“He's my brother!”
The denial was barely past Loki's lips when the Grandmaster's demeanour changed and Loki suppressed a wince. As someone who prided himself on being unpredictable, he was finding it extremely tiresome to be at the beck and call of this man, as it was.
“Brothersss,” Grandmaster said, prolonging the s into a drawn out hiss. Before him, Thor was still scowling.
So it has only been moments for Thor since everything happened. Loki would enjoy it, the knowledge that he already had a place here, had set foundations for new endeavours while his brother was clearly inconvenienced and lost, if it weren't for the fact that he was humiliatingly happy to see Thor's face.
And that he was not looking forward to the inevitable fall out. Unlike Loki, Thor didn't have weeks to come to terms with Odin's death.
Or with Loki's actions.
Next to Grandmaster, Topaz smiled, which was always a problem.
“Now, now, um, Loki,” Grandmaster said, fingers twitching in Loki's general direction as they, unfortunately, have been doing quite a lot in the past days. “This brother of yours. Does he perform well?”
Loki shot Thor a grin. A new contender for the famed champion, perhaps? “Quite well. He's a little... barbaric, with not much finesse to him, but his power is great.”
“Ah!” Loki almost jumped at the delighted cry the Grandmaster let out. “Excellent, excellent... and this suits you quite well, I assume? You, with your... how shall I put it.”
“My...” Loki prompted, smiling indulgently.
“Tastes,” the Grandmaster decided finally, nodding to Topaz. “Your tastes. Your barbaric, strong brother. Is he to your tastes?”
Stomach flipping, Loki's eyes flicked to Thor, finding him staring at Loki with calm fury. In an expression he didn't have cause to wear often, the tilt of his eyebrows said you fucking idiot.
Looking back at the manically grinning Grandmaster, Loki couldn't fault him for that.
He didn't go down without a fight.
That was what he had to say for himself when all was said and done and he and Thor were gliding towards unknown parts of the tower in matching chairs, with matching obedience discs stuck to their necks.
“Gained his favour, huh?” Thor said flatly next to him.
Restrained and guarded, they were whisked up to the upper levels of the floor where Loki had yet to gain access. The luxury, as tacky as it was, was even more pronounced here. The lights were dim yet playing in all colours and there were fewer windows.
“He's going to make us fuck,” Thor said flatly as they arrived at their destination – a large, lavish suite with an obvious over-abundance of sofas and recliners.
“Yes, he was quite clear about that.”
And he had been, actually calmly asking Loki if they had done it before, and if he would be willing to do it for an audience as well.
It had only been after Loki had emphatically refused that his status had changed.
“This is,” Thor went on, his voice jumping to heights with something like hysteria. Loki did not enjoy hearing that. “This is a lovely day for family. You're alive. Father is dead. I have a sister. I'm about to fuck my brother.”
Fuck. With all this mess, Loki almost forgot his initial apprehension about the difference in time passing for the two of them.
Judging that his chances were overall better if Thor was somewhat in possession of his faculties, Loki attempted to soothe him.
“Don't think about it like that. It's merely... bodies. Bodily functions. We'll be fine. Think of someone else, so will I and then...”
It sounded weak even to his own ears and Thor turned away, leaving Loki with the words hanging in the air, forcing him to acknowledge them as well. Perhaps Thor wouldn't be the only one needing calming down.
What would the Grandmaster demand of them? Loki knew him well enough to know that he liked to be in control of all his little games. Spontaneity was something he only liked rare spoonfuls of.
Thor and he were parked in the middle of a large lounge, yet empty, but that soon changed. The doors opened and through them onlookers started to stream in. Loki recognized most of them and absurdly, that was the fact that brought heat to his cheeks. This was a mismatched band of aliens, rejects, no matter how bizarrely and expensively they dressed, none of them were someone whose opinion should matter to him, but at the same time he had spent the past several weeks cultivating alliances with them.
And now they were about to see him fall.
“Everyone, everyone, gather!” Grandmaster's affected voice flew in from somewhere behind them and Loki had to remind himself not to squirm and try to turn around. “This is quite unplanned, but all the more exciting for it! Some of you may know, this, um, Loki, our new friend. Well, today, Loki's brother arrived here!”
A smattering of applause. Loki watched as the members of the audience took their seats all around them, accepting the drinks handed out to them by ever present waiters.
“And as you may know, they come from a place called Assberg, where it is a great honour for siblings to please each other.”
Loki could almost physically feel the wave of violence coming off Thor. And, senselessly, he had to agree. It was one thing for the Grandmaster to be sick and twisted, it was another to pretend like this was their fault. Like it was something they wanted and was normal to them.
“And they agreed to show it to us. It's lovely, so lovely. A cultural treasure, right here!”
Shuffling his way forward, the Grandmaster finally came into Loki's line of vision. Placing a light hand on Loki's forearm, he leaned in.
“My dear, you have by now tasted the itty little bite of the disc. Force me to use it, ruin the spectacle, do as you wish. Tomorrow, there will be something else to be entertained by. But not for you. You will meet the melt stick, as will your brother. Make it good, my friend.”
He's not insane at all, Loki realized.
And felt real fear for the first time since he was strapped into the chair.
They – they being the Grandmaster and the audience eagerly nodding in response – decided to start with something light first. There would be more time for complicated games after Thor and Loki were properly dressed and prepared (there was more than one complaint as to the state of Thor's appearance). So, for now, Loki found himself out of his chair, kneeling at his brother's feet, about to suck his dick.
Thor, not having received the same briefing that Loki had, was staring down at him. Loki returned his gaze, gingerly placing his hands on top of Thor's leather clad thighs. He tried to give a little nod, convey something so that Thor would just shut up and let Loki do his thing.
His thing. Yes. Loki's gaze dropped to Thor's crotch.
Loki cleared his throat, then looked to the side, smiling. “Thank you, Grandmaster, for letting us show you how we honour each other on our homeland.”
The muscles in Thor's thighs bunched violently underneath Loki's palms and he had to bite down on a wince. He squeezed Thor in reply. I don't like it either, idiot.
But his words have brought yet more excitement to the room and he supposed that was the best he could hope for as he reached to undo Thor's belt. The scent of leather was strong this up close. He focused on that. Belt undone and the front of his trousers open, Thor was on display to everyone to the room, Loki first and foremost. Large, and not aroused.
Think of something else. Of someone else.
His thought was directed more at Thor than at himself.
He was fine. He licked his own thumb, expressively so, eyes flicking to the audience once more, before reaching out to take Thor in his hand, pressing the wet pad of his thumb to the soft head, circling. A soft thud that could only be Thor dropping his head back against his chair urged Loki on and he tightened his grip slightly, working the foreskin down. Within the span of several tentative strokes, Thor was already hardening and Loki's grip on him became much easier to maintain.
It also all became that much more real. The psychedelic shaped, cool tiles under his knees. The pulsing itch of the obedience disc on his throat; knowing that should he fight, it would incapacitate him long enough for Topaz's weapon to melt the skin off his body and his flesh off his bones.
Knowing that the same would await Thor.
Thor hadn't killed him on the spot when he had found him out. Thor had told him he had mourned him. Thor had called them us when he had spoken to Odin.
Loki supposed he owed it to him to make this happen. To get them both out of here alive, no matter the cost. And later absolve them both of guilt with a quip, claiming that he had cast an illusion of a handsome stranger over Thor to make it bearable.
“This is for not smashing my face in with Mjolnir, brother,” Loki murmured just before his lips closed around the tip of Thor's cock.
It was... just like sucking a cock, albeit a very large one. It was what was around it that bothered Loki; the clear view he had of Thor's clothes, the familiar sound of Thor's harsh breathing, even though he usually only heard that in battle; whether they were on the same or opposite sides of it hardly mattered.
His mouth was filled with taste, salty and earthy, and Loki tried to tell himself that all the dicks he'd tasted were just about like this, but there was an edge to it. A difference he quite feared he would be conscious of for the rest of his life.
Shaking the thoughts off, he adjusted the grip he had on Thor's length and doubled, tripled the efforts of his mouth. Tongue flicking, his lips tightened around the shaft. He did everything he could think of to reach the desirable ending as rapidly as possible while still putting up a good show.
Apparently, he was the only one.
Thor jerked, accidentally pushing deeper into Loki's mouth than he would have liked, causing a brief gag. Loki looked up through watering eyes to see what had brought it on. It was the Grandmaster, his hand deceptively lightly placed on top of Thor's arm.
“Open your eyes, would you. Such a pretty sight your brother makes. You wouldn't want to miss a second.”
Curse that crazy bastard. But Loki squeezed Thor's thigh in encouragement anyway. Looking up, he could see why they've been interrupted. Thor's eyes were shut, a grimace was firmly stuck on his face.
It pissed Loki off. Here he was, trying to put on the best damned show, trying to save their asses and Thor couldn't even bother to play along.
Well. He had an unprecedented option to demonstrate his displeasure to Thor.
He still needed Thor's cock to work to get them out of this.
But it seemed to convey the message well, Thor's hiss loud in the hushed, excited room and, best of all, his attention was finally all on Loki. And it held there.
Gratified, Loki returned to his task.
Soon enough, it became a routine motion, the cooperation of his hand and mouth flawless, working towards an ending. Thor never softened and, if the one or two daring glances that Loki shot up were accurate, after the Grandmaster's warning he never looked away either.
He could feel it, the moment when Thor was lost, his cock straining harder than before in Loki's mouth, a fresh spill of pre-come tasting salty on his tongue. This was going to be over soon and then they would have time to regroup and plan. An embarrassing slurp jolted Loki out of his thoughts and he noticed how messy he was being, gagging all over his brother's cock, his hand working wetly all over the length that he couldn't fit into his mouth.
It still beat death by the melt stick. Loki knew that. Thor knew that, surely. He swept his tongue up and tightened his hand and Thor bucked underneath him, cock stiffening and pulsing, spilling into Loki's mouth.
Not knowing what else to do, Loki swallowed in panic at first, then pulled away as it suddenly struck it that it might be better to show proof. Giving Thor a couple more careful strokes, he watched with blank fascination as more white spend pulsed from Thor's slit.
The audience applauded.
This was why people sought sex to escape their troubles, Thor thought numbly when it was over. In that second or two, when bliss overcame every other sense, it all melted away.
Of course, the harsher was the return to reality.
He felt that now, the harsh reality, with his wet cock uncomfortably cooling against his thigh, stupidly exposed through the utilitarian undoing of his trousers.
In front of him, Loki was back on his feet, being congratulated by the mad man who made them do this. The only thing really comforting Thor in this situation was the glint in his brother's eyes as he regarded the Grandmaster. The indulgent smile on his lips – his red, wet lips – was nothing, a mere ruse. His eyes promised vengeance.
Watching mutely the deadly promise his brother was vowing, Thor had to wonder what would happen if Loki knew about Thor's true feelings. About what they did. About what Thor desired.
The obedience disc pinching him like a quiet reminder of his helplessness, he also had to wonder if he was soon to find out.