Just a short, silly bit of slightly smutty fluff that I was inspired to write while listening to the radio and having drinks after work. Not really much in the way of plot going on here. Lyrics in italics are from the song ''December, 1963'' by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Enjoy! =)
It had been a long day at work, and Darcy needed to unwind a bit. She was still full of caffeine and adrenaline after finally arriving home, and so after she dumped her messenger bag unceremoniously on the floor and shed her semi-professional (as professional as she could manage anyway) attire and changed into a tank top and pajama pants, she fixed herself a nice vodka tonic and turned on the radio. Now, Darcy had a deep and abiding love for her iPod, however once in a while she found radio music rather calming, particularly the local oldies station. The music made her feel light and happy and ready to dance. Taking a long sip of her drink, Darcy tapped her foot as she detected the beginnings of a familiar song. The catchy beat was infectious, and she felt the earlier stress of the day fading away as she allowed her body to move to the music.
''Oh what a night,
Late December back in '63
What a very special time for me
As I remember, what a night''
Yeah, that was doing the trick now. Darcy felt a smile begin to crawl across her face, and her body grew warmer and softer, perhaps as a result of the vodka, or maybe just because this music made her feel just a little bit better about everything. There was something whimsical and slightly magical about the lyrics, and when Darcy was growing up and heard the song, she couldn't help but try to put faces to the couple it described. Back then, she had always imagined the guy as kind of a loner, maybe a nerd, someone very misunderstood. The girl was always very beautiful, with big early '60s hair, awesome sweaters and skirts, and glasses. Yeah, definitely glasses. They were both unusual people, she supposed and when they met there was a spark.
''No, I didn't even know her name
But I was never gonna be the same
What a lady, what a night''
Darcy put out her arms and spun in a circle, recalling the first time she'd met Loki. There had been a spark, a flash so intense that the world almost ended for a second, and sometimes it still felt that way when he touched her, like an earthquake, or a downed power line twitching and shooting off electricity. Her hair was flying everywhere and her glasses slid crookedly down her face. Darcy didn't care how silly she probably looked as she spun, pausing occasionally to take big sips of her drink until her glass was dry and her head was swimming with emotion and music and vodka. She didn't even realize that Loki had entered the room, she was so caught up in her tipsy nostalgia. He watched her whirling around, glass in hand, dancing to some older-sounding Midgardian song, and he was slightly mesmerized. She was such an oddly beautiful, unique creature, and he never got tired of looking at her, studying all the weird nuances; every part of her that was revealed slowly to him left him all the more breathless and desiring.
''Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me
She was everything I dreamed she'd be
Sweet surrender, what a night''
Darcy stopped her dance abruptly when she noticed him and came to a halt, stilling in front of him, a healthy glow flushing her features. She looked dizzy and delighted, but also slightly embarrassed. She set her now-empty glass on the table. ''I didn't know you were there,'' she said, smiling sheepishly, brushing back her hair and adjusting her glasses. ''You watching me?''
Loki crossed the room in what seemed like an instant and then had his mouth on hers, sucking on her bottom lip and dragging his long fingers through her hair. She moaned against his lips in response and wound her arms around his neck. He smoothed his hands down over her shoulders and then up under her shirt, skimming his fingers along the skin of her abdomen before cupping her breasts in a fluid motion. Darcy bit down on his bottom lip and moved closer, grinding against his now-obvious erection. Loki growled, pulling her roughly into his arms and lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged her lips away from his, turning her face into his neck and sucking on the skin there, nipping his throat lightly with her teeth.
Loki spun them around and lay Darcy down onto the couch. She fell back against the cushions, struggling to wriggle out of her tank top. Loki moved down her body, kissing the soft skin of her stomach while sliding her pajama bottoms and lace panties off in one singular motion. Finally free from her shirt, Darcy leaned back, her eyes closed as she allowed sensation to overtake her. Loki reached one hand up to cup her breast while stroking her between the legs with the other. She moaned and moved her hips, her soft wetness clenching around his fingers. He nearly came undone at the noises she made, but the God of Mischief was nothing if not both patient and persistent, and he slid his fingers out of her and repositioned himself so that he could fuck her with his mouth, flicking his tongue relentlessly against the most sensitive part of her.
Darcy gripped his hair in her hands, urging him on, arching her back as she felt her orgasm beginning to build. The song had long since ended, and another had begun. Darcy didn't recognize it but she still seemed to feel the rhythm all through both their bodies. She hooked her leg over his shoulder to give him better access, and he thrust his tongue into her as she climaxed, feeling washing over her in waves of shuddering intensity.
Darcy lay still for a moment once her legs had stopped trembling, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She looked down and Loki wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave her a grin that bordered on a devilish smirk.
''Thanks,'' Darcy whispered, her voice breathy with satisfaction.
''I love it when you dance,'' he replied.