loki laufeyson (toberuled) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-07-08 20:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | eames, loki |
Who: Evan and Louis
What: Meeting up after Louis finally makes it back through the door for a while.
Where: Passages, just outside the Marvel door.
When: After Louis comes back through.
Warnings/Rating: Sexual content, somewhat graphic.
Evan had been back from Eames' frolickling in Australia for a day. He'd gone by the apartment, verified the designer he'd left while he gave Eames his time through the door hadn't painted everything pink and filled the place with tsotchkes, and then he'd waited for Louis to come home from wherever he was. When Louis didn't show up by nightfall, well, he started getting worried. He knew Louis was hiding, and hiding meant Louis wouldn't wander away for too long. He knew, too, that Louis had been alright the last time Eames had talked to him. Pissed, sure, but alright. But the more time passed, the more he realized that this wasn't looking good, man. He wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and climb into his new bed, but he just changed his clothes and set off for that fucking hotel instead.
Finding Louis' door wasn't hard; Evan loitered around the lobby, and he asked every pretty little girl that came in, and every cute little boy and, eventually, someone pointed him at the Marvel door. Loki was famous after the Las Vegas incidents, man, and that door might as well have had a gold star with his name over it.
Evan was dressed in track pants and a wifebeater, a hint of stubble at his jaw and a cigarette between his fingers. He leaned against the wall across from the door that he suspected Loki was causing trouble behind, and he raked a hand through his hair in a gesture that was all laziness as he tried to figure out why he hadn't asked for a key to this damn place yet. He'd made peace with Eames, and Evan was pretty sure Eames would help out if it came down to it, even if meant going into some comic book world to drag Loki out by his hair. Yeah, Evan decided, he needed a key. He sucked on his cigarette, cheeks going hollow as he did, and he wondered when life had gotten so complicated, man. Evan wasn't into complication; He never had been.
The door opened about fifteen minutes later, and Louis stepped gingerly out. He hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for him. Honestly, he hadn't expected anyone to even notice he'd been gone. He wasn't really talking to Sam, and he wasn't due to make good on seeing Anton for days. And Evan - Evan had been gone for some time now.
Louis stopped dead when he saw him. He felt guilty, though he wasn't precisely sure why, like he'd been caught out. But even as the wash of sick fear flooded him, he remembered - yes, he'd gone through, but he'd called Benji, and it had all gone better than he could have possibly hoped. He'd failed, of course, but in the end, they'd caught Loki. Louis managed to actually do something, to take a little control over his life again, and that had to count for something, whatever retribution came down on him later. As for Evan, though, Louis had no idea what to say. There was the subject of his long absence, of course, of Louis' conversations with Eames. And Arthur. He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to talk about it, but it was the first thing he thought of once he was done recovering from the jolt of seeing him.
Behind Louis, through the door, was a bright room, lined with a pattern of blue-white light. It was, significantly, seen through the perspective of the inside of a smaller, clear cell. Then the door, which had become all metal and clear glass, shut behind him, and warped back to black wood and a gold-painted number, mundane.
Louis glanced over Evan, and tried to pretend he had a clue what to do. Whatever his worries, above all, he felt a flutter of relief on seeing him. Perhaps it was silly, but he’d started to think that perhaps Evan was trying to send him a message by letting Eames stay through the door, that he was already tired of him, or that he no longer wanted anything to do with him. He held himself upright, but a bit carefully. His breaths weren't as shallow as they might have been if he hadn't forced Loki back through the door to heal, but they still weren't totally normal. "I feel as if I'm late for something, with you standing there," he said, attempting a small smile. He felt, as usual, a bit adrift, a bit like he was walking on eggshells, unsure where they stood with each other. He would have liked to just walk across the hall and kiss the smoke from his mouth, but was that too much? Would he even still want it?
Evan looked at the open door before he looked at the man who walked through it. His impossibly blue eyes took in the lights, the metal, the clear glass.Then, with lethargic movements that seemed like he was too lazy to make them crisp, Evan let the cigarette fall and he toed it beneath the heel of his designer boots, the ones that managed to work with the black track pants and the wifebeater somehow, in defiance of all the laws of fashion. Then, and only then, did he look back at Louis. He shoved his hands into his pockets with no particular sense of urgency, and his bare shoulders pressed against the crumbling wallpaper like it was smooth and comfortable.
"Not late for anything, man," Evan replied, sounding like he was just passing by, like he happened to be in the neighborhood. No big thing, man. "I like hanging out outside your door," he added, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. If he was pissed, it didn't show, but then things normally didn't show, not with Evan. He looked Louis over from head to toe, and he looked for bruises or worse, and then he dragged his gaze back to Louis' face with a kind of tangible effort. "Wanna tell me why you went through?" he asked, because he thought going through that door was something they'd agreed Louis wasn't going to do. Sure, Evan had been through his own door for a week, but that wasn't the same as Louis going back to the place where everyone wanted his not-better half dead.
Evan pushed away from the wall, all dark hair and stormy blue eyes, and he crossed the short distance across the hall. He wanted answers, and it showed on his face, despite the slow carelessness of his steps.
Louis watched Evan's expression and felt sure he was angry, and that blotted out his own anger like it hadn't even been there in the first place. He had failed, after all, and now he was going to pay for it. He didn't reach for him, or meet him across the hall between where they both stood. He let Evan approach, and didn't move. "He took me through," he said, not quite managing to meet his gaze. He swallowed, setting his jaw. "I didn't want to, but it happened. I was tired, and worried, and I let him..." He sighed, a huff of breath, his tongue at the back of his teeth. “I didn't let him. He took me, and I couldn't stop him." He'd been too weak. Just as everyone had made him feel he was, as everyone feared he was. They were right. All of them. "I contacted Thor's man on this side on my way to the door, as promised. He made it through, and he caught him before he could hurt anyone. He's bound him," he said, meeting Evan's eyes, finally, searching for a reaction, anger, disapproval, relief, anything. "Bound his magic, and put him in a cage. I went back through after the door spit him out, and the door only leads to that place, and the binding stays on. He can't hurt anyone anymore. He won't." He straightened his shoulders a little, and tried not to look like he was waiting for the hammer to fall. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I promised. I know I didn’t...that I failed. But I did everything I could to make sure it didn’t go any further.”
Evan watched the man across from him wilt like some kind of flower in sun that was too bright, and he rubbed his face and shook his head. "Nah, man, you can't do that. You can't blame yourself if you tried." There was still worry there, in that cool voice that seemed unfazed by everything and anything. Because if Louis tried and he couldn't keep Loki from dragging him through the door, what was keeping Loki from taking control over here? Nothing, that's what, and that freaked him out. Evan wasn't used to being freaked about shit, and he didn't like it. "Why didn't you contact me?" he asked, a question posed after Louis admitted he'd called Thor's man before crossing. He was afraid he knew what that answer was too, but if he held part of the blame here, well, he wanted to know. Letting Eames go through had been intentional (though the sheer amount of time hadn't been), but he'd done it to make fucking peace, and shit, man, he hadn't expected peace to have repercussions. And it's not like it had worked anyway; Eames and Arthur were hot mess. "Yeah, come here," he said when Louis continued apologizing, and he fisted a hand in the front of Louis' shirt and tugged him the short distance between them. Evan's chest was broad and strong, and he was healthier every time Louis saw him; this time was no different. He used his free hand to tip Louis' chin up, the grip unforgivingly insistent. "No more of this shit, man," he said, and whether the comment and the intensely blue gaze was for Louis or Loki was entirely up for interpretation.
Why hadn't he called Evan? "I thought you were still gone. I didn't think anyone could get to me before I went through. And I knew Thor could handle him without being badly hurt," Louis said. Eames was resourceful, but he was still a mortal man. His primary reasons had been practical, but there was more to it than that.. "And I didn't know if you wanted to speak to me," he said. "I spoke with Eames, but I wasn't sure. You were gone so long, and I didn't know..." He trailed off. He'd feared Arthur was a better distraction, that Evan had gone through in part to get away from him and the problems he represented, to escape needing to tell him whatever thing there was between them was over before it had really got started. "Regardless," he said, wiping the thoughts away. "I won't be a burden to you. I won't have you feeling obligated to come rescue me from my own weakness."
When Evan's hand grasped his shirt and pulled him forward, Louis stepped with the motion, closing the gap between them. His throat was a touch thick, and he met that gaze with his own, not as sure, but relieved, undeniably so. These days, he did so appreciate being wrong. He never felt sure of where he stood with Evan, but that was on him, on his own gnawing doubts. The firm hand on his chin did much to dissuade them, and the closeness of Evan's body. He liked seeing him healthier, and he did notice. It scared him, a little, that he would come entirely back to himself and then find someone better suited for him, but he was still standing here, wasn't he? Louis took a breath. He couldn't go on this way, fearing every moment that he'd be forgotten. He had to at least take solace in this, to try to believe he had it, really, and that it wasn't going to disappear. "No more," he said, agreeing, his gaze not pulling away this time. He slid an arm around Evan's waist. He wouldn't pretend not to feel possessive, this time, or like he had no right to be. “I did miss you,” he said, after a moment, with the smallest hint of a smile.
"Shut up, man," was Evan's eloquent response to Louis' concerns and his statement that he didn't know if Evan had wanted to speak to him. "I don't let people live with me that I don't want to talk to, and I'll tell you if you're being a burden. Deal? Until then, you don't go thinking you are, Louis," he said, as if it was all the most simple concept in the world. And, really, for Evan it was. If he didn't want Louis around, he'd say so. "And I don't do things because I'm obligated to. I do things because I want to." So he wouldn't be standing there if he didn't want to be there. He'd given up doing things because of obligation when the family business drove him to drink himself into jail, and that was just the way it was with him.
Evan chuckled at Louis' obviously relieved gaze. "Man, we're going out one of these nights, and I'm going to tell you, in detail, what makes you better than ever guy in the room. Maybe then you'll chill out a little for me, huh?" he asked, the hand on Louis' chin loosening enough to turn into a caress. "How bruised are you under all that?" he asked of Louis clothes, and he grinned a wicked, crooked grin when Louis said he'd missed him. "Yeah? How much?" he asked, that slow grin matched by a voice that had the same wicked intentions, despite the languid speech pattern.
It was true enough that Louis ought to expect Evan, of all people, would be blunt if he didn't want him any longer. "I believe you," he said. "I'm simply not very good at remembering it, I suppose." He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of that, but it hadn’t even occurred to him, that Evan was hardly the type to guiltily prolong something he didn’t want to avoid conflict. No, that was what Louis would do in his shoes.
Louis smiled, rueful. "You and I both know that wouldn't happen. Perhaps my insecurities are part of my charm." But it was a nice thought, and a kind thing to say, and it did bolster his confidence a touch. Evan certainly sounded like he believed it, god only knew why. His light touch on his chest ghosted over bruised skin beneath Louis’ shirt. It didn't hurt, but prickled from the light pressure, still sensitive. "Some," he admitted. "It isn't as bad as it was." He tipped his head, a little triumphant he'd gotten anything over the god who'd been making his life so miserable. "I sent him back through to be sure it would heal up. I don't think any of the ribs are broken, anymore, just cracked." He could live with that. Having Loki locked up was well worth the price.
That grin elicited a widening smile, and Louis looked away, as if it was nothing at all. "I don't know why you would be interested," he said. "You were gone, after all. What I did on my own, thinking of you...I don't know why it should be any of your concern."
"No you don't," Evan said of Louis believing him, that lazy grin on that face that was so entirely trustworthy, despite the perpetual smirk tipping up the corner of his mouth. As for Louis' insecurity being part of his charm, yeah, maybe, but that didn't mean Evan didn't like talking him up and making him blush. He decided the bar thing was definitely happening, and he chuckled at the thought of Louis in a place like that, going as red as the dancer's lips. So totally happening, man.
When the hand on Louis' chest didn't illicit a flinch, Evan chilled himself some, and it was a visible kind of relaxation. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been expecting the worst when Louis didn't return home, because someone somewhere probably wanted Loki's head on a stake pretty much twenty-four hours a day. But, nah, no flinching, and alright. He still didn't like the anymore in Louis' response, but it was better than the alternative and, after all, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He could keep Louis in Vegas now that he was back.
The widening smile made Evan think that maybe, for once, shit would work out. He reached out a hand for Louis' jaw, and he turned it until Louis was looking back at him. "Maybe I think it's my business, man," he said, crowding Louis with his larger frame until Louis was pressed back against the very door he'd come out of.
No, Louis didn't, really, and he didn't mind so much anymore if Evan knew it. He thought he saw a plan of some sort brewing behind those eyes, and he gave him a look. If he intended to follow through on that threat to compliment him in front of a club's worth of attractive men, he'd have to think of something appropriately torturous to make up for it.
Perhaps it was unkind, but somehow it made Louis feel a bit better to see that Evan had been as worried about him as he'd been about Evan. Evan was always so calm, so self-possessed, that it was hard to tell what he cared about, or how much. "You know, I thought you wouldn't even notice I'd gone," he said.
Louis liked Evan's broad hand on his jaw, and he arched a brow. "Well, what you think has no effect on the matter. It was private." He couldn't suppress the smile, though, so the coy act didn't totally work. He backed up as he was nudged By Evan's height and bulk, feeling the strange, smooth pull of the door at his back. He looked back at him, and that smile became practically triumphant. His head ticked to the side in Evan's grip. "You did miss me," he said. Smug. How often did he feel smug?
Oh, Evan intended to follow through, man, because Evan always followed through on threats like that. Louis didn't know it yet, but he'd figure it out soon enough. As for Evan noticing that Louis was gone? That earned Louis a very arched brow, and a very wry expression. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he said easily, as if the threat actually had any meaning behind it. Evan worried. Oh, he screwed relationships up left and right, but he worried. He might fuck someone into a counter when Louis wasn't around, but he worried.
"Private, huh? We'll have to see about that," Evan replied, and there was more than just a hint of a dark threat hiding behind the words. Well, it wasn't even hiding, really, the threat. "I did miss you," he agreed, even as his fingers slid down to find the button and fly of Louis' pants, which he slipped and tugged until they were loose around Louis' thin hips. He didn't give a shit that they were in a hallway, and he didn't care that the door at Louis' back might open at any minute. Nah, man, none of that shit even registered beyond being an added level of thrill. He shoved at Louis' boxers, enough to bare sharp hips and a hint of fine curls in the darkness of the hallway, and then he smirked as he looked back at Louis' face. "Show me."
They were in the hallway, very much in public, and Louis knew he should tell Evan to stop, still his hand and drag him somewhere more private. Someone could come through at any time, and what if someone he knew came out of his door? Benji, for instance? He would be thoroughly shamed.
And yet, there was the pull. He'd always had a very difficult time saying no when someone clearly wanted him, even when he should have. And this was Evan, and he was even less inclined to deny him anything. Louis would have been lying if he tried to pretend it was just appeasement, though. It was about the lull of being desired in such an immediate way that they couldn't even make it somewhere private. It was intoxicating. When Evan shoved his pants down over his hips, he leaned back a little heavier on the door with a soft sound. They could get caught, and it would be humiliating, but somehow that was very...attractive, at the moment. A risk, the sort of risk he didn't tend to take without a push.
Louis took a few shallow breaths, and then he reached for the open front of his pants, sliding long fingers over the sliver of bare skin below the hem of his shirt, and underneath the fabric that still clung below his hips. "Well," he said, with still a hint of a smile, unsure, "When you were gone so long, I started to think about you. About the things you did to me." His fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers, and there were spots of color high on his cheeks. "And being bent over your counter." He didn't even know how to say any of this, really, so he just kept talking. It was difficult to get a good grip with the cloth constricting his hands, and his fingers sliding over his cock without really holding was a bit maddening. They were going to get caught, probably. It ought to be worth it, shouldn't it? And, deep down, he did feel a little victory. Whoever had him before, he had Evan here with him now. That counted for something. "I wasn't sure you were coming back," he said. "But I still imagined you pressing me to the wall." He glanced up. "A bit...like you're doing now. And fucking me until I couldn’t stand." He flushed dark, even in the shadows.
Evan chuckled. "Is that right, man? And here I was worried about you gnashing your teeth with worry," he teased, but it was definitely just that, teasing, because his blue gaze moved down to follow the movement of Louis' hands, and there was no doubt when the expression on his face shifted from entertainment to hunger, to desire. A growl accompanied the change, a sound that rumbled in Evan's chest and tickled the back of his throat, and he reached down shoved the cotton out of the way, so that he could see Louis' hand on himself without the boxers in the way.
When Louis mentioned the fact that Evan was pressing him to the wall, Evan moved back. He moved back again, and again, until there was nothing but the cool air of the hallway between them, nothing impeding Evan's vision, or the vision of anyone who happened to walk down the hall. Evan leaned against the wall at his back, and the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk. "I'm not going to fuck you, man. I'm going to watch you," he said, darkened blue gaze going from Louis' cock, to his face, then back down again.
Evan lit a cigarette from a pack in his pocket, and the tip glowed red in the darkened hall as he shifted, repositioning his already hardening cock in his track pants.
Louis had been worried. He'd been almost sick with worry, and angry, and he'd hated himself some when he did think of Evan while he was alone, but he hadn't been able to help it. He watched Evan's expression change, and it was no wonder. It was almost addicting, seeing that look.
As Evan backed away Louis slowed a little, unsure if he'd stepped over some invisible line. Evan still looked hungry, though, so he didn't stop, even as Evan removed himself as a shield for Louis to hide behind. He flushed practically down to his toes. Anyone could come along and see him like this, pants and boxers hanging low and loose on his hips, completely exposed, stroking, being watched. It was debauched, wanton, dangerous, a thousand things that scared him, and he was hard despite it all. It was a little difficult to focus on what he was doing with so many other things to think about, so he looked at Evan instead, pretended they were alone and no one else could see. Even then he would have felt a bit vulnerable, taking solace only in the dimness of the hall. He ran his hand down over his cock, flicking his thumb over the tip with a brief, chopped breath and a spike of warmth, glancing up at Evan. Always checking for approval.
Evan responded with something that sounded like a growl, with a nod, and with a stronger, quicker tug on the cigarette between his lips. He watched, his eyes going almost black with how blown-wide they were with want, but he didn't make any move to touch himself in the quiet hall, and he didn't make any outward sign of being turned on. He just watched, free hand in his pocket and the near-constant glow of the cigarette illuminating his face in the dark. He didn't think either, because Evan wasn't into thinking, man, but his gaze was still sharp, attentive, interested despite slouched shoulders against crumpling wallpaper.
"Make yourself come, man," Evan suggested, lazy, as if he didn't have any vested interest in whether or not Louis complied, as if his cock wasn't straining against his pants.
Louis glanced briefly up the hall. Still no sign of anyone. God, what was he doing? He stroked faster, harder, a loop playing in his mind of how dangerous this could be, how embarrassing, how ashamed he should feel, and still Evan's gaze pushed him on. Those dark eyes, the casualness of his order. It probably wasn't healthy, how much Evan's obvious interest had an effect on him - that it could make him do something like this. It was likely a sign there was something wrong with him, more than a little. At the moment, he didn't much care.
Worry and thought faded as Louis focused fully on stroking, insistently, faster. He needed to come, before they both got caught, and he'd make Evan pay him back once he got him somewhere quiet. His eyes went up as he came at last, breathing heavy, chest twinging with each deep draw of breath. He forgot for a moment where he was and how easily he could be stumbled upon, and relaxed back against the door, easing his weight into the wood.
Evan watched for the signs of relaxation, that moment when Louis stopped thinking and stopped worrying, the moment where Louis stopped thinking about anything but the pleasure of his own hand on his cock. Evan growled, and Evan moaned, and he crossed the hallway and dragged Louis' chin up with his thumb and forefinger. He held Louis there, the grip on the other man's jaw tight and unforgiving, and he slanted his lips over Louis' and began a kiss that went from heated, to demanding, to owning in the span of seconds. He reached down, and he closed his fingers over Louis' own, and he stroked. Hard, long, unforgiving strokes, and Evan traced his mouth along the rough line of Louis' jaw. Wordless, all of it, man, because there didn't need to be words for reclaiming. And despite how slow the strokes of Evan's hand was on Louis' cock, this was definitely reclaiming.
Louis' breath caught in his throat when Evan came close again. His presence made him feel safe from prying eyes, and relieved, and better. Simply, better. He kissed back with fierce pressure, fear dropped behind him somewhere. Those long strokes, and Evan's mouth at his jaw, made his eyes shutter closed. He moaned a little. This was what he wanted, because as much as Evan was claiming him, he was claiming Evan right back. Whoever Evan was drawn to away from him, he was starting to think he might just be able to hold his own, to pull him back. His hips canted up into his hand even though he'd already come, those long, rough strokes sparking behind his eyes. His free hand rested on Evan's hip, fingers scrabbling for his belt loop to pull him closer, tighter.
Evan let Louis tug on his belt, and the movement, the draw closer made him stroke faster. He pushed Louis' hand away eventually, shoved it to the side, and he stroked Louis at his own pace, jerking on Louis' cock with a touch that was sure and exceedingly masculine. He growled at the side of Louis' throat, a demand in the rough sound, and perhaps some concern mingled in. Though, man, Evan didn't like concern, and he didn't like thinking about how close he'd come to reaching for the bottle when he realized Louis wasn't around. Nah, man, he didn't want to think about that now. He bit at Louis' jaw, and he tightened his grip, and he jerked.
Louis' breathing sped up, and after a few short minutes he felt himself growing hard again. He moaned, head still tipped back with Evan's teeth at his jaw, staring at the ceiling. That had to be a sign it had been too long since he'd been with anyone regularly, but it felt fantastic. He pressed his hips harder up into Evan's sure hand, twitching every now and again. "Don't...go away again," he panted, light eyes dropping down to Evan's. It was part plea, part order. In those eyes there was want, desperation, and insistence. He wasn't going to lose him to the door, or to anyone else. He simply wasn't. His curls were damp with sweat, and he felt positively obscene with Evan's hand on his cock in a place so public, pants hanging low and open. He would go this far for Evan, and he could maybe even imagine, if he really tried, what sort of wanton sight he made. He could be the reason for him to stay, and he was even starting to believe it.
Evan didn't care that Louis was a sticky mess from coming, and he didn't care that he was going to exhaust the man. Nah, he didn't care about any of those things. He chuckled against Louis' jaw at the request that he not go away again. "Yeah, alright. You don't walk through that door again without calling me," he replied, his own request more growled command than any kind of question. He waited for agreement, and then he closed his fist tighter on Louis' cock, stroked just so, faster, angled, wanting to drag a scream out of Louis' mouth this time, wanting the entire hall to shudder with that shit. Then he'd drag Louis home, shove him in a shower, and fuck him into the new bed. Yeah, man, that sounded like a plan.
Louis dropped his head, clinging onto Evan as though he might fall. The sensations were almost too intense, drawing him back uphill to the same height he'd crested a few minutes ago. It was disorienting - he didn't think he could come again this quickly, but warmth and slick heat built again before his come had even dried. Evan stroked him so quickly it almost hurt, and though he bit the inside of his mouth to keep from crying out, it didn't quite work. He came, again, and gasped, moaning through partially clenched teeth. His fingers clawed at Evan's sides, unthinking. "Fuck," found its way into the sharp, surprised cry, and he melted forward against Evan, head resting on his shoulder, lulled thoroughly by the loosening pleasure in every muscle. He caught his breath. "I'll call," he whispered into his neck, kissing the skin at his nape, soft and strangely chaste. "I'll call."
Evan groaned, a hiss forming at the back of his throat when the fingers clawed at his sides. The groan melted into a chuckle when Louis cursed, and he let go of Louis' cock, wiped his hand on his track pants, and then tucked Louis' cock back into his pants with a surprisingly gentle kiss to Louis' jaw. A second later, he tugged an arm over Louis' shoulder, a casual drag of arm over Louis' collarbones, and he pulled Louis toward the stairs. "Let's get you in bed, man," he offered, fondness in his voice. There was time to keep talking this shit to death after they both got some sleep away from this hotel.