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Thor awakens abruptly in the dead of night.
For a moment he wonders what has awoken him from his slumber, thinking woefully of the wonderful dream he had just been having, when something small and sharp pokes him in the ribs.
He grunts in pain, then rolls over to see a figure crouching on the bed. His face is hidden in the shadows of the room, but Thor can still see the raven hair and jade eyes that glint even in the darkness. There is no mistaking who the figure is.
“Loki,” Thor grumbles, sounding a little petulant, but too tired to care all that much, “what are you doing?”
Loki’s eyes dart around the room, as if checking for intruders hiding in the shadows, before he leans down to whisper in Thor’s ear.
“I had a nightmare, Thor.”
Thor sighs. His little brother has been plagued with bad dreams for as long as he can remember. Once, Loki would simply knock on his parent’s bedroom door and allow Frigga to sing him to sleep again. Now, he comes to Thor. Thor had once spoken of it to his mother, but she had scolded him for his selfishness and given him a look so cold Thor hadn’t even argued back, instead choosing to escape the weight of her judgemental gaze and find his brother.
“Come, then. Get in.” Thor says, tugging at the sheets.
Loki moves off the bed to let Thor draw back the heavy blankets, then climbs in and settles himself on his back, eyes wide and staring at the high ceiling above. Thor knows he will make no move to come closer unless Thor initiates it, so he jabs Loki in his side until he turns to face him.
Thor puts an arm around Loki’s waist, rubbing soothing circles on his brother’s back and closes his eyes, knowing Loki will follow. He doesn’t stop his stroking until he hears Loki’s breathing slow, feels the puffs of air on his face come after longer intervals, and then, he lets himself fall back into peaceful sleep, hopeful of returning to that dream he had been having. It had been such a good dream.
***
When Thor rouses from his sleep, he knows instantly what has caused it.
Loki’s presence is an entity in the room, impossible to ignore, and his magic crackles in the still air.
Thor sits up, feeling the sheets fall around his waist, baring his chest to the cool breeze that blows in gently from the open window. He looks at his brother and Loki stares back, his face blank and neutral, unreadable to most, but not to Thor. Thor knows exactly why Loki is here.
He pats the space beside him, draws the covers back around his shoulders and waits for Loki to join him.
A moment later the heat of Loki’s body washes over his back. He feels a slight pull of the sheets and smiles a little, pulling them right back, before closing his eyes.
“Night, brother.”
“Goodnight, Thor.”
***
Something sharp and pointed is digging into Thor’s side. He shifts slightly without opening his eyes and is gratified when the thing pressing into his stomach disappears.
A moment later, he feels it again.
Huffing a little he opens his eyes, squinting in the dark, and glances to his side to find the culprit.
Sif sighs in her sleep and rolls over, dragging half of the excessive number of blankets with her. Her black hair fans across the pillows, a stark contrast against the crisp white of the silk, long and so soft and Thor longs to run his fingers through it. He takes a moment to admire her beauty in the pale moonlight, then sits up and searches for whatever was disturbing him so.
His fingers brush over something hard and sharp and he snatches the tiny item, holding it out in front of him to identify it. It is one of Sif’s hair clips.
Thor chuckles lightly to himself and moves to place the clip on the table beside the bed. And that’s when he notices him.
Loki is standing by the far window. He still wears the lavish outfit he had worn for the banquet that night, the ornate tunic glittering with tiny jewels that wink in the wan light. His hair is slightly out of place – unusual for Loki who always spends such careful attention to his appearance – and his cheeks are stained a rosy pink that Thor thinks looks rather attractive on his brother.
Their eyes meet, dazzling green on sparkling blue, and Thor opens his mouth to say something, to apologise – though for what, he isn’t quite sure – but Loki vanishes before the words make it to his tongue and Thor is left gaping dumbly at the sudden emptiness of the room.
Beside him, Sif turns again and one of her hands comes to lie on his stomach.
Thor doesn’t find sleep again till morning when he falls exhaustedly into a light doze at breakfast.
***
Thor collapses on the too-small sofa bed, panting harshly. The springs groan tiredly under the movement, the sound barely noticeable beneath heaving breaths.
He turns his head to smile gently at Jane. She smiles back, dreamily, still out of breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she attempts to get her breath back.
She leans over and plants a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“That was lovely.” she murmurs.
Thor’s lips curve upwards and he wraps a hand around the back of neck, pulls her forward and crushes their mouths together in a much more heated kiss that lasts until Jane is forced to pull away for air.
She smirks at him. Her lips are shiny and red, a little swollen, and Thor suddenly feels the heat of desire run through him. Jane crosses a leg over his, moves so her body is half covering Thor’s. Their skin is still damp with sweat from the earlier exertion, their skin sliding from the slickness that covers their bodies as both begin to move against each other.
Their mouths meet again, their movements becoming more rhythmic, hands running over bare flesh, nails scraping sensitive skin.
Thor kisses and sucks at Jane’s exposed neck and she leans her head to the side to provide him better access.
Thor thinks he hears a small noise, the creak of a floorboard, and glances over Jane’s shoulder instinctively. His body stiffens and tenses.
Loki looks at Jane, then focuses his gaze on Thor. His upper lip is curled in disgust.
“I came to speak with you, brother, but I see you are otherwise preoccupied.” he hisses, sneering at Jane who still hasn’t noticed Loki’s arrival - Thor thinks Loki’s magic has something to do with that.
“Another time, perhaps.” Loki says, before he teleports away.
“Thor?”
Thor looks into Jane’s slightly confused face, and attempts a weak smile.
“I – I’m afraid I’m feeling a little unwell,” he begins, “perhaps we could – “
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Sure.” Jane says, hurriedly moving off him with an expression of concern and insecurity. “Is there anything I can do?”
Thor shakes his head and stands up.
“I think I shall go for a walk.” he says, and starts to redress.
He heads out the door to Jane’s bedroom without a backward glance.
***
Thor’s vision swims in and out of focus, his stomach turning unpleasantly as he tries to steady his gaze. He feels himself stumble over his own feet, falling, falling, till his knees hit the dirt ground. Mjolnir slips from his lax fingers, his shoulders slump, his hands, palms flat on the ground, the only thing holding him up.
His arms buckle and his body drops with a loud thump. He gasps in desperate breaths, blinks against the foggy haze that surrounds him, pressing in, suffocating him.
And with one final wheezing inhale, he descends into blackness.
The air in the room crackles faintly and Loki appears in an almost imperceptible green flash of light.
He observes the cell quietly. The walls are thick, the bars strong and metal, neither of which would be enough to contain his brother, but the hum of magic he detects, smothering the room like a blanket, would certainly prevent his escape.
He mutters a few choice words under his breath, feels the weight of the spell lift.
Loki then moves to examine his brother.
Thor has been drugged, that much is obvious, and though Loki does not recognise the exact compound now flowing in Thor’s veins, he knows the effects will wear off in a few hours.
He strokes Thor’s blond locks, carefully brushing them out of his face in a gesture that might appear almost tender.
Loki stands and exits the cell.
He reappears in another room not far from the one he had previously been in. Thor’s captor stares at him calmly.
Loki stalks forward with the predatory grace of a cat on the hunt.
“Doom, you and I have some things to discuss.” he says, and the sudden fear that washes over Doom’s face, exposed by the absence of his metal mask, is delicious.
***
Thor feels the bitter wind rush past him, biting at his flesh as he speeds over vast expanses of green land, blue water, grey buildings. The colours blur together as Mjolnir carries him further, faster until Thor sees his destination.
He lands with the ease of practise, not even the slightest stumble as his feet hit the ground.
Thor spots him immediately.
He trudges through mud and tall blades of grass, wet and soft from recent rainfall, crossing the field to where his brother sits, comfortably leaning against an old oak tree.
When he reaches Loki’s side, he bends down to join him, sitting back against the tree with his legs outstretched in front of him.
Loki’s eyes are closed, though Thor knows he is not asleep. The moonlight spills over his pale form, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, soft and relaxed as they only ever are in repose. He is quite beautiful.
“Brother, I – “
“Hush, Thor,” Loki says, “I know.”
Loki opens his eyes and together they stare out at the open meadow. In the distance a herd of sheep are grazing. An owl hoots, crickets hum, and the grass sways with the wind.
Loki lays his head on Thor’s shoulder.
“I love you, brother.” Thor murmurs against Loki’s hair, pressing a soft kiss against raven locks.
“And I, you, Thor.