It is almost winter. The kind of almost winter that is half way between autumn and snow, where the leaves are red and gold and dying and it is cold, but not too cold. The kind of almost winter when frost is crisp over the dead grass in the morning and crunches underfoot, breaking the early silence in the most perfect of ways. The kind of almost winter when your breath puffs out in front of our face like the ghosts of clouds, disappearing seconds later only to reappear. The kind of almost winter when the sky is so blue, clear, and the air is so clean, fresh, that every time you inhale it is like breathing in new life. It is almost winter.
And Loki is happy. He has always enjoyed the colder weather. Cold weather means he can pull out his favorite clothes; his sweaters and scarves and gloves and jackets and boots and long socks and legwarmers, and he loves it. He loves the warmth the clothes bring. Today he is wearing his favorite green and black scarf pulled up to his chin, a tee-shirt so old and worn it is threadbare in many places, a sweater over it that is at least a size and a half too big for him and smells faintly like ground coffee beans and sweat, jeans that really are not good for cold weather, the holes in their knees letting the air chill his skin, and his favorite pair of All-Stars, their canvas so faded it is more grey, now, than black, the white toes scuffed beyond redemption. And he is happy.
But one thing is niggling at his mind. He misses his big brother. They have not seen one another since they found out Loki is adopted. That was two years ago. Loki misses his brother's volume, both in noise and sheer size. He misses the bear hugs Thor used to give him, the hugs that almost always leave him with a popped back and a grin to match Thor's. He misses his brother's hotheadedness and his ego. He misses the way he brother used to stand up for him when they were little and the neighbor kids would pick on him for being weird. He misses his brother's enthusiasm in everything he does. He misses his big brother and it keeps niggling at his mind.
He wants to visit his family back home, but he cannot stand the idea. Loki knows if he does, he will have to face Odin, and he does not think he is ready for that just yet. It has been two years, but he still cannot forgive his father for the lies. He cannot forgive him for favoring Thor over him, for making him live in the shadow of his big brother since he can remember. Loki does not blame Thor anymore; it is not his fault that Odin was fonder of him than he was of Loki. He did blame Thor in the beginning though, for a long time. He resented his brother and his father with equal passion and enthusiasm. But it was never Thor's fault. If Loki goes to visit his family, he will have to face Frigga and he does not think he has it in him to face his mother's disappointment. But if he goes to visit his family, Thor will be there, and is that not worth everything else? Loki is not sure. He wants to visit his family but he does not know if he can stand the idea.
So Loki sighs and keeps walking down the street. It is late and the streetlamps are buzzing quietly in the night, flooding the road and sidewalk in an artificial glow. A cold breeze ruffles Loki's inky hair and he shivers, pulling the too-long sleeves of his sweater over his hands and crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He thinks while he walks, not really paying attention to his destination; he knows where he will end up anyway. Whenever he needs to think, he takes a walk and ends up at the same café. It is not long before he finds himself pulling open its heavy glass doors. The café is not busy, only a few people sitting at the tables, reading books or typing away on laptops or doing schoolwork. It is open late and they serve good coffee, so there are always at least a few college students cluttering the small, mismatched tables. It is nice. Loki stands in line, looking over the menu, not really reading what is there. He always gets the same thing. When it is his turn up, he tells the woman at the register that he wants a hot chocolate and blueberry scone. He loves the scones here, they are always moist and soft, and they taste amazing dipped in the hot chocolate. The woman gives him his change and shuffles around to make his drink and fetch the scone from the glass display case. When she returns, she puts his order on a small tray and hands it to him with a warm smile, telling him to have a good night. Loki smiles back but sighs and takes a seat at his usual table.
His table is in the upper loft. He can see the street from the window and he can smell the ink from the newspapers and magazines littering a shelf nearby. Loki sets the tray on his table and wanders over to the magazine rack. The café always has the best magazines. Sometimes, he will find one he really likes and he will put it in his bag and take it home. The owners do not mind, they are always getting new magazines in and if people did not take the old ones home, the rack would be too crowded and the old ones would get thrown out. With his reading material in hand, Loki sits back down at his table. He flips through the issue, looking for an interesting article, but he cannot concentrate on the words swimming before his eyes; he keeps thinking about his brother and how much he wants to see him. It has been such a long time. They talk on the phone a lot and email back and forth, but really, it is not the same thing. A phone call is not the same as his brother holding him; an email is not the same as his brother lying with him, whispering nonsense in his ear. Sighing, Loki picks up his scone and dips it in his cooling hot chocolate before taking a bite out of it. It is delicious as always. He leans back and gazes out the bay window of the upper loft where his table is.
Before he knows it, he is out on the street again. He swears it is starting to rain and curses under his breath. He hates cold rain. Rain during this time of year is always like liquid ice falling from the sky. Grumbling, Loki bundles himself tighter in his sweater and scarf, hugging himself to keep the warmth in. He wants to go home, but the niggling sensation in the back of his head is getting stronger and all he wants to do now is to see his brother. He knows if he waits until morning, he will lose his nerve and it will be even longer before he brings himself to see Thor again. And now he has his mind made up. He does not have time to run home for clothes—he knows he can just wear some of Thor's things, even though they will be at least two sizes too big for him, probably more—because he knows if he sets foot in his house, his resolve will melt away and he will find himself curled up in his bed. So before he knows it, he is outside the bus station.
Bus tickets are expensive and he can only afford one-way. But Loki knows his brother well enough to know that Thor will willingly drive him home after the visit. He knows that Thor will grab at the opportunity to spend more time with him and the drive from the college town in the mountains to the city is nearly four hours. His brother will see that as four more hours of time spent together. Loki may even be able to convince him to stay the night. The thought is wonderful and he is lost in his own mind when the bus pulls into the station, its air breaks hissing loudly as it comes to a stop. He stands after a moment, shaking his head to clear it, and steps up to the bus, handing his ticket to the driver. The bus is nearly empty, only a few people dozing in their seats, heads lolling against the window or back against their headrests. It is the middle of the week, so Loki is not very surprised at the lack of crowd. He knows he is going to miss the classes he has tomorrow, and probably for the rest of the week, but it is worth it, and he is sure he can come up with some lie that his professors will buy. That is the nice thing about going to a small college, as long as you have your assignments in when they are due, the professors could not care less if you show up to class, and Loki does not have any assignments due in the next few days. But even if he did, he would just email them to the TAs. He would not miss this visit for the world. Bus tickets are expensive and he can only afford a one-way.
So Loki settles in for the four hour ride. He checks his phone; it is nearly midnight now, so he will arrive at around four. He thinks he should probably call Thor and let him know he is coming, but decides not to. He wants it to be a surprise. The town is small enough that he does not have to depend on someone picking him up and taking him to his brother's house; everything is within walking distance of everything else. That is the one thing Loki misses about living in that small college town in the mountains. Well, not the one thing. He misses Thor more than he misses the convenience of being able to walk everywhere. But he can never tell his brother that, not without having to deal with his insufferable smugness. He loves his brother dearly, but there are some qualities about him that Loki simply cannot stand; he would not change them for the world. And now everything about his brother is only three hours and forty-nine minutes away. Loki plugs himself in to his music, turning up the volume to drown out the sounds of the bus going down the highway and the sounds of the rattling luggage baskets above each seat and the sounds of the other passengers snoring quietly. He settles in for the three hour and forty-nine minute ride.
He must have dozed off. The bus stops with a lurch and he starts, his head snapping up. He can hear the foggy sound of the bus driver announcing the name of the small college town in the mountains and the bus stop they are currently parked in and stands. He and two other people, an older woman with short, curly graying hair, and a balding, middle-aged business man, step off in the frigid mountain air. Loki always forgets that the mountains are always a bazillion degrees colder than the city, but is reminded when a blast of freezing wind sweeps through his woolen sweater like it is the thinnest of cottons. Before long, he is shivering, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He decides that he had better not dilly-dally around the streets. At a brisk pace, he strides down the icy sidewalk. From the bus station to Thor's house it is about a five minute walk. It is the longest five minutes of Loki's life and as he finally arrives on his brother's doorstep, snow begins to drift down from the still-black sky. He has to ring the doorbell several times before he hears the footsteps of his bear-of-a-brother echo from inside the silent house and the door is flung open. Before him towers a less-than-pleased Thor. His blonde hair is a mess, sticking out at odd angels, and his eyes are tired with dark bags beneath them. He must have been sleeping.
"Hello, brother," Loki says quietly, his voice shaking as a shiver wracks his body.
His brother stars at him for a moment. It is as if he cannot even believe his own tired eyes. Like he thinks he is still dreaming and thinks that if he reaches out to touch the Loki before him, he will evaporate into smoke and cease to have existed. But finally, Loki smiles and Thor seems to realize it is safe to touch the man before him, and Loki is pulled into one of the bear hugs he loves so much, and as his brother squeezes he can feel his vertebra popping. He laughs and hugs his brother back. Suddenly, Thor pulls away and holds him at arm's-length. He stares at him for a moment.
"It's been a long time, Loki," Thor murmurs after a moment, and Loki feels his heart beating in his throat. He knows what is coming and he is waiting for it with baited breath. It has been a long time.
And it happens. Thor leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. It is something he has not felt in two years and it sends his heart racing and his skin flushing with heat. It had been a relief to the both of them when it was found out he was adopted. There had always been a sort of tension between the two of them, and it was not until then that they had realized what kind it was. Loki had shut himself in his room in anger and his brother had jimmied the lock. He had never known Thor could do that and he had been surprised and lashed out at him. He screamed at him to get out, throwing anything that was near. Of course, Thor and his stubbornness had not listened, simply gathering Loki up in his strong arms, ignoring his thin brother's hissing, spitting struggle. And then it happened.
Thor had tossed Loki on the bed. He had to pin him down. Loki glared up at him, eyes bloodshot and swollen with unshed tears. He wanted to be alone, not pinned beneath his brother's bulk. He opened his mouth to spit out another hurtful insult, but had not been able say a word. He suddenly found his brother's mouth pressed to his in a rough kiss. Loki had been shocked at first; the man he had called brother since his first memory was kissing him in a very un-brotherly fashion. It was not until a pair of teeth was nipping at his bottom lip that he had snapped out of his shock, realizing that this felt right in every way. He had pressed back, letting his blue eyes slip closed. He struggled against the hold his brother had on his wrists, but Thor did not relent, keeping them pinned. Loki had whined in protest, balling and unballing his fists. Finally he broke free from the grip and pushed his brother off of him and sat up. He ignored the look on Thor's face as he stood and walked to the still-open door and kicked it shut, locking it. When he made it back, Thor had grabbed Loki by the hips and tossed him on the bed.
The night had been new and strange and wonderful. Loki fell asleep pressed flush to his brother, one arm draped over Thor's defined stomach. When he woke in the morning, he found that they must have moved around in their sleep, for he was on his other side, Thor wrapped around his back. It had felt amazing to be held that way. It was new and strange and wonderful.
Loki smiles. He smiles at the memory that seems so long ago, yet so close. He smiles at Thor's lips that now whisper along his jaw, mouthing at the sensitive skin near his ear. He smiles at the heat his brother's body is sending off in waves. He smiles at the heavy hands resting on his hips. He smiles as those hands slide under his sweater and tee-shirt. He smiles when his brother pulls him roughly into the house, pressing him against the door, pulling off his scarf and tossing it on the floor. And when Loki looks up, Thor smiles.
He groans when Thor's knee presses between his legs. Thor has always been impatient when it comes to Loki, whether it is Loki's sarcastic nature or his body. But Loki loves it. He has always loved the way he brother crowds his personal space, his hands moving hurriedly against his skin. He thinks to himself that they do not do this enough. They do not see each other enough, they do not touch enough. Loki is glad that he decided to visit, even if he thinks he will not be able to stand seeing his parents. He is brought from his thoughts when Thor presses harder against him, teeth worrying the flesh at his neck. Loki groans when his brother shifts the knee between his legs.
Thor pulls away, looking Loki in the eye. Loki gives him a small smile and reaches up the tiny difference between their heights, pressing a kiss to his mouth. That is all it takes, and he finds himself pulled tight against his brother's chest, his feet lifting off the floor. He takes Thor's cue and wraps his legs around the man's waist, his mouth pressed tightly against his brother's. Before he realizes, they are on Thor's bed. Everything smells like him, and Loki takes a deep breath; he had almost forgotten what his brother smells like. It reminds him of sleeping in on weekends and watching the sun go down in the evening. He has missed it almost as much as he missed Thor himself. Loki remembers that his brother has always smelled the same. He remembers, before they knew he was adopted, cuddling with him on the couch after he had finished mowing the lawn, engulfed in the sent of freshly cut grass, sweat, and sun. It was intoxicating and Loki is in that same state now with Thor crowding him against the mattress, his breath washing over his neck. He feels his brother's lips against his throat and hums, bringing his hands up to pull through his tangled hair. Thor pulls away, looking Loki in the eye.
"I've missed you, Thor," Loki breathes, his eyes half-lidded. And it is true; he has missed Thor.
And Thor does not answer; he just rests his weight against Loki, nudging his legs apart, nesting comfortably between them. Loki's breath hitches when Thor just lays his forehead against his chest, and for some strange reason, tears prickle at his eyes. He stares at the ceiling, blinking, trying to banish the wetness away. He does not want to cry in front of his brother. He is tired of crying in front of him. He does not even know why he wants to cry right now. Maybe the mood is just right, or maybe he has been missing Thor more than he even realized and being with him is just overwhelming. Whatever the reason, Loki does not want those tears there, he wants them gone. He lets out the breath he has been holding and gasps for another. He has missed Thor more than anything. It is okay that he does not answer.
The tears spill over without his permission and now they will not stop. They just slip silently from the corners of his eyes and into his hair and he shakes, staring at the ceiling. He feels Thor's weight shift and suddenly he is not staring at the ceiling, he is staring at his brothers blue eyes. Eyes that are bluer than anything Loki has ever seen. And he cannot look away. He just stares at Thor, tears escaping down the sides of his face, sliding over his temples. He remembers that this is how it was the night he found out he is adopted. Thor gazing down at him with his eyes that are like oceans; Loki laying there gazing back, tears spilling over without his permission, tears that would not stop.
He does not like thinking about that night. It is full of pain and Loki does not like pain. He does not like to remember the look in his father's eyes when he announced that Loki is adopted. It is a look that Loki will never forget because it held in it all of the contempt and disappointment he knows Odin must have been feeling for him for all of those years. He knows that Odin will never love him like he loves Thor, but Loki decides that that is okay. It is okay because Thor will never love Odin like he love Loki and that fact alone seems to make everything better than it actually is. He knows that Thor will never hurt him like Odin did and he knows that he will always have Thor to hold on to when it feel like he is going to fall off the face of the planet. Loki does not want to be back in that night because it is that past, and the past belongs behind him. That is why he does not like thinking about that night.
But sometimes Thor will bring it up when they talk. And it is like picking the scab off of a scrape that is almost healed and watching it bleed again. He does not tell Thor though, because he knows that it helps him heal, and Loki wants Thor to be whole. He knows that if his brother is whole, he will be, too, and that is good. So he talks about it with his brother, and it makes his eyes sting and his throat hurt, but he talks about it anyway. But only when Thor brings it up.
It is different now, though. Loki thinks that maybe Thor is done wanting to talk about that night, that maybe, finally, Thor is whole again. He can see it in his eyes, the way he looks at him without any cloud of the past, only the future and what is going to be. Loki cannot see the fractures that used to be there and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can be whole again, too, that Thor can make him whole. It is a wonderful, terrifying thought, because Loki cannot remember the last time he was whole, the last time he was not broken into pieces that refuse to heal by themselves. He is scared of what he might look like whole, because he has been looking in the mirror and seeing himself broken for so long, he does not remember what he looked like before. He wonders if he will still look like a child, he wonders if he will look the way he did before the first time any crack began to appear. But he also wonders if he will have scars. He thinks he probably will. You cannot be broken the way he is and walk away without scars. But Loki thinks that that is okay, because everything is different now.
Thor's thumb brushes the corner of his eye, wiping the tears away. Loki lets out a shaky sigh, his body going limp. He is finally happy, actually happy, and he does not ever want to let it go. He never wants to be away from Thor again, but he knows that he has to go home by Sunday, he knows that he has classes and work and a life back home, that he cannot just drop everything to be with his brother. He wishes he could though, he wishes it was that easy. And he knows that it would be unfair to ask Thor to do the same, even though he knows his brother would do it in a heartbeat. So Loki is happy, but at the same time he is conflicted. And the tears that he thought were done are back, sliding back down into his hair, his body shaking lightly. And Thor's thumb brushes them away again.
Loki can feel his brother's breath against his ear. He is whispering nonsense, trying to comfort Loki, but Loki knows Thor well enough to know that he is trying to comfort himself, too. Because Thor knows that he will be gone again by Sunday, and he knows it is killing his brother inside, just like it is killing him. And he thinks about how unfair he is being, and he thinks, only for a second, that he should not have come at all. But then Thor kisses him on the mouth and everything is right again, back where they are supposed to be. The kiss is soft, just Thor's lips brushing against Loki's. But it begins to roughen around the edges as the brushes become presses and lips give way to teeth and tongue. And Loki feels like he is going to pass out, he feels like his lungs might burst or his head might explode. He chokes when the kisses move from mouth to neck and slowly turn into bites. And Loki can feel his brother's breath against his ear, whispering nonsense.
He cannot think straight anymore. Not with Thor's mouth biting at all the right places on his neck, sucking marks into his skin. He knows he is going to have some explaining to do when he gets back to school. Those kinds of marks do not just appear on their own, after all. But he does not think about that right now because Thor is pulling off his sweater, leaving his tee-shirt rucked up around his ribs. He cannot breathe now, his eyes blown wide, his lips parted to draw in shallow gasps of air. Everything is fuzzy around the edges and he has to blink to clear his vision as Thor kisses his stomach, his mouth gentle again. It is almost too much for Loki to stand and he squirms under him, whining high, worrying his lip with his teeth. Everything is too much for him. It feels like his brain has turned to mush and every reasonable thought in his head has burst into flame and everything inside him is chaos. He does not know how people do this. He does not know why they put themselves through it for another person on a regular basis. But then he hears Thor purr the answer in his ear. And he cannot think straight anymore.
"I love you."
And Loki cannot help it. He sobs, all of the emotion he has been trying to hold back bursting forward at the three simple words, and he buries his face in Thor's neck, clinging to him desperately. He feels like if he does not anchor himself to Thor he might fall away and cease to exist. But he knows that that is not true, because as long as Thor exists, so does Loki; there is not one without the other. And he knows why people do this on a regular basis, even though it is hard to handle even at the best of times. And he knows why they do it for their one. And he cries for it, weeping without shame against Thor's neck, while his brother just holds him, whispering nonsense in his ear. And Loki cannot help it.
"I love you, too," he finally chokes out, kissing the side of Thor's neck, tasting his tears there, salty against Thor's skin. "I love you so much."
Thor lets out a sigh, like a breath he has been holding, and he kisses Loki. And there is so much emotion in that one kiss that Loki feels like he might drown in it, and he is scared, but only for a moment. He knows that Thor will never let him drown, that Thor will pull him back to the safety of his arms. And that is what he does, with the kiss that feels like it will drown him, with the hands biting protectively at his hips. And Loki knows that they will be okay. He knows that things will work out, because it is not an option for them not to work. He takes the emotion that is almost drowning him and pours it back into the kiss and he feels Thor choke and he pulls his brother to safety, humming low reassurances. And Thor sighs, letting out the breath he has been holding, kissing Loki raw.
Everything is the way it is supposed to be. Everything feels perfect. And Loki could just start crying again from the sensation of being wanted by Thor. Nothing else in the world matters, not his father's neglect, not his mother's disappointment, not anything but being wrapped up in his brother. And everything is the way it is supposed to be.
Loki is drawn from his mind when Thor begins pulling his threadbare shirt off, hands trailing over his chest as he does. He shivers, sitting up so his brother can more easily remove the clothing. It joins his sweater on the floor before he is pushed back against the mattress, and he gasps, his arms moving around Thor's shoulders, his nails scratching red lines against his skin. Even in the winter, Thor never sleeps with a shirt on. But again, Loki is drawn from his mind when his jeans begin to slide down his hips.
Thor has never been patient, and it dives him crazy that Loki likes to tease him. That is what Loki loves about him in bed, though. He loves that Thor gets frustrated with him and after a while he takes total control. He did not think he would like being dominated, but with Thor it is okay, it is safe. But now all thoughts of teasing have been pushed from Loki's mind as Thor pulls his jeans further down his hips, ignoring the button and zipper completely. When they refuse to move any further, his brother growls in his ear and Loki swallows, pressing the side of his face against Thor's, feeling his beard against his cheek. It is scratchy and comforting and it makes his breath come hard and shallow. He lets out a low moan when Thor works a hand between the two of them, working on unbuttoning the jeans. It has been too long since he has felt Thor there and it makes him hot and it makes his head swim. And once he has the button undone, Thor has his hand down Loki's pants, palming him through his underwear. Thor has never been patient, and it drives Loki crazy.
He lets out a sharp gasp, his head lolling back against the pillow, as Thor begins jerking him off, slower than Loki thought possible for him. He is already writhing, desperate for more friction, his breath so shallow he is afraid he might pass out for lack of oxygen. He moans under his breath, arching his hips up into Thor's hand, teeth biting into his bottom lip. Thor is being purposely teasing, and Loki knows it is killing Thor as much as it is killing him, and he groans. He feels like his skin is on fire and he knows he is losing control. When Thor moves, his hand slipping under the thin cotton of his boxers, Loki lets out a keening whine, squeezing his eyes closed. It has been far too long since Thor has touched him and he can tell he is already close, and they have barely started. His body begins to shake and he knows Thor can feel it because he stops, just laying there as Loki breathes harshly, whispering endearments in his ear as he waits for him to come back down. When his breath is back, Thor begins again, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head of Loki's cock, making him gasp and squirm beneath him again. It is not long before his body is trembling and Thor stops again, waits. And Loki sees what he is doing and lets out a small moan despite himself. It is something he has done to Thor before and it makes him so hot he can barely stand it. The moment he begins again, Loki arches his hips up, grinding himself into Thor's hand, and it is almost too much and his vision goes all fuzzy and he has to close his eyes. Now there is only sensation and it drives Loki over the edge. He lets out a sharp gasp, moaning loudly into the pillow.
Loki does not move for a moment, just pants against the pillowcase, his body still trembling lightly. When he feels a soft kiss against his neck, he opens his eyes and Thor is showering him with affection. Loki laughs softly and his smile turns devious before Thor even has time to react. He reaches up and pulls him down by the hair, kissing his brother with so much heat it feels like they might spontaneously combust. But that is okay. That is how it is supposed to be. He tastes Thor against his tongue and sighs, pulling away to suck marks into this brother's neck. He hears Thor moan quietly and feels his thumbs rub slow circles against his hipbones. But without a moment's warning, Loki shoves his free hand down Thor's sweats. He finds that he is not wearing any underwear and grins when Thor groans breathily, dropping his head against Loki's shoulder, worrying the sensitive skin there. He slowly rolls his hips against Loki's hand, matching the pace that Loki has set. He can hear his brother's breath begin to speed up and knows his heart rate is not far behind. He does not tease the way Thor teased, he makes everything painfully slow, and he knows that Thor is so close, but he cannot, will not, until Loki lets him. And now Loki is whispering nonsense into Thor's ear, brushing his lips against the shell. His brother is gasping and moaning against his shoulder, his muscles so tense it seems like he might snap and Loki thinks he has had enough and lets him. And Thor comes hard, his body shaking and his back arching and Loki feels teeth tear into his shoulder and gasps, his head tilting to the side, the hand in Thor's hair tightening. His brother collapses on him. He does not move for a moment, just pants against Loki's neck, his body still trembling.
They stay there like that, pressed against one another, for a long time. Loki does not realize he falls asleep until the phone rings and he starts, eyes flying open. Thor is wrapped around his back, a knee wedged between his legs, arms looping around his waist, and it feels safe. But the phone keeps ringing and it takes him a minute to realize that it is his. His phone in his back pocket. It takes some maneuvering to slip it out without waking his brother, who can sleep through almost anything. Loki looks at the caller ID and groans. It is one of his classmates, probably demanding to know where he is. He hits 'ignore' and shove the phone under his pillow, yawning. He does not know what time it is and he forgot to check before his put his phone away, but it does not matter because Thor is breathing into his hair and Thor's arms are safe and everything is okay. And they just stay there, pressed against one another, for a long time.
But then Thor shifts. And Loki loses the contact he had before and shivers when the air hits his now-bare back. He reaches down and pulls the covers over himself, rolling onto his other side, pressing his face against Thor's throat. He hears him hum and then there is a large pair of hands fanning flat against his back under the blankets, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into his skin. And Loki looks up and Thor is watching him with sleepy eyes that are bluer than any sky or ocean he has ever seen, and it feels like the breath has been sucked from his lungs. He does not know what to do, so he settles for burying his head against Thor's throat again, nipping lightly at his collarbone. And then Thor shifts.
Loki is gazing up at him now. He loves the way Thor smiles in a sleepy sort of way when he just wakes up. He has always had that smile, for as long as Loki can remember. So Thor smiles and leans down, kissing Loki tenderly on the lips. There is no lust behind the kiss, only love, only caring, only Thor. And it makes Loki want to cry, but he does not. Through this kiss, Thor is speaking to him without words and he is speaking so much that Loki is having a hard time concentrating. This sort of thing always seems to happen to Loki when Thor kisses him like this. All of the words that pour soundlessly from one to the other always make Loki's head spin and his eyes blur and he does not know what to do. And then Thor pulls away and is gazing at him.
He has to look away. Sometimes his brother's gaze is so intense it makes him uncomfortable. But not in a bad way. In a way that has his skin crawling like he is being inspected under a microscope. That sounds bad, it does, and Loki knows it, but he cannot even begin to describe how it is good. Because it is. It is very good. Thor has always been able to look at him like that, been able to pull him apart and put him back together without leaving any pieces behind. Even though the microscope always comes with that look, it makes Loki feel like he is being examined for the cure for something, like he could do good if he is looked at closely enough. But even though everything is good and nothing is wrong, he has to look away.
And then Thor's hand is grasping at his jaw and he has to meet his blue eyes. Eyes that are like stars, burning hot and fast and so intensely that they cannot be real. But they are, because Loki is gazing right at them and they are gazing back, looking into his depths. Loki lets out a breath and bites his lip. He can see everything in Thor's eyes and nothing at all. He can see every emotion that has a name and some that do not flashing back and forth and back again in his eyes; he can see his own reflection; he can see the past, but it is not broken, it is not scary, it is just there. Loki feels like he is going to be sucked into those eyes, and for a moment, just a moment, he panics. He tries to pull away, but Thor's hand is gripping at his jaw.
And everything is alright again. Because Thor is holding him close, telling him that everything is going to be okay and that nothing matters. And he believes him, because Thor would never lie to Loki about that. And they just lay in bed for what seems like hours, talking about everything and nothing. They talk about Thor's school and Loki's school. They talk about the weather and how cold it has been and how it is still almost-winter in the city even though it seems to be winter-winter in the mountains. They talk about friends and drama, even though Loki tries to stay out of that sort of thing; he does not know about his friends' drama most of the time, unless it directly involves him. They talk about work and money and somehow that brings them to the topic of bus tickets and how Loki cannot afford the trip back because, really, he is a poor college student trying to make it on his own. He should be using his money for important things like paying the rent and bills, and buying food. But then he corrects himself, because Thor is important. And even though Loki will not have a lot of money for food or bills this month, it is worth it and everything is alright.
But then they start to talk about the serious stuff. They talk about going to see their parents and it makes Loki anxious because he does not think he is ready for it yet. They talk about how Odin treated him throughout their childhood and Thor apologizes for not realizing what was happening sooner. And it makes Loki feel horrible, because it is not Thor's fault that Odin loves his own flesh and blood more than he loves Loki, who is someone else's child. But when Loki asks about Frigga and her disappointment, his brother looks at him with an expression so deadpan it makes him backtrack and rethink everything he has just said. And when Thor tells him that Frigga is not disappointed in him at all, that she loves him the same way she did before everything fell apart and that nothing has changed that, Loki does not believe him because he cannot wrap his mind around his mother not being disappointed in him. But Thor cups Loki's face in his hands and looks him so seriously in the eye, repeats himself, that Loki can see the truth in his eyes and before he has time to steel himself, the tears are flowing freely and he is crying silently, staring at his brother. And then they stop talking about everything.
They stay there in the warmth of the bed for a long time. But finally Thor stands and pulls them to the shower. He turns on the water and turns back to Loki, undresses him the rest of the way, pulling off his jeans and underwear, discarding them on the bathroom floor. Loki stands there, shivering as the cool air is pushed down and the hot air rises, shivering at the change of temperature as the water heats up. He watches as Thor tugs off his sweats and tosses them to the side, watches as Thor checks so see if the water is warm enough. And then he is being pulled by the hand and it feels like liquid flames are licking down his back, over his shoulders, dripping down his legs, and he hisses under his breath at the heat before his body acclimates and he welcomes liquid fire against his skin. But then there is ice at his nerve-endings as Thor pushes him against the shower wall and he gasps, his back arching in the instinct to get away from the cold. He finds himself chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach with his brother and his breath hitches in this throat and he is looking into those blue-dwarf eyes. They stand there in the warmth of the shower for what feels like forever.
But then Thor moves. He leans forward and kisses Loki so softly it hurts. And Loki seems to lose himself in it, taking in all the unsaid words, letting his brain go blank and his eyes go fuzzy, giving him an excuse to close them. He lets himself take in all of the sensations presenting themselves to him. He takes in the feeling of the cold shower tiles against his back and the way they slowly warm up with his body. He takes in the way Thor is pressed against him, his knee slowly nudging its way between Loki's legs. But then it feels like his brain is going to short out when Thor changes the kiss, bringing his teeth and tongue into the equation. And Loki has to take the time to recalibrate his system, get his brain on the same frequency as Thor's, and that is just the amount of time Thor needs to sneak a hand down between the two of them. And Loki's brain is short-circuiting again when his brother begins to palm his half-hard cock. He thinks he would have fallen if Thor was not pressing him against the wall and he did not have a knee wedged between his legs. He feels like his limbs have turned to wet noodles and are completely useless to him. All he can do is writhe and gasp as Thor touches him in all the right ways, ways that he knows drive Loki crazy. Loki feels his head thump back against the wall and groans, drawing in a sharp breath at the touches that make every nerve in his body hypersensitive. But then Thor moves.
And suddenly Loki finds himself with his stomach pressed against the tiled wall and his body goes momentarily ridged from the shock of cold. It melts away, though, when he feels his brother's mouth on his neck and his fingers pressing, just barely, into him. He groans, pushing his hips back, bracing himself against the wall. Thor takes his cue and suddenly everything is white and hot, and the only thing Loki can do is moan and gasp and arch his back, desperate for more. He feels a strong arm wrap around his stomach, holding him in place as Thor begins to pick up the pace. Loki groans, his head lolling forward until his brow is resting against the cool tile. He is panting and his legs are shaking and he is sure that if Thor was not holding him up, he would be sliding down the wall to the shower floor right now. But suddenly he finds himself with his cheek pressed against the tiled wall, Thor's hand in his hair, and he feels his knees begin to give.
But his brother is still holding him up, pressing against him. Loki pants into the tile, moaning louder than he will ever admit to when Thor makes him see stars and his body trembles from the feeling. And he feels gravity begin to beckon him to the ground, but his brother is still holding him up, pressing against him.
"Guh—" Loki half-chokes, his breath coming out in hard, desperate gasps. "Just fuck me already," he finally manages to growl.
Loki hears Thor chuckle against his ear and shivers. He moans, letting his teeth sink into his bottom lip, when his brother adds a third finger. Gasping, he squeezes his eyes closed, rocking his hips back against Thor's fingers. He hears the man chuckle against his ear again and shivers.
"Be patient, Loki," Thor says, moving his free hand down to grasp Loki's cock. Loki lets out a keen and growls. He does not want to be patient.
Whining high in his throat, Loki presses his forehead against the cool shower wall. He reaches down and grasps Thor's wrist as his brother works his cock slowly, his fingers digging into his brother's skin, sure that he will leave red marks when everything is said and done. Loki practically wails when Thor's fingers press against his prostate again and he throws his head back against the other man's shoulder, dark hair plastering to sun-kissed skin. He balls his right hand into a fist against the shower wall, his other gripping his brother's wrist desperately, fingernails biting into his skin. After what fells like an eternity to Loki, Thor finally withdraws his fingers from inside of him and he hisses at the loss. But a moment later, he feels the head of his brother's cock against his entrance and melts against the solid warmth behind him, the hiss shifting into a wanton moan. It has been so long, too long, since he has felt his brother there and it makes his heart race madly, and his lungs feel like they are on fire when he drags in a rough, desperate gasp of air. When Thor pushes into him, it is the most perfect thing Loki has ever felt in his life and he dissolves into a loud moan, his back arching and his hips canting in an attempt to get his brother deeper. As his brother begins to thrust shallowly, Loki forgets how to breathe and his chest feels tight and his bones feels like they have turned to jelly. Whining high in his throat when he finally gathers his wits about him, Loki presses his forehead against the cool shower wall.
He had almost forgotten what it feels like to have his brother inside of him. It has Loki moaning wantonly, his head falling back against Thor's shoulder again. He can feel Thor's muscles rippling against his back as he moves and it does nothing to quiet the noises that are coming from his mouth. It makes Loki's lungs feel like they might burst and his brain feel like mush and Loki cannot focus on anything but the thrusts of his brother's hips and the pleasure that is beginning to well up in the pit of his stomach. Thor's hand tightens around Loki's cock and he cannot help the keening moan that rips its way through his chest and the way his fingers slip and his nails cut into Thor's wrist. When his brother hisses and teeth sink into the flesh of his shoulder, Loki knows that he has broken the skin, but his brother's reaction is so sinfully good that Loki cannot bring himself to be sorry just then. And now Thor is fucking him harder, his free hand braced against the slick shower wall. It is almost too much for Loki to handle and he can feel his climax creeping up on him all too soon. The sound of Thor grunting against his wet hair brings him that much closer and he can feel a scream boiling up in his throat and he cannot believe that he had nearly forgotten what it feels like to have his brother inside of him.
And it is over. Thor is thrusting into him brutally now and every sound that comes from Loki is a soft cry, the scream still trying to pull itself from his chest. But then Thor changes his angle and Loki shrieks, his fingernails tearing unforgivingly into his brother's skin and into his own palm, and everything is suddenly white as the heat in the pit of his stomach uncoils all at once and he comes hard, a shudder wracking his body, his eyes squeezed shut. As his muscles clench and he is still riding his high, Thor's pace stutters and his brother is suddenly coming inside of him while he is still too-sensitive and he raises a bit on his tiptoes, and then the energy is draining out of him before he can think about what to do next. And suddenly he finds himself on his knees with Thor folded around him and the hot water is beginning to cool as it showers down around them, dripping from Loki's hair and dripping from Thor's hair. Taking in a shuddery breath, Loki feels his brother slowly pull out from inside of him and he whines at the loss and the sensation, always his least favorite part. They stay like that for a while longer, Thor resting his forehead against the back of Loki's neck, hands settled on the pale of his thighs, Loki supporting most of his weight on his heels, hands atop Thor's. But then the moment is over.
And Loki is on his feet again. Thor pulls him tight against his chest and kisses his forehead, whispering things that Loki cannot hear as the cooling water collides with the shower floor. After a few minutes, he reaches around his brother to grab the shampoo, the same kind that Thor has used since high school. It smells like mint and Loki sighs, happy that it is Thor's, happy that it is something that smells like Thor. But before he can snap the top open, his brother grabs it gently from his hand and Loki sees that Thor is bleeding where Loki's fingernails dug into his wrist. Guilt washes over him as he gently runs the pads of his fingers over the scratches, watching as the blood is washed away by the water. He looks up and opens his mouth to apologize but stops when he sees Thor shake his head with a soft smile. His brother knows what he is going to say, he always knows what he is going to say. And Loki smiles, too. Then Thor is washing his hair, fingers gentle but insistent, rinsing away all that bads and leaving all the goods and Loki sighs. They wash one another in silence, Thor leaning in to steal a chaste kiss every few minutes. When they are finished, Loki finds himself wrapped in a large, warm towel, seated on the toilet as he watches his brother. Thor has his towel wrapped firmly around his waist and Loki thinks it is funny that his brother is covering himself when they have seen each other naked time and time again since they were children. But he thinks it must be a force of habit; after all, he is sitting with his towel wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His skin is almost completely dry when he is pulled to his feet again.
"Do you have any clothes with you?" his brother asks as they walk back to the bedroom and Loki shivers as the cool air kisses the exposed skin of his legs, goosebumps breaking out over his body. He shakes his head in response to the question.
Thor nods. Somehow, Loki is sure that Thor knows he had not gone home last night. That if he had, he would not be here right now. Thor has always known Loki almost as well as Loki knows Loki, even when Loki was angry with him for all of those years when they were teenagers. Even then, Thor had know why he was angry, had know that it was because their father loved him more than Loki, that Loki was jealous, though he hates to use that word. He thinks about when he had fallen so low as to consider self-harm and Thor had somehow known, had told Loki that he was better than that. And Loki had shouted at him, shouted at him to mind his own business, shouted at him so many horrible things that Loki shudders now remembering it. He wishes he could take those years back, do them over again because he can see now that Thor had only ever wanted to be a good brother, had just wanted to protect him, and he wants to cry for it, but does not. Loki knows Thor has forgiven him for all of the hurts and sometimes Loki is struck at how much his brother is like an abused puppy or child; no matter how horrible Loki was to him when they were younger, he always forgave him, always came back to tell him that he loved him, and Loki would apologize, would tell him it would never happen again when they both knew it was a lie. Loki pulls the towel tighter around himself and his shoulders hunch slightly with the memories. He does not realize Thor is behind him until there is a hand on the small of his back and his brother is handing him a clean change of clothes. He is gazing at him knowing, like he can see the memories playing behind Loki's eyes like a motion picture. Loki has to look away, down at the clothes his is now clutching to his chest with one arm. Finally, he looks back up. Thor nods.
Loki lets out the breath he had not realized he had been holding. Slowly he walks to the bed, stepping over his sweater and threadbare tee-shirt, and sets the clean set of clothing on the tangled covers. As he lets gravity pull the towel slowly from his shoulders to the floor, Loki can feel his brother's eyes on his back, can feel the way he is taking in his pale skin as hit is slowly exposed, taking in the curve of his back and the way his damp hair is brushing his shoulders, and it makes a shiver run up his spine and back down again. He takes his time dressing, knowing that Thor likes to watch him because he says Loki has a grace that he has never seen in anyone else. Somehow the jeans fit him perfectly when he finally pulls them over his hips and when he realizes that it is a pair of jeans he thought he had forgotten when he moved, he glances at Thor over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. His brother just shrugs with a sheepish sort of grin and Loki decides he would rather not know. Turning back to the clothing on the bed, Loki picks up the tee-shirt waiting for him. It is one of his favorites of Thor's, one that he used to wear when he slept because it smelled like him and sleeping with something that smelled like his brother always helped Loki to have better dreams than when he did not, it is the one that he had been sorely tempted to take with him when he left, but had not. He tugs it on and pulls the collar over his nose to take a deep breath; it still smells the way he remembers. There is one more item on the bed for him and Loki smiles. Thor knows that Loki likes to layer in the winter, because while he enjoys the cold, he does not enjoy being cold, so he left him a large sweater that Mother must have given him because it is knitted in the most hideously gorgeous pattern he has ever seen, and he laughs because he know that Thor loves it and can tell that he wears it even though it is quite ugly. Loki pulls it over his head and is lost for a moment in the expanse of wool before he manages to find the escape route. The sweater is too big for him, but he is expecting that, its sleeves go nearly to his fingertips and it is a bit baggy, but what is he supposed to do when he is so much thinner than his brother? Loki turns back to Thor and grins, letting out the breath he had not realized he had been holding.
Thor is smiling at him. That goofy smile that he gets when he is happy and it must be contagious, because soon Loki is smiling a similar smile. He loves that his brother, and only his brother, can make him smile like this, can make him actually, genuinely happy. Thor is still smiling at him.
"We need to talk to mother and father," Thor finally says and Loki swallows.
