[ Meanwhile, Tony makes himself comfortable, straddling Loki’s lap, muscular thighs wrapped around his lithe waist. Sometimes, he reminds himself of a koala, always clingy and touchy. Luckily, Loki doesn’t seem to mind. ]
It’s not like I haven’t done it before—or will do it again.
[ He shot Loki a shit-eating smirk. ]
[He takes a moment to find optimum comfort position, before those thin, pianists fingers, whisp atop his waist; only one leaving to tracing patterns aside his collarbones; daringly close to the reactor at points.]
I wouldn’t expect anything less.
[He’ll take a glance toward whatever Tony’s prepared, before he leans forward, merely to pressure his lips to the hollow of Tony’s neck, just chastely.]
Just try not to forget the hors d'oeurves.
” - I hate Christmas.”
“But movies."
"And candy. And presents. What’s wrong with you?”
“… the filmography around this time is ridiculously overplayed, the theme is far too repetitive, the presents are given with no true meaning aside petty greed and ‘candy’ can be consumed whatever time of year.”
