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Homage

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“I’m here,” Loki said simply, and Thor couldn’t help the smile that curled at the corners of his lips. Despite all the horrors, the loss of friends, his world, his father, and even his own eye, his brother hadn’t run again but had decided to come back. To him.

There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in him, as Asgard’s new king crossed the room in three, long strides and hauled his brother into his arms. Loki struggled automatically, attempting to prod Thor loose and calling him a ‘sentimental buffoon’, but Thor was fairly sure it was only by rout. At the very least, his brother didn’t magic any sharp knives and stab him with them. As was his usual custom.

After Loki’s complaints subsided into mere grumbles, Thor sighed in relief, pulled his brother even closer, and buried his face into Loki’s silky black hair. He closed his remaining eye and just held on, trying to soak in the knowledge of his brother’s presence. Loki’s lips and nose were pressed to the side of Thor’s neck and the god of thunder could feel his even breaths. After a moment, those slender arms came up to link loosely around Thor’s back and he felt himself relaxing even more.

He had just been so overjoyed to realize that Loki was still alive. He hadn’t set foot on Asgard since he had fled it with Loki, and Jane, after their Mother’s death. It had been an ingrained reflex, protecting his brother, and his first instinct after Frigga’s funeral had been to take Loki and run. Their father had been unstable since Loki’s re-appearance on Midgard, and it had only grown worse when the Dark Elves and the Aether returned, until he was all-but unrecognizable in the wake of their Mother’s death.

Thor had known that Father would have sentence Loki to death but for Mother, and there was no way he would leave his brother – no matter what he had done – in Odin’s hands once she was gone. It didn’t even matter that he needed Loki to get off Asgard after their father closed the Bifrost. The truth was he would have broken Loki out of the dungeons regardless.

But then Loki had died in his arms on Svartlheim.

Thor had felt every part of him shatter as Loki faded away right before his eyes. His little brother had been so unstable since he had learned of his heritage, but Thor had begun to see the old Loki after their Mother had spent time with him in his cell. He had begun to…….hope.

And then Loki was gone. Just like Mother.

Thor had been unable to bear going back to Asgard and had fled to Earth with Jane. He had tried to build a relationship with her, tried to be a worthy member of the Avengers, but she had been right in saying that he wasn’t really there with her. The greater part of him had been left behind on the barren wasteland of Svartlheim.

He had leapt at the chance to escape even Earth in his quest to find the Infinity Stones.

But then he had come back to Asgard to return Surtur’s crown and….Loki had been there. Thor had suspected as soon as he saw that ostentatious statue at the front of the newly-built theatre; only Loki had liked those horns on his helmet. Odin, sitting in his bathrobe and eating grapes, watching a play of Loki’s last moments in Thor’s arms was the icing on the metaphorical cake. The dialogue – although overly verbose and exaggerated – was something their father hadn’t been privy to. Plus, their father’s mannerisms were completely gone and Loki’s mischievous nature had taken their place.

It had been instinct trying to one-up his brother and get him to drop his disguise. It had felt like old times to stand beside his brother on Earth as they searched for their father. But then everything else had happened and Thor hadn’t had time to truly process, to realize deep-down that Loki was still alive.

He also hadn’t had time to process that they both apparently had a sister now. Had a sister now, if she had died with the destruction of Asgard.

“You realize she’s probably not dead,” Loki murmured, apparently reading Thor’s mind as was his wont.

Thor groaned. “Not now, Loki. Please.”

“If she was that powerful, she would have teleported out of there before Surtur touched her. She could be anywhere,” Loki continued, undeterred. His refined voice was a soothing murmur in Thor’s ear, his silky hair tickled his brother’s nose, and his clever, ceaselessly-moving fingers tapped restlessly along Thor’s sides.

Thor felt the glow of his brother’s magic wash over him and knew that Loki was probably checking him for injuries. A spark of his own lightning fizzled over him, causing Loki to jump slightly in his arms. “Sorry,” he murmured, “reflex.” But he gave up on anymore relaxation and pulled back, holding Loki at arm’s distance.

As Thor had first noticed on Asgard, Loki was looking much better. Those four years as Asgard’s king, without Odin and without Thor, had obviously been good for him. His reason had returned to him, as well as his temperance, his keen political and strategically mind, and his love and duty for their people. And if he still attempted to backstab everyone he met and slither out of the most obvious responsibility……..well, that was just Loki.

Thor chuckled. “You’re looking well, brother,” he told him.

Loki arched an eyebrow. “And you’re looking like shit,” he said, sharp and forthright.

Thor chuckled again, releasing his brother and turning away to finally pour himself a drink. “Never one to mince words, were you?” he asked, lazily. He poured a generous measure of the grandmaster’s Asgardian mead into a glass tumbler and dropped onto the large bed with a muffled groan of exhaustion.

Loki watched him carefully.

“I’m alright,” Thor assured him. “Tired, but aren’t we all.”

“And your eye?”

“Our sister has quite the arm.” Loki didn’t look surprised. “I had it seen to. There’s nothing the healers can do.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Now I really look like Father.” Years ago there would have been pride in that statement, now he was uncomfortably aware of how many mistakes their father had made and the comparison unsettled him.

Loki was suddenly before him, nimble fingers removing the metal patch before skating carefully over the puckered, healed skin. Thor felt the cool brush of Loki’s seidr again, felt his brother’s powerful magic going even deeper than the healers had as he seamlessly repaired small arteries under the skin and knit the muscles around his eye socket back together.

His brother had always been talented, had learned everything their Mother had taught him, and had attained the title Master of Magic before he had even left young adulthood. Even Heimdall didn’t know the true extent of Loki’s abilities which was, Thor suspected, part of the reason for the friction between them.

When Loki was done, Thor opened up his remaining eye to look up at him. Loki was very close, standing comfortably between Thor’s spread legs, their thighs pressing together, as his cool, slim fingers skated gently over Thor’s cheeks, the bridge of his nose, the lines on his forehead. Thor felt tendrils of relaxation and healing enter him at all the points his brother touched.

“Thank you, brother,” he murmured, feeling his eye drift close again of its own accord. He tilted backwards and Loki’s arms were there, easing him back down onto the bed. With his last, conscious thought, Thor got out, “when Hela comes back, we’ll face her together. She will be…….less powerful now……and……………..Loki……..”

He fell asleep and dreamed of Valhalla; of Volstagg’s heart laugh and Fandral’s clever quips, of Hogun’s grim pride in Thor, and of Mother and Father, watching him while standing arm in arm.

“Take care of your brother,” Frigga’s calm, powerful voice whispered to him; an echo from their childhood.

Loki wasn’t there when Thor awoke. His first panicked thought was that his brother had left again, but he found Loki soon enough, sparring with the Valkyrie. It was a practice that soon became tradition between them, given the similarity in their fighting styles. Thor tried to keep out of his brother’s way, spending time with the Valkyrie when Loki was elsewhere. He was busy with the many needs of his severely-depleted people but, more than that, he remembered the feel of Loki in his arms, his brother’s lips pressed to his bare skin, his last plea for…..something….as Loki gently pushed him into sleep. His brother standing, all-but pressed against him, nestled between his legs as those fingers touched his face so softly.

His brother had always been beautiful. It was something Thor had thought since they were both younger. The women at court had always gone on about the crown prince’s golden locks, his muscled figure, the square jaw, but Thor had always thought Loki the more beautiful of the two of them. His black-haired brother with his slender figure, lean and hard with muscle, his long, tapered fingers, those thin, soft lips, that clever, mocking voice, those bright, changeable eyes…Thor had touched himself to imaginations of Loki since he had reached puberty.

Was it any wonder that he loved snakes?

He had tried so hard to bury those inappropriate feelings, but he had been helpless not to reach out and touch his brother whenever he had the opportunity; a casual clap on the shoulder, a palm to his cheek, a hand over his mouth to stop that reckless tongue of his, fingers tangled in inky-black hair as he fruitlessly tried to get his brother to see reason. Innocent, yet they had soothed a part of Thor’s soul which had longed ever for his brother’s presence.

Thor was sure no one had discovered the true reasons for his need to touch his little brother. Except maybe their Mother. Frigga had always possessed a knowing glint in her eye when she discussed Loki with Thor, but then their Mother was discreet, understanding and…….well, she loved them both. If there had been something……wrong, with the younger Thor wanking himself to the form of his brother……surely, she would have said? But whatever she had suspected, or known, of Thor’s feelings, she had never confronted her firstborn with it. Perhaps she had decided to let them work it out together.

Which would have been fine if Loki had the same feelings back for Thor. Given the fact that his brother usually couldn’t even stand his presence, Thor was positive Loki felt mild annoyance and unwilling loyalty towards him at best.

So he avoided his brother.

Loki appeared content with this state of affairs until Thor found himself flanked in his own throne room a fortnight into their trip to Earth. He had apparently dosed off after several hours of grueling meetings with various Asgardian citizens about complaints and problems and concerns. Most people were still uncertain about the wisdom of re-settling on Midgard. Thor had argued himself hoarse and had been too exhausted to get up after the throne room emptied. He had sat there, closed his eye for just a second of rest, and woke to feel a creak in his neck and to see Loki’s deliberately nonchalant figure before him. There was a disturbing glint in his brother’s changeable eyes.

“Oh God, what’d you do?” Thor demanded instantly, sitting bolt upright and looking around for any injured parties. But there was no one else in the room with them, the doors at the far end were closed and bolted from the inside, and the only light in the place was the distant stars.

Loki’s smile grew. He looked like a snake eyeing his prey, given the unblinking nature of his gaze. Thor tiredly rubbed a hand over his face. “Brother,” he growled, annoyed and flustered by the dark-haired man’s regard. Loki took a step closer to him, until his leather-clad knees brushed Thor’s own.

His crotch was at a level with Thor’s gaze. Valiantly, the newly enthroned king of Asgard tried not to look.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Loki accused. His voice was coolly polite, as though he was just discussing the weather, but his eyes were hot as they fixed on Thor’s face.

“Really?” Thor attempted to keep his voice even, deciding to brazen it out. “I’ve been really busy, you know. King-ing and all.” Pause. “I’m sure I’m doing a better job than you did, while pretending to be Odin,” he couldn’t resist adding.

Loki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, before raking his gaze over Thor from head to foot. What he was looking for, Thor didn’t know, but the force of that gaze sent tingles down the god of thunder’s spine. His hands tightened on the armrests, burning to reach out and touch. Loki was so close.

Thor swallowed before forcing his gaze back up to Loki’s face.

Loki licked his lips, his eyes still intently watching his brother, and Thor felt a spark of arousal dart through him. He shifted his hips and made to stand up, but still when Loki leaned onto his legs, effectively stopping him.

“Can I help you with something, brother?” Thor tried to demand, his voice going low and gravelly as he tried to shift in his seat again. He was half-hard already, just from Loki’s nearness. His brother shuddered a bit, his eyes fluttering, before he dropped to his knees before Thor, hands coming up to grasp the tops of Thor’s thighs.

“What are you-” Thor began, sucking in a breath harshly as Loki’s slender fingers began moving smoothly up the inside of his thighs, stroking up and down along the length.

“You’ve been denying yourself everything, brother,” Loki murmured, his intense gaze fixed not on Thor, but on the movements of his own hands, as though distantly surprised at himself. “Why deny yourself this, if it is what you want?” His hands moved further up the insides of Thor’s thighs, so close to Thor’s rapidly hardening cock. With a strangled moan, Thor’s legs parted even further and Loki scooted between them, before running his hands once more along Thor’s legs and then palming the hard bulge in his brother’s leathers.

Thor cursed, head falling back and hitting the back of the chair as Loki squeezed. His hips jerked and he slid down the chair, legs going limp as he tried to press himself further into Loki’s firm grip.

“Bro….Brother…..” he breathed, his hips arching helplessly.

And then his pants were completely gone, goosebumps prickling on his bare legs from the cool air, as Loki magicked his trousers and underclothes away. Thor moaned again as he felt Loki wrap strong fingers around his swollen shaft. That traitorous organ began to throb as Loki bent his head and Thor felt smooth lips wrap around the head. Loki swirled his tongue once around the head, laving attention at the slit until a drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip. Then he pulled back, licked his palm and began to work his saliva and the slick, wetness of Thor’s pre-cum over his brother’s cock.

Slowly at first, and then faster, he worked the shaft, soft murmurs of encouragement passing his lips in response to Thor’s breathless sighs and needy groans. It wasn’t long before Thor lost all control over himself, thrusting languidly into his brother’s hold, neck and stomach muscles straining as he arched and that overwhelming wave of pleasure grew.

Sighing, he breathed, “Loki.”

His brother’s surprised, delighted laughter caused his eye to open and to search for that familiar, well-loved face. Loki’s face was flushed, his hair mussed, and his lips parted. His other hand had disappeared from Thor’s line of sight and the god of thunder knew that it was wrapped around his brother’s own erection.

“Please,” he begged, loving the way Loki’s eyes dilated at his plea, pupils blown wide, and his grip around Thor’s cock tightened even further. After a moment, Loki bent his head between Thor’s legs, licking that hot, rough tongue along the length of his brother’s throbbing cock. As Thor moaned again, Loki took as much of his brother as he could into his mouth, swirling his tongue and breathing shallowly before attempting to take even more.

Thor, pleasure burning through him, reached out and tangled thick fingers into Loki’s hair. As his brother moaned at the sensation, vibrations shooting through Thor’s heavily-engorged cock, Asgard’s prince took his brother deep within his throat.

Thor saw stars. His hand pulled ruthlessly at Loki’s hair even as his hips rose and he began to thrust into that warm, wet heat. It took only minutes for him to come, bursting apart deep within his brother’s mouth as his cock pulsed and he felt Loki sucking him down.

He moaned again at the knowledge that his brother had taken him, that he had marked that beautiful face with evidence of his own pleasure. More cum shot out of him, Loki eagerly swallowing it, as Thor fully realized what had just happened. This….this is what Loki did to him.

As soon as the spots dancing before his vision cleared, Thor hauled Loki up into his lap, feeling his brother’s flaccid cock and messy balls leaving streaks of his own release upon Thor’s thighs and shirt.

But he didn’t care.

He pressed trembling lips against his brothers, feeling guilt and shame, love and the remnants of arousal, all swirling through him. But more than any of that he felt need, that same all-consuming need to have his brother close which he had felt for his entire life.

“Loki,” he breathed, one-part question, one-part prayer, as his lips opened against those of his brother.

The god of mischief, boneless and pliant after his own release, shuddered against him. For once, all his snarky commentary was silenced. He gave a small sigh of his own, before he melted into Thor’s embrace, mouth opening and tongue twining with his brother’s. They shared several, hesitant kisses before Thor tilted his head and swept his tongue determinedly into his brother’s mouth, claiming him in slow, messy kisses which went on and on until they were too tired to continue, their lips numb and tingling.

Thor was sticky and half-naked, but Loki was a warm weight upon his lap and his mind still hummed from his brother’s nearness and the release he had found in his brother’s mouth. He wouldn’t have moved for the world.

He felt Loki chuckle against his cheek, smooth skin brushing against the bristles of Thor’s beard, as nimble fingers ran through Thor’s shorn hair.

“Was that what you needed, my king,” the mischievous voice, of the one person Thor truly needed in life, teased. “Was that homage enough for the ruler of Asgard?”

 Thor pulled back a bit, watching Loki sit up straight upon his lap, before he ran a careful gaze over his brother’s taut form. His big hands rose to cup that pale face, his thumbs tracing the sharp angles of his cheekbones. There was something almost fragile in Loki’s ever-changing eyes, in the flutter of his hands, in the trembling of his limbs.

When they were children, Thor had picked up that snake and held it close to him, called it beautiful and pressed his lips to its shining, emerald-green scales. It was only then that the snake shifted back into his brother and he felt the knife between his ribs.

Slowly, hesitantly, knowing that any words he said would be the wrong ones, Thor raised himself until he was pressed once more against his brother, completely exposed. He kissed Loki’s lips with all the feeling he could will into it, begging his brother to read what he was saying without words.

I love you, he wanted to say. I always have. But all he said was “Brother,” in a soft exhalation across those supple lips.

When Loki melted back into his arms, a quiet moan on his lips and already hard against Thor’s aching groin, the king of Asgard knew that his brother finally understood.

 

The End

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