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Loki loved Anthony touching him.
Anthony was a warm presence, both in body and spirit, and Loki liked any and all kinds of contact with him.
He liked how frequently Anthony touched him, which happened even more so after they had started courting, as if he had been holding back before. A lot of it was still casual, absent even, like he was reaching for him out of habit, without consciously realizing it. But his touches gained a further note of warmth, of affection, now that Anthony wasn't hiding his feelings for Loki anymore.
Sometimes when Loki was sitting and reading, Anthony would pass behind him and slide his hand over his shoulders, letting it linger for what felt like eons but still wasn't nearly enough. Or he would stop for a moment and drop a fond kiss on Loki's head, making Loki smile and turn a little to follow him with his eyes.
Anthony bestowed affectionate touches and embraces on him regardless of time and place, or whoever was there to witness it. He held Loki's hand when they sat next to each other, whether that be on the couch to watch a movie, or in briefings with SHIELD. He seemed to like taking Loki by surprise with a quick peck on his lips, cheek or neck, and it apparently made no difference whether that be in the privacy of their bedroom or in front of a crowd of reporters at a press conference. It rather pleased Loki, and settled the part of him that wanted to clothe Anthony in his colours and declare him Loki's before the entirety of the Nine.
They would spend cozy mornings together, Loki reading and Anthony leaning against him - sprawled over him almost - and using a tablet to work or amuse himself. Or Loki would lie with his head in his beloved's lap, one of Anthony's hands resting warmly on his chest.
Though Loki liked it most when Anthony's attention was solely on him. When his touches transformed from casual affection to conscious attentiveness, and became that much more. When they gained a certain firmness and focus, a note of wonder almost, and it seemed as if Anthony's whole being was rapt with pleasure to be touching Loki.
But regardless, Loki simply liked his touch - Anthony's skin on his. Even with Anthony asleep, the warmth of his body curled around him in slumber would make an answering warmth spread in Loki's chest, giving rise to a contentment that seemed to permeate his very soul.
Whenever Anthony touched him, it would both excite and soothe Loki, and he doubted he would ever have enough. Anthony could likely cling to him for days and Loki would still want him back the instant he moved away.
Sometimes, he would feel it on his skin for hours. Paradoxically, the part of his body that Anthony had patted, kissed, or rested against would feel both warmer and colder than the rest of his body. As if it remembered his beloved's touch, and couldn't help being bereft alongside Loki. As if it missed Anthony, just like Loki did.
It was hard to describe just how it made him feel, and Loki didn't think he would be able to, even if he spent months, years, centuries contemplating ways to express it. Anthony's touch was addictive; it was magnificent.
It was the best thing in all the Nine - second to Anthony himself, of course.
Though Loki was a god, he hadn't known true divinity until Anthony had touched him. Until he had felt his warmth, his affection, and known that he wanted it, wanted more. For as long as he could have it.
Loki was unsure if he had ever felt anything more pleasant. The thrill of battle, the rush of power in his veins, as well as the relief of his body's freedom were worthy competitors, certainly. But something ... there was something about Anthony touching him.
His warmth and affection seemed to envelop Loki's heart and body, and he could feel it. He could feel it, and on some days, he was reluctant to feel anything else on his skin.
If Loki could only weave a garment from Anthony's touch ... he would wear nothing else for the rest of his days.
Sometimes, Anthony would lie on top of him, his pleasant weight covering Loki; and making him feel as if he was being shielded from the hassles, the inconveniences of it all - from anything that wasn't them, right now.
Anthony would embrace him, and his arms would hold Loki, strong and certain. And though Loki wouldn't, not feeling the need to, he would know that he could allow himself to collapse, to let Anthony support him for a bit as he rested safely in his arms.
Anthony would kiss him, and his lips would land on Loki's skin like the tenderest touch, cover him like the softest of garments. His brow. His shoulder. His hands, his stomach, his everything. Anthony would brush his mouth over him, moving as if in silent praise and admiration, and Loki would glow with it, warm and pleased - touched.
And his hands ... Norns, Anthony's hands.
They were calloused, and strong. Though they were somewhat rough, that didn't mean Anthony's touches were.
His beloved was undoubtedly aware that Loki was more durable than mortals could ever hope to be, yet he always touched him with a care that made Loki's heart hurt. His hands were gentle, and attentive, and at times achingly tender. They held Loki, cradled him, moved over his skin near reverently, and it made his eyes sting with how treasured he felt.
Though certainly ... they weren't always careful, or gentle. And Loki loved when they weren't.
Anthony would grip and pull his hair just right while Loki pleasured him, with Anthony hot and delicious under his tongue.
His beloved would dig his fingers into Loki's back, panting and moaning aloud, and Loki would shiver as Anthony's nails raked over him, shooting heated stings of pleasure down his spine.
Anthony would hold him, soothing him with small movements of his hands, and grab onto him harder when he saw that Loki wanted it.
Anthony's hands would keep him aloft, anchor him, and though Loki constantly felt as if he would lose his mind with the heat of their joined bodies, with Anthony burning him and sending blazes of sensations through him, he would somehow manage to retain some semblance of control with Anthony's hands sure and steady on him.
His beloved's fingers would stroke Loki's hair, card through it gently, or press into his scalp in a way that made him tingle down to his toes. His palms would glide over Loki's skin, carefully, admiringly, and it would feel like worship. Anthony would worship his body, his skin - would worship Loki.
And Loki would feel how much Anthony enjoyed it, how much he liked it, liked him. His hands communicated his fondness with a disarming clarity, and only continued doing so when Anthony's feelings for him deepened.
Long before Anthony said the words, and a good while before his eyes started overflowing with it, his hands had spoken of his love for Loki.
They lingered more, became even gentler, and held onto him almost desperately. It was as if Anthony's body couldn't contain his feelings, and they would escape through his hands, covering Loki in the sweetest of sensations.
And Loki's chest would swell with warmth and answering love. Loki knew. Anthony loved him, and Loki would feel it in every touch of his.
Loki knew, but that didn't mean he was prepared at all for how it would be to hear it. Out loud.
One day, Anthony ... did just that: He said it. And Loki must've accidentally slipped into his astral body - for a moment it certainly felt as if he was having an out of body experience, before he was slammed back into his skin; heart hammering and insides twisting in joy.
Anthony loved him.
Loki stared at his beloved, and after what he hoped wasn't an embarrassingly long amount of time, finally managed to say it back.
And oh, how Anthony smiled at him. It was pure light, happiness in every line of his face, and it stole Loki's breath.
He could only stand still, more starstruck than he would've cared to admit, as Anthony cupped his cheeks and rose up to kiss him.
Loki's eyes fell closed on their own and he bit down on a rather mortifying noise that would've come out as a whimper more than anything. He could feel Anthony's relief, his joy, in the soft movements of his lips on his own.
And he felt Anthony's love for him in the way his hands cradled Loki's face; held him like he was a precious gift Anthony hadn't dared to hope for, and accepted with elation and astonished disbelief.
Loki's eyes stung at the flood of emotions in his chest, and he pressed down into the kiss, into Anthony's hands.
Into the almost achingly warm hands on his skin, telling him, 'I love you.'