They were eight and Thor had bent to admire the snake that stared up at him from the grass, black and gold scales glinting in the sun, eyes a startling emerald-green, small pink tongue flicking lazily from its mouth. Thor reached for it, already his young hands big and rough, but he tried so hard to be gentle; he only wanted to pet the snake because it was so beautiful . For a moment, he cradled it softly to his chest before there was a flash of green light and his brother’s slight form was pressed into his chest, Loki’s sudden weight causing him to stumble. When Thor looked up, he was still staring into the snake’s green eyes but now they were set into his brother’s pale face which, even at such a young age, was twisted in contempt. Thor, although startled, kept his arms wrapped around his brother, letting Loki tangle his skinny legs around his waist.
“Yargh! It’s me!” Loki cried, eyes dancing with malice as he removed one hand from around Thor’s neck to pull a glittering blade out of thin air.
Thor’s own blue eyes widened in shock and he tried to drop Loki, but his brother clung to him like some sort of animal, lips curved in something too feral to be a smile. Thor tried to shake him off but Loki only held on tighter, and even though Thor knew what was coming, he couldn’t help the small bit of joy that came from having his brother so close to him. That, however, was quickly extinguished when Loki stabbed him.
Thor forgave him the next day.
They were teenagers, and although Thor was already comfortable in his large frame, having somehow skipped the awkwardness of adolescence entirely, Loki had taken to curling in on himself, as though he could make his long limbs and thin body disappear if he just tried hard enough. No one had ever called Thor observant in things other than hunting, but even he could see the way his brother tried to make himself small and unnoticeable. It had been many years since Loki had taken to spending his days in the library, his only friends the dusty tomes that lined the walls, trailing his long fingers over thick gold spines and bending close to peer intently at ancient runes that hardly anyone could read anymore. And it had been years since Thor had begun to occupy himself with accompanying his father on his hunting trips, and drinking with the other boys his age, the ones Loki wanted nothing to do with and who wanted nothing to do with Loki.
It saddened him, often, to remember the days they spent running in golden sunshine through the gardens, the evenings they spent at their mother’s feet, listening to her stories, and the nights they lay in bed together, telling each other stories they themselves made up. Thor’s were always mundane, usually about some great war or another, but Loki’s were fantastic. Sometimes he told Thor old stories, ones he knew Loki hadn’t made up himself, like the birth of the cosmos from Ginnungagap , but sometimes he made up his own tales, and Thor loved those most of all. Countless, endless nights Thor was lulled to sleep by Loki’s melodic voice, weaving history and fable together so that it formed a rich tapestry behind Thor’s eyes, unlike any of those that lined their halls. Thor, for a long time, lived for those nights, Loki’s small body pressed close to his, their hands tangled together, Thor’s warm and thrumming with barely contained energy, Loki’s cold and steady. Silvertongue , Thor had called Loki one of those nights and Loki had smiled at the name. By the time they were adults, Loki no longer smiled when someone called him that, and Thor mourned deeply that his words had been twisted beyond repair.
They were teenagers and for a long time, for many years, they rarely saw each other. Where Thor turned loud and more vibrant, Loki turned sullen and distant. His words were often barbed and cutting.
“Things are harder for him,” Frigga had told him gently one afternoon after Thor had been shunned by his brother again.
“What things?” Thor had questioned, raising his head from where he had been glaring at the ground.
Frigga sighed, smoothing Thor’s golden strands away from his face.
They were young men and Thor had just discovered the joys of bedding women. For nearly three whole days and three whole nights, the sky had cracked with lightning and Thor never left his bedroom. After the third day, Loki was sent to retrieve Thor, as there was harvesting that needed to be tended to and no one dared venture outside for fear of being struck by the lightning. Thor answered the sharp rapping at his door with a call to enter, the words dying in his throat when he saw who it was.
Loki’s face was impassive, but he took in the rumpled bed sheets and the naked woman beside Thor with a barely discernible curl of his lips. The woman - Thor was having difficulty remembering her name - giggled uncomfortably.
“I require a word with my brother,” Loki had said, voice clipped.
The woman’s smile had faded and she gathered her clothing in silence before retreating, giving Loki a curious look on her way out. Loki waited patiently until the door swung closed behind her before unclasping his hands from behind his back and walking closer to the bed, taking a seat in a nearby chair.
“Father has requested you cease your,” Loki lips twitched into a real sneer now, “ copulation for the time being, as there are crops to be harvested.”
Thor had looked at him blankly. “What does my fucking have to do with the crops being harvested?”
Loki flinched slightly at the vulgar term, eyes narrowing slightly. “There’s been incessant lightning for three days now, Thor.”
Thor felt a deep blush creeping over his cheeks.
“So everyone . . .”
“Knows of your activities? Yes.”
Thor sighed, sitting up in bed, careful to keep the sheet over his lap. Loki watched him with an unreadable gaze, an infuriating habit he had acquired of late. Thor never knew what he was thinking anymore. In an attempt to shift the embarrassment, or perhaps he thought to engage Loki in the same conversation that he often engaged in with the other men, or simply because the question had taken root in his brain and he could not rid himself of it, Thor asked with a strange air of forced casualty:
“And you, brother? What happens during your pleasure?”
Loki’s eyes had widened, mouth parting slightly, and Thor thought that coaxing an actual expression out of Loki had been worth it in and of itself.
“I beg your pardon?” Loki breathed, looking scandalized.
Thor rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a prude, Loki. If I bring lightening, what do you do? Make it rain snakes?”
Thor laughed at his own joke but Loki continued to stare at him silently until Thor’s laughter faded.
“What?” asked Thor, not understanding, as always, “Haven’t you . . . oh.”
The smallest blush crept up Loki’s cheeks and his eyes shifted away.
“Loki, have you not lain with a woman yet?”
Thor tensed after the question, bracing himself for a knife to be conjured out of thin air and pressed to his throat, or for Loki to snap his head up and snarl insults at him. What he did not expect, was Loki’s proud shoulders to slump or for his blush to deepen.
“Who would have me?” he whispered, voice miserable.
Thor gaped at him a moment, before hurrying to him, making sure to wrap the sheet tightly around his waist. Cautiously, he dropped to his knees beside his brother. Loki studiously avoided his eyes, mouth set in a thin line, but he allowed Thor’s hand to rest heavily on his thigh.
“Brother-” he started but Loki cut him off with murder in his voice.
“ Do not . I do not need your pity, Thor,” he spat.
Thor did not draw away his hand. “I have no pity for you, brother,” he said softly, “I was only to say that anyone who would not have you is a fool.”
That same look of shock crossed Loki’s face again as he turned to stare at Thor. Slowly, as though trying to tame a wild animal, Thor raised a hand to cup Loki’s face, thumb brushing the sharp line of his jaw. For a moment, Loki’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the touch. Thor wondered, with a deep sadness, when the last time someone had shown Loki affection. He seemed half-starved for it. When Loki opened his eyes, they were softer somehow, not the jagged shards Thor was used to of late.
“Who would have me when they could have you?” Loki questioned softly, but there was no more poison in his voice, just a quiet unhappiness.
Thor’s stomach dropped at the words and he hurried to comfort his brother, as always speaking before he thought.
Loki stared at him in open shock, mouth falling fully open this time, and it took a moment for Thor’s words to catch up with his brain. When they did, his face flared a deep red and he yanked his hand back.
“I only meant that - if I was not - if we - I merely meant that you are beautiful, Loki. And clever. Were you not forever in that library of yours, you’d have a million suitors after you.”
Thor was suddenly, uncomfortably aware of how naked he was beneath the thin summer sheet. Loki was still watching him with a probing gaze, brows drawn together in confusion. He was silent for a long time before he asked in almost a whisper:
“What is it like?”
For a second, Thor was unsure what he was referencing. When it clicked, he blushed again.
“It is, well, it is wonderful,” he said weakly, “It is like the rush after a successful hunt or battle a million times over.”
Loki’s lips curled into what could have been a smile. “I do not hunt.”
“When are you happiest, then? When do you feel most alive?”
Loki considered this, his eyes darkening briefly. Finally, he said:
“When I am in control.”
Thor did not know what that meant. He didn’t feel as though it was the time to ask, however.
“Right. Well, it’s like that rush but more.”
Loki hmmd softly, clever eyes tracing Thor’s face as though looking for something. Thor shifted uncomfortably.
“Well,” Loki murmured, cool breath ghosting across Thor’s heated face, “It sounds . . . intense.”
“It is,” Thor confirmed, “Although I’ve heard tell that it is different when it is with someone you love.”
Loki’s lips curled into a smirk on the last word. “And have you experienced that, brother?”
Thor hesitated. Loki oozed indifference but Thor could see the tight line of his throat, the way one hand was curled into a fist.
A tension seemed to leave Loki at that and he smiled blindingly at Thor.
Gods , Thor thought, entranced by the sight of Loki’s happiness, Who would not want you, brother? You are so beautiful .
They were older the first time Loki got drunk. As Thor wrapped an arm around his brother’s slender waist and led him to his chambers, he smiled and managed not to mention how little Asgardian mead it took to get his brother well and truly drunk.
“Put me down, you oaf,” Loki commanded once they were in his room, the haughtiness of his words ruined slightly by the slurred quality.
Thor only grinned widely, doing as his brother bid him, watching with ill-concealed amusement as Loki stumbled to the ground. His brother glared up at him from the floor, color high on his cheeks, mouth pursed in anger, and for not the first time, Thor was struck by his beauty. He could not understand why girls flocked to him and not his brother, save for Loki’s aloofness. If he had been a woman, he thought, he would have found himself in Loki’s bed long ago.
Thor banished the thought from his mind, instead extending a hand to Loki who gingerly took it. Thor yanked him to his feet and Loki, thrown off balance again, fell onto his bed in a heap of long limbs and green silk. Thor smirked at his usually infuriatingly graceful brother undone by a few pints of mead.
“A little help, if you would be so kind, brother?” came Loki’s muffled voice, his annoyance still clear.
“With what?” Thor questioned, giving Loki’s face-down form a questioning once-over.
Thor snorted before realizing Loki’s demand was in ernest.
“I am not undressing you, Loki.”
Loki lifted his head enough to give Thor a baleful look. “Please?”
Thor was so shocked by hearing the word please come out of his brother’s mouth, all he could do was nod mutley and move slowly toward the bed. Loki dropped his head back down with a sigh and went boneless as Thor started on his shoes. He tossed the leather boots in the corner before shoving Loki’s side.
“You’ll have to flip over.”
Loki complied with a groan, hand going to cover his eyes. Thor rolled his eyes at the dramatics. The room was spinning a little for him, as well, and he was taking care of things just fine. Thor fumbled with Loki’s belt but the position was too awkward. With a sigh, Thor hauled himself up on the bed, straddling Loki with one knee on either side of his brother’s slim thighs. He was in a much better position to yank at the belt until it came undone in his hands and joined Loki’s boots in the corner. When Thor glanced back up, Loki was watching him with a strange expression on his face. Thor felt something twist hotly in his stomach and he found himself holding Loki’s gaze as he stripped his overcoat off and then the loose tunic he wore. Underneath him, Loki’s slender form was spread out, all milk-white skin and the sharp line of bone. He looked less fragile than Thor remembered, there was a certain power to him that had less to do with the flat muscle he had acquired at some point, and more to do with the way he held himself. Somewhere along the years, he had lost the tendency to curve inward. Now, he stretched out lazily below Thor as if for his admiration.
“You have bedded someone,” Thor stated. It wasn’t a question.
Loki lifted an eyebrow, smirking. “Yes, brother. I suppose there are those who would have me.”
“I told you there would be,” Thor grumbled, yanking roughly at Loki’s leggings, tearing them slightly in the process, suddenly annoyed for a reason he couldn’t quite name.
Loki’s cool hands stilled his work, and he slid his leggings down the rest of the way on his own, Thor shifting slightly so Loki could toss them off the side of the bed. Thor was, all of a sudden, painfully aware that Loki was naked below him and oh . Thor couldn’t imagine that Loki’s partners had been disappointed in their choice of lover.
“You’re staring,” Loki remarked dryly and Thor snapped his head up, heat rushing to his face.
Thor shifted again, trying to subtly remove himself from the bed but, to his absolute and complete horror, he felt arousal, warm and aching, beginning to pool in his groin at the sight of his brother’s naked body. If Loki noticed, he didn’t say anything, choosing instead to watch Thor with that same smirk on his lips.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Thor muttered, and it was true; for a long time he knew Loki’s body just as well as he knew his own, a result of living a life with another.
“No?” Loki’s smirk widened and he stretched ever so slightly, arching his back off the bed, pressing his body up into Thor’s until he could feel the cool touch of Loki’s skin through his own clothing. The heat in his belly snapped at the contact and he bit back a gasp. Something inside of him was screaming that this was wrong, but Thor had never tended towards introspection or impulse control. Tentatively, as if his body suddenly had a mind of its own, Thor cupped his large hands around the smooth expanse of skin on either side of Loki’s ribcage. His brother’s eyes darkened at the touch, but Thor ignored him, running his hands down to wrap around sharp hip bones. Loki was watching him in a way that reminded Thor of a snake waiting to strike. For a fleeting second, Thor thought he would let Loki sink his fangs into him if it meant he got to stay in Loki’s bed with Loki pressed down into the sheets beneath him. Then it was gone, and Thor could no longer ignore the voice telling him that he needed to leave. He wrenched away from Loki, hurrying to the door, his brother’s eyes and laughter following him down the hall. Thor found the blondest, bluest-eyed woman he could and fucked her hard enough that he almost forgot about black hair and laughing green eyes. But when lightning split the sky in two, it was long, lean lines and sharp hip bones that he thought of.
They were years and years older the first time.
Loki, already beginning to show signs of what would be called madness, had baited Thor with taunting words meant to cut him. And they had. It was how Thor had found himself with one hand wrapped firmly around his brother’s throat, pinning him to the wall. And Loki’s eyes, sharp enough to cut glass, had egged him on even as he gasped out get your hands off of me, you brute . Thor had only squeezed harder, anger forgotten in place of fascination as Loki’s eyes had darkened, until they were almost black, the pupils blown huge. Sudden understanding had struck Thor then, and he had crowded into Loki’s space, wanting confirmation. When he pressed himself roughly against Loki, he could feel his brother’s arousal against his thigh, and he almost pulled away before catching himself. Loki watched him carefully, rubbing his neck when Thor released him.
It sickened Thor that it was his mistreatment that had his brother hard, even though vaguely he knew that shouldn’t be the part that sickened him.
“Coward,” Loki spat when Thor turned away and headed the the door.
In the end, all it took was that one word for Thor to stalk back over, anger reignited - because why couldn’t Loki ever be pleasant? - and slam Loki against the wall so hard the stones crumbled. With one hand, Thor grabbed a fistful of dark hair and yanked Loki’s head back. And the other, with which he had planned to hit his brother with, somehow was jerking Loki’s hips toward his own until they were flush against each other and Loki could feel Thor’s own answering arousal. At his gasp of shock, Thor yanked his hair harder, before crushing their mouths together hard enough to sting. Loki’s cool mouth was unyielding under his own so he forced it open with his tongue, roughly exploring, knocking teeth together and then Loki was returning the kiss, equally as desperate and hungry and angry. He bit at Thor’s lip hard enough that both both tasted the sweetness of blood, but Thor only growled low in his throat, rutting brutally into his brother. Loki’s chuckle was swallowed by Thor’s mouth as his hands ripped carelessly at Loki’s leggings, shredding them and leaving them to fall around his ankles.
Thor could feel Loki’s arousal heavy against his leg but he refused to break from the kiss, sure Loki would never again let him if he were to do so, instead taking Loki blindly in hand and beginning to work him quickly, his other hand still firmly gripping Loki’s hair. And his brother, for all his centuries of practicing self-control, came apart under Thor’s hands, whimpering and whining. The sounds spilling into his mouth from his brother’s were almost too much for Thor. Lightening ripped across the sky, illuminating them as Thor fumbled with his belt one-handedly.
“Here,” Loki gasped, magic flaring across his fingertips as he pressed them to Thor’s.
Thor felt the slick of oil coating his fingers and his throat constricted. How much must Loki - who trusted no one - trust him to allow Thor to do this?
“Now,” Loki snarled, drawing Thor out of his thoughts.
Thor obeyed, roughly spinning Loki around so that his pale hands were braced against the shattered wall, head dipped low, the soft arch of his back glowing in the moonlight. He was so astoundingly beautiful that Thor paused for a moment just to admire his brother, before sliding the first finger in. He tried to be gentle but he was clumsy and felt as though he might be doing more harm than good. Indeed, Loki growled in frustration, and yet he rocked back against Thor’s finger as if he could not help himself. Thor added another finger.
“Enough,” Loki finally snapped, after Thor had worked him open and Loki was all but panting.
Thor hesitated, pressing the softest of kisses to Loki’s neck, before entering him.
Lightning, again and again, until the fields were charred. Thor, who had thought that he was, by now, an expert in all matters of pleasure, was hardly able to comprehend this new experience. Because yes, Loki’s tight heat around him was unbelievably good, but it was so much more. For once, Thor was hardly focused on his own pleasure. Instead, all he could do was gasp at the way Loki’s breathing grew ragged, moans tearing from his throat as if he could not help himself. Thor dipped his head to the two indents at the lowest point of Loki’s back, tasting his skin and Loki shuddered, letting out something close to a mewl. Thor chased Loki’s skin with his tongue, up the knobs of his spine, before grabbing his hair again and pulling him up, yanking him close so that Loki’s back was pressed tightly to his chest. With one hand still in his black hair, holding Loki’s head back against his shoulder so that he could bite roughly at the soft skin of Loki’s neck, Thor’s other hand reached down and took Loki back in hand.
Loki’s sounds of pleasure were coming freely now. Thor knew he couldn’t last must longer, and yet he abhorred the idea of parting from Loki. This, their coupling, was the most natural thing Thor had ever felt besides the power that flowed between him at Mjolnir. To him, it felt as though their bodies were made to fit together like this.
“ Thor .”
His name on Loki’s lips pushed him over the edge and for the last time, lightning streaked across the sky in such a way people spoke of it for years to come. Loki followed him with a soft cry, his magic flaring briefly all around them, before going limp in Thor’s arms.
Neither spoke for a long moment, the only sound their labored breathing, Thor supporting Loki’s still form with ease, until at last Thor broke the silence.
“Many years ago, you asked me what it was like to bed someone. I told you only that which I had experienced, but I also told you that I had heard it was different with someone you love. I know that to be true now.”
Loki was silent for so long that Thor thought he would not receive an answer. Finally, however, Loki spoke and his voice was raw.
“No matter what I say, Thor, never doubt that I love you. Always remember that, even when I cannot.”
Thor only held his brother tighter, moving them to the bed. They curled close as they had when they were children, and Thor tried to appreciate the moment, tried to ignore the feeling that they were existing on borrowed time.
“Tell me a story?” he whispered into the darkness.
“Stories are for children,” Loki sighed, running his fingers over Thor’s chest, his soft hair tickling Thor’s neck, “And you always wanted the ones with happy endings.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Thor asked, catching Loki’s hand and bringing it to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses to it, trying to make out Loki’s face in the darkness.
“There are no happy endings in real life,” Loki replied, his words cold.
And yet, he let Thor pull him closer and find his mouth. Even when Loki eventually drifted to sleep, Thor stayed awake until the sun rose, bathing Loki in its golden light. In sleep, Loki looked startlingly peaceful and achingly beautiful. Something in Thor’s heart began to hurt. There are no happy endings .
When Loki woke, he smiled sleepily at Thor, eyes hazy and, for perhaps the last time, peaceful. Thor felt his breath catch.
“You are the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” Thor whispered.
Loki’s eyes widened slightly. And then he smiled again - his real smile, the one Thor remembered from their youth - lacing his fingers with Thor’s.
It was the last time Thor saw that smile.
They were men when Loki fell. Thor dreamed of the coldness in his eyes, the likes of which had never been there before, not even during the worst years where he refused to even acknowledge Thor.
It felt so unbearably wrong to face Loki across a battlefield, instead of having him at his side, that he had to close his eyes to keep from going to his brother.
It never started feeling right.
They were hardly brothers when Thor visited Loki in his cell.
“Loki, enough. No more illusions.”
And when Loki’s projection had burned away, Thor fought to keep his expression blank. For in the hundreds of years he had known Loki, he had never seen his brother like this.
Loki sat slumped against the far wall, hair in disarray, dressed plainly, a small pool of blood by his bare feet. And his cell - it looked, Thor thought, exactly like what the temper tantrum of a god would look like. Every last thing was smashed to bits and angry, black handprints covered the walls. Thor stared at a small cluster of berries that had been ground into the floor, looking for all the world like the smears of Loki’s blood next to them. He struggled to meet his brother’s eyes, a deep and profound sickness creeping over him as he did so. This was not Loki, this was not how it should be. Loki should be standing tall and proud in front of Thor, taunting him even through the glass.
“Now you see me, brother.”
But this was not Loki.
And yet, something had shifted inside Thor. Loki had put himself here, it was his own fault . Thor could no longer find in himself the same compassion he once had. Seeing Loki like this - beaten - made his stomach roil, but he no longer trusted Loki. And so, he could not - would not - move heaven and earth for him, not this time.
“You betray me, and I will kill you.”
The words felt heavy and wrong on his tongue, but not empty. They rang true. By the expression on Loki’s face, he knew it too.
They were brothers and so much more the second time. A stolen moment, one Thor knew he shouldn’t have taken advantage of. But it felt so right to fight with Loki at his side again that Thor couldn’t help pulling Loki into a crushing hug the first time they were alone, holding him so tightly he would have splintered his brother’s bones had be been mortal.
Loki held himself stiffly, arms at his sides and Thor could almost feel him scowling as he pressed his face into Loki’s hair, refusing to let his brother’s distaste for physical affection deter him. Thor remembered a time, not so very long ago, when Loki craved a soft touch more than anything. It was hard for him to believe that part of Loki was completely gone.
And so he tangled his hands in Loki’s raven locks, breathing the familiar smell of his brother in, frost-covered forests and ancient scrolls, and, under it all, the scent of Loki’s magic, unlike anything Thor had ever smelled before. It made Thor think of the eternal, twisting roots of Yggdrasil , the warm sunlit fields of Asgard, the snow-covered craigs of Jotunheim.
“Remove yourself from me, you sentimental fool.”
Thor only smiled at Loki’s affronted demand, squeezing him tighter in retaliation.
“It was good to fight with you again, brother,” he said when he finally released Loki.
Loki made a show of smoothing away imaginary wrinkles in his clothing before meeting Thor’s eyes.
“Do not get used to it.”
“Too late,” Thor smiled.
Loki rolled his eyes and Thor chuckled, remembering how Frigga used to chide Loki for doing that so often.
“What?” Loki asked, narrowing his eyes at Thor.
“I was only remembering how mother would tell you that your eyes would stay crossed forever if you kept rolling them like that.”
A soft look came over Loki’s face at the mention of Frigga and a small smile graced his lips.
“I remember that as well.”
Thor couldn’t help himself, overwhelmed with longing at the gentle expression on his brother’s face. He stepped closer again, ignoring the way Loki backed up like a cornered animal.
“Come here, Loki.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed again. “Absolutely not.”
Loki’s lips pulled back in a snarl but he did not move when Thor took another step towards him and then another. He did not move, even when Thor sank to his knees in front of him, only looked down at Thor with a frozen expression. He did not move when Thor wrapped his arms around his brother’s slender waist, pulling him close and resting his forehead against Loki’s stomach.
“What are you doing, Thor?”
Loki’s voice was choked and awed, all at once. Thor was not unaware that he had never kneeled before anyone in his life, save for Odin. Instead of replying, Thor simply looked up at Loki, pleased by the confused look on his brother’s face. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Loki completely undone.
Still keeping his brother’s gaze, Thor slowly moved his hands to Loki’s belt, pulling at the worn leather. Loki’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth falling open a little.
“Shut up, Loki.”
Loki’s mouth snapped shut. Finally . Thor made quick work of Loki’s belt, making sure to be gentler with his leggings this time, tugging them down to his ankles. Loki’s eyebrows were still raised incredulously but his eyes were dark, pupils blown as they had been the first time. The sight had lust, white-hot, shooting through Thor.
He had never done this before, but he had been on the receiving end enough times to know how it worked. Eagerly, he dipped his head to take Loki in his mouth, his brother already half-hard. What Thor lacked in practice, he attempted to make up for with enthusiasm. The soft gasp Loki had exhaled when Thor had wrapped his mouth around him only made Thor all the more determined to have Loki fall apart under his hands. It didn’t take long.
Thor moaned when he felt Loki’s hands tangle in his hair, but to his surprise, Loki did nothing else other than card his fingers through Thor’s strands, even rubbing small circles with his thumbs at the base of Thor’s skull. Thor grabbed Loki’s hips, pulling him closer and forcing him further down his own throat. Loki’s bitten-off cry was worth the uncomfortable sensation of being unable to breath.
Thor struggled to keep Loki in his sight as he swallowed him down, but the angle was too difficult to do so, and so Thor settled for closing his eyes and relaxing his throat until his nose hit the soft curls between Loki’s legs. He listened in rapt wonder at the soft cries spilling freely from his brother now, committing every last one to memory. Loki’s fingers tightened spasmodically in Thor’s hair, and he knew he was close.
Thor pulled back enough to peer upwards, allowed himself to take in Loki’s flushed face, his indecently red lips parted in pleasure, eyes half-lidded and filled with such desire that Thor shivered. Then he swallowed him back down until he hit the back of Thor’s throat, again and again until Loki was shaking and crying out over and over. And Thor, remembering the way Loki’s eyes had gone glassy when he had wrapped his hand around his throat, grabbed at Loki’s hips again, digging his fingers into the soft flesh roughly, slamming Loki down his throat. After that, it was mere moments until Loki came truly and thoroughly undone, spending down Thor’s throat with a soft, shocked sound and sliding down to the floor as though his legs could no longer support him.
Thor shifted, sliding his fingers through Loki’s hair and stroking it until his brother’s breathing evened out again and he looked up through his long, dark lashes at Thor, green eyes blazing.
“Fuck me, Thor.”
And Thor could not have resisted if he tried, not after hearing such a command from Loki’s own lips. In one fluid motion, he pulled Loki up, depositing him on the bed and climbing over him. Thor reached down to prepare Loki, but was stopped by cool hands stilling his own.
Thor searched Loki’s face, searching for assurance. Loki offered him a small, lazy smile before waving his hand idly. Thor glanced down to where his clothing, and Loki’s, had disappeared.
“Quite,” Loki murmured, reaching for Thor and wrapping a long, pale hand around him, fingers already slick with oil. Thor gasped, hips jerking into the touch, eyes slipping closed. Loki stroked him swiftly, but his cool touch was gone quickly, and Thor opened his eyes to see his brother spread out below him, pliant and willing. It was almost too much.
Thor entered him slowly, taking his time, memorizing every inch of Loki, every gasping breath, every stretch of taut muscle. When he was fully inside Loki, he dropped his head to his white throat, mouthing at his sharp collarbone.
“You are so beautiful, brother,” he panted, feeling Loki’s answering shudder.
And then he fucked Loki, not hard and angrily as before, but slowly and sweetly, taking every opportunity to capture Loki’s mouth with his own. He brought Loki to completion twice more, his magic flaring all around them, before pressing his forehead against Loki’s, and coming with his brother’s name on his lips.
Neither of them slept that night. Instead, they recalled memories of their youth in soft voices, laying on their sides, hands clasped together tightly. And when words no longer felt necessary, they simply watched each other, comfortable in silence.
Thor always recalled the softness of Loki’s face that night, eyes clear and bright, a gentle, sad smile gracing his lips. He held the memory close to his heart; that night and a million other little intimacies.
They had shared a hundred lifetimes together when they faced Thanos on the ship. As Thor struggled against the hand holding him in place, he saw the god that Loki had become; devastatingly beautiful and terrible all at the same time. He saw his childhood and every moment since then. He saw his pain and his suffering but also the purest joy he had ever felt. Gazing at Loki - his brother - for the last time, he saw the greatest love he had ever known.
Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odison, the Rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief .
Loki’s eyes, a blazing green fire, turned to him. In them, Thor saw the answer he had been searching a hundred years for; in them he saw a lifetime of love.
I assure you, brother, the sun will shine on us again .
And then Loki was gone.
It wasn’t so different from saying Thor was gone.