It’s quite an impressive vessel, The Statesmen, loaded generously with supplies ranging from necessity to luxury. A more than adequate ship for their people, his people, Thor thinks. There’s no want for space—feasibly, every individual could secure a room for themselves. Thor knows this, but he doesn’t make a point of mentioning it when Loki lingers in the thunderer’s assigned bedroom.
Loki’s still donning his stylish attire from Sakaar, while Thor has manifested sleepwear for himself. Despite their earlier conversation, his brother restlessly moves around the room, subtly standoffish in his exploring.
In a few hours, Thor will need to rise and help distribute rations. They both will have to help. But their truce is freshly refurbished, so fragile, and Thor wants no stone to be left unturned. “You must be quite uncomfortable, brother,” the blond observes, disappearing into the bathroom. In less time expected, Thor works out how to turn on the facet. Typically he’d include a blend of some sort in their baths, for Loki’s pleasure, but there are none to be found in the cupboards.
Thor returns to the bed as he waits for the water to fill the tub. Unsurprisingly, it seems Loki needs more convincing. “Would you like me to help you?”
At that, the trickster sits down with him with more shyness than he has the right to exude. Thor undresses him slowly, without rush. It’s been awhile since they’ve seen each other bare, let alone shared a bath together. But it didn’t used to be so irregular... That’s exactly what Thor would like to rekindle: their kinship, intimacy, bond. His wishes aren’t too unreasonable.
They both easily fit in the tub with room to spare, but Thor quickly maneuvers his brother so they are back-to-front. He wets Loki’s hair slowly, inefficiently, enjoying the feeling and view of the thick strands running between his fingers. “They took your braid,” Thor comments offhandedly. “I hadn’t thought of it until much later, after it’d been sheared.” He isolates a lock. “Should I take one now, in advance, because you might be gone by the time I can grow mine out again?”
Loki shivers unpleasantly. “No,” he declares with a soft tone of voice, hand wrapping around Thor’s right calf. “I’ll be here with you. I... Can’t imagine leaving, after this. I don’t desire it.”
“Oh, well, if you don’t desire it,” Thor remarks unkindly, sick of his own feelings cast aside for the conveniency of his brother. “Then it shan’t occur.”
In response, Loki squeezes Thor’s leg. “It almost sounds like you’re mocking me, brother.” Although turned around, the thunderer can tell by the stretch of his brother’s jawline that Loki is smiling.
Thor leans forward and kisses the back of his neck. “Never.” He continues washing, lathering Loki’s hair before moving onto his body. They are no stranger to each other, but it has been so painfully long since Loki’s been like this—in reach, both meteorically and literally. Thor traces his pointer finger along Loki’s shoulder blades in appreciation.
After Thor’s banishment, after New York, it was these moments like these with his brother Thor lamented taking for granted. No longer was Loki mere rooms away, poised gracefully over a book; no longer fighting beside him in battle with clever tricks and sharp knives; no longer clutching the end of his red cape uneasily as they adventured. Those memories are difficult to keep unsoiled by Loki’s cruel admissions on the Rainbow Bridge, admissions in New York. Thor’s seen his brother in many states: petty, hysterical, psychotic. Over the centuries it’s become easier to differentiate Loki’s calculated lies from his unfathomable truths. Thor feels endlessly responsible for his brother’s descend into madness, there was surely more he could’ve done. Where would they be now, if things had been resolved between them sooner?
“I had wondered,” Loki murmurs, drawing Thor out of his pensive thoughts, “for the longest time... Why F—Odin chose this glamour for me. I had never looked anything like you, or him, or Mother. I felt before that it was an insult to me, that it wasn’t enough for him that I was unusual in other ways...” Thor pauses in his ministrations of massaging Loki’s back to stretch his fingers. “I see now that it wasn’t about me. He picked me up and thought of her, recreating the first frame of reference he had for a child of his own.”
Thor thinks the resemblance fleetingly crossed his mind too, but he was too preoccupied with other things to come to such a conclusion. He lovingly rubs the knobs of Loki’s spine. “It usually isn’t about you,” the thunderer quips.
Refreshingly, Loki laughs, as opposed to wallowing in his bitterness and anger. “That realization has helped tremendously the past few hours.”
There is no detectable sign that Loki’s skin is not his own. As he gently scrubs the porcelain flesh, Thor can hardly believe it’s all an allusion. He’s known Loki his entire life as brunette, a pale vixen with emerald eyes. During no point in time has Thor observed Loki in his ‘true form’, (can it be considered that, when it’s the appearance—out of several—Thor’s most unfamiliar with?) and shouldn’t the glamour had been released when Odin passed? Thor furrows his brows. “It is under your control now?” he means to state, but the inflection is too strong.
“Yes. It’s much easier to shapeshift now he no longer has a fixed hold on my appearance.” Thor stores this information for later, because there’s no doubt his brother will use this lifted restraint to his advantage. “But it is strange this form is no longer the ‘default’, as it were...”
Thor wraps his arms around Loki’s waist, pulling his little brother closer with care to not cut off his blood flow too much. He nuzzles his beautiful marble neck, enjoying the way Loki’s back arches in response to his beard. “You’ve never been one to hide the fluidity of your body, brother, and it is a quality I find most becoming. But I hope there soon comes a day you will let me lay eyes upon you, as you were born, without the looming threat of insecurity and self-disgust.”
The trickster is quiet for a very long time. Eventually, he turns around and motions for Thor to do the same. For the first time in years, Loki massages his scalp with thin, soapy fingers. It’s heavenly.
“It is not a completion we were raised to appreciate, Thor.” Loki’s hands curiously stroke the sides of his brother’s shaved head, unused to seeing the distinct shape of his skull and having little hair to work with. “I can’t imagine it provoking desire in you.”
Thor rumbles with soft laughter, the vibration against Loki’s fingers not dissimilar to the mild voltage Thor’s powers send through the atmosphere. “You clearly underestimate my desire for you, then.”
Feeling Loki expertly uncoil the knots in his back takes Thor back to the day before his would-be Coronation, the last time they shared a bath. Loki has since made no effort to hide his apparent unhappiness with the thunderer, with a offhanded jab or otherwise, so maybe his brother wasn’t completely miserable during what Thor considers ‘the good times’. That’s what terrifies him the most, the idea Thor’s favorite memories with Loki were completely one-sided.
“Midgard will not care much about your desire for me,” Loki comments, sounding almost apathetic if it weren’t for the subtle undertone of fear Thor latches onto.
“You let me worry about the logistics of our habitation, brother,” Thor responds dismissively, which strikes a cord with Loki, who can only think of the days where the thunderer rushed into everything without thinking of the consequences that awaited him.
“The logistics are I am a war criminal on their planet, and they have every right to refuse or apprehend—“
Without warning Thor spins around, somehow managing not to twist either of their limbs in uncomfortable ways with minimal splash-age. “You will not be apprehended.” The blond grabs Loki’s shoulders tightly, their faces only inches away from each other. “I am not letting—You are staying, do you not understand? With me, with our people! If I can’t make them amenable to your residency, we will simply find someplace else. I am not leaving you behind.”
Loki has heard many similar proclamations in many similar positions in the past, but he’s still driven away his brother a handful of times. Whether it’s been in the dungeons of Asgard or the Grandmaster’s shipyard, Thor has left him behind. But those were hardly unwarranted responses, and Loki can’t expect the same undying fidelity out of his brother he could when they were younger, blindly loyal with no bad blood between them. Back then, it was so easy to let Thor love him. Why does it feel impossible now? Would it be so bad, to be held again, and reopen his heart to the man who most deserves it?
Thor’s hands slide back underneath the water, feeling the expansion and decompression of Loki’s ribs to remind himself that he’s not alone. Loki’s staring at him in a way that Thor has never seen, green eyes wide with awe and affection, but also weary and hesitant to pursue whatever he’s thinking about. Thor’s got an idea what that may be, his own eyes dropping to Loki’s open mouth.
Before he can close the distance, Loki’s hand comes up to caress the side of his face Thor’s lost vision. The trickster hums thoughtfully, thumb just nicking the scorned flesh around Thor’s eye. Before the blond realizes what’s happening, Loki has encased his entire socket with the palm of his hand, muttering a vaguely familiar incantation under his breath. Less than a minute later, when Loki’s hand pulls away, Thor can see the right side of the room.
“I had just mastered putting on my eyepatch,” Thor complains.
Loki rolls his eyes, smiling in spite of it. “I can undo it, if you so desire.” He looks down to Thor’s chest, hand not innocently feeling the hard muscle.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Thor leans forward and catches his brother’s lips in a passionate kiss. He clutches Loki’s hips meaningfully, sighing as the comforting flavor he knows so well greets his tongue. Their romps weren’t typically fueled by jealousy and anger, but as the thunderer runs his hands over Loki’s body he can’t help but think of Saakar. He pulls away and grabs the underside of his brother’s craned neck with only a hair of unnecessary pressure. “You let him have you. The Grandmaster.”
Loki is nothing but amused, despite his position. “I had started to think you were less perceptive than I thought,” he replies. “Regardless, seduction was my best play, and he wasn’t a completely selfish lover—“
Thor suddenly has him in his arms, sloshing about a considerable amount of water as he hurries out of the bathroom with his prize. Loki relishes the attention, the desire, radiating off of the blond so potently. Between the many partners Loki’s experienced—for power or pleasure or protection—Thor has been the only one to make him feel treasured and important, instead of filthy and desperate.
Loki is only on the bed for a moment alone before the thunderer follows after, looming over him with the raunchiest of looks. His hands feel around Loki’s torso, where they tend to start, torn between feeling the minute swell of his breasts and the pale ribs quivering under his attention. Thor scoots down to lave Loki’s collarbone with an enthusiastic mouth, drawing out moans of pleasure from his little brother. His noises are more fulfilling than victory on the battlefield.
“Let me lay with you, Loki, please,” Thor pants unattractively in his ear, reminiscent of a canine in the way he presses his erection against Loki’s thigh. “I cannot go without your touch any longer—“
Spreading his legs, Loki blushes with a quiet, “Please.” He’s not usually so virginal, especially with Thor, but it’s been such an emotional few days and so long since his brother has bed him.
Thor wastes no time sitting up, hands finding the back of Loki’s thighs so he can hoist him up. Loki grunts as he’s positioned, cock perking up with interest as Thor moves his face to the juncture of the trickster’s legs. He kisses a protruding hipbone before licking the underside of Loki’s manhood. “You are so divine, my lovely brother,” Thor waxes, squeezing the meat of Loki’s thighs. “Otherworldly in your beauty.”
When his brother engulfs his cock, Loki whines long and loud. It’s a rarely had sensation, as the brunette is bed exclusively by males and they seldom pay his cock attention, let alone suck it. Loki’s toes curl as Thor moves up and down, watching the range of expressions Loki makes.
Carefully continuing to support Loki’s weight, Thor allows one hand to remain stationary as he itches to pleasure his brother with the other. He runs a thick finger over the blooming lips of Loki’s cunt, pleased to find it wet to the touch. Loki squirms and pants at the initial contact, absolutely spasming when Thor finds the plump bud at the apex and rubs it with slow circles. “Oh, Thor!” Loki puts a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to quiet himself, much to the blond’s displeasure. “Ah!”
Cum fills Thor’s mouth shortly after, and he milks his brother for another moment before pulling off. He swallows, free hand grabbing the back of Loki’s left knee for leverage as he dives for a taste of the glistening flesh begging for him to sample.
Loki can barely handle the intensity. Thor’s beard feels amazing against the sensitive folds of his vulva, the thunderer’s tongue dipping in and out of his entrance with haste. He instinctually makes to wrap his legs around Thor’s head, but is kept in place. “Thor, Thor, Thor,” Loki moans throatily, jutting his hips forward to hump against his face. “Take me, oh, take me.”
The smell and taste of Loki’s cunt is almost too hard to part ways with, but Thor, ever the hero, manages the sacrifice. Loki’s legs are more malleable than gold as the blond spreads them further, cock bouncing comically as he scoots forward. Loki’s entranced, ravenous at the sight of Thor’s thick, flushed erection. “Yes, brother, fill me!”
Thor guides himself into Loki thoughtlessly, sure he’s now less wet from the bath and more wet from the sweat he’s producing. They moan in unison as penetration is achieved, the thunderer snapping his hips desperately not a second after. Loki is clinging onto his forearm, looking positively wretched underneath him, and it’s glorious. Thor must kiss him, so he does.
They make love brutally, scratching and bruising each other, but it is no different than their other displays of love. Their love is violent and passionate, yearning for more and never settling for less. They love how they fight, which can only mean the two are in direct relation, and cannot exist without the other. If Thor wasn’t so distracted by the warm, ruffled insides of Loki’s cunt, he’d shed a tear at the revelation. Instead, he pounds lovingly into his brother, pulling away from their kiss with a lewd smack to whisper pleadingly in Loki’s ear, “Don’t ever leave me again, please. Never.”
Loki wraps his arms around Thor’s back and pulls him impossibly closer. “Never, I want this, you.” He sounds eight-hundred again. “Please, by your side forever.”
“Yes, yes,” Thor promises, biting Loki’s neck as he finally reaches his climax. He can feel the telltale clench and unclench of Loki’s womanhood while ejaculating, thus has no qualms rolling over to pant after he’s too sensitive to thrust any longer. In his euphoria, the blond gathers up Loki and intertwines their fingers. Kissing his beautiful brother’s dainty ear, he affirms, “I’m not letting you slip away from me again.”