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A Debt Repaid

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Loki nuzzled happily into the warm cotton that clung to Thor’s chest but cringed as the sound of snoring drowned out the morning birdsong - poor things never stood a chance.

 

He had a vague recollection of his brother clattering about in the middle of the night, knocking over a pile of books in the dark as he made his way blindly to the bed. Goodness knows how their parents hadn’t found out about them, Thor was unable to employ any of his hunter’s stealth while carrying out late night missions to his rooms.

It wasn’t sexual companionship that he sought last night though. Thor had done this a few times throughout the winter: awakening in the small hours, cold and shivery, and venturing into Loki’s chambers in search of nothing more than warmth.

Thor had peeled back the covers, clambered up onto the bed - hissing as he stubbed his toe on the walnut frame of the four-poster, much to Loki’s silent amusement - and buried himself beneath the silk sheets, lying on his back, his larger body inches from Loki’s own - all but his pinky, which had tentatively reached out and found his, curling around it almost childishly.

Through all this, Loki had feigned sleep, but, after several minutes of Thor’s intermittent sighs and the feeling of that cold finger wrapped around his, had been unable to doze guiltlessly and had finally succumbed, turning over and snuggling into him. Thor had immediately thrown an arm around him and clutched him close, arranging Loki’s skinny legs about his strong thighs, and making soft noises of approval as they settled together comfortably.

 

The snoring ceased when Loki began to play with the laces of his brother’s nightshirt and touched the thin sliver of exposed sun-kissed skin that they criss-crossed over, rousing him from his slumber; he would be lying if he said that wasn’t at least part of his intention.

 

Meanwhile, Thor awoke to the feeling of slender limbs tangled with his own and small fingers fidgeting around his collarbone. There was no greater contentment than having his little brother’s body pressed against him in the mornings; it made his heart feel full. He fumbled around for Loki’s hand with his eyes closed and when he found it, took it in his and brought it to his mouth, planting a chaste kiss on his knuckle and smiling dreamily before laying it flat against him once more.

 

Just when Loki thought that they might share a few moments of peace together, his hand, still in his brother’s grasp, began to slowly traverse the bedclothes that covered Thor’s youthful but impressive body, running over the mild swell of his resting pectoral muscles, across the plane of his abdomen, and down his navel, until it reached the proud morning wood that bulged beneath the cotton.   

 

Loki puffed in amused disbelief, pointedly making no attempt to hold it, or caress it, or otherwise engage with it through the fabric - not because he didn’t want to, but purely on principle. And as expected, Thor mistook his non-compliance with a lack of comprehension, lifting the hem of his nightshirt and sneaking his hand underneath, bringing Loki’s thin fingers to enclose around the rigid heat of his erection so as to make his intentions known.

 

“Tsk, Thor,” he chided, looking up to see a big dopey smile on his brother’s face, eyelids lightly shut.

 

“I’m hard.” Thor announced dumbly, his voice rough from sleep.

 

“I would never have guessed, Brother. And so…?”

 

“I thought I would let you know-”

 

“Mm-hm.”  

 

“-In case you wanted to play with it.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”

 

Thor’s smile widened as he made a soft ‘hmph’ of satisfaction.

 

He didn’t know if Thor was being cheeky or if he genuinely believed his cock to be such a priority to him, but really, it wasn’t worth the discussion. If he were honest, it took little effort to bring his brother off when he awoke like this. He also enjoyed the recognition of his skills for a change and, much to his stubborn denial of the fact, it felt good to make Thor happy.

 

Loki tutted and waved Thor’s hand off, running his fingertips over the veiled tip to see if his brother had been able to push out any precome for him. That which hadn’t soaked through Thor’s bedclothes - wetly grazing the back of his wrist - had already pooled amply in the pucker of his foreskin and was dribbling down the sides; he shouldn’t need any spit.

Familiar with Thor’s preferred methods of masturbation, his feel, and his…dimensions, he drew back his foreskin without a need to look, letting the dewy liquid coat his fingers as he curled them around him (his grip never quite fitting around the girth) and began to rhythmically tug and twist at his cock.

 

“Mmm, you’re good at that,” Thor remarked after a moment, carding his fingers gently through black hair.

 

Loki did like a compliment, so decided to reward his brother for his efforts. He wiggled out of Thor’s embrace and shimmied down between his legs, lifting the material that draped around his hand and exposing Thor’s penis to the hazy morning light that permeated his balcony drapes. It did look rather delicious, especially as it was only just exposed by his nightshirt, a virginal white fabric that now settled directly above his tanned thighs and flushed, fat cock. Loki licked his lips and hunkered down, taking the head in his mouth and sucking on it - gently but with dedication - continuing to stroke him while bobbing up and down in a motion used in no other context than performing oral sex on his elder brother.

 

Thor groaned loudly and peeked at him beneath lowered, blond lashes. “Gods, Loki…” he rumbled, letting his eyelids flutter shut again and spreading his legs further apart.

 

Encouraged, Loki swallowed deeper until Thor’s cock tickled his tonsils. It was a bit early in the morning for taking him anywhere near his throat, and he choked a little, his eyes watering as he persevered, but Thor didn’t seem to notice, breaking the silence with soft ‘uh’s’, and between them, mumbling something under his breath that sounded supportive.

 

Fondling Thor’s balls as a distraction (as they always loved the attention), he finally wrested himself from him with a cough, several ropes of sticky saliva tethering his open mouth to his brother’s dark, gleaming crown. Ever the opportunist, he used it to slick him up and sharply began jerking him with lewd, wet, slapping sounds.

He moved his mouth in for a second attempt when, suddenly, Thor’s sac drew up tight and he ejaculated with a grunt, abrupt squirts of pearlescent fluid splattering his face as Thor thrust into his palm several times before stilling. Loki was stunned.

 

“Mmmm, thaawasnice,” Thor garbled, closing his legs around him and squeezing in thanks before giving a long sigh and relaxing his limbs, threatening to go back to sleep.

 

“Thoooor!”

 

Thor dipped his chin, opened his eyes and began to laugh, low and deep. “Oh-ho, look at you, Brother, all covered in my milk.”

 

“Hmph, you might have at least given me some warning.”

 

“I’m sorry, Loki,” said Thor, sitting up in bed and trying to sound regretful, “By the time I realised that I was ready to spill, it was too late. I couldn’t stop it,” he added. As though he were the victim.  

Loki rubbed at his cheeks while Thor shuffled closer and reached out to wipe his chin, fussing over him - their mother used to do that when they were little and covered in berry juice, and the parallel between that innocent time and his brother now cleansing him of his sperm made him blush. Thor chortled at a little droplet on his nose, removing it with his thumb, then prodding him on the tip and making an infantile ‘doop’ sound. Loki repressed a smile. “Don’t be such a child, Brother,” he complained, but not unkindly. He looked at his dirty hands and sighed. “I need to bathe.”

 

His brother offered him a lazy smile and ruffled his short, dark, already bed-mussed hair.

 

“I need to pee,” Thor responded drowsily, wiping the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles.

 

He threw his legs over the side of bed, planting his feet on the cold stone floor for several seconds before finally mustering the motivation to stand. He stretched his arms up over his head, muscles flexing tensely then slackening as he yawned - loudly and indecorously.

 

Loki wriggled onto his front, lying on his tummy. He rested his chin on interlaced fingers and gently kicked his legs back and forward.

 

“Can I watch?” he asked cheerfully, briefly forgetting why he had been in a strop.

 

Thor arched a curious blond eyebrow. “You fancy a peek, do you?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind.”

 

Thor gave a soft huff of laughter. Well, of course Loki would want such a thing. Even though Thor would try his hardest to interest him; telling him elaborate tales of beasts and magic; bringing him obscure relics from his adventures; and even letting Loki try new spells on him…when he could live with the possibility of being a goat for the day, it was something like this, something bafflingly simple and wholly unpredictable that would captivate his difficult audience.

 

“Shall I use the chamber pot then?” he asked.

 

“Yes please.”

 

Loki watched as Thor pulled the bronze pot from beneath the bed and across the floor so that it was within his line of sight, the metal scraping against the brickwork.

Thor made no ado about it, surprisingly and yet… unsurprisingly comfortable with performing the act in front of him. He simply grasped the front of his nightshirt and lifted it up, gathering it around his waist and pinning it to himself with his elbows (graciously doing so to offer a good view and to show off his dark blond pubic hair - an obsession of Loki’s), before retreating back a little from the pot.

 

Loki’s gently waving limbs stilled as he focused on the large flaccid cock, pendulous between his big brother’s thighs - like a bull’s. Intimidating as it was, its motions amused him, heavily swinging a split-second after each of Thor’s movements as though it were trying to keep up but never quite managing - a striking contrast to the unyielding state it was in mere moments ago; it was probably tired, he thought, he would let it snuggle up against him later for a doze.

 

Casually, Thor held himself with one hand, then seemed to change his mind and instead held it with both, parting his legs slightly for a more grounded stance and aiming at bowl.

 

It took a moment, but as Thor let out the first in a series of experimental bursts of urine, Loki felt his face grow hot and his body react with tell-tale signs of arousal.

 

The more steady stream began with a slightly unpredictable arch, but Thor had clearly allowed for the possibility of that, directing it so that it didn’t stray too far from the centre of the pot, tinkling lightly against its base like a modest amount of wine being poured into a goblet. As Thor became more confident and the flow became more fierce however, it travelled in a straighter line, the torrent making a lower, resounding noise in the round metal, more akin to a generous ale tapped from a cask into a tankard. It suited Thor better, almost everything he did was loud and powerful…and this, this was a strong, masculine piss.

 

While entranced by the sight, he glanced up to find a look of deep concentration on Thor’s face. He must have felt his gaze because their eyes met and they both smiled impishly at one another. His brother may seem unconcerned with the whole thing, but Loki knew fine well that he was trying to impress.  

He looked back down and watched as Thor continued…and continued. It fixated him. Thor’s bladder, having filled though the night unalleviated, made the quantity substantial, while a lack of fresh fluids tinged it with gold.

After almost a full minute, it eventually slowed to stop, the last few dribbles hitting the edge of the pan and one or two stragglers falling from Thor’s tip and staining the stone beneath. His brother gave a ‘whoops’ and a chuckle then shook his cock with a funny flap (making Loki giggle), letting his nightshirt drop back down quickly and without ceremony, as if to say ‘done’.

 

“Good?” Thor asked.

 

“Good.”

 

Thor nodded. “Good,” he confirmed, the repetition of a single word more than enough to convey their feelings on the matter.

 

Although it was doubtlessly due to mere curiosity, Thor fantasised that Loki was hard right now, that his dainty little cock was pushing into the mattress beneath him. Perhaps his pussy was equally stirred, damp from all the excitement, slippery, and ready for a gentle morning finger, or better yet-

 

“What are you grinning about?” Loki cooed, snapping Thor out of his thoughts.

 

“Hm? Oh, I was-” Thor clicked his fingers and frowned. “Damn.” He suddenly grabbed his clothes from a nearby chair and began yanking them on. “I just remembered, my friends and I were to meet for a hunting trip.”

 

“What? Now?” Loki yipped.

 

“No, at dawn. They’ve no doubt been waiting an hour or more.” Thor entered the bathroom, leaving the door open, and scrubbed at his teeth with the linen cloth and herb paste.

 

Loki scowled. “My heart bleeds.

 

“Aww, ‘on’t ee like ‘at, ‘oki,” Thor replied, spitting into the basin. “You were invited.”

 

“I would rather be in the company of a pack of starved wild dogs,” he huffed.

 

Thor re-entered the room, holstered his hunting blade and smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true. They like you.”

 

“Sif said I would weigh you down. She called me a child.”

 

“Sif was only teasing. And do you remember what I said?” Thor asked as he perched on the side of the bed. “I said that you were smarter than she knew, and quicker than she expected. We had almost left the palace grounds before she realised that her blade was missing.”

 

Loki puffed himself up proudly. “Served her right.”

 

“It certainly did. Next time though, we’ll go hunting together, just the two of us. Bring home some prizes…and maybe have a little frolic in the wilderness.” Thor gave him a wink. “Speaking of which, I didn’t…return this morning’s favour.”

 

“It’s alright, I like it when you owe me. You can pay me back…with interest.”

 

“You always have my interest.” Thor smiled, cupping his jaw in his hands and pecking his forehead. He smelled of sage and mint.

 

Loki wasn’t sure if his brother was making a joke or if he genuinely didn’t understand the rules of sexual taxation, but nevertheless, he wouldn’t go unreminded of his debt.

 

Thor, noticing a distinct lack of revulsion at his previous romantic gesture, decided to push his luck, pressing a wet, slobbery kiss to Loki’s closed lips.

 

“Eww, Thorrr.”

 

“Heh. I’ll see you when I return,” Thor said, standing and making for the door.

 

“You had better hurry back or you won’t be able to afford me,” Loki blurted out, blushing as he realised that it sounded an awful lot like: ‘Don’t be gone too long or I’ll miss you.’ He looked down and idly fiddled with his nails.

 

“I’ll come home when I’ve brought down something big and ugly.”

 

“Your ego?” Loki offered.

 

“I’ll settle for a boar.”

 

“I already have one in my life, I don’t need another thank you very much.”

 

Thor grinned, bowed as if flattered, and exited the room, leaving him on the bed, alone with his thoughts - his dirty thoughts.

 

He stared at the floor as he replayed the image of his brother standing over the chamber pot with his bedclothes rucked up around his waist, and smiled; the highlight of his day so far.

 

He wasn’t exactly sure when it had become a point of sexual intrigue.

 

He remembered when they were younger and spent long afternoons playing outside; without the luxury of a receptacle, Thor would often whip himself out and wee in the bushes or against a wall, and Loki would steal furtive glances as he did. Curiosity, he reckoned, nothing more.

 

He recalled, in particular, a time when they were in the forest and Thor was chattering about some hideous creature in a nearby cave that apparently ate anyone who ventured within. His brother had rustled beneath his red tunic, unbuttoned his britches, and had proceeded to urinate against a tree, all while continuing to talk to him as Loki stared at the liquid spouting from the end of his willy, creating a dark, damp patch on the dry bark.

 

“...We should see if we can find the nasty beast” Thor had suggested, watching his own steady stream. “It would be a great story at the very least, don’t you think, Brother?…Brother?”

 

“…I’m not sure I want to find something that eats people…” Loki had murmured, distracted. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

 

“Heh heh, watching me pee, are you, Loki?” Thor had asked smugly. “I don’t blame you, it’s a good one. I’ve needed it for a while. I could wee the mud off your boots if you like,” he had grinned, quickly turning to him, the flow tapering slightly from the height and hitting Loki’s black boots, the drizzle making a low pitter-patter as it struck leather.

 

“Thoooor!” Loki had squawked, snatching it back, “That’s disgusting!”

 

Thor had only laughed.

 

Loki smiled as he remembered. What he would give to have Thor pee on his boots now…or somewhere else…

 

Maybe his muscular, elder brother would crowd him against the courtyard wall when nobody was around. Thor would loom over him, dipping his head down to tell him how naughty he had been…tell him that he was going to teach him a lesson. Then, he would hear the rustle of leather as Thor undid his trousers, took out that big, soft cock of his, looked down…and pissed against his crotch, soaking and staining his leggings, the rest dripping onto the pale stone below, marking it. He would push uselessly at strong arms, but be powerless to stop it, able to do nothing but wait it out as Thor emptied himself on him…

He liked the idea, but highly doubted that Thor would ever do it, he was far too sweet for that, far too loving, and really, Loki was glad.

 

Perhaps they might do it at the same time, over the toilet bowl, after a morning spar. They would watch each other to start with, comparing their streams, then Thor would playfully nudge his cockhead against his, joining their tips, rubbing them together and pissing into one another’s slits, their urine mingling and splashing between them. That sounded more like something they would do.

 

If he was feeling wicked, however, he might get Thor drunk on ale - he wasn’t allowed to drink yet, but his brother was, and when he did, he always needed to go. Loki would wait for him to return from the feasting hall, perched on the toilet seat naked, and tell Thor that if he needed that badly, he’d have to do it on him…or, better yet, in his mouth. Thor would protest, but he would be so desperate that he wouldn’t have a choice. Loki would wrap his small lips around him and swallow the bountiful offering straight from his cock while Thor whined pitifully, then he would let it slip from him so that the flow would hit his chest, cascading down his tummy and onto his willy, which would go stiff at the feeling, if it wasn’t already…no wait…more than that. He would slump down and raise his hips so that Thor would piss against his pussy, no, in his pussy, he would grab Thor’s cock and stuff the limp thing inside himself, just a little, so that his pee spilled into him and leaked out the sides.

He dropped his head back into the pillow, grinning at his own mischief, rock hard. But it was too crude a ploy, even for him, and if it backfired, he may ruin his chances entirely. No, there was a simpler way.

He would just…ask.

A dull proposal to be sure, but one that may be better appreciated. That said, there was no guarantee of success. While Thor usually treated his notions with good nature and often eager willingness, taking it from this morning’s ‘peeing in front of him’ to ‘peeing inside of him’ was a transition that even his shameless brother might be daunted by.

 

…But if he were never to ask, then he would certainly never find out...and there was a debt to be repaid.