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Hunt and Game

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Game was scarce and spirits were low. The wood had already gone barren due to winter's premature arrival, leaving the earth hardened by frost and the trees void of greenery. Thor loathed the cold and felt no more comfortable with his many furs and leathers wrapped securely around his body.

It had been ill-advised to venture on a hunt so late in the season; yet his spirits had been heightened by the possibility of returning with a boar to be feasted on for the Yule holiday. He hadn't considered that the game would have migrated elsewhere; perhaps hibernated in their caves until springtime lured them out once more. Nor had he considered that only Loki would accompany him on such a disappointing hunt.

His friends, the Warrior Three and the Lady Sif, had been predisposed with other tasks of the royal court and could not join them. It had been a disappointment, but he had imagined that Loki would be in high spirits as he; which proved to be untrue. If anything, Loki had been of low morale and prone to use his venomous words upon him as game fleeted them as they delved deeper in the wood.

"Shall you admit defeat, dearest brother?" Loki asked pompously from his midnight colored steed with an ill-temper as he. "Or must we continue this charade until we have traversed the entire wood?"

"Hold your tongue, brother." Thor returned as he rode slowly across the treacherous and icy grounds. "Game will show up yet, and you will be forced to apologize for your lack of faith."

"Two days without seeing a boar, an elk, or even a hare and you believe you will find one now? The weather has sent them away, Thor, but your pride is the only thing spurring you on."

"I preferred your foreboding silence instead."

"As I prefer the warmth of my chambers and the bosom of Lady Sigyn," Loki said dryly.

Thor didn't bother to reply; he could not say any differently. The cold did little for him; his cheeks were wind-beaten and pained, and he felt numbness in his lower extremities from sitting astride on his steed for so long. They had been riding for hours now; led by the sparse pale sunlight that beamed from in between the naked tree branches.

They had traveled much of the wood already, following well-worn hunting paths, and visiting many of their former haunts. Yet they had been unlucky, and Thor feared that he would come away with nothing but his wounded pride.

"Your optimism is admirable, Thor. But my intellect has its benefits as well, and it's telling me that this is a lost cause." Loki piped up once more, sounding for all intents and purposes as a crowned prince. "There will be no game until spring; winter has already gripped the wood."

"You have very little faith, Loki."

"My faith has dwindled over the course of two days. Or have you forgotten already? Has frost settled over your brain?"

"Do not spur on my temper." Thor warned, but he expected very little from Loki in that respect.

They had exchanged temperamental words throughout their two day venture; but they had grown more and more venomous as time wore on. Loki had been particularly unbearable the previous evening, and had done very little but sulk and vocalize his complaints readily. If not entirely insult Thor about his personality to his abilities as a warrior, and everything in between.

"Will you hunt me instead, brother? Skinning me would be very messy business, I'm afraid."

"I would cut out your tongue, if anything."

"And I would cut off your manhood in return. But I presume it is as inflated as your ego; no more than folly for maidens to gossip about in court." Loki snorted in his self-satisfied manner that always invoked Thor's ire.

He drew his steed to an abrupt halt, underneath a canopy of gnarled and deadened tree branches. The slow burn of anger began to scald aggressively through him; yet it threatened to consume him utterly by another ill-advised word spoken on Loki's behalf.

Loki did not fear him, though. Even when they had exchanged blows through their boyhood; Loki did not veer away from a fight, and oftentimes provoked them by his sharp tongue and need to belittle.

"You are testing my patience, Loki."

"And you've tested mine; now will you end this charade? Or will you continue to stupidly hunt after nonexistent game?"

"You believe I'm not an able hunter?" Thor turned his steed, so he now faced his brother; who looked unperturbed by the chill in the air.

"Able hunter you may be, but unless you intend on tracking game to their caves; I assume you are at a loss."

"I will find something, you shall see."

"Oh Thor, your blind faith amuses me so. I, however, do not intend on humoring you any longer." Loki curled his lip in a mixture of annoyance and disgust, before he made to ride in the direction in which they came.

Perhaps it was the hostility in the air that invoked him, Thor couldn't precisely say; but he did know he felt a need to stop his brother before he traveled any farther away from him. He rode after him, although Loki was doing very little to divert him; in fact, he rode rather leisurely, if not entirely bored upon his steed's back.

Loki barely spared him a second glance, as he continued through the many trees and across the fallen pine needles that carpeted the ground. They crunched audibly underneath the horses' hooves; loud crackles that superseded even their combined breaths.

"You would so cruelly abandon me now, Loki? Your very blood, your elder brother," Thor demanded, feeling the anger crash inside of him like the tide.

"Oh yes, my very blood indeed," Loki arched an eyebrow with a smirk. "You might be the blood of my blood, but you haven't received my superior intellect and rationale."

Before he could truly overthink his own actions, Thor reached out to grab at Loki's ever-green mantle and gave a rather aggressive yank to it. The results were instantaneous; his brother hadn't been prepared for it, and failed to remain astride. But not without being tangled dangerously in his stirrups and dragged a yard or so by his spooked horse, until he could magic his way free and out of harm's way.

The regality that had once exuded from Loki was no more. It was instead replaced by a flustered but no less incensed mood. His steed had already galloped away, but Thor had every confidence that they would locate it again; whenever they finished their disagreement, as they would have when they were boys.

Thor dismounted from his saddle, pleased by Loki's disarray. His brother scrambled onto his knees with a wicked glint to his eyes. His perfectly coiffed hair had stuck up in several directions and was decorated by orange and red leaves; that made him look otherworldly, and oddly more appealing to the eye than many of the ladies of the court. But Thor was not about to verbalize this; as he hadn't verbalized that thought, when he previously pondered over it beforehand.

Quickly he crossed the distance between them and jerked Loki to his feet by the silver fastenings, a serpent and wolf, on the front of his mantle. Loki could do little to deter him; he knew otherwise to try and bodily extract himself from Thor's grip. Magic, however, was still a very real possibility.

"For your superior intellect and rationale, it appears that you've lost your horse, brother!" Thor mocked and was pleased by the fury that rushed so apparently across Loki's face.

"I wonder who is to be blame for that!"

"Your own clumsiness, of course; no less, your inability to keep your insults to yourself,"

"Oh, have I wounded your pride, brother mine?" Loki retorted archly, before he shoved Thor away. "Mayhap, you should have considered your pride was bound to be wounded when you first left the palace doors!"

"And you so wisely advised me otherwise?"

"I imagined there would be little game; I hadn't suspected how barren the wood would be. Of course, I have tried to persuade you to return to the palace every moment that we've been out here. Or have you forgotten that, Thor?" Loki sneered at him, which only spurred a negative reaction from Thor in response.

Thor struck Loki across the face with an open palm; loud enough to be heard across the wood and powerful enough to be felt across his gloved palm. Loki recoiled, before his own hand came to rest at his red cheek; where the hit had struck him so readily.

"Barbaric as you always are-" Loki yelped, as Thor struck him across the other cheek; which caused an immediate response in turn.

Within moments, Thor found himself locked in a physical struggle with his brother. Fists swung and connected, while booted feet kicked shins and ankles and knees. It was an ambitious tousle that hadn't taken place in centuries; Loki preferred magic and trickery, compared to physicality; but that didn't make him any less a worthy opponent.

Where Thor excelled in strength, Loki excelled in swiftness. So they were evenly matched in that respect; they both had the upper-hand at one point or another. Loki, when he slithered away from Thor's iron-clad grip, and elbowed him rather cruelly in the ribs. Then Thor, when he pummeled Loki in the belly with his fist; which caused Loki to double over and moan pathetically thereafter.

The tousle lasted no longer than that; Thor made good use of his advantage, and kicked Loki's feet out from underneath him and sent him sprawling gracelessly to the hardened earth. His brother made another pained noise, as if the air had been ripped unexpectedly from his lungs; before he rolled onto his belly in means of recovery.

Yet the fight sung in Thor's blood still; he felt a surge of disquiet and anger well up in him. Were he to be honest with himself, there was also something else to it as well; something that one should not feel for their own blood. But the emotions were much too strong for him to ignore any longer.

It became an all-encompassing sort of sensation; hungry and ready to leap outside of him and become a tragic reality. Thor knew better than to indulge in such primal needs; needs that were much too taboo to give any thought to, beyond an initial split-second fantasy. A shadow of an idea that fleeted away when he regained his senses again.

Even if he hoped to restrain himself, he could not; his carnal instinct kicked in, and dictated his abrupt actions soon thereafter. He dropped to the hardened ground, before he reached for Loki, and roughly flipped him flat onto his back.

His brother groaned, but made no move to escape him; even as Thor climbed up Loki's body and straddled him, and leaned inward until they were practically nose to nose. They shared the same breath, as they shared so many things. Secrets, victories, and losses; they had through much, forever companions and comrades at arms and Thor intended to endanger it wholly.

"You brute," Loki narrowed his eyes, perhaps calculating a way to use magic to turn the tide in his favor. "I haven't any need to see every detail of your face. Even if your vanity rivals mine,"

The insult provoked no ire on Thor's behalf; nor did it cause him to rumble with laughter. His mind was elsewhere; as he studied his beloved brother's sharp but subtly feminine features. Loki was chiseled marble; his hair the color of raven wings and his eyes were alit with never-ending mischief and shadowed with ill-intent. Bards could write endless ballads of Loki's beauty and yet they simply couldn't capture it properly no matter how hard they tried.

Ill-advised as it may have been, Thor permitted himself to indulge in his carnal desires. The provocations of the past days hadn't truly been for lack of game now that he reflected upon it; rather they had been lent to his cowardice. The mighty Thor had always taken what had caught his fancy, may it be treasures or maidens; but he had been much too docile when it came to his very brother.

Societal restrictions had deterred him for centuries. He had feigned disinterest in the way Loki grew into the willowy and quick-witted individual that he had inevitably become. Lady Sif had been meant to be the object of his desires; a valiant heroine whom stood side-by-side with him, and fought with heart and might. Yet Loki was here beneath him and smelled of winter and fallen leaves, and breathed his very essence in.

Intoxicated by such closeness, Thor pressed his mouth to his beloved brother's. Loki's lips were cool but smooth and plush; mischievous and venomous too. They felt and tasted more sinuous than any lady's from jeweled royalty to honeyed whore. Loki tasted of magic and familiarity and love; oh so much love!

As he drew away in hope for the chilly air to fill his lungs, Thor observed Loki closely. He did not know what he expected to see, but he knew what he hoped to gaze down upon. His many wishes, his forbidden hopes were etched openly onto Loki's face. His narrow-eyed look had been reduced to primal hunger; an expression that only made its presence known on blood-soaked battlefields and when mischief was afoot.

Loki's hands reached for him and cradled his numb cheeks; before he was guided back to his lips. They kissed slowly almost carefully; perhaps they were worried the illusion would break, that the other party would come to their senses. Thor worried that he had fallen from his steed and had become concussed, and this was the product of his sickened mind; except he knew better as the kiss deepened slowly but surely.

Hesitation gradually evolved into passion. His mouth opened and his tongue sought entrance in between Loki's lips; which he was readily permitted. Loki's familiar and sharp tongue met his, bringing forth fiery pleasure that knew no bounds. It ravaged Thor from head to toe and kept the chilly climate at bay.

Even as air became a necessity, Thor disregarded it for as long as he could. He delved endlessly into his brother's unique taste of ale and clover and exotic spices that spanned the nine realms. He tasted and coveted, and drank every soft sigh that Loki made in approval to his ministrations.

Thor knew his prowess was legendary. Many loose-lipped ladies of the court had praised his abilities extensively. They had spoken of his endless knowledge in which he knew how to please them, and they were especially complimentary to his manhood; a fact that Loki had brought up only moments previously.

As he withdrew from his brother's pliant mouth, Thor studied Loki's face appreciation. His hollowed cheeks had turned a ruddy color and his oftentimes hateful mouth was open and swollen and ready to please; a testament to his skills.

"You've granted me a great service, brother mine." Loki laughed, although humor didn't color his tone. "But the questions remains – will you grant me the greatest service of all?"

"You are devious."

"Honest, more like it."

"You are far from honest, Loki. Your lies tell lies and those tell even more."

"Honesty and lies are extraordinarily similar, you poor beast." Loki touched his lips to Thor's once more. "Now show me your truth, Thor. What have you harbored for me?"

Primal was the only word that Thor believed described how he felt in that moment. He set aside his reservations and sound thought, and moved with clumsy speed to divest Loki of his breeches. His hands were far larger, calloused, and inelegant compared to his brother's; considering they spent considerable time wrapped around Mjölnir than on dainty laces that knotted Loki's breeches closed.

When he was certain his bad temperament would rear its ugly head, Thor managed to unlace those damned bits of leather and exposed an already impressive sight. The crown of Loki's growing length poked out for the confines of his breeches, a mockery to everything decent and good.

The very sight of it caused a painful ache to grow in Thor's loins too. He had already been stimulated by the taste of his brother's lips, and now he found his need to be certain and real. There wasn't any trickery in Loki's response to him; they both appeared to harbor unspeakable desire for one another.

"Will you have me on the frost hardened ground, Thor?" Loki lifted his hips; as Thor violently tore down his breeches to expose Loki's full glory.

Many times Thor had gazed upon Loki in the nude. They oftentimes shared the royal baths, washed themselves in streams, rivers, and lakes; but he hadn't seen him aroused before. He hadn't been permitted to see how Loki's length swelled and thickened with blood, and how it stood proudly and large against his stomach.

The pale sunlight only enhanced Loki's dark beauty. His flesh was translucent, while his length blush colored; the blacks, greens, and gold of his customary ensemble only emphasized his lightness further.

"I'll take you here, yes." Thor managed to articulate, once he recollected his wits. "Elsewhere I will have you too."

"Shall I be your spoils from this hunt of yours? Will you mount me on your wall, and retell how you'd overwhelmed me to your friends?"

"Do you take me for a fool?"

"Yes," Loki whispered as his gloved hand reached between his thighs, and took himself into possession. "You are a fool; a reckless and childish fool whom I've yearned for and dreamt of for centuries. My golden fool, my future king, my brother,"

Thor watched, entranced, as Loki stroked his sex to full arousal. Pearls of wetness formed at the tip and tempted Thor to bend his head to lick him clean. Yet he did not; he could only stare and feel his manhood extend and thrum in want. No matter his many ventures that past or were yet to come, he knew they would pale in comparison to this one.

His hand slipped underneath his many layers to fondle himself; timing his movements to mimic Loki's own. It wasn't very satisfactory, though; he soon ceased and one-handedly forced open his own breeches without any trouble as he had experienced with Loki's. Within moments, he freed his engorged member that desperately wanted to be encased in the warmth his brother undoubtedly possessed; despite his body temperature being so much lower than it should have been.

"Take me, brother; use me as you please." Loki arched his back, presenting himself to be devoured.

"What of decency?"

"Decency be damned; I crave for you and you for me. Don't deny us any longer, brother mine."

"You tempt me so, Loki." Thor sat back onto his haunches, taking hold of one of Loki's legs. He unknotted the intricately tied laces of his boot, before he pulled it off, and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

The soft plod of the boot hitting the ground and the whinny of his steed were oddly amplified currently. He felt aware of everything, although Loki's presence was the center of his attention; in fact, Loki could have possibly been the center of all nine realms as far as Thor was concerned.

Hurriedly, Thor worked to help Loki remove his leg from its leather confines. Once the deed was successfully accomplished, he took his heavy length into his hand and stroked it until he groaned in pleasure. He wetted himself with the moisture that collected at the crown of his sex, and was pleased to see Loki spread open his legs and graze his fingers between his roundly and pale cheeks.

Despite still being mostly clothed, Loki was exposed enough for their coupling. They were ill-prepared for it but they would make do. Or perhaps Loki would use his sorcery to accommodate them better; although Thor knew nothing of magic and how well-versed his brother truly was in the art.

"Show me your kingly cock." Loki gasped, as he pushed two fingers inside of himself.

"You shame us both." Thor bit back a carnal noise, but shifted his mantle to expose himself both to the elements and Loki's hungry eyes.

"The maidens do not lie, thank the Norns. You are ample and plentiful and you will fill me as I wished to be filled; as I always wanted to be filled, brother mine."

"Use your magic to wet yourself; I intend on having you now. Your wicked tongue has made me yearn for you even more."

"O-Oh, as it should." Loki's hips stuttered upwards in visible pleasure, which was truly a sight to behold.

For several moments, Thor enjoyed the sight of Loki opening himself to him. His fingers pushed inward and stretched and prodded, until Thor thought he would go mad from the sight. His member yearned to finally take Loki after depriving himself of such forbidden delights that were rightfully his. He was destined to be king and a king deserved his spoils no matter how taboo they happened to be.

Slowly, Loki slipped both fingers from inside himself and laid his hand onto his cheek; only to reach down with his other hand to bare himself fully for Thor's consideration. He was obscenely exposed; presenting himself as what he was – a swollen, red, quivering hole. The muscles contracted in fanfare, as if welcoming Thor to breach him and stretch him until he begged for mercy and cried for more.

Thor needn't any further persuasion. He circled his fingers around the base of his length, and pressed the tip to Loki's hole; which drew varying sounds of relief from the both of them. But that would not do, not when Loki was at his command; not when they could experience the love they harbored for one another like no two brothers should.

Wetness beaded and dribbled from Thor's member and onto Loki's hole; a lewd sight indeed, yet it was one that caused Loki's hips to roll and his eyes to darken in sinuous desires. Thor tapped the engorged crown of his member against Loki's fluttering muscles, and bit back a growl of utter possession at the look on his brother's face that was seemingly frozen in wanton offense.

"You will give what you want, Loki." Thor declared, as he pushed against Loki until his muscles gave way and permitted him entrance.

Loki's body welcomed his length's intrusion, as if it had waited for centuries to be taken by him. The muscle molded around him, warm and tight and wetted by magic. Thor pushed himself inch by inch into Loki until he was fully seated inside him; heavy and thick with arousal.

They basked in the sensation of being intimately connected, as they had never been before. While he bedded many maidens and warriors alike, Thor hadn't felt such a heady desire and fulfillment as he did at that very moment. Loki, his constant companion and ally and advisor, his brother, was now his lover and made him feel far more powerful than Mjölnir ever could.

The feel of Loki around him felt of love and adoration and affection; nothing feigned and disillusioned. Loki loved him irrefutably and he him. No matter their bickering and rare spars, they loved one another desperately and feverously and truly.

"Take me, Thor. Take every liberty with me; I am yours, always!" Loki threw his head back in a guttural sound that reverberated along Thor's hardened sex. "Please, I need you to pleasure me until I cannot speak or see or even hear! All I want is to feel my brother inside of me!"

Those honeyed words spurred Thor's hips backwards. He slipped halfway from that wonderful friction that Loki possessed; only to push back inside which sent shivers down his spine. Loki couldn't hide his pleasures either; his hands found refuge on his shoulders, and clung to the crimson of his mantle, as he repeated the natural motion over and over again.

His hips moved of their own accord, which suited Thor just fine. He found that he wanted nothing more than to surrender himself to Loki. He was intoxicated by his body; the way in which his insides clenched and trembled by his movements, and how his mischievous brother panted and clung to him like a harlot.

He had always wanted this. No one could compare to Loki; no one could match his beauty, his quick-wit, and the perfection of his body. Loki seemed to be molded to him; they fit well in every way, and their bodies were no different. His girth and length was fitted well into Loki; there was no discomfort to be had. They were one; different sides of the same coin.

"Yes, brother; take your pleasures from me!" Loki rolled his hips in tight circles. "Your cock is extraordinary; yes, I want your seed!"

Pleasures unknown rippled through Thor; they were intense and prolonged. His thrusts moved between controlled and wild, although he found that Loki's mayhem had infected him to the bone. He found that his body would not listen to him; it, instead, sought its completion already. His length ached in hope of relief, even though his self-control begged for more time still.

Mind and body combatted one another, yet body won in the end. Thor continued to move in uncoordinated thrusts; fucking into Loki as if he were the mindless beast that Loki so often called him. But they both were lost to their primal urges; they both wanted to reach that peak together.

Several mighty drives were all that it took. Thor roared as he was seized by his release; as his world minimized onto only pale flesh and dark hair and poisonous green eyes scrunched up in ecstasy. He spilled his seed deeply into Loki, in long and plentiful spurts that someone of his kingly status and godly title could boast of proudly.

He filled his brother until his body could hold no more. His seed spilled around his length and down the swell of Loki's bottom, and onto his mantle that had fanned out underneath him as he'd fallen from his steed. But Loki had yet to reach his end.

"Brother," Loki took his swollen sex into hand, manipulating himself with hurried strokes.

Thor watched in fascination as Loki touched himself, singularly focused on the task. His eyes closed and his head fell back, to expose the flawless expanse of his throat, as he tugged and squeezed and treated his member to intense pleasure. And then he too spilled his seed; thick ropes across his clothed belly and chest, which was a sight bound to sustain Thor for centuries on end.

Desperately, Thor sought out his brother's mouth. He drank every pant and mew from Loki's tongue; suckled and enjoyed each one, although his appetite had yet to be satiated. Now that he had a taste of Loki, he couldn't possibly get enough. He refused to go without; not now and certainly not ever.

They broke away from one another eventually. Breathing took precedent over their desires, but they slipped back into sharing closed mouth kisses whenever they could. Even when the hum of climax quieted to a dull drumbeat, Thor found it difficult to fully disengage from Loki. Yet he did precisely that anyway.

He slipped his softened length from Loki, pushing back onto his knees. He then tucked himself back into his breeches and knotted the laces snugly. As he straightened himself to his former state, Loki waved a lazy hand; casting a spell that undoubtedly cleaned him on the inside and out; which was a trick that Thor only wished he possessed.

"We shall keep this between only us." Thor stood; in order to retrieve the boot he had tossed aside in his fervor. "I know you believe in privacy, but your deviousness oftentimes knows no bounds."

"Would I honestly put myself into harm's way, Thor?" Loki asked, as he slid his leg into his breeches and pulled them up to hide flaccid member. "We may have our disagreements, but more oft than not we agree on many things. Anonymity and secrecy is imperative in this case, most certainly."

Thor returned to Loki's side, offering him his boot; which his brother gladly took and pulled on. They did not speak any other words; there was nothing to say. Desire had driven them into one another's embrace, and it was certain to do so time and time again. And while Thor didn't feel any guilt at the moment, he suspected the gravity of his choice would weigh heavily upon him soon enough.

They still had plenty of ground to cover to return to the royal city, especially if they intended to make it there by nightfall. Now that his frustrations had been put to bed, Thor knew Loki was correct in his assessment – they would find no game so late in the season; even if it wounded his pride to admit it to himself.

Just as he was about to suggest they return, the death throes of some feeble-minded beast split through the silence that had settled in between them; Thor shifted his gaze to see Loki crouched down with his arm extended, where he loosed a dagger into a rotund and homely boar several feet away.

The blade had been buried into the boar's throat; wobbling haphazardly in its fatty folds, and summoning black-red blood from the wound. The creature staggered one step, two, three, and then four; before it collapsed to the ground with a mighty thud. It was dead by the time, Thor moved to its side; flabbergasted by its sudden appearance. Even his steed hadn't been none the wiser to its presence.

"There," Loki announced smugly, as he stood from his crouch with a regal shake of the head. "Your pride shall remain intact, brother mine; lover mine."

"Was this trickery?"

"No, I cannot say it was. But you would not believe the truth from me, would you?"

"Your truth not my truth, you mean."

"My truth is my truth. Now see to your game, I have my horse to find." Loki walked away with a confidence in his step, seemingly unaffected by being taken roughly on the cold hard ground.

Thor eyed Loki's retreating figure suspiciously. Mayhap Loki had lured the boar out by some trickery or some other nefarious means. The Norns only knew the extent of Loki's skills, and even then they might have underestimated him still. Yet that was one of Loki's many appeals; it had always been one, even they were boys.

Certainly there was no harm in returning with an impressive beast such as this one to court. No one needed to know by what means he had acquired it; which would have normally bothered him, had he not gotten something far more invaluable than game and pride. He had gotten to fulfill one of his darkest fantasies and he imagined it could evolve into so much more if Loki would have him. And that mattered so much more than his pride and game alike.