A/N: Tu me manques means "I miss you," in French, literally translated as "You are missing from me." "Manques" by itself can mean gaps, or emptinesses. There is the explanation of the title, I guess. Sorry for inaccuracies if my French is somewhat incorrect, I haven't studied it in forever.
Written to: Exposition - Takenobu, crosspost from AO3.
Loki had never been so angry with anybody. Well, of course, that had been before Malekith had decided to pull some absolutely ridiculous stunts, such as landing Dark Elven ships in the middle of Washington, D.C., and obviously he'd known that Malekith had always been a bit on the wacko side (a lot on the wacko side, if he was being really and truly honest with himself) but this by far was the most deranged thing he'd done since eternities ago. (The last absolutely irrational event Malekith had been involved in in Loki's recent memory - and that already spanned millennia - was his attempt back in the 700s to try to seduce Byleistr. Byleistr, still relatively young, had been all too willing to get into bed with the Dark Elf, but upon finding out that Malekith actually wanted to get to know him first, promptly turned him down. Some said Malekith still carried a tiny lock of Byleistr's hair in his personal possessions.)
The point being that Malekith was absolutely batshit insane.
Loki knew a bit about Dark Elven lore and their biology, knew that sometimes they went into inexplicable rages and fevers that made them do odd things, but Malekith truly was pushing the limit with this one. As previously stated, he'd landed a blasted Dark Elf ship straight in the middle of Washington, D.C., and all the Midgardians were running around like poultry with their heads chopped off, like they were becoming personal witnesses to Ragnarok or something. And sure, Loki could understand, he'd been through a rebellious phase once himself (namely, the Tesseract incident), but this was really, truly getting out of hand.
Malekith's little stunt had caused Thor to take leave of Loki for two weeks already, and Loki was getting well and truly fed up of puttering about the halls of the castle and rereading books he'd already read three times over. He'd even started to talk to the tapestries (he enjoyed talking to Modi, also, but Modi's language skills were not quite developed yet, and Loki often found himself starved of intellectual conversation; Jory was not one for chitchat, that much the tiny snake had already made clear).
And, if Loki was being well and truly honest with himself, he missed Thor. Everything about him, from his deep voice to his strong jaw, right down to the idiotic smile he always gave Loki after he'd completed the simplest of tasks.
And of course, the sex. That was worth sobbing over, to be sure. Loki missed that particular aspect of the relationship horribly. He occasionally used the emerald toy Thor had procured for him months ago, but even that device with all its lovely ridges and nubs and bumps rubbing up in delightful ways against his insides couldn't calm the itch that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the junction of his thighs. He ached for Thor's fingers, for his cock, for his tongue, for something, anything, and Thor hadn't even been kind enough to leave Mjolnir behind so that Loki might have a bit of fun with it. Not that he'd ever tell Thor about those times in the dead of night, when Thor was fast in drunken dreams, when Loki was still wanting for more and Mjolnir was a fast companion...
And so Loki moped about the halls of Asgard, pouting and wishing Thor were there with him. But apparently Thor had other duties to attend to, as he'd pointed out before leaving.
"I have to go, fairest," he'd told Loki as he rubbed his back. Loki had been half asleep at the time, and so had only mumbled something he couldn't quite remember. "The other Avengers will be expecting me. Surely it would not do if Malekith were to take over Midgard; he has already destroyed Svartalfheim quite beyond anybody's expectations. And then where would we get your delightful Pop-Tarts from?"
And in that state, of course Loki was bound to agree. Where indeed would he procure those delicious rectangles of pastry and crunchy sugar if not Midgard? Truly, it would be a shame if Malekith were allowed free reign over Midgard, of course Thor had to go and save the realm, there was no question about it.
And Loki was sincerely regretting that decision right about now. He just wanted Thor to come home and press him into the sheets with his delightfully big hands just perfect for cradling one of Loki's thighs and holding it up over the crook of his arm...
Loki shook his head to clear his wanton thoughts. No, this really would not do, he decided as he asked Frigga to watch over Modi for a bit. Frigga was all too happy to oblige, and Loki left the pair of them giggling in the nursery over some tiny sparkly butterflies Frigga conjured from thin air.
He walked quickly to the Bifrost, his cloak swirling around his ankles. Heimdall eyed him suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask where the young prince wanted to go. As Loki disappeared to Midgard, Heimdall had a strong feeling that he already knew what was about to transpire, and firmly determined that he would most definitely not be observing Midgard for quite a few hours at least.
Much to his dismay, when Loki popped up into the streets of New York, no one was particularly surprised. To the contrary, the New Yorkers, many of whom were still traipsing home after a long night at the bars, were all staggering drunkenly and laughing raucously to each other and some even had the nerve to toss coins and old bottle caps at him, thinking he was some sort of street performer. Loki huffed as quarters pinged off his boots and stormed off to try and find Thor.
When he got to the Avengers Tower, he was even more upset to find that it was completely and utterly deserted. When he tried the front door, Jarvis, in a very no-nonsense sort of tone, told him that he was most certainly not welcome there, not after the incident with the master Stark and the attempted invasion of Earth.
And since Jarvis was a computer system, he was not particularly impressed by Loki's pouting.
Jarvis did, however, tell Loki that it might be wise to try and phone Thor at a certain number. Loki thanked the system, albeit a bit huffily, and went to Darcy's. He knew she had a telephone, he'd seen her use it before. And perhaps she would be willing to allow him to use the device as well...
When Loki rapped smartly on Darcy's apartment door, he was more than shocked when his elder brother, Helblindi, opened the door.
Helblindi was equally surprised, if the subtle raising of his brows was anything to go by.
"What are you doing here?" Loki spluttered, and surely it couldn't help that Helblindi only had a sheet wrapped around his waist, and nothing else on. The elder frost prince's glamour was fading in certain spots, but the pale Midgardian skin he had fashioned for himself, or at least the parts that Loki could see, were flushed with pink.
"Who is it?" Darcy shouted from further back in the apartment.
"It's nobody," Helblindi said over his shoulder, staring Loki in the eye the entire time.
"Then come back to bed, I'm getting cold!" was the reply.
Loki just stared at Helblindi, and Helblindi shook his head subtly, and closed the door in Loki's face, leaving him gaping at the brass number 42 on the door.
The bored looking girl at the motel front desk snapped her pink bubblegum at Loki as she slid a key card over the grimy surface. Loki picked up the card very gingerly, and sincerely prayed that the room he had been given wasn't infested with fleas or some other such annoyance.
Much to his relief, the room, though spartan in nature, appeared relatively clean, aside from a few stains on the carpet. Loki supposed those all happened at some point, and just chalked it up to some clumsy Midgardian spillage. It was probably ketchup, he decided, as he toed at the stain. Or wine. He hoped it wasn't blood.
He fluffed up the rather flat pillows on the bed and settled himself in, reaching for the telephone and cradling the receiver against his shoulder as he read the numbers he'd scribbled onto the palm of his hand earlier and dialed.
"Hello?"
It was a great relief to hear Thor's voice again, crackly and tired though it was, and Loki had to fight hard to keep the gasp of delight out of his voice.
"Hello?" Thor repeated, and Loki realised he had yet to speak.
"Thor?" he asked, and he could almost hear the cogs in Thor's brain creaking around slowly as he attempted to process the voice.
"...Loki? Love? Is that you?" Thor finally said after a great while of waiting.
"Indeed it is," Loki said, and he really could not keep the smile out of his voice this time around. "It is me."
He could hear Thor fiddling around with buttons, and the phone made a beeping noise, playing a sort of metallic tune into Loki's ear. "Are you trapped inside?" Thor wanted to know. "How am I to rescue you? Ought I to call Anthony for assistance?"
"No, no, no," Loki insisted before Thor could start pounding the phone against the wall or some other equally barbaric thing. "I am perfectly fine, I must assure you. I am well and good."
Thor thought about this for a few moments before deciding that Loki was not lying. "That is good to hear," he said cautiously, as if he was still entertaining the possibility that Loki was trapped inside a tiny Nokia device. "To what do I owe this pleasure of hearing your voice?"
Loki bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. "I have...missed you," he said after a while. "I desired to hear your voice."
He could hear the grin in Thor's voice when he next replied. "I have missed you as well, love," Thor said gently. "I am sorry I have been away for longer than I originally intended. Malekith is proving particularly stubborn. You know he is wont to do this sometimes, a ploy for attention. I must imagine it gets quite dull in Svartalfheim from time to time."
"Yes," Loki agreed. "I must imagine so."
"Have you been quite lonely?" Thor asked.
"I have been," Loki admitted. "I have missed everything about you quite greatly. Even the absence of your barbaric ways has been duly noted. Modi is probably wondering where you've gone off to, why Papa hasn't barged into the nursery at his slightest whimper. Perhaps he think he is losing control over you."
Thor laughed heartily, and Loki felt the vibrations fill him with warmth as he twisted the phone cord around his fingers.
"I promise you I will try to resolve this conflict as quickly as possible," Thor said, once his laughter had died down. "I too wish to be home. I would very much enjoy feasting heartily, large chalices of ale at my closest reach, then perhaps a warm soak in the tubs with those lavender satchets you are particularly fond of, and then I would like to lie with you and roll you into the bedclothes. Unfortunately, the other Avengers insist I not partake in luxuries such as these so my battle wits will be sharp. I have told them time and again that Malekith is not a force that needs worrying about, that he will burn himself out with his own grandeur, but they absolutely refuse to listen. Apparently this town holds many Midgardian accomplishments. A white house, I believe Steven said. I for the life of me cannot imagine why a house coloured white is so particularly special. I could paint any house white and call it a white house. But this one in particular is, I guess, the home of a great power. Something to that effect."
Loki smiled as he listened to Thor talking. His deep, warm voice, and the way the syllables rolled off his tongue came over the telephone wires and wormed its way into the crevices of Loki's ears, sweet and rich like dark chocolate, and Loki could feel the itching start in the pit of his stomach again.
"I want you," he said quietly, cutting Thor off as Thor began to ramble about some sort of declaration that Steven said was crucial to the integrity of the country. "I desire you."
Thor paused, before sighing sadly. "I wish I could have you, fairest, but at the present moment it would not do. I am not able to give you my full attention, and I must needs be present at all times in case Malekith decides to engage in more folly."
"Talk to me," Loki asked, and if anyone inquired, he was most definitely not begging. "Can you at least do that?"
"I suppose," Thor said, and Loki could hear the curiosity in his voice. "What ought I to talk to you about?"
Loki cradled the receiver between his shoulder and his ear as he reached down to unfasten his trousers and push them down. "I wish to hear you tell me sordid things, deeds that you would wish to do with me upon your return. Tell me how you wish to have me."
There was yet another pause during which Loki rubbed at an errant stretch mark on his inner thigh.
Thor finally cleared his throat, his voice a bit husky, his words a bit rough with want. "I am not particularly skilled at these things," he said quietly. "But I suppose I shall try, if only to satisfy your wanton whims.
"I suppose I would have to have you the first time I see you at home next. Pressed up against a wall, my hand clasping over your mouth as I pushed into you so that you wouldn't cry out so loud and have everyone know what sorts of lewd activities we were getting up to. Although I do not suppose you would mind that as much."
Loki bit his lip softly, whimpering as he began to stroke himself. His cock, sensitive after some time without attention, hardened quickly in his palm.
"What else would you do?" he asked, and he was a bit ashamed to find his voice all breathless and quivering. "How else would you love me?"
"Perhaps again in the baths." Thor's voice was deep and thick and rough, and Loki shuddered at the husky tones in his voice. "I would like to press you against the edge of the tub, and the water would slosh out onto the floor, and you would probably protest and try to push me away because it would completely defeat the purpose of having a bath in the first place."
Loki worried the head of his cock with his right thumb, whining low in his throat as the head wept clear, sticky fluid into his hand. It stood jutting proudly from the junction of his thighs, flushed and aching, and Loki really wanted nothing more than Thor at the present moment.
"And then, perhaps later that night, when everybody was already fast in dreams, I would roll you onto your side, and you would tell me that you were far too tired but you would spread your legs wanton anyway because you could not help it, and I would thrust into you and rock you into the sheets and you would come, splatter my hand with your seed and my name on your lips, and I would love you that much and as best as I know how until you were fully and completely assured of it even as I slid you into your dreams."
Loki gasped, crying out as he came, staining his hand and his shirt with white. As he floated down gently, he heard Thor groaning his name, and could only imagine Thor with his armour lying in pieces on the floor of wherever he was currently residing, his undergarments bunched around his thighs as he stroked himself and imagined it was Loki.
Breathlessly, Loki murmured into the phone, "I, too, would love you that much, and much more, as best I know how, wrapped tight and slick around you, and I would have you like that always."
There was a moment of pure silence before Thor let out an unintelligible shout, and Loki could only imagine the curve of his brows, the purse of his lips as he came over his hand, over his clothes.
Once Thor had sufficiently recovered, Loki made him promise to come home quickly, and Thor laughed, assured him that he would most certainly try, and that Loki would have to make good on those promises.
Loki dozed off with Thor's soft words in his ear, talking him into sleep.
When Thor returned to Asgard a few weeks later, Malekith having gotten bored of Midgard, he made sure to track down Loki and have him in all the ways he'd described.