“You truly should not have drunk that last casket of mead,” Loki said.
“Llllllllllllloki,” Thor said, and perhaps it was the too-wide stretch of Thor’s grin, the splay of his inert body on the floor, or the drunken sprawl of the syllables from his mouth which caused Loki to sigh so deeply. One could never know, with Loki - it could be all, or it could be none, because what Loki saw and cared for was often far too elusive for Thor to grasp, even when not laying on the cold ground with empty tankards all around him.
“I shall be taking him,” Loki said to someone far off from Thor’s vision, which amounted essentially to the ceiling above him, the underside of the table, and some of the table leg.
His brother then leaned down to gather Thor in his arms, his thin but strong arms, oh, even all of Thor’s mass was nothing to Loki. Loki slung Thor’s weighty arm over his shoulder and stood, and even with Thor’s boots limply sliding against the floor, Loki moved with ease. He had done this before. Forever had Loki been there to guide Thor up when he had fallen; forever had Loki stood by Thor to carry him when he was weak. How Thor loved Loki. His dear brother, with all his acid tongue and bladed words, still had such kind and helpful hands.
“Hands which could easily wring your neck,” Loki said, with the same ease he might use to point out a stain on someone’s (usually Thor’s) tunic.
Thor imagined Loki’s hands around his neck. “Mrfgh,” he replied.
Loki took Thor to his chambers as briskly as a deliveryman depositing a package. He practically threw Thor onto the bed, but Thor held on quite tight, and so Loki ended up throwing himself onto the bed as well.
Loki was a slippery, slippery little weasel; he darted away from grasping hands like a silvery fish in a clear river. He looked so easy to capture, but just when you put your hand around him, it turned out that he had actually never even been between your fingers. But Thor, Thor had learned the art of catching fish well. When Loki tried to slip out from the bed, quick as lightning, Thor rolled over and caught him.
Thor felt the rumbling annoyance through Loki’s body beneath him. “Thor,” Loki said in warning; Thor smiled, scooting closer, letting all of his body weight settle atop Loki, who lay sprawled out on the bed.
“Good night, Loki,” Thor said, and smacked a kiss on Loki’s face.
“Eurgh,” Loki said, like Thor had put a snail on his cheek and let it dribble slime all over him. The slime was just Thor’s saliva so it wasn’t even that bad; it did not warrant such a disgusted facial reaction. In spite, Thor smacked another, bigger kiss on Loki’s cheek. And also licked him. “You are the bane of my existence,” Loki said, without emotion.
“And you are my brother,” Thor said, because he could not think of any better word to express the love and the warmth inside of him than the word he used to mean Loki.
Loki sighed. He resigned himself to his fate beneath Thor, letting his body relax onto the bed. Thor knew better than to trust it. The second Thor let up, Loki would wriggle his way out. That was simply how Loki did things. Wait for an opportunity, and strike. Thor threw his leg over Loki and insisted, “Stay.“ Then, when Loki’s eyebrow ticked, he added, “Please?”
“Drunkard oaf,” Loki muttered. “Should you vomit in your sleep, I shall not save you from choking.” It was as good as an agreement, so Thor beamed and nuzzled his face into Loki’s neck. Loki sighed and performed some kind of magic to strip them both of armor, leaving them in tunics and pants.
This was good; now they could sleep. Thor happily gripped Loki in his arms and, so settled, let himself slip away into a doze.
Drunken sleep was quiet and peaceful, like being submerged in a warm bath. But sometimes the water ran cold, and one woke from a creeping, mounting sensation. Sometimes it was the urge to piss, sometimes it was the rising nausea.
In Thor’s case, currently, it was the mounting sensation pressed against his thigh.
Thor did not know how long he had been asleep, but it was evidently long enough for Loki to have slipped into slumber. At some point they had changed positions to be side-by-side, facing each other. Thor’s brother was peaceful beside him, but there was a single exception to his calm. That exception was hot against Thor’s skin, even with the two layers of cloth between their bodies.
Thor, warm and comfortable and still mildly drunk, had drifted into consciousness while rocking his thigh against Loki’s hardness. When his brain had risen enough to alarm him to what he was doing, Thor slowed. He should not be - this was Loki beneath him, what was his body doing, he should not be - trying to pleasure -
Loki whined, a soft, pitiful mewl drawn from his sleep-slack lips. Thor stared. Loki’s hips jolted beneath him, beseeching, and Thor couldn’t help but draw his thigh forward again until it pressed against Loki and allowed Loki to find friction. Loki sighed in pleasure, hips languidly rolling in small circles, the thick and heavy weight of his cock pressing and rubbing all against Thor’s thigh.
Hm, Thor thought.
Hmmmm, Thor’s hindbrain thought.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!, Thor’s cock thought, standing stiff at attention as if Loki’s arousal had called its name and made it jolt out of its seat. If it weren’t for Thor’s pants containing it, his cock would likely be waving in the air, trying to signal to Loki’s, hello, yes, I am here, would you like to meet?
Alright, Thor decided. Yes, Loki was his brother - his beautiful, lovely, sharp and deadly brother - but was it not Thor’s duty to assist Loki, considering how many times Loki had done so for him? Granted, Loki usually helped Thor by keeping him from dying or by swooping him from awkward and potentially disastrous diplomatic situations, rather than by drunkenly helping Thor get off.
Thor swallowed thickly. If Loki had offered that… Thor would have enjoyed it. Greatly.
It was this thought that propelled Thor into reaching down toward Loki’s trousers. Thor kept his eyes on his brother’s face, watching intently for any sign that Loki would awaken. He slowly unlaced Loki’s trousers, and when he pulled the cloth apart, Loki’s cock arced out to slap at his belly.
With a shaking hand, Thor gripped his brother’s cock. Loki was thick, the tip wet and sticky. Thor dragged his thumb over the slit and watched Loki’s mouth pant out a sigh. Thor bit his lip.
Loki was deep into sleep. He didn’t even know what Thor was doing, would never even know, perhaps. If Thor touched him gently, made sure Loki did not awaken, then whatever pleasures Thor brought his brother now would be a secret only Thor knew.
The thrill of it coursed through Thor’s body, his blood pumping.
He kept one hand stroking Loki’s cock while the other pulled down Thor’s own trousers. Thor wriggled the cloth down, dragging it over the curve of his ass and thighs, leaving the trousers loose around his knees. He then let go of Loki’s cock (sadly) and flipped himself over. His heart pounding, Thor scooted his way backwards until finally, finally, he felt the thick heat pressed against the cleft of his ass. Thor’s cock was hard and weighty, ready to weep from the arousal surging through Thor’s veins.
Thor rubbed against Loki’s cock, stifling a moan as he felt it slip between his thighs, rub between his cheeks. He hadn’t prepared himself - there was no way Loki could actually fuck into him, breach him, spread Thor’s hole open as his cock stuffed him fully - especially without Loki waking. But every time Loki’s cock grazed against Thor’s hole, Thor’s heart pounded harder, hole twitching with the desire to invite the teasing visitor inside.
Loki made soft little noises of pleasure, sleepily rolling his hips. In his slumber, he had no idea how close he was to slipping his cock into his older brother, taking his older brother the way no man ever had. Loki didn’t know that Thor was panting, fantasizing about the sticky head of Loki’s cock and desperately trying to shift his hips to get just the right angle where Loki might thrust just a bit too hard and breach Thor, just a bit, just a little bit - Thor would be satisfied just with the slit of Loki’s cock resting against Thor’s hole, so that when Loki came, his seed would spurt directly against Thor’s most intimate place, perhaps some of his come even shooting inside of Thor, taking Thor and claiming him even when Loki’s cock had not -
Thor knew when Loki woke because the movements suddenly ceased, and Thor’s keening whine was the only sound in the room.
“What,” Loki said, voice rough.
“Loki,” Thor sobbed. “Brother.” He thrust his ass back in plea, rubbing shamelessly up and down Loki’s length.
Loki was quicksilver. Loki was flashes of insight, and twists of whims; he darted to and fro, ever unpredictable and difficult to capture. His thoughts always ran quickly, and Loki had trained his body to react to those lightning thoughts in split seconds.
It was with this such decision-making that it only took Loki a mere second to clap his hands to Thor’s hips, bruising in their power, and shove him away. Thor wanted to cry - his eyes had already been teary with drunken desire and desperation, but now his heart, too, surged to battle for dominance over the flood levels of his eyes - yet a moment later, Thor was shoved face-down onto the bed, and Loki’s heavy weight settled on top of him.
“You violated me in my sleep,” Loki said.
There was no denying it. Thor had no choice but to whisper, “Yes.”
“Why?” Loki’s voice was sharp, cracking against Thor’s ears like a whip. “Are you so desperate for cock that you would seek even your own brother?”
“No.” Thor trembled beneath Loki. He could not express how much he had always - his own brother, so slender, so beautiful, intelligent and cunning - how he had dreamed of Loki besting him, taking him, smirking as he unraveled Thor and made him moan like a wanton whore -
But these thoughts all ceased when Thor felt the press of the hot head of Loki’s cock against him. “Perhaps I ought to violate you in return, and teach you a lesson,” Loki said, but even as he spoke such cruel words, he traced a spell; Thor’s ass became loose, his hole wet and slick, and Loki easily sank the tip of his cock into Thor’s pliant and greedy hole.
Thor sobbed as Loki pushed in, his cock driving deeper and deeper into Thor until the entire length was sheathed. Thor had never felt so full, so used. He had only used his own fingers, thinking of Loki - the cock was a new sensation, and his inner walls gripped at it hungrily, wanting to discover and keep the delicious offering inside them.
“It seems that I’ve found a new home for my cock,” Loki said, as he drew back and pounded all the way back in. The force of his thrusts rocked Thor’s face into the bed, and Thor’s cock drooled messily into the sheets.
“Yes, yes,” Thor keened, raising his ass to meet Loki’s thrusts.