This chapter is mainly the aftermath of Thor's actions in the last. I might switch to Loki's point of view for the next chapter, but I'm still not sure. Any preferences or suggestions?
Thor watched his pet cry and struggled with the image. Loki had seemed to enjoy being mounted well enough; he'd even given Thor more of his divine milk. Perhaps he'd been too rough on the slender creature? He had wanted to break his milk slave…but not with this as the result. All he wanted was obedience from the beautiful Jotun, not his tears. It ached almost like he'd committed a sin by making something so lovely cry.
A large, warm hand caressed over Loki's cheek, a touch that earned a wince from the exhausted being beneath him. Crimson eyes pried open to glare tiredly at him, but his milk slave was clearly struggling to keep them from slipping closed once again. It was a glare, though, which meant that despite having perhaps taken the wrong course of action, Loki might still be unbroken.
Thor pressed his lips together; his brow knitting as he flicked his gaze all over the Juton as if the answer to what he should do next was mixed in with the intricate markings on blue skin. A verbal apology was out of the question. A master ought not apologize to his pet, no matter how retched he felt about his actions. He decided another form of amends would be best, so he shifted to slide his hands under the crying figure so he might carry him to the bed. Maybe after a good rest, free of the bit and shackles, Loki would be more cooperative. Maybe he would understand Thor's motives for taking him so forcefully.
He was once again taken by surprise by Loki's speed and ferocity before he could even being to lift him up. A cerulean leg coiled against the Jotun's torso for an instant before it lashed out and a heel was driven straight into Thor's nose. He reeled back, letting out a rather unmanly cry, while cupping his face that was now gushing blood. Loki's chest was still rising and falling with quivering breaths, but his body was limp once more. Before Thor could recover from the shock of the blow and retaliate, the red eyes were closed and the tears ceased when his feral pet fell into unconsciousness.
Thor growled in frustration and a good deal of pain. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom where he grabbed a cloth to press to his nose to staunch to bleeding. After a moment of grumbling with his head tilted back against the flow from his nose, which was thankfully not broken, he glanced over at the other cloth on the countertop. With a resigned sigh, he picked it up with his free hand and dipped it in the wash bowl. As much as he wanted to, he could not really blame Loki for the kick. Thor had been too rough on a creature that had already been trembling in fear of the new surroundings and his master.
The prince turned back to his room, looking horribly un-regal with a bloody rag covering half his face and his clothing rumpled and sweaty. He paused in the doorway, eyes on the slumbering Jotun in the middle of the floor.
Thor had only been out of the room for a minute and yet he'd already forgotten just how stunning his milk slave was. Or maybe it was just that now he could see every curve and angle and pleasure-covered inch of the Jotun. Fully appreciate him at a distance. He stepped forward and knelt at Loki's side. The other's muscles tensed under the wet rag, but the sleeping male did not wake to strike Thor again. The cloth was dragged carefully and gently over the marked skin, taking away the stickiness of sweat and the milk that had escaped Thor's hand before. He had to put the bloody rag down, the bleeding had slowed enough now anyway, so that he could lift one of Loki's legs to press the cloth to the Jotun's abused entrance. His pet let out a whimper, then a strangled sob at the contact. Thor's head whipped up from his task to watch the supple body shift in uneasy slumber. While Loki's unconsciousness kept both of them safe, Thor was sure to finish cleaning as quickly as possible.
Once Loki as clean as Thor could manage without taking the Jotun to the baths, he left both rags on the floor to pick the other's beautiful form up and carry him to the bed. A key was drawn from his trousers and slipped into the locks upon Loki's ankles, but Thor stopped before releasing the male's wrists as well. It may be too soon for such freedom; too risky. He chose to remove the shackles from the Jotun's ankles and the bit only. He then tucked his pet under the covers, wondering briefly if the warmth would make the small frost giant uncomfortable. But Loki did not stir again, so Thor left him alone.
It was all conflicting thoughts with Loki. Should Thor change into night clothes or should he attempt slumber in his armor in case the Jotun woke and attacked again? Should he climb into the bed as well or on the couch by the fireplace? Should he fetch the healers to look over his new pet? Send for food? Admittedly, he had not fully thought the situation through when he'd purchased the milk slave. He had desired him and obtained him. That there was more to do afterwards was only now sinking in and making his golden head spin.
For the moment, Thor chose to put off any further action. He undressed, changed into night clothes and slipped into bed with the Jotun sleeping peacefully on the other side. If he woke to Loki's hands around his neck, then so be it. He would deal with the situation when it came to it. For now he would sleep, with the image of his stunning new possession slumbering at his side to occupy his mind throughout the night.