It was snowing when the light of the Bifrost winked out, depositing the two men and their horses at the edge of a wide, snow-covered field. Loki immediately twitched up the hood of his dark green, fur-lined cloak over his head, muttering in irritation. Thor just smiled, shaking his long blond hair out to catch the tiny flakes in his golden strands. The smile turned into a booming laugh, startling a few birds from the nearby trees when Loki turned his glare on his brother.
“Smile, Loki!” he said, grinning broadly. “’Tis a beautiful day!”
Loki snorted. “Beautiful,” he muttered. “It’s cold and wet, and we’ll likely not see the sky for days. When we left Asgard, I had no need of this,” he tugged at his sable-lined cloak, “and the sun was shining. What is there to like about this?” Loki held his arms out wide, indicating the world around them.
Thor’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Loki speculatively for a moment. Then he gathered himself and vaulted off his saddle and into his brother, bearing both of them to the snowy ground, the horses bolting in fright and coming to a stop about fifty feet away. Once on the ground, Thor pinned Loki with his greater bulk, arms and legs pressing down on Loki’s so that the other man could only struggle futilely.
“You bastard!” Loki snarled. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Thor lowered his face, bringing it closer until just a few scant inches separated the two, his hair falling in a curtain to shield their faces from non-existent eyes. Then he let more of his weight rest on Loki, pressing him down into the snow. With a frustrated cry, Loki stopped struggling, letting his body go lax and still beneath Thor, feeling the heaviness of Thor’s body keeping him in place.
“Well, now,” Thor breathed, white curls of his breath drifting across Loki’s face. “You’re cold and wet, and as soon as I get you into the cabin, you’ll not see the sky for days, but I still like you. You need to look on the bright side.”
“Thor…” he groaned, the weight of his brother’s body now something he wanted to pull closer rather than push away. His pulse raced and bright spots of color burned high on his cheeks. He was surprised when Thor suddenly levered himself off his body, simply laying there for a moment, bewildered as to why Thor had moved.
“Come, Loki,” Thor said, holding out a hand. “The sooner we get to the cabin, the sooner we can…warm up.” The last was delivered with a knowing gleam in his eyes, and Loki held his hand out for Thor to take. The larger man lifted him up and set him on his feet effortlessly, and then they trudged through the snow to retrieve their horses. Loki kept eyeing Thor, wondering if his brother actually intended to go to cabin without any other stops. But it seemed he did, apparently content to simply enjoy the ride. He neither made any more grabs at Loki, nor did he return any of the sidelong glances Loki shot him. They rode in silence, the heat Thor’s actions had stoked in him slowly cooling. Finally, they crested a small rise and looked down at the log cabin that sat against the far edge of the woods. Thor gave a gleeful whoop and thumped his heels into his horse’s sides, charging down the slope in a spray of powdery snow.
Rolling his eyes, Loki followed at a more sedate pace. By the time he got down to the small barn set a short distance from the cabin, Thor already had his horse unpacked and unsaddled, and was rubbing it down. By long-standing, unspoken agreement, Loki dismounted, tied his horse’s reins to a post, and grabbed both his packs and Thor’s and headed into the main building. Thor would see both animals and their tack taken care of while Loki put their supplies away and started something to eat.
The packs were heavier than usual, enough to sustain them for at least a week instead of the handful of days they usually came here for, and Loki set them down with a thump as soon as he’d shut the door behind him. He frowned, looking at the thin layer of dust that had settled over everything in their absence, and with an almost careless gesture, he used a quick sweep of magic to remove it. Then he dug in the pack, removed just enough things to start a quick stew, and got to work.
Years ago, so many that Loki couldn’t exactly recall, Thor had visited Midgard and become enchanted with the concept of a log cabin. He’d talked about it, about the charm of the rustic look, the homey feel they had until Loki had thrown up his hands in frustration and told him if he wanted one that badly to just build one himself. Then Thor had turned his damnable eyes on Loki and asked for his help, and Loki had been powerless to resist when his brother had asked so nicely.
Together, they’d scouted an out-of-the-way location on Midgard, one in a cold, remote area that saw snow most of the year and was unlikely to be discovered by humans. And then using a combination of Thor’s vision and Loki’s magic—mostly his magic, he’d grumbled as they worked—they built this small retreat. Loki has allowed Thor his rustic walls and dark wood interiors, but had insisted on making them as luxurious as possible. As a result, the floors were highly polished, almost as smooth as marble and so dark as to be nearly black. The rooms were spacious, bigger than what just the two of them needed, the bedroom dominated by a huge bed and the kitchen filled with all the amenities that Loki required to cook their meals, including running water and a proper stove. He’d never had any desire to try roasting a freshly killed animal in their fireplace, no matter how much Thor entreated him to.
But the crowning glory of this home was the bathing chamber. Thor complained about it, saying the tiled floors and sunken tub didn’t fit in, but Loki didn’t care. If Thor was going to drag him out to wilderness, he was damn well going to do it in comfort. And despite the fact that the plumbing required Loki’s magic to work, he didn’t care, turning the taps to begin filling the tub as he put their clothes and foodstuffs away. By the time he was done and the stew was burbling over a flame, the tub was filled, and he shucked his clothes—which smelled far too strongly of horse—and slid into the tub with a contented sigh. The water was hot and relaxing, and by the time it began to cool, Loki felt truly clean and more like himself. He drained the tub, and upon hearing Thor come stomping into the cabin, refilled it for the other man while he got dressed. Thor called his thanks, leaving his clothes in a trail across the floor while Loki set the table so they could eat. True to form, Thor was out of the bath, hair dripping and clad only in a pair of pants, just as Loki finished filling their bowls and setting some chunks of bread on a platter.
They ate quietly, Thor chattering away about nothing in particular. Loki let the soothing rumble of Thor’s voice wash over him. He might complain about it, but he did enjoy getting away from their responsibilities like this. When they were done, he sent Thor to clean up—Loki did not do dishes—and suggested that they should probably bring in some more firewood, and then left Thor to take care of it. After all, just because Loki enjoyed getting away didn’t mean he was going to do menial labor while he was at it.
While Thor ran the dishes through some soapy water, picked up his clothes and trudged outside for more wood, Loki curled up with a book on one of the heavy leather couches in the main room, the light from the fireplace being sufficient to see by.
Thor dropped an armful of firewood next to the fireplace, and stared down at Loki, arms akimbo. “Surely you jest,” he said.
Loki didn’t even look up. “About what?”
“A book,” Thor said in exasperation. “Truly, Brother, you brought a book with you?”
“I brought several,” Loki replied, turning a page. “Now if you don’t mind, you’re in my light.”
The book was pulled from his hands in an instant, and he reached for it, only to have Thor hold it up over his head. Loki could have used his magic to retrieve it, but instead he held out his hand. “Give it here, Thor.”
“No.” With a resolute shake of his head, Thor closed the book and tossed it onto another chair. “We have come out here to relax and enjoy ourselves, and you bring books.”
“I happen to enjoy books, you oaf. Some of us require more stimulating entertainment that hitting things with large, blunt objects.”
“I’ll give you ‘stimulating entertainment,’” Thor muttered, dropping to his knees next to the couch. “And as for ‘large, blunt objects….’”
Reaching out, Thor grabbed Loki around the waist and bodily hauled him off the couch and onto the floor, his ungraceful landing muted by Thor’s hold on him, and the fur of a large white bear that Thor had killed himself spread across the floor between the couch and fireplace. Loki struggled immediately, managing to pull away slightly.
“Thor, let me go!” he hissed.
“No.” Thor tightened his grip against Loki’s struggles, and stilled most them by the simple expedient of pressing Loki down onto the fur and covering him with his body. Loki bucked beneath him, trying to find some sort of purchase, but the smooth fur beneath him and Thor’s oppressive weight above him afforded him none. He let himself fall still, and he when he felt Thor relax, immediately tried to roll to the side. Thor growled and pinned him again, his legs caging Loki’s from the outside, one hand wrapped around each of Loki’s wrists and pinned them to either side of Loki’s head, and letting the weight of his torso rest against Loki’s.
For a few more minutes, Loki struggled, twisting his arms and bucking, trying to lever Thor off, but it didn’t work, and he gave up, panting and sweating lightly with the effort. Thor looked down at him, grinning cockily. “Why do you fight me? You know I’m going to win.”
Loki let his head fall back, thunking it down onto the fur, and tried not to use his magic. He could. With his magic, he could have easily lifted Thor off of him, but he didn’t want to. At least not when they were here, like this. Thor was one of the only people who ever got physical with him, and Loki enjoyed the feel of his muscles straining against his brother’s superior ones, the way that no matter how he flexed and heaved, Thor could always hold him and pin him easily.
He wasn’t sure why he enjoyed it, why he reveled in the feel of a futile struggle. He certainly never would have with anyone else, or in any other area. If anyone in Asgard ever attempted to do what he was allowing Thor to do right now, there wouldn’t be enough bits of them left to put on a pyre. Loki pulled again against Thor’s grip, just to feel the way his muscles strained, the way Thor tensed to hold him. He wasn’t weak, and though Thor could overpower him, he didn’t make it easy.
“Stubborn,” Thor grumbled.
“You’re one to talk,” Loki snapped back, and was rewarded by Thor shifting to pin him more firmly.
“Always you fight me,” Thor said. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy it.”
Loki bared his teeth in a wolf’s grin, and bucked up again, leaving his hips pressed against Thor’s for a moment to let him feel how much he was “enjoying” the struggle. “Whatever gives you that idea?”
It was enough to push Thor over the edge of whatever control he’d been holding on to. No sooner had Loki’s hips settled back on the floor than Thor’s mouth descended onto his. The kiss, too, was a matter of control, Loki making Thor claim him, to use force until Loki relented and allowed the dominating sweep of Thor’s tongue. He thrust it deeply, forcing Loki to open his mouth wider, to accept what Thor was doing, and Loki did. But even as he parted his lips, gasping for breath when Thor let up for a moment, he still tried to jerk his arms away, or slip his legs free. Thor growled into his mouth and pulled away.
Loki knew his lips were reddened and swollen, and he licked them, deliberately and obscenely. “Is that all?” he taunted. “Does the mighty Thor yield before me?”
Without a word, Thor sat up on his knees, and Loki wondered if he’d erred. But just as suddenly, Thor released his arms, grabbed his hips and flipped him over. Now face down in the rug, Loki pushed his upper body up. He intended to use the leverage to scramble away and had just started to shift one leg for traction when Thor slipped his hands underneath him and caught the edge of his shirt.
“What—?” Loki began, but cut himself off with a quick yelp when Thor pulled his shirt up and over his head, but not his arms, leaving them trapped and causing Loki to lose his balance. Thor’s hands caught him gently and lowered him down so that his face didn’t smash into the floor. Loki turned his face to the side, cursing the long fur as it caught in his mouth, and he tried to slip his arms free of his shirt.
Thor stopped him by placing one hand in the middle of his back, trapping the fabric and thus his arms, and then used his other hands to work under Loki’s hips and begin tugging at the laces to his pants. With deft movement, he undid Loki’s pants and slid them down and off his legs, shifting his weight so that Loki wasn’t able to squirm free.
“Do you have any idea how you look?” Thor breathed from above him, one hand still firmly planted on Loki’s back. The fingers of his free hand traced over the swell of Loki’s ass before kneading and palming the muscle. “You flush when you struggle like this, your skin all pink. You look good.”
“Enjoy the sight while you can,” Loki snarled without any real heat. “You’re going to have to let me go if you want to actually do anything with me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Thor curled over him, mouthing over the exposed skin of Loki’s neck, the hand not holding him continuing it exploration over every curve and dip of Loki’s body. His touch was heavy, possessive, roaming with impunity, as if Loki’s body were his. Thor’s fingers dipped into the crevice of his ass and pushed against the ring of tight muscle there, sighing contentedly at the resistance he found.
Loki tensed, suddenly unsure about where this was going. Thor knew he liked being prepared first. The few times they’d used just spit had left him uncomfortable for days.
“Peace, Loki,” Thor said gently, leaning down to brush his lips across Loki’s exposed cheekbone. “Trust me.”
Above him, Loki heard the rustling as Thor managed his own clothes. He took advantage of the moment to struggle again, and Thor grunted in irritation, letting his weight fall heavily across Loki’s back. “Such little faith,” he chided. “Here, let me show you.”
There was a pause and then a slight pop. Thor took his hand off Loki’s back to grab his hips and lift so that Loki could get his knees under him. Then the hand returned to his back, slightly higher this time, keeping Loki’s chest and head pressed into the fur. With his knee, Thor nudged Loki’s legs apart so that he was spread and open, and Loki couldn’t help the little moan at the thought of how he must look. Thor chuckled and Loki felt his hand slip between his buttocks to brush across his entrance. From the smooth slide, they had to be covered in oil, and Loki realized Thor must have had some with him.
“See?” Thor murmured. “I’ll always take care of you, Loki. You just have to trust me.”
Any response Loki could have given was swallowed as Thor breached him with a single finger. Slowly, carefully, patiently, Thor worked him open, thrusting in a mimicry of what was to come with first one finger, then two, then three. And the whole time, he kept his other hand firmly planted in Loki’s back, kept him pressed down into the thick, white fur of the bearskin beneath him.
Loki couldn’t help his response, the way his back arched, lifting his hips higher, seeking more. But he kept tugging at his arms, trying to worm them free of his shirt. Thor merely tightened his fist, twisting the material so that Loki’s arms were drawn inexorably back and together, the material now more of a true binding, rather than simply a hindrance.
Thor’s fingers brushed over that spot inside him, and Loki groaned, his breath ruffling the fur below his face. He was covered in a light sheen of sweat now, and the thick fur, while soft, was sticking to him, making his skin prickle. “Thor,” he groaned, “let me up.”
“No.” For emphasis, Thor pressed down harder, forcing the air from Loki’s lungs, and for a moment he truly struggled before Thor eased his grip and allowed him to move, if only a bit.
“Enough,” his brother growled and slipped his fingers out. There was a pause as Thor shifted himself into place while still keeping a firm hold on Loki and then his cock was sliding in, hard and hot, inch by inch until he was fully seated.
Loki writhed, wanting the freedom to move and push back, but the same hand that wielded Mjolnir with such ease kept him where he was, and Loki knew that this was where he would stay until Thor decided otherwise.
The thought should have filled him with righteous indignation.
Instead, it made him moan, begging without words for Thor to fuck him.
Thor withdrew, then thrust back in, a smooth, easy glide of flesh. He kept his strokes slow and full, pulling out nearly all the way before sinking back in. The slow pace was enough to drive Loki mad, and he babbled out curses mixed with pleas. Above him, Thor chuckled, a rich, deep rumble of laughter and took pity on him, speeding up his thrusts and driving in with enough force to elicit small grunts from Loki with each one.
But not even the indefatigable Thor could keep up that pace forever, and his control began to fray. His grip on Loki’s hip tightened, almost hard enough to bruise, and he pulled on the cloth fisted in his other hand, drawing Loki’s body up off the bearskin, holding him parallel to the floor above it. Loki tensed, doing what he could to hold the position himself. He was full, so full of both his brother and desire that it was difficult. He wanted nothing more than to come, to release the tension building within him. But he couldn’t quite come just from this, and with Thor’s hands holding him in place, his own still trapped, there was no touch upon his cock to push him over the edge and bring relief.
With each increasingly erratic thrust, Loki felt Thor tense and flex, growing closer himself. He came, suddenly, Loki’s name a groan upon his lips, and Loki nearly sobbed at the feel of his brother’s seed filling him, his own arousal untouched and neglected, aching.
Thor lowered Loki back down quickly but carefully, draping himself over his back while he caught his breath. Loki whined, shifted his hips, trying to draw attention to his need. After a minute, Thor pulled out from Loki’s body and moved so that he wasn’t between Loki’s legs. Instead, he settled himself down on his side next to Loki, pulling his brother down with him, hand still wrapped in Loki’s shirt. It was a little awkward, but Thor used to his free hand to guide Loki.
Once Loki was lying on his side, Thor slotted his body behind his brother, soft, damp cock pressed against Loki’s ass. He gently pulled Loki’s left leg up and over his own, parting them and then reached over Loki’s hip for his cock. With fingers still slippery with oil, he stroked Loki, hands warm and rough, despite the slick left on them. Loki trust into the tight circle of Thor’s hand eagerly, bucking his hips for more, panting and writhing against his brother.
He came, caught between the heat of the fire in front of him and the heat of Thor’s body behind him, his arms still caught between their bodies. His seed flowed down over Thor’s fingers to drip onto the bearskin, visible only by the way the firelight glinted off of it. And only then did Thor release his hold on Loki’s shirt, letting his arms relax. He pulled the garment off completely, using it to wipe Loki and his hand, and then tossing it away behind him.
Loki slumped, boneless onto the rug, feeling content and fulfilled. Sleep was mere moments away, as it always was after something like this. The futile struggle, the capitulation, the ecstasy at the whim of another…it fed something in him, sated some need even he couldn’t articulate. Here, in this place, in Thor’s arms, he felt safe, the relinquishing of his control something to be embraced rather than feared.
He felt Thor’s arms come around him, pulling him in tight, and Thor brushed his lips across his temple. “Sleep, Brother,” he murmured. “I have you.”
They slept late, tangled together under the thick blankets of the large bed. Morning sunlight peeked through the gaps in the heavy curtains, falling across the bed in a narrow slant of light, and Thor grunted, throwing his arm over his eyes to block it. Beside him, Loki stirred and shifted, and Thor felt the bed dip as he went to get up.
Immediately, Thor rolled, catching Loki’s wrist in one hand and keeping him from standing up. Without a word, he pulled Loki back down, sliding him across the smooth sheets, until he was tucked against Thor.
Loki huffed in irritation. “Let me go, Thor.”
“No,” he said sleepily, nuzzling into the crook of Loki’s neck.
Loki squirmed and shifted, but with one of Thor’s arms solidly holding him around the waist, the motion only served to grind him into Thor’s morning erection, one that was rapidly something to take care of rather than just fade away.
“Unbelievable,” Loki muttered, going still.
Thor’s hand wandered down across the flat plane of Loki’s stomach to his groin where he brushed against Loki’s own hardened cock. “Oh, ho,” he chuckled. “Look what we have here.”
“It’s a simple physical reaction, you ass. It’s not like I enjoy being manhandled as soon as I wake up in the morning.”
“You’re right,” Thor murmured, lifting himself up and sliding across Loki’s body. “You love it.”
Loki turned his head away when Thor went to kiss him. His hands pushed against Thor’s shoulders, but he might as well have been pushing against a wall. Thor didn’t budge. “Get off of me.”
“No.” Thor grinned down at Loki, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed and his mouth pursed in a frown. Once, that would have made him hesitate, afraid of pushing his brother too far or by taking him by force. But time—and one spectacularly disastrous night with a keg of mead—had taught him that if Loki truly did not wish his attentions, then he would not suffer them. He might complain and pretend he didn’t want this, but Thor knew that since Loki allowed it, he wanted it.
Sliding back and sitting back on his knees, Thor reached for Loki’s hips, then slid his hands down to Loki’s knees and then his slender calves. It was no effort to put one on each side of his own hips, tugging Loki down until he was flush against him. Then he leaned forward, trying again for a kiss, and when Loki’s hands swatted at him, he caught them, holding both slim wrists in one hand.
Loki tugged against the restraint, but Thor ignored him, stretching out above his brother, pulling their arms up over Loki’s head and pinning his wrists to the bed. Thor loved holding Loki’s arms down. It was pleasing to shift and move his brother as he wanted—and pleasing that Loki allowed it—but there was something about taking control of his arms that thrilled Thor. Loki’s power lay in his hands and his mouth, words and spells wielded as effortlessly as warrior wielded weapons, and to have control of those was a heady rush. Later, Thor thought, he might bind Loki’s hands behind his back, and put Loki’s mouth to use on his cock, preventing Loki from using either. But for right now….
The movement shifted the muscles of Loki’s chest and arms, pulling them flat and tight, and Thor used his free hand to flick at Loki’s nipples. They peaked and Thor would have loved to bite and suck at them for awhile, but if he was to keep Loki where he was, the angle was impossible. Instead, he settled for playing with them, watching Loki’s pale skin darken with a blush and feeling his thighs tighten around his hips.
Once sufficiently relaxed—Loki had stopped tugging on Thor’s hold—Thor shifted his attentions. He trailed his hand down, lightly tickling as he went. Loki laughed, unable to help himself, and squirmed away from the teasing fingertips. Thor laughed, too, and dipped a hand past Loki’s rigid cock and down to part his ass, exploring. There was enough oil and Loki was still loose enough that this was possible without being forced to let Loki go.
“Thor,” Loki groaned as he stretched him carefully. Possession he might want, but he would cause his brother no undue discomfort. It took longer without additional slick and by the time he judged Loki was ready, the other man was writhing on the sheets. Grinning, Thor caught one of Loki’s legs at the knee, pulling it up and bending it so that his thigh lay flat against his chest. Thor took a moment to admire the sheer flexibility of his brother and then carefully lined himself up.
He went slow, as both of his hands were currently occupied, and they groaned in unison as he sank in. It was slower than it had been last night, the edge taken off their hunger, and he thrust almost lazily, content with the fuller, deeper strokes. Loki’s arms strained against their confinement, muscles standing out against the white skin, but they were straining toward Thor, as if he wanted to bring his arms down around his brother rather than escape. Thor pondered letting him do so for a moment, but discarded the idea. He liked holding Loki this way far too much.
Instead, he released Loki’s leg. It shifted a bit without his hand there to hold it, but Loki kept it where it was as best he could, pressing it against Thor’s side. Thor spat in his hand and then reached down for Loki’s cock, closing his hand around it. Loki had been forced to wait for him last night, so it was only fitting that Thor take care of him first now. He stroked to the same tempo he thrust into his brother’s body, from root to tip And back again with no particular hurry, brushing his thumb over the tip with every up stroke.
It didn’t take long to bring Loki to the edge, panting and sweating, tossing his head back and forth between his arms. “Please,” he mumbled. “Thor, please.”
“Of course, Loki,” Thor panted, and pressed down to kiss Loki’s glistening forehead before pulling back to increase the stroking of his hand. Beneath him, Loki twisted and whined, bucking up to meet Thor’s movements. His eyes were squeezed tight, his mouth was slack and Thor wanted nothing more than to lick into its depths, but he held back. Not yet.
Thor could feel the change in Loki, his breath hissing in and out, his muscles taut, his balls drawn up so high and tight they almost disappeared. He was close, so close, and Thor couldn’t tell if he was holding himself back or it the stimulation just wasn’t enough. So he squeezed with both hands, one around Loki’s cock and the other around his wrists, and with a sharp, almost surprised cry, Loki came, ropes of his seed splattering across his belly. Thor milked him through the last aftershocks of his orgasm, having to stop thrusting against the tight clench of Loki’s body lest he lose himself too.
Loki finally eased back against the bed, limp, whining and shifting against each touch of Thor’s hand, and Thor gently let him go, draping his arms around his neck and wrapping his legs around his hips. Pulling Loki as close as he could, he held his hips, bending down to kiss Loki’s slack mouth, sweep his tongue into the wet cavern, Loki’s own tongue responding languidly. He resumed thrusting, Loki’s body relaxed and pliant around him and it wasn’t long before he could feel his own pleasure cresting. He spilled with a harsh cry into Loki’s willing body, hips jerking in short, stuttering thrusts while Loki held onto him and pulled him close.
Unable to help himself, Thor let his weight settle on Loki for a moment before gently disengaging and falling onto his side next to him. He reached out and pulled Loki against him once more, this time face to face. Loki draped an arm across his shoulders, winding a hand into Thor long hair while Thor pulled one of Loki’s legs up over his hip. Thor slipped his free arm over Loki’s back and pressed them tightly together, heedless of the mess of sweat and seed between them.
“We’re going to need a bath,” Loki grumbled. “But I’m not sure my legs are going to work right now.”
“Then I’ll carry you,” Thor chuckled, startling an amused laugh from Loki.
“I’m not a child, Thor.”
“I know.” Thor nuzzled close, seeking a bit more sleep before they would have to get up. “But I want to.”
Loki hummed contentedly, tipping his head back to allow Thor more access to mouth at his neck. “Then I suppose I’ll have to let you.”
Thor rumbled his approval and let his eyes slide shut, soothed by the feel of Loki’s hand carding through his hair, and the feel of his breath upon his cheek.