Soft, warm lips kissed along his neck, grazing his skin gently then placing slow, deliberate kisses on the curve of his exposed throat, the dip in his collar bone, the angle of his jaw, behind his ear, finding that sweet spot which made him groan with pleasure and longing. "Please!" He gasped as calloused fingers traced patterns over his bare chest, and warm breath ghosted over his cheek. "Don't, please stop!" Loki cried, feeling his resistance slipping away from him as it had done so many times before.
He felt the probing fingers retreat from his thoughts, slipping away and leaving him feeling violated and helpless, snapping him back to this warped reality.
Loki sat up, his body shaking and a cold sweat beading on his skin. "That's private," He hissed, catching himself before he fell back against the dust covered ground weakly, his whole body charged with adrenaline and his skin prickling with sensitivity. He remained where he had fallen as his father had delved into the recesses of his conscious, retrieving that meagre scrap of sinful pleasure the prince kept tucked away in the farthest corner of his mind. Compiled from fragmented dreams and snatches of long forgotten memories, this artificial hope, this tiny piece of personal delight was all he had. It was his and his alone.
Laufey chuckled darkly. "Interesting, you long for such compassion, such love, you want intimacy, the touch of another being, their caress-"
"I said enough!" Loki barked angrily, struggling to stand. "You had no right to take that from me," he growled.
Laufey merely smiled, he knew he had Loki in his palm of his hand, and could manipulate him with those suppressed desires to do his will, and tormenting the boy brought him a certain gratifying feeling.
"I was right to leave you, my child, you are weak, powerless. Odin would have done you a great mercy in ending your life when he found you." Laufey brought back his hand and struck his son on the back of his head, the blow enough to send Loki sprawling to the ground. "Pathetic."
Loki fell to the floor of his prison cell in Asgard, his eyes close defiantly against the pain. He crawled to the bed in the centre of the large room, his holding bay while Odin decided on a suitable punishment for his betrayal, and tucked his legs beneath him, curling his body protectively against the memories.
His dreams were consumed with the sensation of hands running up and down his naked body, mapping the surface of his flesh, teeth, lips, tongue, licking, nipping, sucking, biting red contusions on his sensitive skin. Loki moaned with pleasure in his sleep, his body straining for the touch of the one he knew could never be his. He woke again suddenly to the distant sound of hoof beats echoing around the empty room, alone and frustrated, his heart hammering swift as a bird against the cage of his ribs. His brother had returned.
Loki lay back, his flushed skin cooled by the sheets, feeling vulnerable and angry and embarrassed at the intensity of his emotions. He spread his arms across the expanse of his mattress, feeling the empty air where he longed for another to lay beside him. He knew it was wrong, a sick fantasy, but he couldn't seem to shake it. He knew not what fine fancy had led him to believe that the one he desired most could ever see him as any more than the treacherous villain Loki believed he had become. As he closed his eyes, Loki allowed a single, desperate tear to escape from his lashes and run over his sharp cheekbone. This was all the self-pity he could allow, and it was all he knew he deserved.
He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but when he woke he felt empty and unfulfilled. But maybe that was just how everything was now. Loki stared unseeingly at the stars he knew shone just beyond his reach above his head. Every conceivable option was closed off from him; he was scared, and afraid. Laufey's power overwhelmed him. He felt no love in his father's cold compassionless gaze, no trace of sentiment or even tolerance towards the forgotten child of long ago. Loki longed for the old times, when Odin was the only father he had ever known, had ever loved. In his seemingly fathomless foolishness he had compromised that world of security and comfort for a biological father who had never even wanted him in the beginning, who abandoned him and left him to die.
The broken prince swung his legs out of the bed and padded towards the high barred window. He gazed out into the night, the many moons and planets outside of Asgard illuminated the city peacefully as its people lay in slumber. Loki traced listless patterns on the strong metal bars of his cell, admiring the view of a world he no longer felt a part of. His gaze fell on his own marred skin, ghostly pale and ethereal in the cold blue light. Loki examined the torn skin, grazes and cuts lacerating his body, remembering.
His reverie was interrupted by the unmistakable heavy footfall outside his chamber. Although he daren't believe it, Loki found himself aching with the desperate hope that it might be him...
With the distant click of a latch, the door swung slowly open. Thor stood in the doorway, looking about as damaged as any person could look, with a crooked smile lifting the corner of his mouth. His clothes were burnt and torn, his golden skin smeared with dirt, and his flaxen hair was matted with sweat and grime. His face was tired, bruised; dark blood crusted on his brow from a deep gash and his lip was split and swollen. Still he smiled as his little brother stepped away from the window and appraised him with a curious expression.
"Thor," Loki breathed, still taking in his brother's appearance. Thor leant against the wall and let Mjolnir slip from his grasp. The hammer fell to the marble floor with a deafening thud, spidery cracks forming a web in the stone. The demigod lurched forwards and staggered uncertainly into the darkened room, his ankle appeared to be hurt, and Loki instinctively hurried to the other man's side, supporting Thor's weight as he fell. 'Old habits and all that' thought the young price as he guided his brother to the bed in the centre of the room.
Loki sat Thor down on the soft covers, one arm placed companionably on his arm. "You shouldn't have come," Loki began, brushing a lock of hair from his brother's brow with care. "But I'm glad you did." He gazed at Thor with such intense adoration, expressing unashamedly the kind of love no sibling should show to their kin. It was the gaze of a lovesick maiden, a hopeless romantic; it was a gaze belonging to a lover.
Thor smiled gently, leaning into Loki's touch like a cat, too tired to resist and too enamoured by guilt to pursue any hard feelings towards the brother who had stood by him for so long. Although they both knew of Loki's true parentage, this had served not to weaken the bond between them, but rather to strengthen it. No matter how hard either of them tried, they could never be apart from the other for any considerable length of time.
Loki let his fingers linger on Thor's cheek for a moment too long, tracing the old battle scars and fresh cuts seeping crimson blood. Where the pads of his fingers came into contact with his brother's skin, the injuries healed, as though wiped clean, and soft, unmarred flesh was left in their wake. Thor gave a little breathy grunt of satisfaction and closed his eyes. Loki had always been genteel and delicate; his thin frame no match for his brother's muscular form and brutish temperament during battle. This caring and protective nature presented itself in him now as the younger prince tended to his brother's wounds. Loki took his brother's hand and caressed it, stroking away the pain and anguish, erasing the memories of the battlefield from Thor's body. He bent his head and touched his lips to his brother's palm; placing careful kisses on each bruise and cut, to every mark on Thor's skin until they were healed.
This was old magic, simple and purposeful. It was unlike the trickery and deception Loki used on a more regular basis. He had no use for it now, his scheming and cunning evasion had failed him, and he knew no friendly faces in Asgard, his old home, none but Thor's.
With a careless wave of Loki's hand, Thor's armour melted from his body and the younger man bent to examine the injury his brother had sustained at his ankle. Thor hissed in pain and a sharp click echoed through the room as his fractured bone was healed. Loki leant his forehead against his brother's knee. "I'm sorry," He whispered, "I never meant to hurt you." That simple statement with its hidden depth quelled some of the uncertainty Thor felt at his brother's actions. The entirety of Asgard detested Loki, but Thor could still see that spark of life and joy and happiness he knew Loki possessed as a child. Thor knew something was wrong, that what Loki had done was not only fuelled by revenge but dominated by his distress and emotional pain. His brother, his Loki was nothing like the monster he had seen on the battlefield in Midgard. Loki was sweet and gentle and funny. Loki was a prankster, and he never failed to make his brother laugh with some clever trick or deceptive illusion. Loki was not a killer, nor a villain. Loki was his brother and Thor would always love him.
The future king of Asgard reached out to his brother and cupped his cheek affectionately, guiding Loki to his feet with a reassuring smile.
"I wish I could tell you how much that means to me, Loki, but I have not the words to express such gratitude." Thor murmured, brushing away the tear which threatened to spill from his brother's enchanting blue eyes. Loki's gaze flickered to Thor's split lip, a single drop of dark blood glistening in the cold light.
Loki smiled shakily, moving a hand to stroke through Thor's blonde hair slowly, leaning in. "Then don't speak." He breathed, closing his eyes and pressing their lips together in a soft and passionate kiss.
Thor gasped and his head jerked instinctively away but Loki held him in place desperately, holding his brother and kissing him with such desire and hopeless love, in a way which was considered wrong and immoral. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and willed Thor to submit to him, just this once, to let him have this one moment to remember him by. As the two brothers kissed, Loki's mouth was filled with the metallic tang of blood. Thor's lip sealed up under the ministrations of his own sibling's pleading mouth as Loki healed the broken skin and repaired his brother's damaged body.
Loki could not remember a time when he had ever wanted a moment to last forever, but this here, in all its imperfection and awkward touches, ragged breathing and forbidden need, was his paradise. Beyond this small pocket of time was the unknown, rejection, disgust, hatred even, from the one he held most dear. Thor could never forgive him for this, and Loki could not bear to see that pain in his brother's eyes when they parted. But, as all things must, it came to an end and Loki pulled away from Thor, his lips stained with his brother's blood and his eyes still shut tight against the judgement of the world. He hated the unfairness of it all, how, of all the maidens in this world and the next, of all the princes and peasants and servants or kings, it was this man here, this king for whom he was destined to fall.
Loki touched his forehead to Thor's, their noses brushing slightly and their breath mingling. He found he could not bring himself to care for what came next, only that it had been worth it, and he would gladly sacrifice everything again if only to feel his brother's careful lips against his own and taste the sweetness of his mouth against the knowledge of the bitterness that followed.
"I did not know you felt this way, brother." Thor said at last, his voice husky and sinfully alluring in the heavy silence. Loki blinked, daring to open his eyes, seeing Thor with his still closed, lips swollen with his hungry kisses, brow furrowed in deep thought. Thor lifted his head, leaving Loki swaying woozily, nauseous with fear. Loki stared at him, his lips slightly parted and wetted by his brother's mouth, cheek turned towards him, prepared for the inevitable strike across his face, or worse.
A second passed, and then another. This was wrong; Loki wanted Thor to beat him, to vent his anger and disgust, to hit him over and over again and to make him bleed. He wanted pain, he wanted punishment for the terrible things he was feeling, the ways in which he imagined his brother, how they would lie together and join their bodies as one, seek pleasure from the other's flesh in ways no siblings ever should. Although they were not bonded by blood, their true bond lay deeper, ingrained into the very fabric of their beings, a precious connection which Loki had jeopardised by his impulsive actions.
"I'm sorry." He choked as he looked away, his body tensed for the blow. He flinched as warm fingers caressed his jaw, tucking a strand of raven black hair behind his ear and trailing over his throat.
"Loki" Thor said, withdrawing and taking his brother's hand, pulling him to sit beside him on the bed once more. Loki met Thor's eyes finally; his shock at what he found there blew him away. Thor smiled gently, and since words seemed to be inadequate to express his feelings, he leant forwards and kissed his brother again.
Loki gave a breathy moan as Thor pushed him backwards onto the bed, cradling his little brother's body against his own. Loki's bare chest was smooth and pale beneath Thor's hands as he ran them over the feint outline of muscle on his abdomen. Loki rolled his head back appreciatively, groaning as Thor stroked the delicate skin at the dip of his hips, brushing the trail of dark hair which disappeared beneath the soft cotton trousers. The young prince laid his hands on his brother's hips and brought them down to rest against his own. It was as though their bodies had been made to fit together in this way, every sharp angle of Loki's thin frame was mirrored by Thor's strong muscular physique.
Loki captured his brother's lips in his own once more, moaning wantonly into his mouth as they rocked together, gasping as he lifted his hips and felt Thor's arousal press against his. "I've loved you for so long, Thor" He managed, tugging at his brother's hair in pleasure, feeling Thor's hands sliding over his body as he had always dreamed they would.
"And I you Loki," His brother replied, nuzzling his neck and moving to suck a mark behind his ear, making Loki shiver with delight. "I'm sorry it has taken me so long to find you, brother." Thor kissed him again, warmth and happiness and unadulterated love radiating from him.
"I'm sorry too," Loki murmured, before Thor's hands travelled lower and he lost all trace of coherent thought.
-x-
Golden sunlight filtered through the bars of Loki's cell, falling on the two brothers who lay naked, curled around each other in the large bed in the centre of the room. A thin bed sheet was drawn up over their waists, partially concealing their dignity. Thor moved his arm which was draped protectively across his little brother's smooth hip, and ran a finger along Loki's spine, gazing at him with adoration as the younger prince wriggled in his grasp and settled against his brother's bare chest with a sigh of contentment. Thor tucked Loki's body closer to him, enveloping the young man in a loving embrace.
Loki awakened to the touch of his brother's hand as gentle fingers combed through his dark hair thoughtfully. He flicked his eyes upwards and met Thor's shy smile as the other man continued his measured caress of Loki's small body. Loki blushed as rough hands stroked his rear appreciatively, dipping between his thighs and making him groan involuntarily. The young prince reached up a pale hand and touched Thor's cheek, placing a tender kiss on his lips and tangling their legs together intimately.
"Loki" Thor rumbled, his thumb tracing patterns on his brother's milk white skin. Loki raised an eyebrow and hummed in response, too sated by the pleasure and perfection of the moment to reply. "Would you do something for me?" Loki smiled and nodded, burrowing into the crook of Thor's neck and inhaling his scent. "Change for me, show me your true form."
His heart stuttered and he pulled away a little in confusion. "It is hideous, the skin of a monster, you would detest it." He replied defensively, suddenly feeling very exposed.
Thor looked away, "Please?" he asked hopefully. The manner in which he pleaded with him was enough for Loki to want to do anything, be anything for him. Thor watched in silent awe as Loki's pale flesh rippled and changed, cracking like ice as the illusion fell away. Thor caressed his brother's blue form, feeling the rougher texture of his skin, the ethereal beauty of the Frost Giant's body. Loki's blood red eyes watched him nervously, revelling in the sensation of Thor's hands touching him in this way, knowing what he saw in place of normality. When Loki shed his artificial skin and saw what he thought was a monster, an outcast, Thor saw a stunning and exotic creature, with skin the pallor of crushed sapphires and bright scarlet eyes which glistened with life and undisclosed passion. Thor laid a hand on Loki's chest, admiring the contrast of their skin, sun-kissed gold against mystical blue.
"You are beautiful, Loki." He said simply, pulling his brother to him and feeling his heartbeat quicken slightly beneath his palm. "I have always thought so."
Loki pressed his cheek against Thor's shoulder, heaving out a sigh of relief and holding onto his brother as though his very existence depended on this embrace. "Thank you," He whispered.
-x-
Loki Laufeyson woke as two guards threw open the door to his cell. The moonlight glanced off their stern expressions and they held weapons threateningly in a manner which suggested they would not be opposed to using them. Loki sat up in the bed, he was alone. As the Asgardian soldiers marched him down the hall with his wrists bound in front of him, the prince fought down the tears which threatened to cripple him, the pain that it had all been a dream was too much to bear. In his heart he had known that it was wrong, it had been too perfect, too wonderful to be allowed to exist in reality. He vaguely registered the direction in which they were headed, and his body stiffened at the thought of facing his brother now, after all that they had apparently not been through. He was brought before Thor in the throne room, presented to his brother like an animal prepared for slaughter. The older prince's expression was vague, almost bored. He dismissed the guards and rose from the throne, standing before Loki with his arms held down smartly at his sides. Loki refused to meet his gaze, it did not matter what was to become of him now. He had found everything he had ever wanted, and it had been a lie.
They did not speak. Thor reached out a hand and took one of Loki's bound wrists, stroking the creamy skin gently. Loki watched as his flesh transformed, taking on an ice blue sheen, reverting back to its original state. He raised his head in astonishment, and Thor smiled knowingly at him. His brother released him and walked away, and Loki turned his arm over, examining the words etched into his skin.
Your dreams are as real as you make them.
He bowed his head, shedding a tear and watching as that single tear erased the words and removed all trace of them ever having been there. But Loki knew better, he knew that everything was real. Every touch, every kiss, every word spoken between them, was not a mere fabrication of his mind but a gift, the most precious gift ever given to him. Thor knew as well as he did that they could never be together, that it was forbidden for them to express their love. But no matter how all consuming this helplessness appeared to be, however dire their situation, they could always escape into dream together and be everything they desired. Laufey had found a way to appease his son, to allow Thor to visit him in dream and give them the chance to find each other at last.
In his overbearing instinct of denial, in all his hatred and his anger, Loki's father found that insubstantial spark of love which changed everything. Laufey had given his son the greatest possible joy. He had given Loki back his dreams, and in dream, as everyone knows, anything is possible.
-x-
In another world, Loki and Thor lay side by side, their happiness untouched by other lives. In the night, they would return to this sanctuary of peace and solitude, to be with one another and to know what it was to be loved.