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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
The next time he’s hanging out on the fire escape, Thor forgets to keep a fresh pack on him as his current one runs down to the last, and then it’s just him and his final cigarette burning down to the nub. The length of ash should’ve been flicked, but Thor is holding incredibly still. Eyeing the narrow strip of action beyond the parted door.
The stranger is probably a business man, and judging from it he’s paid for all the dressings. Literally. Uncle Loki is wearing a dress. Between the deep red fabric and uncle Loki’s dark hair, his skin is pale, and the stranger’s hands are running down the straps to reveal those shoulders – too broad to be a woman’s when squared, but slender enough for a man that the illusion holds. He curves into the other’s embrace and tips his head back while the man kisses his neck.