Loki’s eyes are wide, his cheeks pink. He watches Thor’s every movement, somehow looking younger than his years, and Thor feels clumsy and reckless, mead and Loki’s gaze warming his blood.
Loki reaches for Thor, but Thor is already upon him. Pressing into the circle of Loki’s arms, his weight pinning Loki against the bed, kissing him deep and hungry and needy.
His hands are hurried as they move over Loki’s clothes, tugging at laces and seams until Loki makes a frustrated noise in his throat and begins to remove the garments himself.
The sound of it, the knowledge that Thor could inspire such want in his brother, that he is not the only one impatient for this, sends a shiver through Thor’s body.
They have kissed like this before, many times, alone in Loki’s room, a secret from all who know them.
Tonight, however, there is an energy that skitters through Thor’s bones, that makes him restless, that makes him want more.
Loki’s hands had been on him tonight. In full view of the members of the court, of their friends, of their parents. And the touches may have appeared innocent to those watching eyes, but to Thor they were a distraction, a promise, a threat, Loki teasing him with what he may have only once they were alone.
It was a dangerous spectacle, and Thor had been driven almost out of his skin with need.
Their kisses turn rougher, more forceful than any they have shared before. Clothes shed with haste, and they have rutted before but rarely without the barrier of britches between them. This time Loki’s hands do not hesitate as they push clothing away, as they urge Thor to do the same, until they are naked and sliding together, flesh slick and flushed and achingly hard.
“Brother,” Loki whispers, and Thor cannot hold back a low, earnest groan for the desire in that voice.
Loki takes Thor’s face between his hands, places a chaste kiss upon his lips.
“Brother,” he says again, eyes bright and full. “I wish to feel you. Inside of me.”
The noise that spills from Thor’s mouth this time is closer to a growl, and he surges forward, demands Loki’s mouth. Dizzy, pulse throbbing between his legs, stab of arousal to his stomach.
Such an act is too much, too far. Forbidden, and something Thor has promised himself they shall never indulge in, the final taboo. He has told Loki as much, and yet tonight he finds the reasons for his hesitation escaping him, lust clouding his mind.
Tonight Loki shall have his wish.
It does not matter that he can feel himself trembling, for he has always hidden his fear behind bravado, and he wills his hands steady as he runs them up Loki’s thighs, his lips to Loki’s throat.
He does not see the expression that steals across Loki’s face, eyes dark and intent as he studies his brother, lips pulled back into a triumphant smile.