Thor woke in midnight darkness, a slow surfacing from his dreams, to a shift of movement on the bed with him. However, Thor knew he had gone to bed alone. And when he had gone to bed, with his vision blurred on the edges from an evening well spent with mead and laughter in the feasting hall, he had sprawled out bare, covered only to the waist with a light sheet after shucking away his clothes and collapsing face-first onto his pillow, enjoying the cool air on his skin. He was definitely no longer alone. The mattress was tilted slightly from the weight of another body, and he strained his ears to hear the slightest whispers of skin and cloth. Whoever it was moved with cautious grace, obviously taking care not to wake him. Thor held himself entirely still, nervous thrills rushing through him.
His eyelids threatened to flutter and his muscles wanted to tense; he wanted desperately to see what was happening next to him, but he could not allow his body to betray any sign that he had awoken. Loki did not come to him like this often. Adrenalin rushed through Thor’s veins, drawing a tracery of fire throughout his body, but there was the sense of a dream to it, a deep relaxation of lingering sleepiness. He did not know for certain what would come next.
Still, it took everything he had not to jump when Loki’s hand touched him, fingers lightly delving and stroking in the place where the backs of his thighs met the curve of his ass. And the touch made him suddenly aware of a sheen of warm wetness there—between his buttocks, trailing over his balls and even dripping down to the base of his cock. With a shock he realized, understood why. Loki’s well-slicked fingers had already slipped inside and prepared him before he woke. The thought made his heart pound, thumping against his ribs so hard he was amazed that Loki couldn’t hear it. Loki had fingered him while he slept, touching him, pressing inside him while he was unaware. He had to stifle a gasping breath at the knowledge.
As he lay there silently, he felt Loki moving slowly, cautiously, to straddle his legs and slide his prick along the wetness between them. Felt the soft, warm breath Loki huffed brushing between his shoulder blades. Of course Loki knew he was a heavy sleeper, sometimes needing to be dragged out of bed by his toes in the mornings. Of course Loki knew he could come while Thor slept and do whatever he wished with his body. Did Loki take him like this, Thor wondered, merely because he could? Thor felt Loki’s hand spreading him and felt the slippery touch of Loki’s cock as he aligned himself with Thor’s body, and he forced down the urge to tense as the thick head was pressed against him, threatening to enter him at any moment. Or did Loki also thrill at the knowledge of how vulnerable Thor was in his slumber, his inability to resist? Did it arouse Loki to think that, come morning, Thor would wake none the wiser, passing off stray memories as mead-born dreams, and would meet Loki’s gaze ignorant of what had been done to him? Did it cause Loki’s prick to harden and his breath to hitch at the thought of Thor going about all unaware that he had been claimed and used and conquered? Thor suppressed the shiver that ran through him; Loki had paused just there, just about to push inside, and the feeling of anticipation made heat bloom through Thor's loins until it almost drove him crazy.
Sleepy lethargy lingered in Thor’s muscles; the dark of his eyelids protected him. If he were awake, he would have no choice but to stop this. He would have to throw Loki off, violently, take some sort of retribution for this violation of his body. But if he was asleep, he could let Loki slip a hand under his belly to so subtly rutch up his hips for a better angle, the splayed fingers coming so deliciously close to grazing his erection. If he was asleep, he could lie passive and still as Loki’s cock slid into his ass, inch by agonizing inch, stretching him in a way that might have been painful if it weren’t for the utterly relaxed state of his body. Thor quashed the loud groan that threatened to spill from his lips at Loki’s long, slow plunge deep into him, exerted all his control to keep his limbs loose and his eyes softly shut, to force himself not to clutch at the sheets and to keep his face sleep-blank as Loki settled in above him, buried to the hilt and clearly holding himself steady as he adjusted to the pleasure of it. He felt Loki stroking his fingers hesitantly down the tender skin of Thor’s sides, as if he were soothing him, or testing him.
And then Loki started moving, fucking him deep and slow, staying silent enough that Thor had to control even the speed of his breaths if he wanted to keep his waking a secret. It was the sort of fucking that he could mistake for a dream, except that Loki’s cock practically burned in him and he felt he was already about to come from the intensity, how badly he needed this, how forcefully he had to control himself not to shatter the illusion. His own cock was pressed into the mattress and being subjected to the same slow, gentle pressure of Loki’s thrusts, and he wondered what would happen if he just reached back for Loki’s hand and brought it there, and begged Loki to fuck him fast and hard, to take whatever he wanted with Thor’s eyes open. He knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t face himself come morning if he did. And it would only be worse if Loki realized or discovered that he had been awake every time—if not from the start then at least by the time Loki entered him. He could only imagine how Loki would mock him, holding it over him forever that he had been so receptive, so willing to be taken in the night. Even if he tried to pass it off as drunkenness, Loki would see through him. Loki knew him far too well for that.
Loki would mock him for his depravity, his shameful need to be taken by his own brother, his desperation for Loki’s cock (and he would be exactly right—if Loki asked him to go down on his knees and suck him in front of all of Asgard, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist). But what would be worse would be that he might stop, that he might no longer follow Thor back to his rooms on such nights to take him without asking or needing his acquiescence. And the thought of that made Thor’s mind and body rebel, made him hold himself still even as Loki’s fingers curled hard around his hip.
A barely audible moan from Loki’s mouth seared through the quiet darkness like a cry. All Thor could do was take whatever Loki wanted to do to him. He had no control over the speed and depth of Loki’s thrusts, no means to beg for more. He held himself still and willed Loki to push him over the edge somehow—so close, so close, the heat deep in his belly agonizing, making it almost impossible not to squirm and buck to meet each thrust. And he got his wish when he felt the head of Loki’s cock swelling inside of him, hitting just the right spot. He trembled and shook as his orgasm swept over him and his semen spilled into the sheets under him; pink heat flushed through his chest and his cheeks, and like every time, he clenched his teeth to hold back the moans, hoping that Loki would notice nothing amiss. Likely he wouldn’t—Thor could feel the sudden heat of Loki’s seed filling him, could feel his brother’s shaky breaths against the back of his neck, the squeeze of his fingers on Thor's hip that then loosened and slid away.
After a few moments, Loki pulled back and seemed to slump on the side of the bed, but Thor was not sure what happened next, for he was already slipping back under darkness and into dreams.
Loki rose silently in the dimness of Thor’s chambers, pulled on his clothes, covered them with a thick, dark robe. When Thor had stumbled away from the feasting hall alone, he had glanced back from the doorway with a longing on his face that Loki had learned was meant for him. Of course he would not turn down such an invitation. So he had waited. He gave it a good hour before deciding that Thor would be either asleep or near enough to it to convince himself. But now, spent and sated, Thor was actually asleep, and drifting deeper under with each moment. Before he returned to his own room, Loki knelt down beside the head of the bed, leaning slightly against it to stare at Thor’s face and brush a few golden strands back. He tweaked the sheet also to bring it up over Thor's shoulder, tenderly.
“Good night, sleeping beauty,” he murmured, just barely gliding his lips against Thor’s brow before he rose and returned to his own bed.
(The first time:
Loki wasn’t at all sure that what he was doing was a good idea as he stood to follow the path a drunken Thor had made out of the hall an hour or two before. It was an idea that filled him with a glitter of pleased laughter. It was an idea that spread his lips in a dark, vicious smile. It was an idea that courted disaster, and one that he couldn’t get out of his head.
It was simple enough to steal into Thor’s bedchamber. Even if anyone had seen him enter, they would hardly have questioned the younger prince’s access to his own brother, even in the middle of the night. And it had been likewise easy to seal the door against intrusions and interruptions.
But once inside, finding his way by the tawny light of Thor’s dimmed bedside lamp, he almost hesitated, feeling sweat spring up on his skin and a tremble of anxiety threading through him. Of all the tricks he’d played, this would be a bold one. If Thor ever found out…
Loki studied Thor’s sleeping form as he stood by his bedside. Gold hair mussed and splayed out on the pillow. Pink lips slack and touched with just a hint of a smile, as if he were buried in some pleasant dream. Thor had one arm up over his head and the other folded over his stomach, and his bare legs were spread at a comfortable angle under the light sheet.
For too long, Thor had been happy to tease him. For his use of magic, Thor called him a woman. For his lesser skill at battle, Thor called him weak. For his trickery, Thor called him a coward. Never so openly, and never with the intent to truly wound, but that mattered little. The words got under Loki’s skin and burned there until he felt he had to do something to take vengeance on his brother. Something just as underhanded and vile as Thor made him feel. A trick that would go unnoticed but would give him something to think about, some secret knowledge to smile over when Thor jested with Fandral at his expense or any other such betrayals.
And so there he was, standing over his slumbering brother, ready to take himself in hand and spend himself across Thor’s pretty face.
Danger and heartache made him harder than he could ever remember being as he eased his erection out of his trousers, and it made his breath hitch to be able to watch the slow rise and fall of Thor’s chest as he stroked a hand along his length. He thought of all the cruel things Thor had ever said of him, and he imagined stopping up the words by filling Thor’s mouth with his cock, watching his lips stretch to take him in and watching as he struggled to handle the length of it. He doubted Thor had ever sucked a man’s cock before; tears would probably run out of the corners of his eyes at the shame of it. Loki would wipe them away with the pads of his thumbs before forcing Thor’s head down onto him once more, twining his fingers in Thor’s hair and holding him there until he choked and gagged and swallowed around him.
Loki rocked forward on his feet as he played out the fantasy in his head, and he felt his cock growing hotter in his hand, but somehow, just this was not enough. It was too easy.
Trembling with nervous energy, he slid to a seat on the edge of the bed. He moved slowly, cautiously. He could still, if Thor woke suddenly, weave a lie that he had come for some other reason. In a few moments, that would no longer be possible. With his pulse echoing in his ears, Loki eased himself down onto the bed beside his brother.
Thor lay naked under his sheets, and as Loki slipped close against him, he noted every slight motion, watchful for any sign that he might be waking, holding back some small part of himself for just that purpose… because the rest of him could not be trusted to care. Loki’s hips started to move in little slips and nudges, rubbing his cock against Thor’s thigh. The warmth of Thor’s body, the softness of that little curve of flesh, the peril of frotting against his own sleeping brother’s skin made a low moan come up behind his teeth. If Thor knew what he was doing…
And from there, it was simple enough to take Thor’s big, languid, slumbering hand and bring it to his prick, wrap the unresisting fingers around and encircle both with his own hand, making Thor stroke him. He glanced back and forth desperately between the warm fingers that touched him so deliciously and the softly closed eyes, the slack lips, the shadows on the beloved, sleeping face. And he just couldn’t hold back any more. He came hard, spilling over Thor’s hand to the thought of the flush of fury and shame and betrayal that would spread through Thor’s face if he ever found out what Loki had done to him tonight as he slept.
After he came, it sent a tremor through him to see his brother’s hand coated in his seed, the slick whiteness of it dripping from his fingertips. Loki’s mouth curved in a pleased smile and his bit his lip. Of course, as appealing as it looked, it would not do to leave such strange evidence for Thor to interpret; Loki instead brought Thor’s hand to his mouth and licked away the semen, swiping his tongue across Thor’s palm and between his fingers. When he got down to the last pooling globs, though, he left them, scooped them up onto his own fingers. He couldn’t leave without getting what he came for, of course. Carefully, as slowly and softly and cautiously as he could, he bent close to Thor’s face, and with a single fingertip he painted a line of his own semen across Thor’s lips and another trailing down one cheek, and wiped the last traces off into Thor’s silky hair. There.
He got to his feet and looked back. And he had been right. Thor looked so beautiful with Loki’s come on his face. It would be a memory to cherish.
It was only the next day, sitting (as the very image of innocence and contentedness) across from Thor as they broke their fast and finding Thor much quieter than usual, seeing him occasionally reach up to touch his cheek with a hesitant fingertip and a confused look, that Loki realized what had happened.
Thor had awoken. He must have. Loki ran back through the memories of the night to a certain moment when Thor had nearly shifted in his sleep but then stopped as Loki rubbed against him. It must have been then.
And if Thor had woken and had not stopped him…
It took weeks to get up enough courage to do it again, to return to Thor’s room in the night to do wicked things with his apparently slumbering body. But when he did, he was alert for the signs, and he saw the way Thor tensed for a brief moment as he woke and then relaxed again, and he heard the tiny hitches in Thor’s breathing as he felt what was being done to him.
So you want this as much as I do, eh, brother? Loki thought to himself. It explained a lot. It explained hostility and tenderness and the way Thor feigned sleep as if he were utterly terrified that this was the only way he could have his brother’s touch. It was enough to make Loki laugh, if it hadn’t made him want to do so many other things first.
And that is how it began.)
The next time it happened, it was mere days later, and that in itself was startling—it was never so often, so soon again. Thor had barely had time to swear oaths to himself that this would be the last time he allowed it and of what he would do when next Loki crept into his room at nights… yet there he was, holding back a whimper as he woke to the feel of Loki’s mouth on him, tongue licking slowly up his length, lips wrapping gently around the head. As before, he kept himself still, kept his eyes closed, let Loki do what he wished in the belief that he was asleep, and he had to bite back a cry as Loki’s fingers entered him and began stretching him even as his mouth still engulfed Thor’s prick. The dual sensations practically broke his self-control.
The feel of it, this time, was somehow different. Thor had nearly always lain on his stomach when Loki came to him before, and Loki had always moved so slowly, so careful not to wake him. Now his motions were incautious. His fingers curling and twisting within Thor’s body, rapid and rhythmic, his teeth scraping lightly along Thor’s shaft. Thor almost thought he felt the inaudible rumble of a growl in the depths of Loki’s throat.
That day—perhaps for several days, since the last time—Thor had felt out of sorts. Off-balance with the world and a step behind those around him. His mind wandered and strange sensations ran along his skin. And everything Loki said to him, each casual comment, grated on his nerves. He responded with sharp jibes, nearly insults.
Truth be told, it had not been fair of him and he was well aware of it. He had been taking out his mood on Loki, and he would have apologized if he hadn’t felt so foul. And if he hadn’t secretly blamed the trickster for the fire in his blood and for not knowing when to stay away.
Loki’s fingers wrenched within him almost viciously just before they were withdrawn, and Thor almost began to make an attempt at a sleepy turn to roll onto his belly, but Loki was already spreading his thighs further, manipulating his dream-limp knees until the backs of his legs were locked against Loki’s waist. Never had Loki taken him like this, and the similarity to the position of the maidens he’d often bedded inflamed Thor’s blood all the more. His cock bobbed against his stomach, trailing precome. And it suddenly occurred to him how perilous this was—could he feign sleep as he came if Loki could see his face so clearly, if Loki could watch as he spilled onto his own stomach? And would Loki perhaps deign to touch him, or would he attend only to his own pleasure? Would it feel different than the way Loki usually fucked him? Better? Would Loki’s cock be able to press deeper into him? Thor’s heart pounded.
Thor let his legs rest slack against Loki’s body, forced his breathing to stay steady as Loki entered him with a series of shallow thrusts, each going a little deeper, each pressing against something inside him that sent jolts of electric pleasure along his spine.
Lying there like that, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t keep his eyes from opening, just a tiny bit. He’d never had the opportunity to see Loki’s face as he fucked him. He wanted—needed—to know what he would see there, whether it would be dark triumph or easy bliss.
He did not expect the open, curious look or the half-smile, and he certainly did not expect the way Loki lowered himself onto his hands, leaning down until he was close enough to kiss. Thor shut his eyes again, hoping that Loki had not seen the glint between lashes.
“Deceitful tricks unworthy of those who call themselves men,” Loki whispered, echoing Thor’s own words to him that day. “But you enjoy my deceits in the dark of night, don’t you?”
One of Loki’s hands stroked down the side of his face as he sped up his thrusts, abandoning any pretense of trying not to wake him, and Thor felt a flush of horror. What if Loki knew he was not asleep?
Then Loki’s hand snaked down between them to grasp his erection, fingers wrapping around it, giving him an experimental squeeze that almost made him gasp.
“Brother, what gives you away is that you are too still, too quiet. When you’re actually asleep, you move to try to get more of whatever I give you, and you make these wonderful little noises…”
Thor’s heart nearly stopped. He froze. Didn’t move. Didn't breathe. Didn’t say a word. Loki sighed.
“Yes, Thor. I know and have known for a long time. You’re not that clever, and no one could sleep through some of the things I’ve done to you. But I’ve kept up the game because I know how much you need this, how desperately you crave it. And I know you think you can’t ask for it. So if you need me to take the choice away from you, I will. You can convince yourself all you like that it’s my doing and that you’re not practically ready to spill all over yourself at just the idea of me taking you.”
And then Loki did kiss him, lips pressed hard against his, tongue delving swiftly into his mouth. “Wake up and open your eyes, brother,” Loki said after breaking the kiss. “I promise I won’t stop.”
Thor, heaving a shaking breath as for the first time his body tensed all over, did exactly as Loki told him.
“Good boy,” Loki said, seeming to drink in the sight of his eyes and the nervous fear in them. “And now that you can no longer pretend, I want you to know that I will have you any way that I want you, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Thor stared up at Loki, at the fond, evil glint in his eye even as he slid out and pushed in again, beginning again the motions that had slowed to almost nothing as he spoke. Thor couldn’t make himself answer, his breath caught in his throat.
Suddenly Loki laughed. “Isn’t it wonderful? I don’t even have to take you by force, as I surely couldn’t hope to do so for long. But you know what I’ll do if you resist me.”
Thor realized he was panting, gasping for air and clinging to Loki’s hips between his legs. “What?” he asked in a croak.
“I’ll tell everyone how the strong and mighty Thor mewls when he is speared on my cock. Your friends will find out how you can never go too long without lying beneath me and giving me whatever I want. Perhaps I will even tell Mother and Father that it is your own brother you lust for. Don’t think I wouldn’t,” Loki hissed, low and close.
Thor didn’t doubt, and he shuddered at the thought of all Asgard finding out the things Loki said. It was clear, then, that Loki intended to make Thor his whore, Thor realized, and heat coiled tight in his abdomen at the thought. Loki would use him and take him however he pleased—and now he would not even be able to hide behind the game of feigning slumber. Loki would be able to make him do so many things—would make him do filthy things he had never even dreamed of. He groaned deeply, stared up into Loki’s face and the fierce look of love there.
“And if you disobey me, perhaps I’ll find other ways to hurt you as well,” Loki added, his fingers tightening slightly where they were still curled around Thor’s cock, which was achingly hard.
“Yes,” whined Thor as his body, at last freed from the strictures of pretended sleep, began to writhe and twist wantonly of its own accord. “I’ll do whatever you ask, brother.”
Loki looked at him through his long, dark lashes, and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “I know you will.”
Thor’s body surprised him by coming then as he met his brother’s eyes, spilling over Loki’s knuckles so that it dripped down to his navel. And, without breaking the gaze, he guided Loki’s hand up to his own mouth, where he lapped at the semen-slicked skin, remembering the very first time that he woke to find Loki in his bed like this.
Loki’s eyes widened at the lascivious way Thor sucked at the tips of his fingers. Only moments later, in a few haphazard thrusts he too came and collapsed on top of Thor, breathing hard and fast.
In the minutes that followed, they shifted and moved and rearranged themselves until they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Thor’s body suddenly remembered its interrupted rest and Loki’s remembered its lack of it. They stretched a little, made small noises of content.
Loki broke the sleepy silence that followed. “I will hold you to all that,” he said.
“I know you will,” murmured Thor, already half asleep.
What happened after Thor woke up.
Contains development of a dom/sub relationship and a bit of h/c.
And what came after:
It seemed Thor didn’t come up for air for months. Every time they could escape for even an hour, Loki would wind up with Thor curled in an exhausted tangle at his feet, sometimes bruised, sometimes tear-tracked, sometimes simply well-fucked—after some subtle gesture or casual word had hinted at whatever new degradation he wished Loki to force upon him next, and after Loki gave him what he wanted. (It was not that Loki minded this arrangement—on the contrary, it took his breath away to see how readily Thor entrusted himself to Loki’s hands, how sweetly and easily he submitted. And some of the things Thor came up with surprised even him. For one, Thor seemed fascinated by the possibilities for torment and ecstasy available to a sorcerer, in a way that cast his old jibes in a whole new light.)
“Do you suppose someone could come up with a spell making it impossible for their lover to stray, even if they… um, tried?” Thor had asked him one evening, a familiar eager light shining in his eyes. Thor particularly liked it when Loki controlled him, no matter how.
Loki had hesitated a moment before shrugging and answering. “Yes, I’m sure one could. But… if you don’t have some trust in your partner, your problems are beyond the reach of magic.”
And Thor had looked disappointed before Loki stood up and stalked over to behind where Thor sat and wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck. He leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Why? Are you thinking of straying, Thor?”
Thor had tilted his head and grinned hesitantly up at him. And Loki had stood there with his hands curled against Thor’s collarbone, his eyes piercing into Thor’s until Thor’s lips opened and his mouth spilled out guilty, heated confessions of desires to lie with half of Asgard, to let other men take him as Loki did, to let others make him beg and whimper.
“Is that so?” Loki had said, smile growing thin, and he hadn’t expected the sudden itch under his skin as his hands stroked gently along Thor’s neck or the sudden stinging ache in his chest. Clearly Thor expected to get a reaction out of him. Loki would provide it.
It was already familiar territory when he ordered Thor to undress and to get on his knees on the ground, when he bound his hands behind his back.
For a moment he circled, letting Thor anticipate what was coming, but in truth his own thoughts were swirling dangerously.
“How many others would you let take you, brother?” he asked suddenly. “A few, carefully chosen for their power and prowess? Or as many as you could handle, no matter who?”
As he spoke he crouched down in front of his brother, biting at his own lip and touching Thor in little ways that had become habit, stroking him in tender places with his fingertips, pinching and scraping and soothing. “Would you want them all to come into you one after another, leaving you soaked in their seed like a common whore? Is it the idea of being used so casually that appeals to you?”
He watched as Thor’s lips parted, as his brows drew together as he panted. “Mm,” Thor said, nodding. “Yes…”
“And what if I don’t believe you?”
For a moment Thor’s storm-blue eyes met his in soft confusion. “I…”
Clenching his teeth, Loki landed an open-handed slap across Thor’s cheek, turning his head and creating an instant red mark, and leaving his hand there to rub slowly against the sting. It was an insult that only made Thor squirm in his bonds and lean closer.
“You would be beautiful like that, fucked and filled and debased by anyone willing to enter you. I can’t deny that. But that’s not what makes your breath go so short, I think. What you want is to know what would happen after. What I would do about it.”
Weaving his fingers in Thor’s hair and pulling him close, Loki pitched his voice low enough that Thor would have to strain to hear him.
“If you took another lover, they would never be safe from me.”
Thor’s breaths reached his ears as a hiss.
“You know you belong to me alone, Thor. I do not agree to share you. And anyone else who had you would be fortunate if I did not kill them for it.”
And before he knew what he intended to do, Loki was moving, slipping behind Thor’s back to wrench up cruelly on his bound arms so he had no choice but to bend until his cheek was resting against the floor. And then Loki was piercing him with only the most cursory preparation, hoping it burned, and holding him there as he fucked him hard, snarling at the way Thor’s body stretched and contorted beneath him, and feeling his heart patter at Thor’s pained, glorious whimpers. For once his words were not simply playful promises to make Thor writhe at the thought. This time he meant each one, and put that truth into each touch of his hand on Thor’s skin and each shift of his hips.
When it was over, Thor reeled. Bruised and sore, marked in dozens of places with bites, with red lines where the bonds had cut into his wrists as he struggled against them, with burns where Loki’s fingers had traced magical fire along his skin.
He had never felt so good.
For several minutes he simply sprawled on the floor, feeling each delicious hurt, noting them to hoard them in his memory. He could hear Loki moving slightly away, but he barely noticed.
When at last he looked up, Loki sat with one leg folded under him and an arm wrapped around his other knee. He did not quite meet Thor’s gaze, and it took Thor a moment to understand what he was seeing.
Loki was actually angry. His lips were a thin line, his eyes full of cold bitterness of the sort that, he knew well, Loki could nurture for years.
So suddenly, like a gust of icy wind on Thor’s skin, everything was changed. He scrambled close, hands rising hesitantly to touch Loki’s face.
“Brother… what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”
Loki batted Thor’s hands away in annoyance and the corner of his mouth twitched as his eyes flashed to Thor and away. He gave a vague, dismissive shake of the head.
But Thor would not be deterred. He slid even closer, tilted his chin so he could press his mouth against Loki’s. “Whatever it was, I didn’t mean it. And I apologize for it.” He nuzzled against Loki’s neck and stroked his hands up and down Loki’s back. “If you’ll ever tell me what it was, I’ll promise to try not to do it again.” He slid a hand under the sleek darkness of Loki’s hair so he could caress the tender place just behind Loki’s ear—Thor knew how much he liked that—and he let his own breath come in tiny whimpers.
They hadn’t played any games like that one before, and Thor was not so dense he couldn’t realize why, when given a few moments to think. Loki had been truly, painfully jealous.
And Thor realized that he had been thinking more than he knew over the last few months, though he wasn’t sure when he’d had time for it. Thinking of Loki and their long history together and this. He was no longer ashamed of what they were doing—Loki had forced him past that—and as the feeling faded, it had been replaced by twinges of shame for things he had done and said long before. And Loki wouldn’t have forgotten, even if he never mentioned it.
Loki was always too good at hiding it when he was hurt, and far too good at seeming sure of himself when he wasn’t. And just at the moment he was staring unconcernedly off into the distance as if he hadn’t just finished marking Thor in every way he could at the thought of Thor taking others into his bed.
“Loki, come…” Thor murmured, getting to his feet and tugging at Loki’s hands to guide them both over to the bed so they could lie together more comfortably. With a sigh, Loki went along.
Once there, Thor gathered Loki in his arms so they lay curled together, Loki’s back to his chest, a blanket pulled loosely over them. He buried his face in Loki’s hair.
“I love you, brother,” he whispered. “I will always be yours. Only yours. I swear it to you.”
He felt the shiver that ran through Loki’s body and pressed himself closer. And for a time they simply lay like that, their breathing synchronizing and a sort of sleepy comfort welling up. It grew into a humming warmth. Thor felt a twinge of growing desire so different from the fiery lust of before. His heart swelled at each breath of his brother’s scent. He could even feel Loki’s pulse against his skin.
“Brother, will you let me…?” he murmured against Loki’s hair, and he rubbed himself against him.
Loki twisted to look him in the face, and there was a soft smile on his lips as he nodded and leaned into Thor’s kiss.
Still under the blanket, Thor guided himself into Loki’s body (already slicked and ready—magic had its uses). Gently, slowly, as if in a dream, they moved together, filling the air with wordless breaths and sighs and soft moans. It reminded Thor of when Loki had used to fuck him in his sleep, yet it was also wholly different, and not simply because of the feel of being inside Loki, the feel of Loki undulating against him.
Somehow, even like this, Loki still ruled him. Thor would have done anything to please him.
Thor wrapped an arm tighter around Loki’s shoulders and felt the fingers of Loki’s hand threading in with his own.
“Love you, brother,” Thor said. “Need you. Would give you anything.”
Loki leaned back against him, seeking his mouth again, to kiss and breathe against and feel those whispered words against his cheek.
A little while later, they fell asleep still wrapped around each other.
By the time Thor woke, it seemed Loki had been up for some time; he was already dressed, pacing across the room by the window, stalking through the edge of the daylight that angled down to the floor.
When he saw that Thor was awake, he turned to him and grinned.
It was a wicked grin, self-satisfied and clever and strange.
And oh, Thor liked the sight of that.