To Tell a Lie
A sudden, soft breeze disturbs the silence and the stillness. The leaves rustle on the trees, pebbles and dust roll across the ground.
"Hello, Loki."
Thor turns to face his brother. Loki is dressed in full Asgardian battle attire, looking every bit the prince he is.
"Brother," Loki nods sagely in greeting. His eyes flit over Thor's form.
"I see you've taken to Midgardian clothing," he says, voice tinged with distaste.
"I see you haven't."
Loki nods again, glancing down at his gilded armour.
"Why are you here, Loki?" Thor asks.
Thor has been exiled for over a year now and Loki has only visited him once, to inform him of his ascension to the throne while the All-Father was under the Odinsleep. He has no reason to be here. Thor knows his father will not permit his return and Loki is not prone to social visits without reason.
Loki doesn't answer, just looks around, observing the surroundings. The air is completely still now.
They stand in the barren, dusty desert of New Mexico, the heat so thick it feels almost tangible. The Sun sits low in the sky, heavy and glowing, spilling golden sunlight over the flat planes of land. Even Loki could not deny the beauty of the desert sunset.
"I have some news," Loki says, turning back to face Thor.
Thor waits. The seconds pass.
"Father is dead."
The words are clipped and cold, sharp and short. Thor stands, stunned and speechless. He wants to shout, to scream, to shake Loki until he breaks and tells him it's not true.
Instead he grasps for Loki's shoulders, suddenly unsteady on his feet as his knees give way. Loki allows it, to Thor's mild surprise, but doesn't move, remains stock-still with the light wind that has started up, ruffling through his hair.
"Wh-what," Thor swallows as his voice cracks, "What happened?"
He clings to Loki with trembling fingers, feeling hot tears roll down his cheeks. Loki brings a hand up to gingerly pat Thor's shoulder. In other circumstances, Thor might have found it in him to laugh at Loki's aversion to touch, but today it only serves as a reminder of how much he misses his younger brother, his home, his father.
Again, Loki doesn't answer, and Thor waits until he does.
"Frostgiants," Loki whispers. His breath is warm against Thor's ear.
Thor wraps an arm around Loki then, presses his body that much closer to Loki's, feeling and ignoring the way his brother's body tenses imperceptibly.
"I-I wasn't there. I couldn't-".
Loki cuts him off.
"Thor, this is not your doing," and his voice is so soft – uncharacteristically soft – that Thor believes him.
He nods against Loki's shoulder, pushing his face slightly further into the crook of Loki's neck. He inhales the scent of his brother – fresh and intoxicating – and thinks of home. He knows his Mother will be grieving – the whole of Asgard is likely grieving, too. His father was a great man and a good King; his death will be a fair tragedy for everyone.
Thor realises he is still embracing his brother and probably causing him much discomfort and so, reluctantly, he releases his grip and moves back. Loki is looking at him, eyes, trained to show no emotion, blank and unreadable, locked on Thor's.
One hand remains on Loki's shoulder and Thor's gaze flicks between Loki's face and his hand. He moves his hand to cup Loki's jaw, brushing a thumb over defined cheekbones and feels Loki lean into the touch.
For a moment he feels unsure. And then, in a movement so deft and quick it rivals even Loki's agility, he moves forward and presses his lips to his brother's.
There is a second where Thor lips move against Loki's still ones, where Thor feels the first stirrings of doubt, but then Loki is moving against him, tugging him closer with a hand around his neck, fingers curled into his hair. Thor coaxes Loki's mouth open with a swipe of his tongue against Loki's lips and revels in the sensation of his brother's tongue sliding along his own, wet and hot and desperate.
Thor breaks the kiss and gasps for air, panting into Loki's mouth. Loki is still staring at him; penetrating green eyes focused with such intensity Thor feels a little uneasy under the weight of it.
"Loki, if you – if you don't want…" Thor trails off into silence.
Loki rolls his eyes with almost fond amusement and drags Thor back towards him and their mouths lock in another deep kiss.
Suddenly, Thor can no longer restrain himself. They break the kiss and Thor leans down to mouth at Loki's neck, sucking hard on the exposed skin while his fingers grapple with the fastenings on Loki's armour. Loki grabs Thor's hands and pushes them away, smirking a little at Thor's confused frown, and snaps his fingers. Both their clothes fall to the ground next to them. Thor laughs delightedly, then realises that Loki is naked before him, and his laughter dies in his throat.
His brother is a picture of beauty. His pale skin is warmed by the subtle glow of the setting Sun, his raven hair stark against the white of his flesh. His body is all long lines, elegant and regal in a way that summons a trace of jealousy as Thor gazes on at the magnificent creature in front of him. Thor feels inadequate beside this being and is hesitant to touch for fear of shattering whatever fantastical dream he must be having.
But this is no dream and Loki is growing impatient. Thor smiles a small smile, receives one in turn from Loki, just the barest twitching of lips, but enough.
Thor reaches for Loki and their lips meet as their bare skin touches. He moans into Loki's mouth. Loki places a hand on his chest and gently pushes until Thor lies upon the hard floor and Loki sits upon his thighs.
Sharp pebbles dig into his back and legs and the ground is punishingly hard beneath him. He can already feel the drop in temperature as the Sun dips lower and lower.
Loki presses kisses down his chest, tiny, fleeting touches and Thor closes his eyes, losing himself to the sensations and pleasure of Loki's mouth.
After, they lay together, the night sky so black above them, studded with tiny white stars. Loki is draped over Thor's chest with one arm thrown over his stomach. Thor has his arms encircled around his brother's body, hands clasped on his waist.
They lay in silence, allowing their breathing to even out and listening to the low hum of insects. The world is quiet and tranquil and nothing is wrong.
Except, it is.
His father is dead. Odin is gone. And Thor has spent his time of grieving making love to his brother.
He considers this. He feels no remorse of regret, no shame or disgust at his actions. He thinks perhaps he should.
Loki stirs lightly, nuzzles his face into Thor's neck and Thor smiles, free and unbidden. He strokes Loki's hair.
"Are you to return to Asgard now?"
"I must." Loki replies.
Thor sighs softly. "Can I – can I come home with you, brother?" he asks.
Loki levers himself up, leaning on one elbow, to look at Thor.
"I am King now, Thor. My first command cannot be to undo the All-Father's last. You understand, don't you, brother?"
Yes, Thor understands. He'd already known the answer before he'd asked. He was just being wistful.
"Of course. Of course, brother."
Loki smiles and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. He untangles himself from Thor's arms and rises to his feet.
"Must you leave in such haste?" Thor says, feeling needy and pathetic even as the words roll off his tongue.
Loki ignores him, choosing to forego magic and dress himself while Thor watches from the ground. When he is fully dressed, as immaculate as ever, he crouches down and Thor pulls him into one last kiss.
"Goodbye, Loki." He says against Loki's mouth.
Loki stands up. His eyes stay locked on Thor's as he mutters a few words under his breath and disappears.
Thor sighs again and makes to get up.
A sudden, soft breeze blows through the room. The curtains rustle in the windows and a few sheets of stray paper adorned with nearly unintelligible scribbles, roll across the floor.
Loki stands in the silence and smiles.