[The drawer, Thor had not considered, had thought to use other means of lubricant. Of course, given Loki's cleverness and more, the nature of this place, there would be such means ready and close within grasp. And for the moment, Thor is grateful that the bed is small, that he is able to lean over and reach the drawer's handle with barely an effort, take the bottle from it (amongst... other things he leaves. This place.), and still keep Loki unmoved in his lap.]
[It's the sort of stuff of Midgard, the artificial kind, and not what Thor prefers. But it will serve, and he leaves off eying it to press his face to Loki's neck again, kisses him there as he wets his fingers with the cool, strange-smelling stuff, and wastes no time in pressing one, then another inside.]
[The stuff may not be what Thor prefers, but how it slips and coats more readily than oil-- such results cannot be argued with. He hums against Loki's neck at the feel, and presses the uncapped bottle into the closer of Loki's hands.] Here.
no subject
[It's the sort of stuff of Midgard, the artificial kind, and not what Thor prefers. But it will serve, and he leaves off eying it to press his face to Loki's neck again, kisses him there as he wets his fingers with the cool, strange-smelling stuff, and wastes no time in pressing one, then another inside.]
[The stuff may not be what Thor prefers, but how it slips and coats more readily than oil-- such results cannot be argued with. He hums against Loki's neck at the feel, and presses the uncapped bottle into the closer of Loki's hands.] Here.