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Fandral hit him.

It was so sudden, even the God of Mischief didn't expect it. Really. Maybe his mate was evolving and Fandral always seemed, while extremely attractive (mhm. It could not be the beard, Loki lies to himself, but it partly was...)... Fandral always seemed too stable. Too sane.

And so, Loki grinned, a grin that sparkled in his eyes as well.

Fandral seemed even more upset now.

"What is this madness, my Prince?"

Loki smiled softly. So this was a new kind of foreplay. Fandral has only ever called him 'my prince' once, two years ago. And then, they kissed.

They haven't managed to replicate the deed yet. What they had, it was like a smoke. And fire was somehow rarely in sight, and somehow, easily distinguished at contact.

So now, Loki grabbed Fandral, and threw him onto an illusory bed he's just made.

A table in reality, which Fandral knew as well as his prince.

They kissed again, like they meant it, but then, again, something was wrong with Loki's body. Again. Again and again!

"I'm getting used to the fact that you're a dead fish, love. We can do it first time anyway. Wait.. My prince, don't tell me you're a virgin???"

Loki sighed.

"My knight, I shan't tell you I'm a virgin. And if I were?"

Fandral pushed him down again.

"Oh, something could be arranged, my young prince. But cannot you ever get not cold?"

Loki blushed furiously.

Fandral shivered and stood up from the bed. And sneezed.

They both laughed at that.

"Why did you hit me?"

Fandral frowned.

"You barely get excited when you see me. However, when you see your brother, it's like the gates of Valhalla have opened and all your ancestors invited you in, while hailing you the greatest hero who's ever lived."

Loki wrinkled his nose.

"Fandral, I will split your skull in half if you sayeth- if you imagine that-"

"No, that is not my meaning! You don't love him. True."

Calming down, Loki busied himself with nuzzling Fandral's chest. Now that his lover went back to his side and laid down. This was so refreshing, although, slightly too warm - ah- he couldn't--

This was unbearable if they did nothing, so, suddenly, there was an illusion of handcuffs on Fandral's wrists.

The warrior laughed.

"This? I like it! Finally, a future monarch!"

"Who why again should not execute one of his warriors for hitting him?"

"You might love only me, in a physical way, in this century. I do believe that, with all the relevant parts. However--"

His hand phased through the cuffs, as he sat up.

Loki's lip quivered.

"However...?"

Fandral sighed.

"I cannot make love to a shadow of my friend. I thought you were no longer his shadow. And then I saw the worship for Thor in your eyes. You remember his every word and every breath. If Thor died, you would die."

Loki stared at Fandral, eyes wide.

"If Thor died, you would die. Even if I asked you to stay here, for a century or two, at least. Before you follow your brother. Call me a liar if I be mistaken."

"I'm not attracted to my brother."

Fandral laughed softly. 

"And I, my Prince, am not attracted to the air that fills my lungs. I am not attracted to sunlight. Nor to the water and mead I drink. And if my lover asked me to live in a dark room with no windows, forever, I would refuse him. So I am not cross with you, my prince. Not truly."

Loki sighed and left 'the bed'.

"You're speaking nonsense. I love Thor dearly but I shan't ever desire his frienship. And I will never look at his body. And I can spend a millenium separated from him, if I ever wish it."

Fandral gritted his teeth.

"Liar. You damned liar. You speak truth just to lie to me. Do you think your silvertongue can fool me? I know you don't desire Thor, you are not sick. I know that. What I mean is: you are a child. At your adult age. And. Let us elope. Now. Let's not see Thor again until there is a new war and he needs our help. Maybe in seven years. Maybe in seven hundred. And besides, Loki, do not lie that you burn with any passion for me, you do not. You grow almost as cold as ice any time we try to make love, you damned liar! You're colder than a dead fish! Don't lie that you burn for me, you damned liar! You never did! Never have! So, so, so damned cold, no matter how much passion I do bring! You liar!!! It is as if your damned loins were made of ice, and you claim to love me????!!!! Yet you still claim...???!!!"

Fandral grabbed Loki's neck gently. That felt good, but the words that have just been said, those felt too heavy on him, he could not, and anyway, Loki could feel himself burning with passion, more excited than ever, could feel his very soul burning, and so, why was Fandral lying that Loki was as cold as ice, that was a lie, a lie, because Loki was burning up, he knew that in his very Soul, so why was Fandral lying, but he could not, he must not, he would not--

"...no...!" Loki screamed, surprising himself.

Maybe too loudly. Stupid Brother now has rushed inside, breaking the doors with Mjolnir.

"Loki, I heard you, what-- ah-"

Thor put Mjolnir down, groaning, and looking at something particularly not captivating on the floor.

"Can you not be quieter? Somehow I never hear Hogun and his paramour!"

"My apologies, brother, for having lungs."

Loki pushed his now former paramour, Fandral, away, and left that particular chamber. And never returned there. This room, he could live without.