Work Header


Work Text:

Thor finds Loki in the garden. He’s lying flat on his back, his hair spilling out around his face and his knees drawn up. The sun shimmers on his pale skin, and Thor pauses, just out of sight, so he can admire Loki.

Loki is, of course, beautiful. It would not do for Thor’s brother to be anything but perfection, but Loki has a strange sort of beauty. His eyes are closed now, but Thor knows that when he opens them, they will be as sharp as sapphires, a flickering green-blue that seems cut from stone. He is all angles, narrow hips and sharp cheekbones that stand out among Asgard’s warriors. There have been whispers, talk of how he is more like Frigga than a son ought to be, but among those whispers there is always awe. His brother does not lack for bed partners, that Thor knows, in a half conscious way, never looking the fact quite in the face.

Thor steps out from behind a tree, and Loki’s eyes flutter open. His mouth curves in a slight smile, and he pats the ground next to him with a lazy wave of his hand. Thor makes his way over, the grass warm under his bare feet. He flops down next to Loki, and his brother rests a hand on his thigh.

“What brings you out here, when there is training to be done?” Loki asks, his voice slow and melodious. His eyes have slipped closed again, and his hand is heavy on Thor’s thigh.

“I could ask the same of you,” Thor smiles down at him. He likes his brother like this, lazy and relaxed, all his sharp edges worn away by the soft light filtering down through the leaves above them.

“I have finished my studies for the day,” Loki grins, “And I have no desire to come spar with you and our friends after what happened yesterday.”

Thor grimaces. Fandral and Loki had gotten into a bit of a… disagreement. It had resulted in Loki washing blood from his hair for an hour and Fandral visiting the healers to fix up a deep gash across his cheekbone, and Thor still can’t quite understand what the argument was about. When he asked Fandral, the man had shrugged, telling Thor he doesn’t want to know. Loki hadn’t said anything, only cursed Thor for interrupting his bath and flicked water at Thor until he had left.

“You cannot be angry at him forever, Loki. He is your companion, your friend.”

Loki laughs, and the sound chimes like silver bells in the still air of the garden. Thor has always liked Loki’s laugh, has always liked how it seems to hang in the air even after Loki’s lips have slipped shut. He smiles down at Loki, even though his brother’s eyes are closed.

“I am serious. Whatever you and he fought about, it cannot be that important.”

“He didn’t tell you?” A crease forms in Loki’s forehead. His lips purse and he rolls on his side to face Thor.

“He muttered something incomprehensible, then told me it would not please me to know.”

Loki snorts. He props himself up on one arm, tracing little circles in the grass next to Thor’s knee with one finger. For long moments he lies there, his wrist draped over Thor’s thigh and his fingers just barely brushing the ground. Thor tips his head back a little. The sun beats down on the back of his neck, but Thor hardly notices.

“For once, I have to agree with him.” Loki’s nose wrinkles up and Thor can see his run his tongue over his teeth. His distaste seems short-lived, though, because he flops back on to his back and smiles up at Thor.

There are very few moments like this. Thor spends his days training, learning about the varied cultures across the nine realms, and studying Asgard’s history. He and Loki see each other only in the sparring ring and after the night’s feast is over now. They ride out on hunts together, of course, and to battle, but this calm companionship is rare. Thor lets himself fall back onto the grass to lie next to Loki, looking up at the blue sky.

Loki’s hand creeps back over, and Thor takes it without a pause. It’s cool to the touch. He smiles into the sky, for once glad that there are no clouds. The world has fallen away, and they are alone in a haze of golden light. The smell of grass fills Thor up, the sweet scent of flowers floating from somewhere and a light wind playing across their faces. Beside him, Loki breathes steadily, and Thor lets his own chest rise in concert with his brother’s.

He came out here to convince Loki to come back and make amends with Fandral, but now that he’s here, it seems unimportant. All that matters is this single glimmering glade and Loki beside him, silent as he almost never is. All that matters is holding onto the ease and the calm that Thor usually has so much trouble finding. His heart beats slowly, and he fancies he can hear Loki’s as well, beating in concert with his.

Thor glances sideways, and finds Loki looking straight back at him. For a single instant, their eyes meet. Thor watches the stormy sea that always roils in his brother's eyes turn to smooth glass, the blue-green sparkling in the sunlight. He takes a deep breath, but Loki hisses between his teeth, shushing him, and Thor nods minutely. They can speak later.


Thor had felt almost lightheaded after he and Loki had come in from the garden. They hadn’t made it to the training grounds after all, but Thor felt oddly at peace with that, as though what they had shared, simply lying on the green grass, was far more important. Now he settles back against the carved wood of his chair at the high table, as satisfied as if he had spent the day hard at work.

Fandral is on his right and the ambassador from Vanaheim on his left, with Loki and Sif across from them and Hogan and Volstagg just down the table. The ambassador is deep in conversation with Odin, leaving them to themselves. Fandral has been complaining that Thor was not at training this afternoon.

“You don’t know how lonely it is without you,” Fandral claps a hand on Thor’s shoulder, and Thor grins at him.

“Flatterer,” he says, taking a deep drink of mead. Fandral laughs.

“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true,” Fandral tells him, squeezing his shoulder.

Thor laughs too, but only until he looks up from his cup and catches Loki’s expression. Loki is staring at Fandral, his eyes narrowed and his lip caught between his teeth. Thor sighs heavily. He takes a long swig of his mead, letting its warmth slide down his throat and then pool in his belly. Fandral’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, but Thor can’t shake him off, not without offending his friend.

“So what was so important that you couldn’t spend time with your greatest friends?” Fandral asks, his fingers running down Thor’s arm before he takes his hand back and starts to work on his plate again.

Thor’s arm tingles where Fandral's fingers have just been. He looks down at his plate, wondering what his friend is playing at, but Sif interrupts before he can think about it for too long.

“What were you two doing? It’s not like you to miss a day of training.”

Loki shrugs. His eyes dart to Fandral before he answers.

“Spending time together, as all brothers should.”
“I would think you spent enough time together. You’ve known each other what, a thousand years?” Fandral asks, not looking at Loki. His fingers brush over his lips as he wipes away some tiny crumb, lingering a little and tracing the bow.

“Give or take a hundred. Though I’ve known you as long, Fandral,” Thor grunts.

“Of course,” Fandral demurs.

Thor sighs again, taking another bite of boar. There is something here which floats just out of reach, some game Fandral and Loki are playing that he cannot quite understand. He looks at Sif helplessly, hoping for an answer, but she widens her eyes as though he should already know. Thor takes another bite of boar, not really noticing the taste. Fandral licks juice from his fingers.

“That didn’t really answer the question,” Sif murmurs.

“What question would that be?” Loki asks. He grabs an apple, tossing it and catching it with one hand. A knife appears from nowhere between his fingers, small and gleaming in the firelight. Loki slices the apple quickly, dividing it into perfect sixths. He slips one into his mouth, and Thor watches as Loki licks the juice from his lips. Loki has always been fond of sweets.

“What you and Thor spent all afternoon doing,” Sif says.

Loki holds out a section of apple across the table. Thor takes it carefully, not wanting to cover his hands with juice. For a moment, their fingers touch. Just as in the garden, earlier, Thor wants to sigh in contentment, wants to take Loki’s hand and hold it in his. He settles for stroking a finger across Loki’s palm. Loki gives him one of those secret smiles that he saves only for Thor.

“Do not worry, Lady Sif. No great plans were made in your absence. We merely lay at our ease in the gardens,” Thor says.

Sif raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Fandral, however, claps an arm around Thor’s shoulders, his hand making its way to rest on the back of Thor’s neck.

“I did not know you enjoyed such pursuits now, Thor. You and I should go together. I am awfully fond of the gardens.”

“He likes to bring his maidens there,” Volstagg chimes in with a stage whisper.

Fandral pulls his hand away from Thor quickly, glaring at Volstagg.

“And what if I do? Should Thor and I not go walking there at our ease as well?”

Volstagg laughs, throwing up his hands. They glimmer with the grease of a turkey he has been demolishing, but his eyes gleam as sharp as ever.

“It matters not. I appreciate your offer, Fandral, but the gardens hold little excitement for me in themselves,” Thor says. He wonders if he should just have attended training without Loki. There is an odd air about the table tonight. It is as though Loki has gained a win in some contest with Fandral that all know of but Thor himself.

He glances at Hogun, hoping his friend has something to say, but, as always, the other man remains silent. Thor takes another drink instead.

“How went your training today?” Loki asks absently, breaking the silence that had stretched just a moment too long. “Did the lady best you again, Fandral?”

Suddenly, Fandral is on his feet, his hands planted on the table. He leans across, glaring at Loki. Loki stands gracefully, unfolding out of his chair. He glances at Thor, smirking, and then turns back to Fandral, smirk turning to a sweet smile.

“I know,” Loki murmurs. “Without Thor there, I’m sure you didn’t have as much incentive to try your best.

“Watch your tongue,” Fandral snarls, his pretty face contorting. “Without Thor there, you didn't even come.”

Loki blushes, his fair cheeks washing with color, and he reaches out across the table. He brushes a lock of hair out of Fandral’s face, almost gentle.

“Oh Fandral,” he whispers, just loud enough for their small part of the table to hear. “Jealousy does not become you.”

Thor chokes on his mead. He spits into his cup as they all turn to stare at him. The taste is sour on his tongue now, tinged with the bitterness of realization. Fandral and Loki both look as though they are about to say something, but now that Thor has grasped what is happening, that is the last thing he wants.

“Enough squabbling like children,” he growls. “Fandral, we will talk of this later. Loki, with me, now.”

He gets up, letting his chair crash to the ground and turning from the table without a backward glance. He can hear Sif muttering something to Volstagg and Hogun as he walks away, but he doesn’t turn back, not even to see if Loki is following.


Thor makes his way to his rooms without a single glance behind himself. When he reaches the door, he turns, and finds Loki on his heels.

“Inside,” he snaps. Loki sweeps into the room in a cloud of pine scent and incense, standing just beyond the doorway.

“Why must you wind them up so?” Thor asks, throwing himself down onto the couch in front of the fire. “You know you have my attention before all others.”

“Fandral wants more than your attention,” Loki says. He makes his way to stand at the mantlepiece, idly fingering a trinket set on one end.

“And what is that to you, Loki? You have my love afore all others as well. What threat does he bear?” Thor growls.

“He would have it differently.”

The trinket rattles in the mantle, and for the first time Thor notices that Loki’s hands are trembling. Thor feels his own heart start to beat faster, and he pats the spot next to him.

“Sit by me, brother. Tell me what has you so afraid.”

“I am not afraid,” Loki says, but he comes and sits beside Thor. There is a scant foot of space between them, and this close Thor can see that more than Loki’s hands are shaking. His whole body seems to vibrate, his calm facade stripped away by something too powerful for even Loki to control. Thor takes one of his hands, and it’s cool to the touch.

“I will not abandon you. You are my brother. There are no others that can make that claim.”

Loki’s throat bobs, and his hand trembles in Thor’s.

“There are other claims in the world. That of a companion... or a lover.”

“I have many companions and I have had many lovers. None have caused you this distress,” Thor says. He can feel himself hurtling towards something that has lurked just out of sight for years, something so great and powerful that he has always stayed one step beyond its reach.

“Never the two together, though. Your companions keep you safe on the battlefield and your lovers come and go as quickly as the seasons.” Loki’s voice is small, smaller than Thor can ever remember it being.

“And it worries you that Fandral could become both? You, who can claim companionship and brotherhood?” Thor’s face flushes too.


“Why, Loki?” The question rips out of him before he can stop it. His hand tightens on Loki’s until he can feel the bones in Loki’s fingers.

“You truly will make me say it?” Loki asks. He leans in, and Thor’s breath catches in his throat. “You truly do not know?”

“Yes,” Thor breathes, and he doesn’t know whether it is in answer to Loki’s question, or to some other, unspoken one.

The first brush of Loki’s lips against his is so soft that Thor wonders if he has imagined it. Loki’s lips caress his, the smell of pine and winter filling him up. Thor gasps against them.

“Is that answer enough?” Loki asks, his eyes burning and his hand trembling in Thor’s.

Thor laughs. A knot in his chest has come undone, one he never knew existed before. His whole body feels lighter, as though his bones have grown hollow, his muscles turned to light, and the only thing that keeps him together is the thin shell of his mortal being. He smiles so brightly at Loki that he wonders if his face will split in two.

“I believe I need another answer. A few more, in fact.”

Loki’s eyes go wide, his shoulders tending and his hand clenching frantically at Thor’s.

“You speak truly, brother?”

“I have no cause to lie to you.” Thor raises his free hand to cup Loki’s cheek, tangling his fingers in Loki’s long hair. “You have opened up your heart to me. Why should I not do the same in return?”

Loki seems past speech, his eyes too wide to hide his thoughts as they usually do. Instead, he nuzzles into Thor’s wrist. He presses a kiss into Thor’s skin, and it leaves behind a glow of seidr that slowly dissipates. Thor does not have time to wonder what spell Loki has wrought, though, because Loki’s lips are on his.

The kiss seems to go on forever. At first, Thor is gentle, thinking that Loki is some wild thing that must be gentled. But Loki presses into him, his lips and tongue searching for more, and Thor has to give in. He opens his mouth and Loki’s tongue slips inside, licking and tracing the sharp edges of his teeth. Thor groans. A single kiss has never undone him this much, never set his whole body on fire like this.

Loki answers his groan with a whimper. His hands find Thor’s shoulders, and they’re a sweet weight. Thor wraps his hand more tightly in Loki’s hair, pulling slightly, and Loki moans again.

“You like that, brother mine?” Thor whispers against his lips.

Loki doesn’t answer. Instead he pulls Thor towards him, laying back on the couch. Thor follows willingly enough, settling against Loki’s body. They have been here often enough while sparring, Thor’s body blanketing Loki’s, Loki’s legs tangling with his. But now, Thor’s thighs tremble and his chest aches for more.

He kisses Loki again, and this time there is no softness to his touch. He bites at Loki’s mouth, his hands wrenching Loki’s head back so he can move down to Loki’s pale throat. Loki arches up to meet him.

“Just like that. I am no fair son of summer who you must be careful not to break. I am your equal, Thor. Treat me as such.”

Loki’s words send a spasm of heat through him, and Thor’s cock thickens between them. Loki is already hard, and their hips rock together. The pressure is sweet enough, but Thor cannot help but wonder what it would feel like without the layers of fabric that separate them.

The moment the thought comes to him, their clothing becomes unbearable. He pulls Loki up off the couch, his hands flying frantically over Loki’s sides.

Loki laughs, and is naked with a single wave of his hand. He pulls away from Thor, leaving Thor cold and desperate. Then he turns, almost to the inner door before Thor can move. He pauses there, one hand pushing open the heavy oak that leads to Thor’s bedchamber.

“Well?” he asks. “Don’t tell me the great Thor is at a loss now that he sees me unclothed. It is not as though it is an unfamiliar sight.”

Thor shakes himself slightly. Loki is right. He has seen his brother naked more times than he can count, lain next to him in the sauna as they sweated away dirt and grime. But now, now that Loki is standing there ready to be touched and not seen, there is something new about his brother.

He lets his eyes trail down from where Loki looks over his shoulder. He traces the curves of muscle in Loki’s shoulders, the way Loki’s waist curves in with just a hint of softness at his sides. Thor takes in the way that the dimples at the base of Loki’s spine lead to his ass. It curves softly down to his taught thighs. Thor wonders at the thin scar that crosses around from near Loki’s hip to near the center of his thigh. It’s pale even against Loki’s skin, and Thor can’t remember where it comes from.

He stands up as well, loosening the straps of his armor and sending it clanging to the floor. He steps forward, pulling his tunic off. He hates even the few moments that he can’t see Loki. When his tunic falls to the floor, he’s close to Loki. Thor reaches out, catching Loki’s waist and pressing close to him. He runs his fingers across Loki’s chest, stroking at the scars that wind across his collarbones. These, he remembers. A snow cat had pounced high up in the mountains on Vanaheim, and Loki had taken the brunt of its first attack. Thor traces the twisted flesh before he bites softly at Loki’s shoulder, worrying it a bit to leave his own mark.

“It is not your body that has me at a loss,” he finally responds, when he has tasted Loki’s skin enough to be able to bear pulling away. “But rather the fact that I can touch it now.”

“You could always touch it,” Loki tells him, pulling away and slipping into Thor’s bedroom.

“Really?” Thor asks. “Always?”

“Always,” Loki answers, and Thor thinks that perhaps Loki answers some other question. But no matter what, he likes the answer. He follows Loki into the room, his leggings tight around his cock and his body aching for Loki.

Loki is laid out across the bed, propped up on one side. Thor takes a long moment to admire him. Loki’s cock is hard, and he cups it, pressing it to his belly as he looks at Thor, stroking the head. Thor groans. The air feels thick, and his head swims a little as he stalks towards Loki. He kneels on the bed, pushing Loki onto his back and spreading Loki’s legs. He can see the beginnings of the scar that wraps around Loki’s back, and he reaches out to brush his fingers against it.


“Hazard of training,” Loki tells him, before he can answer the question. Then he flexes his hips, pressing into Thor’s hands, one of his own wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly. Thor licks his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He grabs Loki’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his cock, pinning Loki to the bed. Loki growls, flexing his hips and pressing his cock against Thor’s.

One of his legs tangles around Thor’s, and suddenly Thor finds himself flat on his back on the bed, Loki grinning above him. He laughs, heat flaring in his belly as Loki presses him down. He leans in, biting at Thor’s chest and then running his hands down. Thor shivers as his trousers vanish, leaving him naked underneath Loki. He spreads his legs wider, letting Loki slip between them, and Loki digs his teeth in harder.

Thor grabs Loki’s ass, squeezing hard, and Loki moans. Thor's cock leaks a little as he rocks his hips against Loki’s. Then he wrenches Loki’s head back away from his chest with his free hand, and Loki moans desperately.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Loki whispers, his face flushing and his neck bared to Thor beneath him. “Do you want to feel me around you? Do you want to come inside me, join with me, Thor?”

Thor can hardly think, his whole body shaking. Loki’s voice is a shining thread in the haze of lust that fills him up. He nods, jerking at Loki’s hair and grinding their hips together.

“Or maybe,” Loki hisses, “you want me to fuck you. Maybe you want to feel me so deep that you can never think of anyone else. Maybe you want me to spill inside you, to give you everything I have, because you know you deserve it.”

Thor doesn’t know what he wants. He spreads his legs wider at the same time he slips a finger down to brush across Loki’s hole. He moans as he feels Loki shudder against him, and he strokes Loki’s ass again. Loki’s breath whispers against his throat, and suddenly his hole is slick under Thor’s fingers.

“For now,” Loki bites Thor’s throat. “This is what I need. Fuck me, Thor Odinson. Fill me up, make me your everything. Later, I’ll take you. Later.”

Thor whimpers as Loki’s teeth bite harder, and his whole body seizes up with something between pleasure and pain. He gasps words even he can’t understand, then rolls them over, spreading Loki’s legs wide so he can find his place beneath them. His finger slips inside Loki, and Thor’s eyes slip shut.

Loki is warm inside, not burning hot, yet comforting and slicked with seidr. Thor gasps, one finger inside Loki and Loki’s scent all around him. He presses his finger the rest of the way in, and Loki moans beneath him. Thor’s eyes fly open, and he catches Loki’s gaze before he can look away. Loki’s eyes are storm-dark, the color of the sea beneath thunderclouds, and Thor cannot look away. They take hold of him, and pull him in, and he’s kissing Loki again, desperately. Loki’s mouth is cool with arousal, and they bite at one another, not quite able to keep the kiss going as they breathe heavily.

“Another. I want another in me,” Loki groans against his lips.

Thor growls, almost shoving his index finger inside Loki. Loki whimpers, and for a single moment Thor wonders if he has hurt him. But then Loki rocks down on his hand, and Thor forgets about all worries. He crooks his fingers. Loki goes boneless beneath him, gasping, panting, his eyes wide and bright. Thor smiles.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks. “You like me inside you, opening you up for my cock. You like that I’m taking care of you, spending my time on you.”

Loki turns his face to one side, but Thor reaches out and grabs his chin, forcing Loki to look at him.

“Answer me,” he orders, and fits another fingertip inside Loki at the words. Loki whimpers, biting his lip, his eye flaring with frustration. “Answer me, brother, love.”

“Yes,” Loki hisses, cheeks coloring and chest heaving. “Yes, you brute. I like it.”

Thor sighs with satisfaction, his cock starting to leak against Loki’s bare skin. He kisses Loki again, stilling his fingers so he can press their mouths softly against one another.

Loki bites him. Hard.

Thor growls, tearing his mouth away. His lip is bleeding, and his body trembles with lust. Pain sparks through him like pleasure, exploding before his eyes and then settling low in his belly. His cock jerks, and he grinds down against Loki’s. There is no true relief in the press of their cocks together, though, not while he can feel Loki clench down around his fingers, drawing them deeper in.

“Fuck me, Thor. If you want to please me, fuck me now.” Loki has blood on his lips, and he licks them clean as he spits out orders.

Thor rocks his hips one more time against Loki’s, but then he frees his fingers from Loki’s body with a wet sound. He runs them across the inside of Loki’s thigh, trailing slickness across his skin. Loki shakes beneath his fingers, spreading his legs wider, and Thor takes the chance to press them up, folding Loki almost in half. He grabs a pillow from the bed, shoving it under Loki’s exposed ass.

Loki looks perfect like this, laid out for him, his legs spread so wide that Thor can see his pink hole, dripping with seidr-born slick and open for him. His balls are heavy between his thighs, his cock leaking on his belly. Thor licks his lips, momentarily distracted by his brother’s beauty. They seem to have been made as perfect complements, Loki the moon to his sun. His golden skin shines against the backdrop of Loki’s glimmering, pale thighs where he holds tightly to Loki’s leg.

There’s heavy musk in the air, the smell of sex and pleasure. Thor takes a deep breath, and Loki’s hole twitches in front of him. He lets go of one of Loki’s thighs so he can guide his cock to rest against Loki’s body. He trembles, his balls full and an ache deep at the base of his spine, and presses just the head of his cock against Loki. For a moment, Loki resists him, but then he opens up, and Thor rests just inside.

He tears his eyes away from the place where they’ve started to join, looking up to see Loki staring sightlessly back at him. Loki’s face has gone slack, all planning, all plotting washed away in the desperate search for pleasure. He tries to rock down on Thor’s cock, but with his legs folded up like this, he can’t seem to get any leverage.

“Thor… stop this torture… fuck me, Thor,” Loki begs, gasping the words.

“This is what you wanted, Loki? To be split open on my cock, to have me in so many ways that no one else can ever compare?” Thor asks. It’s an effort to get the words out, to hold himself back from plunging deep inside Loki and spending his pleasure inside his brother, but Thor wants an answer to this before he lets himself go.

“Yes,” Loki hisses, the word ripping its way out of his throat, tearing free from whatever schemes were holding it fast. “Yes, I want you more than anything. Yes, I need you to want me in every way.”

Thor nods, and then, gloriously, wonderfully, he lets himself push the rest of the way inside in one long stroke. Loki trembles around him, his head falling back on the mattress and his cock jerking. His belly is wet with precome now. Thor breathes deeply, holding himself inside Loki, and swipes his fingers through it. When Thor brings them to his lips, Loki tastes of salt and the sea, of pine forests and seidr. It is intoxicating, better than the finest mead, and Thor finally lets go.

Dimly, he hears Loki whimpering beneath him as he starts to fuck him, and Thor’s hips snap forward of their own will, pounding into his brother. Loki is warm around him, tight and sweet, and Thor bites his own fingers to keep from yelling in pleasure. Then Loki’s fingers find the back of his neck, Loki’s leg wraps around his waist, and they are rolling over.

When Thor’s dazed mind finally catches up with his body, he finds himself flat on his back, his hips snapping up as Loki rides him. Loki’s nails bite into his shoulders. Thor looks up to see Loki’s head thrown back, his neck bared in a long curve of pleasure and his hair hanging down in disarray. Thor grabs his ass, pulling Loki down onto him hard and making Loki gasp. He can already feel his balls drawing up, tightening as Loki trembles about him.

Loki looks down at him, and his smirk is back, if a little brighter and happier than Thor is used to seeing it. He rides Thor like he is possessed by a spirit of lust, rising up and down, his cock bobbing and jerking as he uses Thor for his pleasure. Thor grins, delighted. He wraps his hand around Loki’s cock, and Loki moans.

It is a long, filthy sound, and Thor strokes him quickly, hoping to draw more like it from Loki’s throat. Loki shudders, his thighs trembling like a leaf tossed about on the winds of a storm, his eyes half shut in pleasure and that smirk still on his face.

“Don’t stop,” he groans, and Thor tightens his grip.

Loki sinks down farther than ever before, all the way down so Thor’s balls brush his ass, and Thor feels a moan ripped from his throat. His balls draw up and he arches off the bed, driving into Loki, starting to come. Above him, Loki is whispering, filthy words punctuated by desperate sighs. A few reach Thor through the haze of pleasure that runs through him as his cock jerks and twitches inside Loki.

“Fuck, your cock… Thor, you’re a fucking… Can’t believe…”

Then Thor loses the thread of Loki’s voice in the rush of pleasure, his eyes slamming shut and his hips pistoning out of control. His body feels as though it is filled with lightening, as though he had called the storm into himself and let it fester, its pleasure filling him up until it has to break free somehow. Dimly, he realizes that sparks are gathering at his fingers even without mjolnir there to guide them, but he pays them no heed. All that matters is the pleasure running through him, the way that Loki is clenching around him, the feel of Loki’s come running across his fingers as Loki spills too.

It seems to take ages for him to come down. His whole body shudders and quakes, sparkling pleasure only slowly receding. Finally, Thor’s eyes flutter open. Loki is slumped across his chest, panting. There are scorch marks on the ceiling, and the whole room glows with seidr, even though Thor cannot see a source.

Slowly, though, the glow fades away, and all that is left is flickering torchlight that plays across Loki’s skin. Thor eases himself out carefully, and Loki whimpers, his fingers digging into Thor’s chest ineffectually. Thor shushes him, stroking his hair and smiling softly. Loki glares at him.

“Don’t go fuck Fandral,” Loki tries to hiss, but his voice is too worn and broken for his tones.

“Not ever,” Thor’s mind reels, and his lips move before he can think through what he is saying. “No one else, not ever. I swear to you, Loki. I swear on my hammer, on my life, and on the memory of our fathers before us.”

Loki’s eyes gleam even as he lays his head on Thor’s shoulder. His hand is flat on Thor’s chest, and it gleams with seidr faintly for a moment. Then he laughs, kissing Thor’s throat. Thor shakes his head. Something feels different, something has caught and twisted inside him, but it is not important enough to worry about, not now that Loki’s lips are on his and he wants to breathe words of love into Loki’s panting mouth. Loki is in his arms, happy, and that is all that matters for now.