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Marvel Cinematic, "Sheltered" (Thor/Sif) - NSFW
Trapped in a storm, huddled together in a bedroll for warmth, Sif worries she might be so cold she wouldn't be able to move if something happened. Thor offers to warm her up.
Contains Thor/Sif. Contains the first 75% or so of sex. And it is technically sex in public. So, get your scandalized pearls ready to clutch! Or don't. Fills the "stranded / survival scenario" square on my![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hc_bingo card. And, hey, let's say the "in public" square of my kink_bingo card!
.sheltered.
The wind roaring around them was bitingly cold, so much so that it was difficult to breathe. Thor stumbled out into the whitened world, hood drawn up tightly over his face, and sought out Loki's dark shape amidst the empty landscape. He couldn't even see the edge of the cliff -- everything just became gray mere steps away from him. But Loki was easy to make out, with his heavy cloak billowing about him, inky black breaking up the monotony of the blizzard that had come upon them so suddenly as they traveled through the mountains.
"Loki!" Thor called, his voice hoarser and rougher than he'd meant it to be. He saw the black shape straighten a little. "We need water!"
He couldn't be sure if Loki heard him; he knew that when Loki turned, slicing the air with one gloved hand and calling back, he could scarcely hear any of it, the words stolen by the wind.
But they needed the water, so he began to trudge closer through the growing drifts of snow. It wasn't until he got close enough to see Loki's face more clearly that he heard Loki saying, loud and certain, "Get back in the cave before you freeze! I know what we need!"
Loki was the least affected by the cold, of all of them. Thor was stubbornly holding out, but it was just that -- stubbornness. He was just as painfully numbed from the bitter air and choking winds; his body felt just as unresponsive. Despite Loki's pale face and reddened nose and ears, he seemed to be functioning almost as well as normal. Certainly he was more than capable of analyzing their situation and needs just as well, if not better, than any of the rest of them.
"Stay safe!" Thor shouted at him. "Do not push yourself if you need to come out of the cold!"
He could tell that Loki dismissed his words of caution, but he had to admit that his presence was not needed. He would go inside, and do what he could within the sheltered cave where the others were bedded down to wait out the storm.
The Warriors Three were all bundled together, their bedding gathered into one shivering pile. It might have been unfortunate -- Fandral's voice, in particular, rose unsteadily to complain about how he was forced to keep company with Volstagg the Porcine and Hogun the Dead Fish, and Volstagg was quick to snap back that his pork was doing a fair job keeping them all alive and warm -- but Thor was glad of it. If they were complaining, it meant they were surviving well enough indeed.
On the other hand, Sif was quiet, lying apart from them, curled huddled on her side, buried deep in her bedroll. She was not moving, and when Thor came to stand over her she didn't stir; sleeping, perhaps, but Thor worried over her unnatural pallor. She looked like the dead.
Thor crouched down next to her pallet, starting quickly to shed the outer layers of his gear. "Dying of cold weather in a cave is not the way I thought you would go out," he teased her, lowering his voice for a semblance of his privacy.
Without even opening her eyes, Sif murmured, "We will see who dies of cold weather when I hurl you out into the snow in your smallclothes."
Thor grinned. He moved with as much speed as he could muster, reluctant though he was to lose his layered coats. He dropped them over Sif's blanket and then slid under them, pressing up behind her so that his chest lined her back. They were both still dressed, but their clothes were thin enough to transmit body heat.
"I told you I wanted no special treatment," Sif murmured, now reluctantly lifting her head to frown at him.
"I believe Hogun and Volstagg are snuggling just as sweetly not twenty feet from us," Thor said, innocent.
That earned a snort of amusement from her. Thor let his arms wrap around her, and then she gasped, protesting, "Your hands are like ice!"
"I know. But your belly is nice and warm," he hummed, and then winced when she elbowed him in the ribs, not gently. But she shifted beneath the covers, her fingers curling around his hands as if to warm them with her smaller ones.
She was by no means warm, but she was better off than he was, and the gesture softened him a little. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Sif had been adamant about keeping their private life private: she sought to minimize any public displays of affection, not out of any sort of shame, but because she knew it might make their companions uncomfortable to have to watch them behave like lovers when they were attending business.
Though obviously Thor had hoped she would make an exception for this moment, he could not have said why she did. Because they could not be seen? Because their companions were preoccupied with other concerns? Because she acknowledged the necessity of shared body heat, right now, right here?
With her hand rubbing his chilled flesh, Thor chose to believe it was because she worried about him, and wanted him to be warm.
"Loki will bring the snow in," he reported. "Start a fire -- boil it down -- and when we drink it, we will all be properly warmed again."
Sif sighed, admitting, "I have all but forgotten what it feels like to be warm. Never in my life have I been so excited to hear I will have the chance to drink hot water."
Thor chuckled, and promised her, "The herbs Hogun found earlier will make for a decent tea, according to him. Drinking tea is a perfectly respectable thing to do when you feel cold."
"I am beyond cold," she said, hushed. "I fear if an enemy fell upon us in the state, I would be of no use to you. I can barely move my hands."
"They seem like a warm blessing to me," Thor said easily, but her quiet words concerned him, and he drew her closer against him, enveloping her all the more in his arms.
None of them would even consider the possibility of falling to a mere winter storm, however fierce. Even trapped in a dark cave in the freezing cold, they all knew that they would find a way to get by if there came to be any real danger. But it was still unnerving to have the reminders so vivid: Sif's shivering body, her grim prompt that other dangers might yet lurk, the howling of the wind outside as it grew especially loud.
He added, "Besides, if an enemy attacked, your body would heat up from the excitement. You would forget all about the cold."
Sif made a little sound in her throat, half agreement and half appreciation. "And you would not need it. You are practically a furnace as it is."
Thor's lips curved up, and he rubbed his hand slowly over her belly; now that it was warmed again, he wanted to give back more of that warmth to her. "Perhaps it runs in the family," he said. "With Loki running about in the blizzard, his blood must pump hotter than mine."
"He must. It even sounds cold out there." Sif shifted, her head curving against the small travel pillow, and she mused, "Though he likely prefers it out there. When he comes back in, he will be expected to play nursemaid to those fools..."
They both fell silent for a moment to appreciate the truth of that statement; without their murmured conversation, they had nothing to distract them from the bickering coming from the tangled bedroll not far away.
"If that hand remains on the inside of my knee, I will part it from its owner," Hogun pronounced impassively, and he must have accompanied these words with a look, because Fandral's voice immediately lifted in a ruffled cry of, "Why does everyone always assume it's me?" that overwhelmed Volstagg's sheepish, "Sorry. Nice and warm there." And then Hogun was saying, "I assume because you give me every reason to," and so Fandral complained, "Excuse me, but I don't believe I've given you any indication I'd like to mess around above your knees, as I would very much not like that. You're not my type, for one, and I quite enjoy living, for another."
Sif was smiling, he could hear it in her voice when she finally said, "You see?"
"And who could blame him," Thor agreed.
"Not I."
Thor hummed, leaning forward, and he said quietly, "Between the two of us, I think I have been quite fortunate with this arrangement..." His lips brushed behind her ear, nuzzling to the corner of her jaw.
She exhaled a breath, and whispered, "You take too many liberties."
"If it were such a grievous overstepping of my bounds, you would already have stopped me by now," he said implacably, and then edged in to draw the lobe of her ear into his mouth, tugging on it lingeringly.
This time the shudder that twisted under Sif's skin was very different than her miserable cold of earlier. "You cannot be serious. Quit your fooling around."
"Why can I not be serious?" He met her gaze earnestly when she turned to stare at him over her shoulder. "We are stranded here in this cave, freezing, unable to do much else until the storm passes. We already discussed how getting our blood pumping would be... just the thing, really, to keep us warm. And they will not see, just as they do not see now."
Sif held her stare, evaluating his sincerity and weighing the pros and cons in her mind. A good sign, Thor thought, because it was well within the realm of possibility that she found the suggestion so insulting that she tossed him out of the bedroll and broke every bone in his hands vengefully.
But he had thought, more than once, that perhaps if she were reluctant to be seen being intimate with him, that she might... take some pleasure in hiding that intimacy in plain sight. With the bedroll heavy around them, facing away from their companions and their companions facing away from them, Thor's broad back shielding her from sight, and the distractions of cold and discomfort and their own relentless quarreling keeping the Warriors Three busy, they were as likely to go unseen as they ever would be.
He could have used more words: encouraging, tempting, wheedling words. But he reined himself in, waiting impatiently for her to come to her own conclusion. He did not want to be said to have influenced her into it later, even though he was hardly capable of influencing her to do something she truly did not wish to do, and certainly not without a fierce fight.
And then she said, under her breath, "It will be too obvious if we rut together."
Thor leaned in, brushing her neck with his lips, and murmured, "Then I will warm you, and suffer through my wanting without fulfillment, to keep still and maintain the illusion. Perhaps later, you can... return the favor."
Sif let out a breath through her teeth, and then warned, "You will not play that game."
"What game?"
"The force your partner to make noise game." Her eyes narrowed.
Thor complained, "But that is our favorite game." He stroked his hand over her belly again, and when she opened her lips to hiss a response, he murmured quietly, "I will be good."
"That's right, you will," she muttered. "And I will thrash you for your impertinence the next time we meet on a sparring field."
If that promise was meant to slake his ardor, it was unsuccessful. Thor hummed his interest, and his fingers brushed lower, finding the waistband of her trousers. He nuzzled the back of her neck, sliding his lips to the side.
"No -- marks," she reminded him, her breath hitching a little as his now-warm fingers found her bare skin.
A fortunate reminder, as he had been about to convince himself that a small one wouldn't hurt, low or toward the back where it would be difficult to see, with her hair and her hooded cloak. Thor made a less pleased sound of acknowledgment, and instead he delved his touch still lower, nudging between her legs to find her folds. He felt her breath catch, the sudden twitch of her back against his chest; she was already wet.
He went slowly, mindful that they must be quiet. He used just one finger to start, rubbing slowly up and down the seam of her, spreading the thick moisture over her flesh. Then he let it drift up, finding her clit and flickering his touch over it, again and again, quick for only a heartbeat -- long enough for her to bite her lip, breathing fast and reedy, shifting against him to part her legs a little further invitingly -- and then he slowed it again, circling steadily.
There was a flush rising under her pale skin, and though her eyes were closed, Thor found himself irresistibly drawn in to her again, his mouth finding her ear and pulling it into his mouth once more. Sif made a very soft sound in the back of her throat, and he regretted deeply that they were not playing the game: he would coax that sound out of her in full voice, play her body until she was groaning, hips working for more...
His own arousal pressed firmly against her back, growing quickly until he was distractingly hard. Thor stroked her again, this time with two fingers, and then they dipped deep, easing into her welcoming channel without resistance. He scraped his teeth over her lobe, making Sif's slender frame tighten with response, but she stayed quiet, almost motionless, except for the hurried rise and fall of her chest.
Even like this, struggling against her own reaction, Thor found it mesmerizing. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.
Sif husked back, "No need for flattery. Just -- don't stop that."
Thor's lips curved up, and he obeyed, rocking his fingers in an even rhythm, filling her as best they could and then slipping half out; he wanted it to be him, imagined it being him, but he focused on her pleasure, bringing a third finger to bear against her clit. Sif turned her head against the coarse travel pillow, biting her lip as his fingers stroked her, inside and out... Her hips shifted slightly, pushing into the next push in, seeking more. Her breathing was growing more labored, her urgency building. Thor felt the same heat, ready, eager for her climax.
Completely not ready for the voice that called, "I'll have the water to a boil in just a moment. Not that I'm at all worried, when most of you have likely flapped your mouths enough to generate all the heat you need to get by. Thor, help me with the pot."
Thor froze, unable to pull himself out of the moment enough to think of an answer, or even to move. It was Sif who said, her voice only slightly rusty, "He fell right to sleep, Loki."
Hnn, Thor pressed his lips to the back of her neck again, fervent appreciation. The rest of him he kept completely motionless, paralysis his only protection against the sudden very potent reminder that they were not alone.
"Then you help. The fire will only take me a second to prepare, and then you can be warm here, as well."
Another beat of silence passed before Sif said, "Yes, all right." Thor quickly withdrew his hands as Sif shifted, slowly. She adjusted her clothing discreetly as she sat up, and murmured in an undertone, "Though I am more than warm enough right now."
"My only regret is leaving the work unfinished," Thor whispered.
Sif brushed his jaw, and then got to her feet, wobbling as she reached for her pack. She dropped a rag 'carelessly' on the bedroll as she struggled back into her thick outer coat. "I said I am warm," she said. Thor could not disagree with that, as he felt the same; in fact, his blood was running hot. "And later... after I'm done teaching you that lesson I promised about getting smug with me," she added without looking at him, "it will be your turn to lie still while I make sure you do not regret your generosity."
He would happily take that a thousand times over, Thor decided.
Contains Thor/Sif. Contains the first 75% or so of sex. And it is technically sex in public. So, get your scandalized pearls ready to clutch! Or don't. Fills the "stranded / survival scenario" square on my
hc_bingo card. And, hey, let's say the "in public" square of my kink_bingo card!.sheltered.
The wind roaring around them was bitingly cold, so much so that it was difficult to breathe. Thor stumbled out into the whitened world, hood drawn up tightly over his face, and sought out Loki's dark shape amidst the empty landscape. He couldn't even see the edge of the cliff -- everything just became gray mere steps away from him. But Loki was easy to make out, with his heavy cloak billowing about him, inky black breaking up the monotony of the blizzard that had come upon them so suddenly as they traveled through the mountains.
"Loki!" Thor called, his voice hoarser and rougher than he'd meant it to be. He saw the black shape straighten a little. "We need water!"
He couldn't be sure if Loki heard him; he knew that when Loki turned, slicing the air with one gloved hand and calling back, he could scarcely hear any of it, the words stolen by the wind.
But they needed the water, so he began to trudge closer through the growing drifts of snow. It wasn't until he got close enough to see Loki's face more clearly that he heard Loki saying, loud and certain, "Get back in the cave before you freeze! I know what we need!"
Loki was the least affected by the cold, of all of them. Thor was stubbornly holding out, but it was just that -- stubbornness. He was just as painfully numbed from the bitter air and choking winds; his body felt just as unresponsive. Despite Loki's pale face and reddened nose and ears, he seemed to be functioning almost as well as normal. Certainly he was more than capable of analyzing their situation and needs just as well, if not better, than any of the rest of them.
"Stay safe!" Thor shouted at him. "Do not push yourself if you need to come out of the cold!"
He could tell that Loki dismissed his words of caution, but he had to admit that his presence was not needed. He would go inside, and do what he could within the sheltered cave where the others were bedded down to wait out the storm.
The Warriors Three were all bundled together, their bedding gathered into one shivering pile. It might have been unfortunate -- Fandral's voice, in particular, rose unsteadily to complain about how he was forced to keep company with Volstagg the Porcine and Hogun the Dead Fish, and Volstagg was quick to snap back that his pork was doing a fair job keeping them all alive and warm -- but Thor was glad of it. If they were complaining, it meant they were surviving well enough indeed.
On the other hand, Sif was quiet, lying apart from them, curled huddled on her side, buried deep in her bedroll. She was not moving, and when Thor came to stand over her she didn't stir; sleeping, perhaps, but Thor worried over her unnatural pallor. She looked like the dead.
Thor crouched down next to her pallet, starting quickly to shed the outer layers of his gear. "Dying of cold weather in a cave is not the way I thought you would go out," he teased her, lowering his voice for a semblance of his privacy.
Without even opening her eyes, Sif murmured, "We will see who dies of cold weather when I hurl you out into the snow in your smallclothes."
Thor grinned. He moved with as much speed as he could muster, reluctant though he was to lose his layered coats. He dropped them over Sif's blanket and then slid under them, pressing up behind her so that his chest lined her back. They were both still dressed, but their clothes were thin enough to transmit body heat.
"I told you I wanted no special treatment," Sif murmured, now reluctantly lifting her head to frown at him.
"I believe Hogun and Volstagg are snuggling just as sweetly not twenty feet from us," Thor said, innocent.
That earned a snort of amusement from her. Thor let his arms wrap around her, and then she gasped, protesting, "Your hands are like ice!"
"I know. But your belly is nice and warm," he hummed, and then winced when she elbowed him in the ribs, not gently. But she shifted beneath the covers, her fingers curling around his hands as if to warm them with her smaller ones.
She was by no means warm, but she was better off than he was, and the gesture softened him a little. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Sif had been adamant about keeping their private life private: she sought to minimize any public displays of affection, not out of any sort of shame, but because she knew it might make their companions uncomfortable to have to watch them behave like lovers when they were attending business.
Though obviously Thor had hoped she would make an exception for this moment, he could not have said why she did. Because they could not be seen? Because their companions were preoccupied with other concerns? Because she acknowledged the necessity of shared body heat, right now, right here?
With her hand rubbing his chilled flesh, Thor chose to believe it was because she worried about him, and wanted him to be warm.
"Loki will bring the snow in," he reported. "Start a fire -- boil it down -- and when we drink it, we will all be properly warmed again."
Sif sighed, admitting, "I have all but forgotten what it feels like to be warm. Never in my life have I been so excited to hear I will have the chance to drink hot water."
Thor chuckled, and promised her, "The herbs Hogun found earlier will make for a decent tea, according to him. Drinking tea is a perfectly respectable thing to do when you feel cold."
"I am beyond cold," she said, hushed. "I fear if an enemy fell upon us in the state, I would be of no use to you. I can barely move my hands."
"They seem like a warm blessing to me," Thor said easily, but her quiet words concerned him, and he drew her closer against him, enveloping her all the more in his arms.
None of them would even consider the possibility of falling to a mere winter storm, however fierce. Even trapped in a dark cave in the freezing cold, they all knew that they would find a way to get by if there came to be any real danger. But it was still unnerving to have the reminders so vivid: Sif's shivering body, her grim prompt that other dangers might yet lurk, the howling of the wind outside as it grew especially loud.
He added, "Besides, if an enemy attacked, your body would heat up from the excitement. You would forget all about the cold."
Sif made a little sound in her throat, half agreement and half appreciation. "And you would not need it. You are practically a furnace as it is."
Thor's lips curved up, and he rubbed his hand slowly over her belly; now that it was warmed again, he wanted to give back more of that warmth to her. "Perhaps it runs in the family," he said. "With Loki running about in the blizzard, his blood must pump hotter than mine."
"He must. It even sounds cold out there." Sif shifted, her head curving against the small travel pillow, and she mused, "Though he likely prefers it out there. When he comes back in, he will be expected to play nursemaid to those fools..."
They both fell silent for a moment to appreciate the truth of that statement; without their murmured conversation, they had nothing to distract them from the bickering coming from the tangled bedroll not far away.
"If that hand remains on the inside of my knee, I will part it from its owner," Hogun pronounced impassively, and he must have accompanied these words with a look, because Fandral's voice immediately lifted in a ruffled cry of, "Why does everyone always assume it's me?" that overwhelmed Volstagg's sheepish, "Sorry. Nice and warm there." And then Hogun was saying, "I assume because you give me every reason to," and so Fandral complained, "Excuse me, but I don't believe I've given you any indication I'd like to mess around above your knees, as I would very much not like that. You're not my type, for one, and I quite enjoy living, for another."
Sif was smiling, he could hear it in her voice when she finally said, "You see?"
"And who could blame him," Thor agreed.
"Not I."
Thor hummed, leaning forward, and he said quietly, "Between the two of us, I think I have been quite fortunate with this arrangement..." His lips brushed behind her ear, nuzzling to the corner of her jaw.
She exhaled a breath, and whispered, "You take too many liberties."
"If it were such a grievous overstepping of my bounds, you would already have stopped me by now," he said implacably, and then edged in to draw the lobe of her ear into his mouth, tugging on it lingeringly.
This time the shudder that twisted under Sif's skin was very different than her miserable cold of earlier. "You cannot be serious. Quit your fooling around."
"Why can I not be serious?" He met her gaze earnestly when she turned to stare at him over her shoulder. "We are stranded here in this cave, freezing, unable to do much else until the storm passes. We already discussed how getting our blood pumping would be... just the thing, really, to keep us warm. And they will not see, just as they do not see now."
Sif held her stare, evaluating his sincerity and weighing the pros and cons in her mind. A good sign, Thor thought, because it was well within the realm of possibility that she found the suggestion so insulting that she tossed him out of the bedroll and broke every bone in his hands vengefully.
But he had thought, more than once, that perhaps if she were reluctant to be seen being intimate with him, that she might... take some pleasure in hiding that intimacy in plain sight. With the bedroll heavy around them, facing away from their companions and their companions facing away from them, Thor's broad back shielding her from sight, and the distractions of cold and discomfort and their own relentless quarreling keeping the Warriors Three busy, they were as likely to go unseen as they ever would be.
He could have used more words: encouraging, tempting, wheedling words. But he reined himself in, waiting impatiently for her to come to her own conclusion. He did not want to be said to have influenced her into it later, even though he was hardly capable of influencing her to do something she truly did not wish to do, and certainly not without a fierce fight.
And then she said, under her breath, "It will be too obvious if we rut together."
Thor leaned in, brushing her neck with his lips, and murmured, "Then I will warm you, and suffer through my wanting without fulfillment, to keep still and maintain the illusion. Perhaps later, you can... return the favor."
Sif let out a breath through her teeth, and then warned, "You will not play that game."
"What game?"
"The force your partner to make noise game." Her eyes narrowed.
Thor complained, "But that is our favorite game." He stroked his hand over her belly again, and when she opened her lips to hiss a response, he murmured quietly, "I will be good."
"That's right, you will," she muttered. "And I will thrash you for your impertinence the next time we meet on a sparring field."
If that promise was meant to slake his ardor, it was unsuccessful. Thor hummed his interest, and his fingers brushed lower, finding the waistband of her trousers. He nuzzled the back of her neck, sliding his lips to the side.
"No -- marks," she reminded him, her breath hitching a little as his now-warm fingers found her bare skin.
A fortunate reminder, as he had been about to convince himself that a small one wouldn't hurt, low or toward the back where it would be difficult to see, with her hair and her hooded cloak. Thor made a less pleased sound of acknowledgment, and instead he delved his touch still lower, nudging between her legs to find her folds. He felt her breath catch, the sudden twitch of her back against his chest; she was already wet.
He went slowly, mindful that they must be quiet. He used just one finger to start, rubbing slowly up and down the seam of her, spreading the thick moisture over her flesh. Then he let it drift up, finding her clit and flickering his touch over it, again and again, quick for only a heartbeat -- long enough for her to bite her lip, breathing fast and reedy, shifting against him to part her legs a little further invitingly -- and then he slowed it again, circling steadily.
There was a flush rising under her pale skin, and though her eyes were closed, Thor found himself irresistibly drawn in to her again, his mouth finding her ear and pulling it into his mouth once more. Sif made a very soft sound in the back of her throat, and he regretted deeply that they were not playing the game: he would coax that sound out of her in full voice, play her body until she was groaning, hips working for more...
His own arousal pressed firmly against her back, growing quickly until he was distractingly hard. Thor stroked her again, this time with two fingers, and then they dipped deep, easing into her welcoming channel without resistance. He scraped his teeth over her lobe, making Sif's slender frame tighten with response, but she stayed quiet, almost motionless, except for the hurried rise and fall of her chest.
Even like this, struggling against her own reaction, Thor found it mesmerizing. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.
Sif husked back, "No need for flattery. Just -- don't stop that."
Thor's lips curved up, and he obeyed, rocking his fingers in an even rhythm, filling her as best they could and then slipping half out; he wanted it to be him, imagined it being him, but he focused on her pleasure, bringing a third finger to bear against her clit. Sif turned her head against the coarse travel pillow, biting her lip as his fingers stroked her, inside and out... Her hips shifted slightly, pushing into the next push in, seeking more. Her breathing was growing more labored, her urgency building. Thor felt the same heat, ready, eager for her climax.
Completely not ready for the voice that called, "I'll have the water to a boil in just a moment. Not that I'm at all worried, when most of you have likely flapped your mouths enough to generate all the heat you need to get by. Thor, help me with the pot."
Thor froze, unable to pull himself out of the moment enough to think of an answer, or even to move. It was Sif who said, her voice only slightly rusty, "He fell right to sleep, Loki."
Hnn, Thor pressed his lips to the back of her neck again, fervent appreciation. The rest of him he kept completely motionless, paralysis his only protection against the sudden very potent reminder that they were not alone.
"Then you help. The fire will only take me a second to prepare, and then you can be warm here, as well."
Another beat of silence passed before Sif said, "Yes, all right." Thor quickly withdrew his hands as Sif shifted, slowly. She adjusted her clothing discreetly as she sat up, and murmured in an undertone, "Though I am more than warm enough right now."
"My only regret is leaving the work unfinished," Thor whispered.
Sif brushed his jaw, and then got to her feet, wobbling as she reached for her pack. She dropped a rag 'carelessly' on the bedroll as she struggled back into her thick outer coat. "I said I am warm," she said. Thor could not disagree with that, as he felt the same; in fact, his blood was running hot. "And later... after I'm done teaching you that lesson I promised about getting smug with me," she added without looking at him, "it will be your turn to lie still while I make sure you do not regret your generosity."
He would happily take that a thousand times over, Thor decided.