The object is the length of a forearm. Slender and smooth, latex a blushed peach shade. At its base is a slim, triangular overhang, the corners smoothed out like a well-worn door stopper. Rocket displays the item on Thor’s abdomen, nestled between two lines of muscle. The thing would stand up on its own if Rocket let it, held in place by the grooves of Thor’s body. His fingers are too small to wrap around the thing.
Thor examines the piece from his back. A sheet is lazily draped over his waist, one knee pulled up and an arm tucked behind his head. His one-eyed gaze takes in the object. “What’s this?” he asks.
“What’s it look like? They don’t got dildos where you’re from?” Thor blinks. “Sex toys?”
This gets a nod of acknowledgment. “Yes, but I’ve never seen one like this before,” Thor says.
Rocket shrugs. “That’s ‘cause I made it.”
“Yeah. I mean.” Rocket scritches the toy. “They got stuff like this on Terra. But I thought... This is stupid. You don’t gotta try it. I just-”
“You thought what?” Thor asks.
Rocket huffs. “I thought you should have something different. You ain’t no Terran, you’re you, so…” He snarls. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal. Killed some time. Better than thinkin’ about Thanos, or Groot, or-”
“Rabbit.” Thor gives him a serious look. “If this will please you, I will try it. But I have enjoyed our time together. You have nothing to prove to me.”
“It ain’t about proving nothing,” Rocket grumbles, but his shoulders slump, and his head stays down. He only moves when Thor shifts under him, a languid stretch that moves the sheet higher up his naked thighs. Thor reaches for the jar of oil on the nightstand. It is still uncapped from the night before, when Thor made Rocket writhe and shatter into a million pieces.
Sleep-warmth still dusts Thor’s cheeks and chest. “I suppose I should prepare myself first?” he asks.
The shame that led to this side project sours Rocket’s stomach again. From being too weak to save his best friend. Still being alive with the rest of his crew dead. And forget Rocket's shame over not being able to help Thor find his people. He can’t even loosen Thor up for a stupid sex toy. “Guess so,” Rocket mumbles. “We don’t have to do it now. Tonight, or… I don’t know. Not a big deal.”
“I’d like to,” Thor insists. His smile is as genuine as any of them are capable of nowadays. “Thank you, sweet Rabbit. You’ve put in much time and effort on my behalf.”
“It’s a dildo,” Rocket mutters. “Not a quantum hyperdrive.”
Thor nods thoughtfully. “Why do they call it that?” he wonders as he oils his fingers. “Dildo… It’s an odd word, isn’t it?”
Rocket shrugs. He pulls the toy down and lets Thor ease the blanket from his waist. His cock, even half-stiff, is ridiculous. It's too big for Rocket to fathom doing anything with. And why Rocket thought up this plan to begin with.
First, Rocket had to accept that a demi-god wanted to fuck him. Him. Rocket. And fuck him repeatedly.
When Rocket finally bought in, he quickly realized how terrible he was at getting Thor off. Thor can play Rocket like a piano. He slurps Rocket's cock between his lips and finger fucks Rocket with no effort whatsoever. Thor can get Rocket off by only rubbing his body. Fingers through the tuff at the back of Rocket’s neck or in the sensitive place above Rocket’s tail.
Rocket, though, can't do one thing for Thor. His post-coital daze inevitably fades every time to find Thor jerking himself off...again. Some nights, the guy doesn’t bust a nut at all. Thor just helps Rocket clean up and settles beside him for sleep.
Embarrassed, Rocket decided to do something. He may not have been strong enough to keep his friends alive, and he can't help Thor find his crew. But Rocket can help Thor forget life sucks for a little while.
Thor dips a moist hand between his knees. When he turns, Rocket takes his cue, climbing to tuck his face against Thor’s. Their noses touch. “Be patient with me,” Thor says. “I’ve not done this in some time.”
From this angle, Rocket can’t see what Thor is doing. He takes in the severe curve of Thor’s wrist. The way his hips rock back and his half-aroused cock bobs across his thigh. Thor’s eye closes for a moment and opens again as a slim line of color. “It...has definitely been some time.” The words come out as a gentle laugh.
Rocket decides that he likes this angle. The long expanse of Thor's chest rising and falling every time he breathes. The shiver of his abdomen as his hips settle into rhythm. His nipples stiffen into two perfect pink buds. Rocket’s mouth waters for them.
Instead, he rubs his face against Thor’s neck. Thor’s legs slide further apart, and a shudder rolls through his waist. His eye closes again, a tense furrow between his brows. Rocket can’t help his pang of jealousy. Thor can get this kind of reaction from his own hand, but Rocket hasn’t been able to get anything close.
“I believe I’m ready,” Thor says.
Rocket finds Thor watching him. He blinks. “Oh. You want me to-”
“I thought you would-” Their colliding words cut off at the same time. Thor chuckles. “Sorry,” he says. “I failed to ask how this would work. If you’d like, I can-”
“No, no, I want to.” Rocket pushes himself up.
It takes both hands for him to scoop up the toy. Standing, the piece nearly reaches Rocket’s chin. “You, uh,” Rocket glances up the bed, “might have to help me set it up.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” A smile plays at Thor’s lips. “Something tells me you’ll be up for the task.”
Rocket isn’t sure why Thor would feel so confident in Rocket’s abilities. He doubles down on the self-doubt as soon as he gets a good look between Thor’s thighs. It’s stupid, the guy even has a gorgeous asshole! Pink and soft, stretched open in a wide, inviting berth. May as well be flashing an ‘enter here’ sign.
Rocket wets his hands in oil. It takes both for Rocket to get the toy lubed. Thor watches from up the bed. Rocket doesn’t miss the interested way Thor licks his lips or the slow scritch of his belly. It's like Thor wants to stroke himself but doesn’t want to put on too blatant of a show.
“You’ve got that?” Thor teases when Rocket hoists up the lubed dildo. As proud as Rocket is of his handiwork, its size is embarrassing. He has to use two hands to heft the damn thing. It’s so slick in his already tenuous grip. The dildo bobbles in Rocket's hands, he curses and tightens his fingers.
The joking light fades from Thor’s expression. “If you require assistance, I can-”
“Shut up,” Rocket snaps.
The head of the toy lines up perfectly. It looks like Rocket got the scale right. The thing will be a test for Thor, but it isn't too big.
When Rocket eases the tip inside, Thor’s knees open a touch more. “Good?” Rocket asks.
“Good,” Thor agrees faintly. “Just- slow, please. As I said, it’s been awhile.”
Thor’s body looks like a masterpiece swallowing up the peach synthetic. It fills Thor with little resistance as Thor’s thighs tremble. Thor makes a low sound of approval. “Still good?” Rocket asks. He gets a nod, tight and fast. Rocket frowns. “I said, still good?”
Thor laughs weakly. “Has anyone ever told you you’re the worst?”
“In this particular situation? No,” Rocket says. “Other times? Hell yeah. Kinda my life story, Thunder. You didn’t pick a winner here.”
“I'd beg to differ.” Thor smiles.
Carefully, Rocket nudges the toy the rest of the way inside. Its extended base fixes to Thor’s scrotum, blunt edge wedged at the base of Thor’s balls. Thor grunts, and his fingers flex over his stomach. “Mmm...it is a good size,” he commends.
“Hell yeah it is,” Rocket agrees. He climbs up to splay across Thor’s abdomen. It’s like lying on a piece of steel. “Try to relax,” Rocket says. He forearm, draped on Thor's chest, bears three simple buttons on a brace. All basic black, none labeled.
“What are those?” Thor asks.
“Don’t think about ‘em,” Rocket says. He darts his tongue out for a taste of Thor's skin. There’s an earthiness to him that Rocket can never get enough of. Rocket nuzzles Thor’s chest, fingers comb his back in return.
“It is quite pleasant,” Thor sighs. “How did you know how to craft such a thing?” He sounds distracted, an airy distance to his voice.
“Magic,” Rocket deadpans. Cheek on Thor’s chest, he presses the first button.
The puzzled crease between Thor’s eyes evens out in realization. His mouth slacks open. “It’s warm,” he whispers.
“Not too much, is it?”
“No,” Thor replies. “No, it- it’s quite nice.” Rocket nearly tumbles to the mattress when Thor shifts under him. New color flushes Thor's cheeks. He shifts again; squirming, Rocket notes. Rocket stifles a grin and taps the second button.
Thor’s eye twitches wider. When he tenses, Rocket drags a finger down the cleft of his chest. “I said relax,” he says.
“It moves,” Thor gasps.
Rocket shrugs. “It’s a dildo. You never seen a dildo move before?”
“Not,” a breath shudders off Thor's lips, “not in.”
Rocket had not seen a toy this size capable of fucking on its own either. Sure, there are big, chair-bound fucking machines and stuff. But this one uses the balance of its wedge to rock itself forward. Long and thick as the toy is, it doesn’t need to go far to get somewhere good. At least, this is what Rocket hoped when he built the thing. He didn't exactly have a frame of reference for the biology of a thunder god.
It looks like Rocket guessed right, because a bead of sweat is rolling down Thor’s temple. His thighs shudder further apart. Rocket feels the anxious thrum of Thor’s body with every thrust. Wedged against Thor’s skin, Rocket shifts in appreciation. He’s getting hard himself. “It can go faster,” Rocket suggests. “When you’re ready.”
Thor answers with a strained laugh. “I don’t think…” he swallows. “Give me a minute, let me- let me get used to this.”
Rocket hums agreement, though he’s tempted to decline. Thor never gives Rocket a break when he's stringing Rocket out with one orgasm after another. Still, Rocket likes the view he has now. There are so many emotions and sensations playing across Thor’s face. Rocket hasn’t even gotten to the third button yet.
Rocket drags himself further up Thor’s body. Thor's skin is hard and ridged against Rocket’s erection. Rocket sees no reason to be coy about jutting his hips against Thor’s ribs. With a pleased murmur, he flicks his tongue out to tease Thor’s nipple.
The sound that rips from Thor’s throat is two octaves too high and hot enough to make a guy come on its own. Thor’s fingers clench in the tuft of Rocket’s neck. Good feelings roll in waves through Rocket. His toes curl against Thor’s stomach.
Two can play at this game now. With a casual smile, Rocket preses the third button.Thor’s head falls back, and his mouth drops open. “Wh- what’s it doing, it’s- Norns-”
Rocket has no clue what a Norns is, but given the desperate texture of Thor’s voice, Rocket has to assume it’s a good thing. He doesn’t bother answering the question. Thor can feel the wedged base of the toy jut into his nutsack as purred vibrations shiver up his scrotum. All while the warmed shaft nudges softly but quite intently into Thor’s prostate... Or whatever a demi-god has down there that makes him feel good when he’s getting fucked.
And Thor does feel good. Rocket can tell even before Thor starts babbling. “Here… Come here. Let me taste you.”
Rocket feigns puzzlement, but he’s tempted. He’s throbbing like he’s been stabbed between his legs. Rocket answers Thor’s broken request with another lick of his nipple.
“Rabbit.” Thor’s voice comes out husked and trembling. “Please.” Rocket chews his cheek to keep from moaning out loud. Thor begging like this for him? Holy shit.
“Huh?” Rocket fakes not understanding again.
Thor’s nipple is blood red and pulled tight in a round pebble. It is the perfect size for Rocket to suck up into his mouth. The noise Thor makes is too harsh to be a whimper but too desperate to be anger. He rakes furious fingers down Rocket’s back, and Rocket’s tail swishes in eager reply. His belly clenches tight and wet, and moisture weeps from his little cock. Smears of precum dot Thor’s ribcage.
Rocket sucks hard on the little bud. When Thor’s back arches, Rocket almost rolls off his chest. Thor’s hand is heavy, it slides under his tail to cup his bottom. When Thor squeezes, Rocket's legs spasm beyond his control. Thor thumbs at the crown of Rocket’s asshole. With a shaking hand, Rocket pushes the second button again.
The toy responds immediately, and Thor stills. His hand slips from Rocket’s backside, and he sucks in a breath so rough Rocket expects the guy to start coughing. Thor’s expression is one of utter amazement, glowing, overwhelmed. His helpless fingers twitch against Rocket’s tail. “Please?” The word stumbles off Thor’s lips, quiet and strained.
It's crazy. Thor is on edge for the first time in who knows how long, and the thing he wants most is Rocket's miniscule dick in his mouth? The thought makes Rocket’s stomach hurt and his heart do stupid, fluttery stuff.
But when Rocket makes a plan, he sees it through to the end. He nuzzles Thor’s tongue-damp nipple and flashes his pirate angel a crooked smile. “Nope,” he purrs and taps the third button again.
Rocket isn’t sure what he expects, but the eerie whitish-blue glow that floods Thor’s eye is definitely not it. Static energy makes Rocket's fur stand up, and tremors rock his body from head to toe. A rush unlike anything Rocket has ever experienced spills through him like a downed dam. Rocket goes blank, nails leaving their mark on Thor’s skin.
Groggily, Rocket comes to lying in his own release. Energy still skitters across Thor’s chest. A jolt curls up his throat and dances enticingly over his lips. Thor's good eye is so glazed, at first Rocket thinks he’s on the verge of tears.
Thor’s mouth moves a few times before he manages any sound. “Off?” he croaks.
"Oh shit." Rocket rushes to comply. After hitting all three buttons at once, Thor’s look changes. Lightning dissolves into his pores as if it never existed. Even Thor's eyelid shines with a layer of sweat. “You ok?” Rocket asks.
“Yes,” Thor gasps. “That’s never- yes- yes, I- are you- did you find release, my friend?”
The guy is so out of his head, he can’t even feel the obvious wetness on his ribs. “Yeah,” Rocket says, fingering Thor's collarbone. “I’m good.”
“Good,” Thor breathes. “I thought- good. I was not sure.” He tries to open his eye, a shiver of his lashes reveals a line of dazed blue. “I failed you- I wanted- but-”
“Welcome to the club,” Rocket mumbles. It’s a relief that Thor doesn’t seem to hear him. His gaze is faraway, breaths coming in short, uncertain bursts. “You know,” Rocket adds, “we didn’t get to the highest setting.”
Thor chuckles. “I may not have survived such a thing.”
“Mmm.” Rocket considers the idea, cheek pillowed on Thor’s chest. “I don’t know,” he muses. “I think we can get you there.”
Drowsy fingers ease down Rocket’s back. “Maybe you’re right,” Thor agrees.