"Dentro de todo secreto acecha el miedo a descubrirlo."
(Within every secret lurks the fear of discovering.)- Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell.
Fandom- Thor (HIPSTER/MIDGARDIAN AU)
Ship- Thor/Loki
Rating: NC-17 (not necessarily in this chapter)
Warnings- pretty much the same a Saudade; sex, drugs, alcohol, foul language etc etc. Oh, and Tony Stark somewhere along the line…
Summary; sequel to Saudade. On an impromptu trip to New York, Thor and Loki realise you can't fix the past as easily as you can hide it.
A/n: Genuinely, I have no idea how long you're meant to leave it before posting a sequel but I've started it so you know why not?
Prelude
Three months ago.
"How did you get that bruise?"
Loki tugged down his t-shirt so it met the waistband of his jeans, turning with a frown on his face.
"What bruise?"
His voice was too high.
"The one on your hips," Thor said. Loki dropped his innocent expression and shrugged.
"Probably in a club," he said shortly. "I can't remember."
Thor watched him turn back to Cloud Atlas and decided it was too early to grab him and tug up his shirt. The foundations of their relationship had been shattered and Thor still didn't know for sure if they could start again. He could only hope.
Nine weeks ago.
Thor thinks maybe they're going to work. Maybe this time things won't get fucked up again. Loki smiles more, talks a bit more, holds Thor's hand. When they fuck it's like everything is how it was, but like everything is different. They kiss and claw and pull and bite like the world is ending, desperate and not quite how it should be, but exactly how they have always been.
Loki still doesn't tell him everything like he used to. Or maybe he never really did tell him everything. Maybe he used his silver tongue to weave lies about how he was fine, how they were fine when really nothing was fine, it never was and it might never be.
Thor clutched at his hair in the darkness and wished that he could return to a time when these thoughts never entered his mind.
Two months ago.
Thor watched Loki's chest go up and down and clasped his hand, hot tears falling. Loki was still, eyes closed, face white against the black hair spread like a halo on the hospital pillow. The gown settled into the curves of his sleeping body; the dip of his ribs, the rise of his hips. He would have looked like an angel had it not been for the bruises under his eyes, the tubes in his veins, the quiet hum of the machines around him.
Cocaine overdoses can stop people's lungs, stop their hearts, stop their brains. The doctor says it usually takes 24 hours after emergency treatment to know whether the victim is out of danger or not.
So Thor waited for 24 hours, and for 24 hours he hated himself more than he'd hated anything before.
Seven weeks ago.
Loki woke in the night, sweaty and dizzy. Blood pounded in his ears and it took him a moment to realise blood was also dripping from his nose.
"Shit," he muttered, standing far too quickly and tripping over his own feet, falling with a thud. Thor shot up in bed immediately, blinking like an owl in the black of the bedroom.
"Loki?" he croaked, fumbling for the bedside light. He flicked it on and scrambled out of the tangle of sheets, padding round to crouch in front of his brother. Loki turned his face away but Thor caught it softly in a large hand.
"Hey," he whispered. "Hey, it's okay, the doctor said this might happen. It's only been a week."
Loki smiled weakly and semi-apologetically as Thor helped him to his feet, leading him toward the bathroom. He lifted Loki's chin and dabbed at the blood on his face with his other hand.
"Are you alright?" he asked when the smaller man had stopped bleeding. Loki nodded slightly, but at the same time he said;
"I feel sick."
"Are you going to be sick?"
A pause. Then;
"I… yes."
Thor said okay and sat with him on the bathroom floor for a few minutes before Loki felt a shudder creep down his spine and vomited into the toilet. Thor stroked his back and held his hair, saying nothing. When Loki had finished he collapsed against Thor's chest, breathing heavily. Thor continued playing with a few strands of pitch hair until Loki's eyes drifted closed. Gently, Thor lifted him bridal-style and Loki hooked his arms around Thor's neck, sleepily burying his face in it's crook. Thor carried him back to the bedroom and slipped him under the covers, climbing in beside him. Loki reached for his hand and they fell asleep with their fingers entwined.
Three weeks ago.
The door clicked shut and Thor switched the television off, stepping into the hall. Loki was tiptoeing into the bedroom.
"Loki," Thor said and his voice was low. Loki froze then turned with a vaguely sheepish expression on his face.
"Don't start, Thor," he said and Thor groaned at the slur in his voice. In a flash, the hall light was on and Loki moaned, shielding his eyes. Thor stepped towards him and pulled his arm down with force. Loki's pupils were wide.
"Fucking hell," Thor whispered. "Are you fucking serious, Loki?"
Loki smirked and Thor resisted the urge to punch him.
"What was it?" he demanded.
Loki shrugged. "Same as b'fore, I guess."
"You're a fucking idiot."
"You're obsessive."
"Obsessive?" Thor shouted. "I'm obsessive? I'm not obsessive Loki, I'm worried! I'm angry! I'm- I'm your brother-"
"No you're not," Loki said, face straight, and he sounded so sober and empty. Thor's jaw clenched.
"You know what I mean."
"What?" Loki challenged in a hiss. "What am I to you, Thor? To you, what am I?"
Thor rolled his eyes and began to walk away; mumbling something along the lines of "Can't deal with this."
Loki began to laugh, high and broken and manic and he didn't stop laughing. His back bumped against the wall, hands clutching at his sides, laughing, laughing.
"What's so funny?" Thor spat. Loki smiled madly. Thor slapped him and anger made it harder than he intended. Loki's head snapped to the side and the breath flew out of his lungs. Thor shook his head in disgust. "You're an idiot," he said again. As he spun on his heel and slammed the bedroom door behind him, Loki slid down the wall and started to cry.
Two weeks ago.
Loki sat on a rickety chair on the balcony, bare feet up and resting on the rail, pale skin warming in the April sun. His head was back, eyes closed, Imogen Heap playing quietly in his earphones. He jumped a little when he felt a kiss on his cheek and he opened his eyes, smiling to see Thor leaning over him with a cup of coffee in his hand. He took it gratefully and Thor sat down on the stool he'd dragged out from the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" Thor asked. Loki nodded. Thor hesitated, and then, quietly; "Are we okay?"
Loki frowned, sitting up a little. "How do you mean?"
"I mean… this… this is still working, right?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
Thor chewed his bottom lip. "Last week," he said awkwardly. Loki shook his head repeatedly.
"Thor," he said. "Bar it. Okay? That was nothing to do with us; that was just me, alright?"
Thor looked at him as though he were a jigsaw puzzle he couldn't figure, so Loki leant over and kissed him. It was an 'I'm sorry'. It was an 'I forgive you'. It was a 'we're okay, of course we're okay, we'll always be okay.'
It satisfied Thor, and neither of them said anything for a long while, until;
"I'm bored of London."
Thor turned. "What?"
"Just at the moment," Loki explained. "I think we need to leave. Just for a bit."
Thor stared at Loki, and then looked and stared at the clouds. His eyes followed the skyline of buildings, old and new- mainly old in Soho. He liked London. Loki loved London. But a restless feeling began to manifest itself in his chest as his mind rolled over Loki's words and he looked back to him.
"Okay," he said.
A/N: basically a prologue or recap or however. Next stop- America!
Ps- expect geographical bullshitting; I've never been to New York.