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"Don't leave marks," Gray says, face flushed red at the notion alone as if Loke's tongue wasn't just down his throat.
He understands though. It's an easy guess with the way clothes seem to repel from Gray's skin, as odd as it sounds. The entire guild would have known immediately, and Loke's not sure if he wants that kind of attention himself either.
It's a shame as well, his fashion sense deserved to shine more than just a few spare moments.
Loke's marks would have sat so pretty on toned thighs and arched necks too.
"Okay, no marks it is." Loke replies with a drawl, an easy acceptance. His eyes flash to the other's lips, a gleam of a smile sparks in the twinkle of his eyes to match his grin.
He takes his time from where he is, head facing towards the crotch of his boxers as he kneels on the floor. He pulls his tongue out, lets it linger flat on the navel of his friend's stomach. Loke keeps his eyes on Gray's, never wavering, his grin widening as the other averts dark blue eyes away, when he trails his tongue up, up, up.
Loke makes a sound and shakes Gray, a not so silent request that he keeps his eyes locked on him, doesn’t move until he does.
Gray looks again.
Satisfied, Loke finally moves. His tongue slides across the abdomen to the line of his ribs where it meets the pecs of his chest until it reaches the nape of his neck, enjoying the salty taste that comes with it. Gray lets out a strangled moan before he can cover it with a hand.
Rising up, Loke levels with his eyes face to face when he's had his fill, hands encasing the armrests of the chair to surround the other. He lets his voice drop into that low baritone that the lion was more known for, the one that makes all the other ladies swoon.
"Don't worry, I'll more than make up for it."
Gray shivers, shivers, and Loke feels his heart rate rise. He's caught, oh so enraptured with a sight for sore eyes, and it gives him a rush. There's a prey beneath his territory, and oh how he loves to play.
It's almost too easy, the way the fog seems to matter less, feels less present than it always is, always will be. For this scenario his limbs feel lighter, the shine of Regulus seeming to light up inside him with glee. It almost feels like he's a spirit again.
In the seconds of his musings Gray seems to gather back some of his bearings when he finds his snark back, grabs a fistful of his shirt to drag him back closer to him.
"Just kiss me, you asshole."
And with that he crashes his lips against his, and Loke is all too happy to comply.
They don't go any further than that, but it's one of those things that Loke won't forget for the years (millennias) he has left.
Loke prefers to take his time, among other things. Even when death was at his door in the picture of his previous owner he always took his time. It's the very trait that landed him stuck in the human world in the first place.
Gray is the complete opposite. For an ice mage, he has a fiery temper and a short amount of patience, so it's no surprise that he rushes them into the guild's supply closet rather than the private comfort of his own dorm and puts his lips against his.
He doesn't bother to argue, welcomes it even. Loke lets himself smile into the kiss, winding his arms around his waist to move him closer, his chest against his. He's still wearing all of his clothes, so he supposes he still deserves credit for keeping some semblance of self control.
Without further ado he takes the lead, grazing his lips gently until it nibbles on the bottom of his lip, where Gray whines weakly in surprise.
"Is this your idea of training?"
Gray huffs out a breath, eyes narrowing open. There's a frown on his face to show his displeasure at Loke's pause.
"Shut up," he says, fingers finding its place at the curl of his neck to lean in again, eyes sliding shut once more.
Loke grins.
He's never been much of a talker especially at times like this, but Loke is. Although he lets him have this first, where he shoves his tongue into his mouth until they press together. It's sickeningly sloppy, and they're both sweaty under all these layers of suits and jackets inside a stuffy closet, but neither of them have the foresight nor sense to loosen up, their attention too focused, and the feel of his breath, his mouth, overweighs the notion of catching air.
He's hot, he's so fucking hot, and letting himself indulge in Gray is a blessing he's cursed to seek out for all eternity.
He's all too happy to keep this up for as long as he can before Gray, so achingly human, pulls away to catch for air. He can't help but groan in response.
Pulling away, he looks him up and down, takes in the sight of spit slick lips to etch into his mind and vows never to forget it.
"God, you're such a treat, I don't know how I was able to keep away for so long."
He digs his knees between his thighs, nudging ever so slightly upwards. His grin grows at the feel of the growing tent trapped within the ice mage's pants, legs shaking.
Hands trail from his waist up to cradle his face, when all the other does is exhale softly as he leans into his touch. He can't help it, he can't help himself when it comes to Gray. It's been so long since they've been like this. There's a manic edge to his tone when he speaks.
"An ice wizard such as yourself shouldn't be so stupidly hot."
He licks a stripe up Gray's neck, delighting at the moan that it brings, captures it into his veins forever to remain.
"W-Well, a damn lion spirit shouldn't be so—” Gray breathes, ”—accommodating to my stupid urges."
"As such, a spirit exists to serve. And right now, it seems I'm preoccupied with you." There’s a softness to his voice that he doesn’t bother to hide. He's even taken a break from Lucy's contract just to uphold a spoken promise with a non-celestial mage. There wasn't any contract on this mission to assist Gray in becoming an S-class mage, he was still a banned spirit then, but he can't help but glow giddy to keep it anyway, looked forward to it even.
The mage in front of him snickers at the idea, but doesn't say anything, so Loke continues.
"Lucy is too kind to take advantage of us spirits no matter how willing. She sees through my advances, and brushes it off." At this, Loke places his mouth upon his neck, when Gray speaks, "Are you saying I'm taking advantage of you?"
If anyone had to describe Loke's smile right now the word they would use would be sinful.
"No," his tone is easy, casual, "Simply the opposite."
He takes that moment to suck at the skin, quick but not too much, but it takes his friend by surprise anyway.
He breathes into his skin as he moves up to his ear ever so slowly, and each second is worth it for every tingle of shiver that it causes for Gray.
He lowers his voice into a whisper when his mouth lowers by his ear.
"Would it be a different story if you owned my key instead? Would I be on constantly throughout the day, every single day, or would you rather call me up at nights to warm your bed? Would you like to have more than one excuse such as the S Class Trials to seek me out?"
He doesn't look, but he's sure Gray has that hazy look about him right now, the one where dark blue eyes are all a blur, panting quietly as he can manage, but failing anyway, hands trembling where it grips onto the fabric of his shoulder.
“Why Gray, I’m honored and delighted to, but alas I am a loyal spirit to his master.”
Loke can't be blamed for wanting to tease him, so he lowers himself to the base of the other's reddened ear, teeth grazing up until it meets the earlobe to take a bite.
Gray gasps.
"N-No—"
"No marks, understood." A hand comes up to thumb at the shell of his ear, brushing placatingly.
"Don't worry, there will be none. I know how nosy the guild can be." He keeps his tone polite as it always is, hopes that it’s enough to hide away the exciting thrill that blooms into goosebumps in the skin beneath his suit. It doesn’t matter what Gray asks of, Loke will do it. He’ll hold him through his mused anxiousness if he is permitted, keep his mouth shut even if he wants to prattle if he has to, catch the stars to hold it beneath his palm before him if he wants it. Anything, Loke will have and done it.
He captures parted lips into his, drinks all that Gray can willingly give. Loke can feel his skin being burnt bright alive, and Gray follows so sweetly, kisses back with a fighting fervour to match with his want.
“Loke.”
Gray is a mess, his cheeks red as his ears even under the shadowed closet, adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to word out his probably jumbled thoughts.
“You know you’re more than that, right? Even Lucy thinks so, too. And whatever happens, you’ll always be Loke to me.”
Loke blinks. There’s that rapid-beating sensation he feels with all of his being seeking out. His partner looks determined, all kiss-stupid but still resolute when it seems he has more to say.
He lips part to speak, when their impending doom catches up on them.
There's a click of a handle, the sound of creaks stuttering through the hinges, before the swish of the wooden door opens up and casts a light into the supply closet with a shadow of none other than sweet Mira appearing before them.
Just like that, the spell is broken. They both jump apart and back away to the shelves behind them as if burnt, but his arms ache to hold onto his warmth. They’re already caught either way.
Bottles of disinfectant, cleaners, and brushes rain down from the shelves and onto them, and it’s more than enough to wake them up to the reality outside their temporary sphere.
Mira covers her hands over her widened eyes and mouth, scandalized, but Loke catches the glint in her eyes at a secret she unearths. Gray’s redder than humanly possible as he spits out stuttered excuses, and all Loke can do is his part at untangling themselves away from this mess and out the guild’s door like they should have in the first place.
It’s okay though, he thinks. There are plenty more opportunities like this. And maybe the next time would be when he’s made Gray an S-class mage as intended.
Time moves much slower in Earthland, a languid pace that Loke’s much used to and appreciates, which is why this time he’s happy to stay within it as much as he can, resolves to spend time with Gray, with Lucy, with all the other people in Fairy Tail as he’s allowed, this time with his lifeline no longer a threat.
The scales are small as much as it’s big, with Gray’s status as a mage, but the trials don't take away the lives of their own members. It’s a thought that expels his worries away.
He has so much time, and he intends to bask in it. It doesn’t matter if he can’t mark Gray as his, so long as he’s allowed to stay close.
That’s what he tells himself for the next 28 celestial days he isn't called afterwards.