#i guess you could call this post-godklok

[atmilliways]

For the smut prompts... either 42 or 43 for hammertooth? (if you feel like it!)

I finished this a couple weeks ago but totally spaced on posting it, oops. I guess it counts towards Rare Pair Month, but I can't decide on which prompt it fits best. Whatever. Here it is!

Prompts: 42) “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.” ; 43) “Don’t you want to play with me?”

To Live For You

Magnus had always thought that falling in love was about being willing to die for someone. That’s what it had always been in movies and books, even when he got old enough for the kinds of entertainment that had sex in them too. So he’d always been sure that love wasn’t anything he was interested in, because he couldn’t imagine ever making that sacrifice for anyone.

~

“Maaaagnus. Ams you coming to beds?” Toki is sprawled across the sheets, easily taking up the entire mattress—a double, because he’d sworn up and down that a smaller bed is better for cuddling.

If it weren’t for the younger man’s complete and utter nakedness, Magnus would pretend to complain about there not being any room to join him. This sight never fails to leave him momentarily speechless.

~

Then he had almost died. Almost killed himself, in fact, but not for anyone.

Well. Maybe for himself. That instant when the veil had come off and he’d realized how massively, hugely, collossally he had fucked up had been really fucking harsh, and he hadn’t wanted to face it. Because teaming up with cannibals and murderers? Against actual, literal gods? After being so firm in his conviction that he’d had everything in hand and was totally in the right, he’d just figured there was no coming back.

~

Toki’s hands wander down his washboard abs, teasing. He wets his lips suggestively and then puts on an impressive pout. “Don’ts you wants to plays with me?”

His hands dip lower. Magnus, watching, swallows hard.

~

The thing was, he’d come back anyway—or been dragged back, really, and he’d deserved it for trying to duck out of the hard part.

Dying, it turned out, was easy. It was living that was hard.

~

“Yeah,” Magnus says, finding his voice again. It’s a touch hoarser than it was when he’d last left it. He has no idea what to do with his hands. “Yeah, I’m coming. You starting without me, sweetheart?”

Toki grins in that way he does, like Magnus has made his day just by noticing him. Of course I noticed you, Magnus thinks, have you seen you? It’s far more of a miracle that Toki wants his eyes (well, eye anyway) on him at all.

His gaze catches on the one scar on Toki’s front, the place where his knife had come out the other side. There’s a familiar clench in his gut at the sight—the one that reminds him that he doesn’t deserve this, and the only reason he gets it anyway is purely by the grace of this young god (retired).

It doesn’t send him into a downward spiral quite the way it used to, but the reminder is always there. A cautionary road marker: danger, do not swerve again.

~

And it had been very, very hard. Magnus didn’t like to think about the early days of his recovery. Between being dragged into some mess of apocalyptic prophecy and coming to terms with the horrible things he’d done, he’d been a menace to anyone who had come within snapping distance. With all the excuses stripped away, he’d stumbled through the painful process of really looking at himself and his choices.

~

“Well,” Toki says coyly, recapturing his full attention, “I thoughts if you were going to stays up longer over theres I’d just . . . gets off all by myself. . . .”

Magnus is watching his face now, but knows the exact moment Toki takes himself in hand from the way his breathing changes and eyelashes flutter. The show he’s putting on is having its intended effect; Magnus’ fingers twitch reflexively from muscle memory, and getting out of these jeans is an increasingly appealing idea.

He is not lucky. He has not earned this. But still, he has it, and he’s trying to be worthy.

~

It had taken years, and one world-wide close call with oblivion, barely averted, before Magnus dragged himself in front of Toki to offer amends. He hadn’t expected forgiveness, knowing that he didn’t deserve it—but, as his therapist had told him repeatedly until threatening finally to tattoo it on his arm just so it would finally stick, it wasn’t about deserving anything.

Saying it, apologizing, while looking into the eyes of someone he’d literally stabbed, kidnapped, and held in a basement, had been the final stab in the gut that had really, really driven it home. Everything he’d done laid out before him, laid bare in his own eyes while the ultimate figure of accountability watched him unpack it all, piece by fucking piece. Magnus had done it because he’d earned the pain of it, and afterwards Toki had touched him on the shoulder and said three words that had dragged him back to life.

I forgives you.

~

“You’re such a fucking flirt,” Magnus mutters, grinning. He’s already fumbling with his belt because, as far as he’s concerned, what Toki wants Toki gets. Once it’s undone he gets his pants, underwear, and boots off in two kicks. His shirt follows, a simple matter of shrugging out of it since the front is, as always, already undone.

Compared to Toki, Magnus is scrawny and wrinkled. He feels self-conscious about this sometimes, but Toki always tells him it ams just how bodies are, and he tries to believe him as best he can. The matching knife scar on his own chest (same knife, same hand) doesn’t bear thinking about.

He perches on the edge of the bed near Toki’s hip, birdlike, still unsure of where to put his hands. Such a shame that everywhere isn’t a practical option; Toki would like that.

Once, Toki had told him that’s what being a god had felt like: millions of hands all reaching out in unison to touch, pray, worship him, more intoxicating than all the drugs and alcohol in the world. He doesn’t talk about it often, worried that Magnus might get jealous or something, but when he does there’s this faraway expression on his face like he misses it. Maybe not enough to go back—if he even could, Magnus has no idea—but a good memory nonetheless.

“I'm here now, see?”

~

It wasn’t about what he deserved. Sometimes, what he’d done crept up on him and left him feeling so ashamed at the person he had used to be that he could have died all over again—but he didn’t.

Magnus had never thought he’d be worth the work it would take to piece himself back together until he felt like a person again. He still didn’t.

Toki always told him that he was worth it because he didn’t feel like he was but still tried anyway. For Toki.

~

“I sees you,” Toki sighs, and reaches for Magnus’ hands. He guides one to his half-hard cock, wrapping it around and guiding it to move with his, and the other to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. His breath and lips are hot against Magnus’ skin. “Wants to feels you, toos.”

“Is that so.” Magnus leans over him to steal a quick kiss, then shifts around so he isn’t reaching at a weird angle, and settles with one knee between the other man’s toned, tan legs.

He has, on other occasions, explored every inch of those legs with his hands and mouth. Other parts of him too. All of him. And he will likely do so again, many times, before the next time death comes for him. For now, Magnus follows the guidance of his lover’s hands. He watches as Toki draws his fingers into his mouth like a sucking candy, overwhelmed—first one, then a second, then a third—and sits up obediently when Toki urges him to.

“Wants you,” Toki moans again, biting his lip, urging the pace faster and giving Magnus his fingers back to prepare with.

So he does, eagerly, and before long he’s lining up, teasing against Toki’s weeping head until hands grip his hips tightly but firmly and pull him down like gravity.

Toki’s eyes are shining, starlike. “Loves you, Magnus,” he says breathlessly.

~

For Toki.

~

Magnus wonders if that really is starlight, some sort of cosmic leftover from whatever it was exactly that Dethklok went off to do as gods when they saved the world, or if it’s something else. He’d always assumed that love was about being willing to walk through fire, but maybe—and this is based both on himself and what he knows of Toki’s shitty childhood—it’s the willingness to crawl towards the light.

“I love you too.”

#metalocalypse fic #my fanfic #mtlrarepair2021 #hammertooth #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #i guess you could call this post-godklok #rated lime