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heavy in your hand

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When Thor’s fingers wrap around him, Loki forgets how to breathe.

As with most things Loki does, this was born out of boredom and curiosity. He’d wondered how Thor would treat Mjölnir, his weapon, his most famous companion.

Loki is a talented enough shapeshifter that he can take on the form of the hammer without any trouble. The appearance and texture, he can easily fake. What he cannot imitate is the weight, the way the handle sits in Thor’s hand. He’s observed Thor enough times to make his own conclusions, but he cannot be sure.

Thor adjusts his grip, apparently satisfied. Loki relaxes, and would take a deep breath if not for the fact that he doesn’t breathe as a hammer.

It’s strange, to be clipped to Thor’s belt and observe everything from this angle. It’s like being Thor’s shadow, following him without his knowledge, but without the fear of being caught.

(Loki has done that, too. He’s followed Thor for days, curious to see what he does, who he is, without all the eyes of Asgard upon him.

Loki had hoped to uncover some closely-guarded secrets, or at least discover some kind of blackmail material. He’d found nothing; Thor spent all of his time with friends, laughing and drinking and doing all the things Loki never has the patience for.

The most interesting thing had been the opportunity to watch Thor bathe, to watch him pleasure himself in the privacy of the royal baths.

The fact that Loki had enjoyed watching didn’t really strike him as odd until well after the fact.)

Thor idly rests his hand on the end of the hammer’s haft throughout the day and Loki may not be the intended recipient of such casual affection, but he enjoys it all the same.

And although Loki would never spend one of his own days training and fighting and drinking with friends, it’s strangely pleasant to experience it all through Thor. He’s content, hanging by Thor’s side for the day, using his magic to give the hammer strength whenever Thor spars in the training yard, being useful to Thor.

Then at the end of the day, once the sun begins to sink into the horizon, Thor goes to his room. There’s a table by his bed, and he places the hammer down, standing before it. Loki is confused—he’s never seen Thor do this before—but then Thor huffs out a quiet laugh.

“I must say, this is one of your stranger tricks. I do not think I quite understand, Loki.”

Oh.

Loki considers remaining as he is, but there is confidence in Thor’s expression that says he has no doubt at all. There’s little point in trying to trick someone who can see right through you.

In the blink of an eye, Loki shifts back into his usual form, still sitting on the table. If it’s strong enough to support the weight of the true Mjölnir, then it’s certainly strong enough to support him.

Tilting his head to the side, he smiles to cover up his apprehension. “What gave me away?”

“You were very convincing at first.” Thor takes a step closer to Loki, looking down at him. There’s amusement in his eyes, not irritation, and Loki takes that as a good sign. “You must have caught me examining you—every physical detail was perfect, down to the roughness of the metal.”

Loki’s lips twitch. He’s never known Thor to pay such close attention to detail with anything but Mjölnir.

“What did you do with the true Mjölnir?” Thor asks, but he is unconcerned. He knows, as well as Loki, that there is nothing that anybody can truly do to the hammer.

“I hid it,” Loki replies. “Put an invisibility spell over it and then placed myself right beside it. Like you said, it worked at first. It was a gamble, not knowing how heavy I should feel to you, but you seemed convinced enough. Tell me, what made you realise?”

“Something I rarely mention to anybody is the… connection I feel.” Thor’s hand hovers just by Loki’s wrist, not quite touching it, although the proximity has Loki’s skin feeling suddenly sensitive, just waiting

“A connection, you say,” Loki inquires, focusing on keeping his voice even.

“Mjölnir… comes when I beckon,” Thor explains. “Surely, you have seen it. I hold out my hand, and it comes back to me. You do not do that. Or, you did… but there was a delay. Your magic, I assume. I could not feel you in my head, in the very fibre of my being. You are not a part of me, the way that Mjölnir is.”

Loki nods, wishing that the words didn’t sting quite the way they do. He looks away, and Thor’s fingers finally close around his wrist, bringing his gaze back up.

“You enjoyed it, though.” It’s not a question. If anything, it’s a hushed realisation, the surprise clear in Thor’s raised eyebrows. “Why?”

Loki shakes his head, not knowing how to explain. He wants to get up, to leave, but Thor’s hand holds him in place.

“Tell me.”

“Thor,” Loki protests in a whisper, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

“I doubt that anything I did today would have interested you, so it must be something else. You… wanted to be Mjölnir because of the power? But you have considerable power of your own…”

“I wanted…” Loki begins, licking his lips, still refusing to meet Thor’s gaze, “I wanted to be a tool, at the mercy of your hands. Your direction. All of Asgard knows that Mjölnir is one of the most powerful weapons in existence, but it all comes down to the fact that you influence what it does.”

“And you wanted to experience that?” Thor asks, his voice hushed.

“I don’t know. I was curious. I did not put any further thought into it.”

“You are a liar,” Thor murmurs, but he’s smiling, crowding into Loki’s space. “So what you are truly saying… is that you wish to be at the mercy of my hands?”

Thor.” Loki’s eyes widen in surprise as he realises what Thor means. He’s wanted it for years and years, now, but he’s never even once considered that Thor would feel the same.

“Do you?” Thor asks, his expression serious now. There’s still a playful gleam to his eyes, but he knows what he is asking. He knows the weight this decision holds. It has the potential to change everything, and Thor is prepared to take that risk.

Loki doesn’t even need to think about it; there have been days when it’s all that he’s thought of. The answer is on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes.” He reaches for Thor, pulling him closer. Thor goes willingly, his large, warm hands settling on Loki’s sides. “Yes.”