Loki stared at the green velvet canopy over his bed, drumming his fingers on the mattress. The evening was warm and silent, but it was too warm, too silent, and not even a chapter of his book on the geographical history of Asgard - a soporific read if ever there was one, but one seemingly essential to his education - could bring him any closer to slumber. He considered getting up and pestering Thor - just to annoy him, he reasoned, yet he knew for a fact that he always slept better with his brother’s larger body wrapped around his.
Of course, Thor was probably already asleep. He imagined him currently sprawled on his front, snoring offensively into the pillow - naked no doubt - the globes of his rounded bottom cheekily exposed to the room, his big, soft cock and heavy sac squashed into the covers beneath him but still peeking out between the meat of his splayed thighs.
He smiled at the thought, trying to work out if he found the imagery funny or sexy, unsure as to whether - if forced to choose - he would prod at his ample rump and laugh until Thor laughed too and waved it in his face, giving it a playful slap; or whether he would hunker down between Thor’s legs and suck on the foreskin of his flaccid, trapped length until it began to harden against the furs, listening to his brother groan appreciatively above him. He had partaken in both, and each had its own appeal.
Just then, the door handle turned and a face popped around the corner, barely visible in the dimly lit room, yet unmistakable even so. The man himself.
“You’re still awake,” Thor said in an attempted hushed tone.
“I am,” Loki agreed in the same excessively loud whisper, just to tease him.
Thor stood for a moment in silence with his hands on his hips, clearly waiting for an invitation, but in finding none, crossed his arms over his chest and gave a deep, acknowledging nod. “So am I,” he stated needlessly.
Loki smiled. “It didn’t escape my attention, Brother.” He was mocking him, of course, but a smile, even a wry one, was still a smile, and he knew Thor would consider it a sign that he was welcome.
Thor grinned, closing the door behind him and locking it, then stood at the side of the four-poster. “Can I have a cuddle?”
The question amused Loki. Asides from being incredibly childish, it was clearly asked only as a courtesy, given that Thor had already locked the door and therefore fully intended to spend the night. “Only if you’re good,” he replied with his head held high, as though he were negotiating with a toddler.
Thor gave a snort of laughter. “What constitutes good these days, little brother?”
“Keep still, and stay on your side of the bed.” They were reasonable requests in theory, but Thor found great difficulty fulfilling them in practice.
“Very well,” he said, climbing atop the sheets. “I accept the terms of your surrender.”
Thor grabbed him by the waist and dived into the crook of his neck, attacking with an onslaught of slobbery, wet kisses.
“Agh, Thor, stop that, you animal. You’re covering me in spit,” Loki squealed, pushing Thor’s head back and shooing him away with a few more huffy admonishments - just for effect, he quite liked it. Thor started to chuckle, eventually drawing back and observing his own saliva on him with obvious pride.
When Loki felt that he had scolded Thor adequately, he turned away and curled up on his side, unwilling to let his brother to see how much fun he was having, instead giving a long, exasperated sigh. “I’ll never get to sleep now. You’ve ruined my peace entirely.”
“Apologies. I’ll make it up to you.” Thor propped himself up on an elbow, using his free hand to stroke the soft, black hair at Loki’s temple as he watched him. Loki tilted his head to find Thor staring thoughtfully at the dancing flame of the candle beside the bed. After a few seconds, his brother's eyes narrowed slightly and a smirk formed at his lips. Oh dear, thought Loki, Thor had an idea.
“How about a story?”
“A bedtime story? Really, Thor?” Loki scoffed incredulously.
“What? You think yourself too old for such things? I’m older than you and I love a good story,” Thor proclaimed, full of cheer.
“I think that says less about my maturity than it does about yours.”
“Oh come now, Loki, don’t be so critical. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Thor used to read fairytales to him when they were little, and Loki suspected that he was hoping to evoke the same youthful delight as he once did. Maybe he could. “Why, what is it about?” he asked, mildly curious; perhaps his brother had a very particular tale to tell on this warm summer evening.
Thor gave an extended pause before finally answering. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know’?” Loki squeaked in disbelief. “Surely you had some idea.” But Thor had obviously been so eager to revisit such a nostalgic pastime that he hadn’t stopped to work out the finer details.
“Fear not,” Thor boldly reassured, “For you will hear a tale like no other, the first of its kind in fact.”
This was a mess already. It was true that when they were younger he had always made up his own stories; never satisfied with conventional ‘happily ever afters’, he would have the hero killed off suddenly and in a most grotesque manner; have the star-crossed lovers driven apart by greed and betrayal; or have the slain dragon return to life with a vengeance that saw entire kingdoms burned to the ground, but Thor, no Thor did not possess such creativity, and this was surely a recipe for disaster. Even so, his brother seemed so enthusiastic about the prospect that it would be almost cruel to stop him now - if indeed, he could be stopped at all. “Very well,” he sighed, “Let’s hear it.”
Thor’s expression lit up immediately. He rolled Loki onto his back (and Loki let him) then huddled a little closer, making himself comfortable before taking a deep breath to prepare himself, as though he genuinely thought this would be an epic experience.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “There was a cave. And in that cave lived a ferocious beast-”
“How big was it?” Loki interrupted.
“The cave or the beast?”
“The beast, you dolt, I’m not concerned about the dimensions of its living quarters.”
“Erm…big.” he replied dumbly, and Loki muttered some sarcastic words to himself. “But I’ll get to that later. You see, this beast…” he continued, now utilising his dramatic story-telling voice, “…was never seen. The proof of its existence? Naught but the eerie howls echoing throughout the kingdom on the nights that it feasted, and the mauled but uneaten heads of its victims, thrown from its lair and discovered in the nearby forest at dawn...” Thor paused briefly, clearly awaiting an objection, but Loki was satisfied with this gory detail.
He resumed. “Knights tried to dispose of the creature under orders from the king, but no matter how many ventured into the cave, none returned, and the king - fearing further loss to his ranks - would send no more of his own men. Mercenaries and warriors then followed with the promise of riches, but none succeeded, and as word of their failure spread, less were inclined to try. Citizens in the lowlands continued to fall victim to the beast, and with nobody left to defeat it, panic and fear took hold - those who didn’t flee refused to leave their homes, refused to work. The kingdom was in disarray.”
Loki let his eyelids flutter shut. He may not have felt sleepy, but Thor’s rich timbre was surprisingly soothing and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed visualising such tales with his brother’s warmth at his side.
“Meanwhile, the king’s daughter had been listening to her father’s ongoing discussions on the matter. Now, this princess was intelligent and cunning, but was considered weak and puny, seemingly unfit for even the most innocent of rough and tumble with her peers.” Thor lifted Loki’s arm up in the air by a skinny wrist, waved it about, then dropped it back lifelessly onto the bed and grinned. Loki made a small ‘hmph’ sound and opened his eyes long enough to scowl at Thor before closing them once more.
“Determined to prove her worth and save the kingdom from ruin, she decided to slay the beast herself, and began taking notes on the announcements of its kills, the moments of peace, and the time in between. Eventually she decided that the best time to strike was on the third day following a full moon: it had hunted, it had fed, and it was silent - sleeping no doubt. So she hid a dagger in her stocking, procured a torch, packed a lunch, and set forth.”
“She packed a lunch?” Loki giggled.
“Well, a girl has to eat, hasn’t she?” Thor remarked in mock offence, before mellowing, “It was cake and fruit, if you’re interested.”
“I’m really not,” Loki smiled.
“In any case, it was a trying journey for the princess…especially as she was so unused to physical exertion,” he added, another tease, and Loki knew that his brother could see the unimpressed roll of his eyes beneath their closed lids.
“She finally reached the beast’s domain, and taking her first few steps inside, quickly realised that while daylight still danced bright and true across the fields, it did not reach these parts, consumed almost immediately by darkness. She lit the torch for a better view, and gasped at her surroundings: damp walls splattered with copious bloodstains, giant claw marks etched into the smooth rock in deep scars, and mountains of bones piled as high as the cavern would reach - the remnants of hundreds of men who had all met the same fate in this dank place of death… But she pressed on even so, determined to complete her mission and save her people.”
Quite the heroine, this princess, Loki thought.
“It was at the far side of this particular chamber that she saw the barest hint of silver light emanating from a crumbling archway. This must surely be where the beast slept, she decided, and made her way towards it. And sure enough, when she reached it, there lay the beast in the centre, bathed in the moonlight that shone from an opening high in the rock, fast asleep just as she had predicted.”
“She withdrew the dagger from her stocking and approached the creature, her breath caught in her throat as she regarded it: the animal was wolf-like, but larger than any wolf she had seen - easily bigger than two men, though not as big as three; its pelt was light grey, thick and lustrous - almost shimmering; and its body was strong and healthy, nourished from feeding and muscular from the hunt. The princess was in awe of its majesty. ‘Could this regal beast, sleeping so soundly, truly be responsible for such brutal savagery?’ she wondered. But make no mistake…” Thor warned, letting his pitch drop lower, his voice thick with foreboding. “…It was very dangerous indeed… Yet this brief moment of uncertainty was all it took for the beast to awaken and leap to its feet, alerted by her presence. With a low growl through the clench of its monstrous teeth, it stalked towards the princess, backing her against the wall, leaving her with no escape.
Loki’s closed eyes flitted rapidly back and forth as he pictured the princess scrabbling at the dirty wall, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she was confronted by the terrifying creature.
“She threw her hands up at her face as she could not bear to watch,” Thor continued with increasing intensity. “She began whispering words of prayer to the gods. ‘Not like this, please not like this,’ she begged, bracing herself for the sharp swipe of a claw that would tear her body asunder, readying herself for death, readying herself for-”
Loki awaited the next words with anticipation… but none came.
The room was silent and still.
Just then, the mattress dipped on one side and then the other as he felt Thor slowly crawl on top of him, caging his shoulders in with strong, unmoving arms. He opened his eyes to stare up into those of his brother’s above him, finding the familiar blue all but swallowed by darkness in the meagre light of his chambers, yet at the depths of their core flickered a yellow flame in time with that of the single candle on the nightstand.
“Why have you come here, girl?” Thor snarled, his voice husky and dripping with menace.
The noise caused Loki’s heart to jump with fright, yet the deep gutteral sound rumbled pleasurably through him, giving rise to a feeling that lay somewhere between fear and arousal. His cock grew stiff, and beneath it, his pussy pulsed with excitement; he had never seen his brother like this. For a moment he expected that Thor might end it there - he had given him a good scare after all, and surely that was his intention - but no, he continued to glare at him, hostile and unflinching. Loki knew what this was… or at least he thought he did.
“I-I have come here to bargain with you,” he stuttered, surprised by how feeble his own voice sounded, but more so by the fact that he had responded at all. Was he really going to play this game? Did he really want to know where it led? Well, of course he did: the allure was to great to ignore.
“Is that so?” Thor questioned with a low drawl, narrowing his eyes, thus casting shadows on even the whites so that Loki could scarcely see them at all - only their glassy reflection. “And what can you offer me?”
What indeed? Loki hadn’t been prepared for this turn of events, yet if he were to play, he would have to do so convincingly or not at all. Yes, he was ready.
“Leave my people be and the kingdom will feed you victims of our own choosing: enemies of the crown,” he said firmly then paused, wondering briefly how many might oppose their father if they had even the slightest chance of success, and added, “I assure you, you will never go hungry.”
Thor gave a dark, sinister laugh that rattled in Loki’s belly. “Why would I have need of such an arrangement when I can take who I want without consequence?”
“There will be consequences,” Loki warned. “You will continue to be attacked, and at some point, one will succeed where the others have failed.”
Thor shook his head slowly, seemingly amused, the curtains of his blond hair swaying in front of his face. “I am doubtful of that.”
This wasn’t working, Loki thought, and yet he wondered if that was precisely the point. “I can give you riches, my father is a king.”
“And what would I do with them? Hmm? No.” Thor said resolutely as he dipped into Loki’s neck, nuzzling him below the ear and inhaling loudly and deeply, “No, there is only one thing that I want from you.” He dragged his blunt nails from Loki’s neck down over his nightshirt, and Loki shivered as he raked them up over his erection through the fabric then down again, pushing his hand underneath his gown and easing his fingers between his legs, prying his thighs apart.
He gasped as the fingers, warm and thick, found their way under his sac to the pocket of flesh beneath, and began to stroke the sensitive bud that lay stiffened at its tip. It was then that he noticed the pronounced tent in his brother’s own nightclothes, not one of mild interest, but of full sexual excitement. He knew exactly what Thor wanted but he needed him to say it. “A-And what might that be?” He felt Thor grin against his neck, his teeth grazing his skin, then rising to his ear, breathing hotly against it for several seconds before whispering with an obscene level of clarity: “Your cunt.”
Loki’s pulse quickened and his head juddered on the pillow as he let out a shaky breath. “I…cannot give you that,” he said.
Thor bent down, bringing there mouths close so that they were breathing the same air in and out of each other. “Your cunt…or your life,” he growled, in what Loki considered to be the most callous yet exhilarating ultimatum he had ever heard. “That is my bargain,” Thor finished.
He lay there silently, and it was only as Thor’s fingers slid frictionlessly through his slick that he realised how wet he was. “I…” he started nervously before growing stern. “I don’t plan to die today,” he finally said.
His brother’s lips drew wide across his teeth in a wicked grin. “So be it.”
Thor tore his own nightshirt off, balled it up and threw it halfway across the room, the gust of air making the candle flicker erratically. He then bracketed him once more, peering down at him in scrutiny, his hair now messed in a way that made him look almost feral.
Suddenly grabbing him by the waist, Thor flipped him over as though he weighed nothing, hauling him up on his hands and knees then, with a tight fist tangled in the material, wrenched his nightclothes up around his shoulders, exposing his body to the night air, goosebumps rising on his skin despite the warmth of the evening. The aggressiveness of this act astonished him; it was so unlike his brother.
He was tempted to turn his head in order to watch the proceedings, but instead faced forward, the notion of being unable to predict Thor’s next actions proving a more enticing alternative. He sat there with his bottom raised, awaiting some form of contact, anything, but as the seconds passed, he began to squirm restlessly, desperate to be touched.
Just when he had started to lose hope, he felt a steady, humid breath spread across his female sex, then another, and another, as if Thor were simply staring at him, inspecting him closely.
Something sloping then prodded curiously at his entrance, and it was only when he heard the sound of deep inhalation and the suck of air against his skin that he realised it was Thor’s nose: he was sniffing him, slowly too, luxuriating in it; his gut clenched. The behaviour may have been natural between animals, but between people, seemed utterly filthy.
The nose retreated, and without warning, the length of a finger pushed inside him, making him gasp as it breached him to the knuckle. It curled and prodded at his walls, doing so as if to map the size of him, as if to check that there was adequate room for something larger, and even though he knew what that ‘something’ was, the thought of it still made his heart race.
The finger was removed, and in one last test, a scorching tongue gave an indulgent swipe through his split, once, twice, then dipped into him, barely meeting with his channel before it was abruptly taken away, leaving him empty and wanting.
“This…” Thor hissed behind him, “This…will do nicely.” And the idea that his sex was considered satisfactory was both a compliment and a relief. “I will mount you here,” Thor continued, rubbing his entrance with his thumb. “And from here, you will birth me no less than one hundred pups.”
Loki's eyes widened.
"I am the last of my kind and in need of offspring, many offspring. You will remain here with me until you have fulfilled this purpose."
Loki gulped at the mere thought of it, of being kept by a creature for no other reason than to be continually bred by it.
“Yes?” Thor asked, as if he even had a say in the matter.
“…Yes,” Loki agreed, trying to sound solemn, trying to sound as though he were reluctantly giving himself over to his fate.
Thor moved in between his legs until he felt the dull head of his cock slide up through the folds of his inner lips then press against his opening; he twitched around it in anticipation.
“I have not mated in many moons,” Thor declared, “My hunger for it burns hot, and the weight of my seed burdens me greatly. Your company will please me.”
With a small push, his brother lodged his tip inside, dilating him… but went no further. His back was then met with a clammy muscular chest as Thor bent down to rest on him, arms on either side of his own.
Thor’s voice dropped to a whisper against his ear. “You will find no peace here, little one.”
The threat made Loki shudder.
Without guiding his cock with his hands, Thor began to advance on him - in him - with only the propel of his hips - the rest of his body grounded and still. He sank inside him in one long uninterrupted movement, not retreating to open him up, or spread their wet to reduce friction; just spearing into his gut until he was completely immersed in his heat. Loki whined in the back of his throat, his eyebrows pinched, only realising he had been biting the inside of his lower lip when he felt the throb that followed the release of it.
He was graced with only a few slow slides before Thor began, quite abruptly, to thrust roughly and sharply into him. Loki’s whole body jolted forward with each impact, while his brother’s moved merely from his pelvis, the stimulation on his cock being the only thing that seemed to matter to him: a need to be fulfilled, nothing more. His cunt had never been so inconsiderately taken, and it aroused him no end.
What stunned him further was the silence; Thor usually whispered dirty things in his ear when they made love, talked to him, but now he said nothing, leaving it purely to sensation alone. It did, however, make him acutely aware of the noises that did occur; the low creak of the wooden bedframe; the squeak of the mattress; the huffs of their breaths; the slap of their thighs; and the squelch of their sexes - it was a cacophony of indecency.
Loki could sense Thor closing in on him, or rather, he could smell it: the intoxicating mixture of his brother's musk, sweat, and arousal; it was so dizzying that he imagined it to be chemical: sex hormones released specifically to make him want to mate and carry young... He felt something at his neck, and though it was dulled by the more dominant sensation of Thor’s cock, he realised that it was the feeling of teeth. They dug in, not enough to draw blood, but potentially enough to leave a mark. He wondered if he would need to hide it under high collars or if he would parade it around; he would tell their parents it was a wolf in the forest, they might even believe it, but Thor would know that it was him, and the idea of that secret shared knowledge was thrilling.
Thor began to move harsher still, deeper still, now stabbing slightly painfully into his cervix, over and over, in a way that, had it not been Thor and had Thor not known his perverse enjoyment of such things, would have been almost sickening in it's selfish disregard - he would have wanted no other man like this. He started to let out short ‘Uh’s with every merciless thrust and Thor followed him with low grunts, and Gods if they didn’t sound like two filthy animals rutting in heat.
He reached down to his clitoris and began rubbing it; he would get no help from Thor in this respect, and was Hel-bent on achieving orgasm with his beast of a brother fucking ruthlessly into him.
The motion of his hand between his legs must have caught Thor’s attention and stirred something in him, because he started hissing through the gap between his teeth, his movements becoming unpredictable - he was close.
Loki clung onto the headboard with one hand while he worked his clitoris in a frenzy, whimpering with the sheer force of their sex, nearly there, nearly there, and-
Every muscle in his body contracted at once, his back: dipped and strung. His cunt then began to throb in short intervals around Thor’s cock, and as he looked down, he realised that his own cock was squirting out little dribbles of come - he rarely climaxed in both sexes at the same time.
Thor came with a loud, graceless groan, and Loki could feel his release gush into him. The first of his pups, he thought.
They panted harshly as Loki’s hand fell weakly from the headboard, his legs wobbling until they collapsed under him, leaving Thor on all-fours above him. Thor soon followed, clambering off and lying on the bed, a hand across his own chest as it rose and fell.
They rested together quietly for several minutes until Thor shuffled over and prodded Loki in the thigh, grinning. “Good story, eh?” he said.
His complexion was noticeably ruddy, even in the candlelight, and his hair was heavy with sweat.
Loki prodded Thor’s thigh back. “Good story,” he agreed, turning onto his side and letting Thor spoon in behind him and wrap his arms around him.
They were stroking each with lazy thumbs when a question arose in Loki’s mind. “So what happened to the princess?” he asked.
Thor smiled, revelling in his afterglow. “Well, they all lived happily ever after, didn’t they?”
“Oh, come on!” Loki protested. “Not after that! Surely, Thor.”
“No, no. You’re quite right,” Thor nodded, pulling Loki even closer into the curl of his body and pacifying him. “You see, the princess never returned home. And as the population continued to dwindle, those left alive had no choice but to flee. The Kingdom is in ruins now, and only animals remain. Though it is said, by the rare lost wanderer who has survived until dawn, that on the night of a full moon, the cries of a hundred creatures can be heard - cries unlike any other - with the ferocity of a beast, but with the anguish of a man…”
“Now that is a good ending.”
“So, do you still think you’re too old for bedtime stories, Loki.”
“No, Brother… I don’t,” Loki smiled. He rose and blew out the candle on the nightstand, then snuggled back into Thor, leaving them both doused in darkness, total darkness, except for a single shaft of moonlight that peeked through the balcony drapes.