Chapter Text
This was, as Cam would say, a “target-rich environment.”
Thor flexed his shoulders, feeling a few seams pop along the sides of his t-shirt. He’d barely been able to get it over his head without ripping it earlier. It was at least three sizes too small and, like all of the tees he wore to events like this, wouldn’t make it through the evening.
Cam and Dave were dressed in identical outfits. Brand-new, too-small white undershirts paired with beat-up jeans that sat low enough on their hips to show off the bright white waistbands of their underwear. Nubuck work boots, laces half-undone, steel-toed to make their feet look even larger, and lug-soled to give each of them an extra inch of height that none of them needed. Dave was the shortest of the group, and he was nearly six-three barefoot. They towered over the crowd that they surveyed, searching for interesting opportunities.
There were more than a few bulls at the convention. Not all of them opted for the same look as Thor and his friends – there were a couple of suits, a few lumberjack-looking bearded fellas, and the always-classic roided-out jocks – but they were just as easy to spot. Aggressively, almost over-the-top male, wild-eyed from a heady mix of excitement and stimulants, and ready to serve.
Normally, Thor would be a little wary of so many bulls at the same event. There were a lot of meatheads in his crowd, and the combination of whatever performance enhancers they were taking in the gym plus the aggro mindset that a lot of them adopted for roleplay made for a volatile environment. Not that Thor shied away from fighting, not at all, but he’d already earned a few bans and didn’t need any more. Luckily, there were a surprising amount of straight couples in attendance, more than enough to go around. The three of them had been approached at least a dozen times already, and they’d barely been there for thirty minutes.
The first-timers always made him chuckle. The husbands would sidle up to the group, trying to engage all of them in conversation. They’d all play along, even though it was obvious which one had already been singled out. Eventually, the guy would get to The Point, but watching them get there could be pretty amusing. Cam and Dave had been at this for at least a year longer than him and still loved toying with them, playing dumb and pretending they didn't understand what they were asking. As someone relatively new to the scene,Thor appreciated the more experienced players, who were completely matter-of-fact about what they were looking for. Like the man making a beeline for him right now.
“Hey, looking to get laid tonight?”
“Yessir,” said Thor, looking over the man’s shoulder to smile his most winning smile at his wife, who was seated about thirty feet away and raking hungry eyes over his body. She smiled back. Confident. Stylish. Bold. His kind of girl. “What’s she looking for?”
“It’ll just be her. I’ll watch. If you’re okay with it, I’ll record. She loves getting eaten out. Nothing but fingers and tongue in the back. I'll stop you if you go too far.”
The fuck you will, thought Thor, giving the person who'd actually be running the show another sunny grin. “And what are you looking for?”
“How big’s your cock?”
Thor thumbed open the fly of his jeans, reached into his underwear, and pulled his dick out. “This big enough for you?” The husband got quiet staring at it in Thor’s hand. Even limp, it was impressive, and it immediately started chubbing up at his touch. “If you want to see how big I get before we head up, we can go find a corner and I’ll play with it a little. She can come check it out too if she wants. I aim to please.”
“No, no that’s okay,” he mumbled, eyes locked on Thor’s dick. “That’s… really good. Give us a half hour to get set up. Room 506. You looking to get paid?”
About half the time, they assumed he wanted money. It was part of the fantasy for a lot of these guys, and he was fine playing along. Just a big, dumb, broke oaf with a dick the size of a Pringles can and ten percent body fat. He nodded.
“Two fifty sound okay?”
Even though he was far from needing the money, he couldn't help feeling a little insulted. The guy was wearing Ferragamos for chrissakes. In thirty minutes, she's going to forget you fucking exist, you cheap bastard.
“Sounds great. I just walk in?”
“Yeah.” He kept staring at Thor’s dick as he tucked it back into his jeans.
“Do I have a name?”
“No,” he said, then turned and hurried back to his wife. She raised her glass to Thor, and he dipped his chin to her. She slid off her seat at the bar and sashayed her way to the elevator, her husband at her heels. Great figure. Tall. Big, round ass. Thor cracked his knuckles and tugged his shirt down where it had ridden up over his abs. Nice, easy bang to start the night. He could probably get at least two more in if he stuck to the uncomplicated ones.
Dave and Cam had barely paid attention to the entire conversation. Dave already had a date lined up, and unlike Thor’s soon-to-be-friend, she had a laundry list of fantasies that she wanted explored. He was silently rehearsing the encounter before heading up. Cam was still scanning the crowd. Nothing had piqued his interest so far.
A sudden commotion caught Thor’s attention, and the attention of most of the crowd. There’d been a shriek, which wasn’t unusual at all at a kink event, but then the shrieker started yelling. Loud, and angry. Furious.
“What do you think that’s all about?” said Cam, looking amused.
“Don’t know. Let’s see what’s up, Dave, c’mon.”
Dave shooed them away. “You guys go on, I gotta get into character. I’m on in ten.”
Can rolled his eyes. “Don’t let them keep you wrapped up all night, alright? I'm feeling like a gangbang, and two guys ain't much of a gang. Be back down by eleven.”
He and Thor started picking their way across the crowded con floor toward the yelling. Thor still couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the guy definitely had a set of lungs on him.
The commotion was coming from the racks set up for the riggers. Since the hotel ballroom that served as the event’s main floor lacked any kind of rafters or hard points, the organizers had brought in scaffolding. It looked like an enormous, adult-size jungle gym, standing about fifteen feel high. Odd, because that would've been a spot Thor expected to be pretty quiet. Other than the subs’ recovery space and maybe the littles’ corner, the rigging area was usually the quietest spot at any con. Those folks were, on the whole, super chill and so focused on their human macrame that they barely even spoke. Once their subs were in the air, they’d just sit back and admire each others’ work while their subs spun lazily in blissful silence. He'd never seen a rope Dom yell before, or even really lose their temper. That sub must've fucked up.
As they muscled their way through the crowd, he could finally make out the shreiker’s words.
“...pathetic abdication of responsibility, how fucking dare you imply that this was anything but your fault, you fucking fraud?”
Whoa, what the hell had happened?
“Cut me the fuck down. Now, coward!” The crowd started to shift around the racks. A man was clawing his way out, and he was being met with jeers.
“Run! And don't fucking stop running! Run right up to your room, grab your shit, and get the fuck out of here! You're done here Gabriel, you incompetent, careless buffoon!”
Thor looked through the hole in the crowd that the man had left in his wake. A pale figure revolved slowly in the air, nude save for about thirty feet of black cord. He was hanging upside-down, face toward the floor. His arms were tied together behind his back from the elbows down, and his legs were encased in a braided sheath that looped back up to bind his ankles to his wrists, pulling what looked like a mile of pale skin and flat, corded muscle into an arced half-moon, shining in the hall's dim lighting. Long black hair obscured the man’s face, which was about four feet from the floor. The gym mat that should've been under him had been pulled to the side.
“Is anyone gonna get him down?” said Thor, more to himself than anyone else.
A bare-chested man in a kilt standing next to him replied, “Feel free. I'm not going anywhere near that frigging psycho.” The black-haired figure continued to rotate in the air and rattle off insults at the Dom who'd fled.
“Cam, c’mon, we can't just leave him there “ Cam stepped forward, massaging himself through his jeans with one hand.
“Oh, it's like that, huh?” said Thor. Out of the three of them, Cam was the only one to actively seek out men as well as women. Of course Thor had been with a few men. Screwing around with guys was kind of inevitable; about a quarter of his partners’ partners wanted to participate, even if it was just cleanup duty. Thor had zero issue with a cuckold sucking his wife off his dick, but Cam would happily bull for male couples, and he’d caught him wrecking a few twinks in bathroom stalls. “Little big for your taste, isn’t he?”
“You know who that is, right?”
Thor shook his head.
“That’s Loki.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“Nope, and stay the fuck out of his line of sight while I get him down. I've been wanting to stick my dick in exactly his kind of crazy for awhile. I don't want him getting distracted.”
“Fine, go rescue him. I’ve got things to do, places to be-”
“Wives to ruin,” laughed Cam, turning away from Loki to face him. “Don't wait up for me, I'm betting that’ll keep me plenty busy, I heard he-”
Thor was in motion before he fully realized what was happening. The man – Loki – slipped downward an inch, and his arms were suddenly wrenched backward. He screamed in pain, but then stopped, just as abruptly, as he found himself in Thor’s arms.
“Hey, you okay?” Thor had caught him while he was facing the floor, so he was addressing his bare backside.
“Put me down,” said the man, who laid still in Thor’s arms, eerily composed for someone who’d almost dropped four feet onto a marble floor face-first. Not a hint of fear. In fact, he still sounded pissed. Also, British? Why hadn't he noticed that before? It was cute, really cute.
Thor took a knee and lowered him to the ground, turning him onto his side so that he wouldn't be laying on all of the knotwork at his back. Before he laid his head down, he reached behind his back and yanked off his t-shirt, popping more seams. He tried to get it under the man's head as well as he could before easing him all the way down.
The man – Loki – lay panting on his side. Thor pushed a pile of black hair out of his face.
“Are you alright? You started to fall-”
Then Loki looked up at him and Thor forgot what he'd been about to say. He forgot about Cam and Dave, about the couple waiting upstairs, about the hotel and the crowd and anything other than the person in his arms. The most beautiful person he'd seen in his entire life.