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The so-called mechanical bull rocked back and forth, unseating its latest rider in a matter of seconds. The man tumbled gracelessly to the foam mat beneath amidst the shouts and laughter of his friends.
Loki grinned as an amusing thought crossed his mind, and he turned to Verity. “Who do you suppose would last the longest?”
“What?” She turned away from making eyes at Sylvie to face him, taking a drink of beer to reset her expression.
“Up on that mechanical bull. Which one of us do you think would stay seated the longest? Sylvie?”
“No way. You’re not getting me onto that thing,” she scowled, but after a moment she relaxed and tilted her head thoughtfully. “Verity, you have the core strength.”
Verity hesitated ever so slightly, but enough for both gods to notice. “I wasn’t gonna be the one to say it, but I think I have a decent chance at holding on,” she said, glancing at Sylvie. She’d enjoy that, Loki thought. She’d love the opportunity to show off her strength in front of Sylvie.
“Or,” Sylvie continued, a wicked grin spreading onto her face as an idea took hold. “I think Mobius might surprise us. My money’s on him.”
“Pfft, Mobius?” Verity laughed. “I bet he wouldn’t last five seconds.”
“Ouch,” Mobius chuckled, his face flushing. “Give me a little credit, I was a hunter once.”
“When was the last time you went to training? Four hundred years ago?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“No? Prove it.” Verity goaded, grinning along with Sylvie now as Mobius’ face turned even redder.
“Alright.” Mobius stood up, tilting his head sharply towards the line where people stood to wait their turn on the mechanical bull. “C’mon, Loki.”
“What, me?”
“Yeah, you. You started this, now it’s a competition.” Mobius lifted his hat for a moment to run his fingers through his hair, then set it back down straight.
“But I—”
Really, he’d just been trying to get Verity and Sylvie to rise to the bait and take their flirtations elsewhere. It was painfully obvious watching those two.
“Have fun!” Sylvie gave him a little wave, scrunching up her nose in that smug way she did when she’d just won an argument.
“What do you suppose those two are up to?” Loki asked under his breath, catching up with Mobius halfway across the bar in a few long strides.
“I wonder,” Mobius scoffed, but the smile teasing at his lips reassured Loki that he wasn’t upset, just amused by their insistence.
“Next up!” The man at the front of the line called, and it occurred to Loki that the long line of people waiting their turn had mysteriously cleared out. He shot a glare back at Sylvie, but she was already thoroughly engrossed in conversation with Verity.
“If they don’t even watch after putting us up to this…” he grumbled.
“You put us up to this,” Mobius teased, placing a hand on Loki’s back to usher him through the gate. “You’re up.”
Loki forced himself not to melt into the touch, Mobius’ palm hot against his back all the spark he needed to give him the need to prove himself.
Swinging a long leg up onto the seat, he twined his fingers under the strap and braced himself.
“Ready?” the operator called, and at Loki’s nod, turned on the machine.
The mechanical beast started slow, allowing Loki to compensate for its movements by tightening his thighs, digging in his heels and rolling his torso in smooth undulations. The movement wasn’t too different from what he’d expected, having met the challenge of more than one unruly mount back in Asgard.
As the ride turned him, he grinned at the sight of Mobius watching him with rapt fascination, the color in his cheeks a very fetching shade of red.
He idly imagined what it would be like to ride him like that, hips rocking, bodies writhing together with fierce abandon.
Loki held on for what felt like quite a long time, enough to draw a bit of a crowd, cheering him on as the bull’s movement grew more extreme, jerking and twisting beneath him until he looked up and caught Mobius’ eye—enough of a distraction to pitch him headfirst onto the mat. The impromptu audience cheered, and a loud burst of laughter erupted from the back.
No doubt Sylvie and Verity were keeping score.
“Not bad, cowboy, not bad!” the ride attendant hollered, waiting long enough for Loki to pick himself up before opening the gate to let Mobius take his turn.
“Beat that, darling,” Loki teased, flicking the brim of Mobius’ hat with a fingertip as he passed.
Mobius gave him a look he’d seen before, daring him to underestimate his abilities. “Alright, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Keep your spurs on.”
With a surprising amount of grace for a man who spent most of his days poring over documents, Mobius hopped up onto the beast’s back and gripped the strap, lifting his free arm as though raising a lasso.
Loki huffed a laugh at the idea of Mobius, a cowboy—and then the bull started to move.
The bull tipped forward and Mobius’ thighs clamped down tight, keeping him seated as his hips swung down and he relaxed his belly, letting the momentum flow up through his body in a smooth roll. Fingers tight around the strap, Mobius let his body sway counter to the motion, remaining upright as his hips and belly made a fluid, sensual undulation. As the bull spun in Loki’s direction, Mobius plucked off his hat and raised it with a whoop of delight, flashing him a radiant grin.
Loki was transfixed.
Only an instant later, the bull gave a particularly hard thrash that sent Mobius tumbling, sprawling unharmed onto the mat to the cheers and shouts of the crowd.
His hands curled into fists, tightening against the way the sight of the sensuous rocking of Mobius’ body had twisted heat in his belly. Before he could think twice, he turned to the operator and murmured some directions that made the man laugh and nod in agreement.
Stepping back into the pen just too late to offer Mobius a hand up, Loki greeted him with a suspiciously innocent expression.
“Not bad, cowboy.”
“Hah, okay, that was more fun than I expected,” Mobius said, still laughing after his tumble. “Alright, what’s that look about?”
“Oh, just a thought.”
“Yeah, I know that look. You’ve got another wild idea. What’s next?” he asked, resting a hand on Loki’s back as he turned them toward the gate. “Actually—why don’t we let someone else take their turn first?”
“About that,” Loki said, turning his body so Mobius would circle back around. “I think you’re up next.”
“What?”
Mobius looked up to follow Loki’s gaze, and the man operating the controls gave him a big thumbs up.
“Well…” Mobius hesitated, then his grin overtook his face. “Okay, it was pretty fun. Sure, I’ll give it another go.”
He stepped up onto the soft platform, shuffling his feet to catch his balance. Loki, not to be outdone, stepped up after him, offering a hand up when they reached the mechanical bull.
Mobius raised an eyebrow at him, then hopped up onto it as easily as before. “I can get up by myself, you know. Did it just fine a minute ago.”
Loki had to catch himself—the sight of Mobius sitting up there, legs spread wide and back straight was more alluring than it had any right to be. Well, two could play at that game.
“Of course you can,” Loki said dismissively, then threw a leg up over the seat, nearly kicking Mobius in his attempt not to get caught on the foam “horns” on the bull’s head. He perched there in Mobius’ lap, legs thrown up over his thighs, and gave him a devilish smirk.
“Uh, Loki? Pretty sure this is just a one-person ride,” Mobius murmured.
A wolf whistle reached them from somewhere in the distance, but if it had come from Sylvie or Verity, he couldn’t tell.
This close, Loki could see the flush on Mobius’ skin and the darkening of his bright blue eyes even beneath his hat, the tremble of the rainbow fringe on his jacket giving away the quick breaths he was taking even more than the puff of air on Loki’s throat.
“Not necessarily,” Loki murmured right back, then gestured at the operator.
The bull moved much slower this time, a pace that was easy to match—and Loki appreciated not having to focus too hard on balance while doing what he was about to do. He felt Mobius’ thighs flex under his own, keeping him seated, and a shiver raced up Loki’s spine at the thought of those thighs tightening around him, holding him in place.
Before Mobius could react Loki was reaching up, plucking off Mobius’ hat and placing it on his own head with a smooth turn of his wrist. The crown was warm from Mobius’ wearing it, but any odd sensation was swept away by the way Mobius’ eyes widened, blue deepening as he took in the sight of Loki wearing his hat while he gyrated slowly in his lap. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and Loki grinned as he watched Mobius warm to the situation.
Loki trailed his fingertips over Mobius’ shoulders, gauging his interest—Mobius gave him an appraising glance and finally a wordless nod. With a soft smile Loki dragged his fingers down Mobius’ chest, allowing the momentum to press Mobius’ pecs into his palms before sliding his hands into his jacket to grip his waist.
This is gonna be fun.
Oh, gods.
Warm hands squeezed gently then skimmed up Mobius’ sides, catching his arms and throwing them up over Loki’s shoulders. They were chest to chest, a breathtakingly smug smirk on Loki’s face as he rolled his hips in sync with the bull’s movements. An appreciative murmur buzzed through the bar as more eyes fell on them. Loki, delighted, leaned in almost close enough for a kiss, their noses almost brushing before he placed an open hand on Mobius’ chest and urged him backward.
Mobius’ heart leapt up into his throat, thighs clenching on instinct as his balance shifted. “Shh, I’ve got you,” Loki whispered, and then oh, gods—he rose up out of his seat to hover just out of reach, fingertips brushing Mobius’ waist as he writhed above him, grinding his hips against nothing but air.
More wolf whistles pierced the air at the display, the bass of the music suddenly throbbing loud in time with the pulse in Mobius’ ears. He’d gotten lucky in holding on the first time, but here he had no hope of focusing on anything but the gorgeous being in his lap. The sight of Loki above him, riding him in all ways but for the fact that their hips weren’t actually touching, sent a blinding pang of lust up Mobius’ spine. If it weren’t for Loki’s thighs clamped tight around his own, he’d have fallen and broken his neck.
After ten seconds? Ten minutes? A year? Loki moved back, tugging a flushed and panting Mobius up after him by the collar. His head was spinning, all the blood in his brain having rushed down to the obvious tent at the front of his jeans.
Loki reached up and plucked the hat off his own head, placing it back on Mobius’ and tugging down on the back of the brim to get it snug, skimming his fingertips over the shell of Mobius’ ear and along his jaw as he pulled his hand back. Mobius shivered hard, still too dazed to speak.
Thinking was way too difficult, but he could tell they’d drawn a crowd from the cheers and whoops that exploded around them when Loki reached up, grabbing the rope overhead and heaving himself up and off the bull with a triumphant grin.
His head might’ve still been spinning, but Mobius didn’t miss the thick, equally insistent erection trapped at the front of Loki’s tight jeans.
He was hardly aware of how he managed to make it off the mechanical bull and out of the enclosure without tripping and falling on his face, but the instant they broke through through the crowd a bolt of inspiration struck him. Grasping Loki’s wrist tight, he hauled him off toward the back of the bar, just as the announcer was calling up another pair, much to the delight of the crowd.
“Christ, Loki,” Mobius managed to gasp before he was backed up against the door, pressed firmly against the hard flat surface, hat tipping backwards behind his head. Hot lips found his and Loki kissed him hard, wasting no time licking inside when Mobius gasped at the feeling of Loki’s hands tugging frantically at his belt.
Mobius’ blood burned for want of him. They’d been friends for what felt like ages now, and he’d always hoped they could be more. He guessed it wasn’t surprising that they’d come together like this eventually, not that he’d have put money on a supply closet in the back of a cowboy bar on pride night as their first hookup.
“You’re thinking too much,” Loki scolded, and Mobius didn’t have time to respond before Loki’s hand was wrapped around his cock, hot and firm and oh, god—he was gonna come way too fast at this rate.
He sprang into action, threading a hand into Loki’s sweat-damp curls, gripping tight and pulling him into a hungry kiss. Somehow he wrangled together enough coordination to fumble at Loki’s belt with his free hand, grateful for the assist when Loki finally caught on and moments later he was swallowing down Loki’s desperate groan and gripping both their cocks together, stroking lightly.
“Mmh,” Loki moaned, pulling back just far enough to breathe, each gasp puffing hot against the skin of Mobius’ throat. The friction was glorious, the blazing heat of Loki’s cock flush against his own sparked a blaze that raced through his blood. Mobius’ balls tightened at the sound of Loki’s tiny moans and grunts, but the smear of pre-spend slicking his fingertips wasn’t nearly enough to stroke the full length, and he jerked with discomfort when he tried anyway.
Loki let out a desperate whine, tongue pressing hot and wet against Mobius’ jaw. “Please,” he gasped. Eyes wild, Mobius glanced around for anything that—there, just within reach was an open box of individual lube and condom packets meant to refill the quarter vending machines he saw in the restroom. Perfect.
Shoving his hand inside, he grabbed a fistful, scattering half of them across the floor when Loki began sucking a bite into the delicate skin just below his jaw. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Hang on, Lokes, I’m almost—hahh—” With a monumental force of will, he closed his hand around one single lube packet and brought it to his mouth, wrapping his arm over Loki’s shoulders and tugging him even closer. Tearing it open with his teeth, he half-squeezed, half-spilled it into his hand.
He just about sobbed in relief when he curled his slick palm around both their cocks, nudging Loki’s fingers aside to lace their hands together. Like this the friction was perfect, and Loki sagged against him with a breathless cry, rutting up helplessly into their joined fists.
Fingers still tangled in Loki’s hair, Mobius tugged hard, pulling a strangled gasp out of Loki’s throat that was more pleasure than pain, and slotted their mouths together again. He could die like this, tongue slick against Loki’s, breathing the same air, the entire world narrowed to the tiny bubble between them in this darkened closet—but that would mean he’d never get to have Loki like this anywhere else, in all the places he’d tried so hard not to imagine.
Moaning against his lips and increasing the pressure of his fingers, Loki picked up the pace, desperate with need. Mobius couldn’t blame him, and bit down on Loki’s lip just to hear the noise he’d make. Loki’s moan crackled like sparks through his veins and he did it again, squeezing tighter and fucking up into their hands until the fireworks caught and burst behind his eyes—and they were both coming, pulsing hot and wet between them with barely-stifled groans.
They had to take a minute just to breathe before they could move again, clumsily wiping their hands on a roll of paper towels swiped from the shelf and laughing breathlessly, unable to stop giggling between stolen kisses.
A sharp knock on the door mere inches behind Mobius’ head stopped them both in their tracks like a splash of ice water.
“You two have ten seconds to get decent, we gotta go.” Verity’s voice was insistent but fond. “Or did you forget this is a public place?”
“You two aren’t exactly quiet.” Sylvie’s voice was definitely amused. “We did our best to cover for you, but this is still Oklahoma.”
“Shit,” Mobius cursed, looking at Loki with mild panic and fumbling the paper towel roll. “Yeah, okay, uh… give us a sec.”
“You’ve got two.” More voices could be heard in the background, growing closer with every passing moment.
Loki sent a shimmer of magic down his body, setting his clothes to rights. Smirking at Mobius’ helpless look, he cupped Mobius’ face in his palm, kissing him softly and sending another pulse of magic rippling across his skin, cleaning up any lingering stickiness or stains.
“Three, two, one. Out of time, you two. We’re coming in.”
“You better be decent.”
Mobius barely managed to squeeze out of the way when the door opened and Sylvie and Verity crowded in. Sylvie scrunched her nose in disgust at the blatant smell of sex permeating the air, and Mobius didn’t fail to notice the way Verity’s hand curled protectively around her hip. Good for them, he thought, punching in the code and opening a time door.
They stumbled through it just as someone started to bang on the closet door, a hysterical laugh bubbling up out of Mobius’ throat as it closed behind them.
He burst into laughter, leaning hard against Loki who just held him upright, shaking with his own mirth.
“Get a room, you two,” Verity teased.
“I might remind you that we had a room, thank you,” Loki sniffed.
“Your own room,” Sylvie said. “And congrats, by the way. We thought you two idiots would never figure it out.”
“Looks like I’d better say the same to you,” Mobius teased, noting the way that Sylvie’s eyes creased in a genuine smile whenever Verity spoke. She flushed very faintly and turned away, taking Verity’s hand in hers and leading her away.
Mobius chuckled. “Guess that just leaves us with two options, sweetheart.”
Loki looked at him intently, determinedly hiding a blush at the endearment. “And those would be…?”
“Your place or mine?”