah, yeah, Thor-” Steve gasps, pushing back as another thick finger presses into him, spreading him open slick and wide. It feels good, close to incredible already just with their fingers sharing the space inside the tight heat of his body. He leans back enough to balance his weight, enough so he can free up his other hand to wrap around his cock and fuck forward into the tight squeeze of his own grip. Thor growls when he sees it and gods, does Steve love when he does that.
“Touch yourself for me, lover.” It's a pointless thing; Steve's hand has already perfected a greedy rhythm on his aching cock, but the deep rumbling order alleviates him of any thoughts of stopping. Thor's fingers are still working him open, two deep inside him beside Steve's one, the pad of another rubbing the stretched rim around them, over-sensitivity making him jump.
Soon Steve is tired of waiting. He wants it, wants to be spread open wider, to get it harder. Wants the thick, hot press of Thor to make him breathless.
“I'm good,” he assures him, pants it out and Thor gives him that devilish wink again. Steve can feel the tension in his hips begging to be let out, can feel the anticipation and arousal humming in the air, thrumming like a live wire.
Thor is something incredible to behold when he fucks, raw power and unashamed, naked desire. Something incredible to taste and feel when he drags Steve down to kiss him again, hungry and honest, when he pulls his fingers out and muffles Steve's disappointed whimper with a thrust of his tongue, slick and hot in Steve's mouth. It's barely a breath before he's replaced his fingers with something better, bigger, barely a heartbeat passing before the blunt head of his cock is pressed against Steve's wet hole, another hitching breath before it's spreading him open.
“Tight,” is the only thing he says as he fills him, as Steve lowers himself the rest of the way onto his cock. Steve is pretty sure he could come just from the look on Thor's face as he sinks into his body. The way his fingers dig into Steve's hips and the way he looks up at him, eyes entirely fucking black because he's so turned on, the way Steve gasps out a broken moan as he's filled and Thor matches it with a hitching groan of his own.
“Steven,” he rumbles. “There is, ah- nothing quite like you.”
He punctuates his compliments with sharp upward thrusts of his hips, cock impossibly full inside of him. Steve lets his head tip back, moaning as he works himself on it, meeting the thrust of the god’s hips with a roll of his own, changing the angle each time he slides back down until he gets Thor’s dick where he wants it, rubbing a rhythm against the spot inside that makes his vision prickle with white-hot stars. Thor moves lightning-quick, faster than he had any right to for being so damn big and catches the back of Steve's neck, forces Steve to look him in the eye. “Eyes on me, lover.”
As if Steve could look anywhere else. Nowhere else but the god spread out beneath him, the hot slick muscles and the sweaty blond hair fanned out on the pillow, the handsome face in half shadow, half illuminated starlight from the window in the ceiling.
Miraculously, he keeps his eyes open when he comes. Somehow, even though the desire to close them and lose himself in the sensation is too much, he manages. Barely focused, vision swimming as he watches the arrogant smile curl across Thor's mouth as Steve squeezes impossibly tight around him when the orgasm ripples through him, as he splatters hot strands of cum all over Thor's belly. Alert enough to see the way Thor's eyes damn near roll back in his head when he fills him with one last forceful thrust and floods him with warmth.
Boneless and pliant, Steve lets himself be moved off of Thor, whimpering at the emptiness when his partner’s cock slips out of him. When he’s no longer on Thor but beside him, the way cum is leaking out of his fucked-open hole isn't as troublesome. More of a familiar comfort than anything. He snuggles into the crook of Thor's arm gladly, breathing in the smell of their bodies, their sex.
“I think humans are incredible,” Thor says idly, staring up for a moment to catch a comet lighting a trail across the mottled-bruise sky. “I could search the nine realms and never find two that are alike.”
His hand is rubbing soothing circles on Steve's back, daring to rub low enough to make Steve shiver and moan when they get too close to where he's hot and raw.
“You're pretty unique yourself, Thor,” Steve says, suddenly cold and hoping Thor doesn't mind the way he takes the initiative to drag what looks like a very fine fur wrap up to cover them both.
“You flatter me,” Thor says with a gentle kiss to Steve's flushed temple, the picture of humility for just two seconds. “You may continue.”
--
Curled up in Thor's arms under a blanket of stars in a fantastical place the likes of which he'll never see anywhere else, he’s glad he came.