Summary: An extremely fluffy oneshot, taking place a couple of years before the first Thor movie. Loki wonders why a drunk Thor can't simply stagger home into his own bed. Not intended as slash, but definitely enough fluff to choke a bilgesnipe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own no one, and no profit is made. Never fear.

Drunken Snuggling

Loki was comfortable. While sleep often eluded him, a perfect storm of conditions on this particular evening had the younger prince of Asgard sleeping soundly for a change. The room was pitch dark and slightly cold, and his limbs were each situated in just the right position beneath the covers. Doubtless this unusually deep slumber explained why Loki did not hear his chamber door opening just after the moon had set.

No sleep could possibly go undisturbed, however, when the bed suddenly bounced under the crashing deadweight of the God of Thunder.

"Wha?" Loki sat bolt upright in a panic before noticing the fully-clothed form of his brother sprawled at length across his bed. "Thor! What in Hel are you doing here at this hour?"

"You should've come with us tonight, Loki."

Thor's slurring words carried with them the unmistakable odor of mead, and Loki closed his eyes with a groan before falling back so that his head hit the pillows again with a thump. Thor was drunk, having spent his evening at a favorite tavern with the Warriors Three, and now somehow he had staggered his way back into Loki's room rather than his own.

"Loki, Loki," Thor drawled again, "why weren't you there? I missed you, and we had such a good time."

Loki propped himself back up on his elbows and echoed, "You missed me? I rather doubt that, Brother. Furthermore, your definition of a 'good time' and mine are two very different things."

"But it still would've done you good. I never see you have fun anymore, Brother, not unless you're being mean to someone."

"Not all of my tricks are mean-spirited," Loki snapped back, flinching internally at the realization that he'd known exactly to what Thor was referring. And why was he arguing with a drunk Thor, anyway? Even a sober Thor was all but useless in a debate.

"Thor, I'm sure you're ready to sleep for a good long time now, so why don't you go on back to your own room?"

"But I wanna stay here," Thor pouted. "Can't I stay here, Loki? Please?" He gave his brother his most pitiful face, and Loki sighed in defeat. There was simply no way he'd be able to physically relocate Thor without the elder god's cooperation.

"Very well, Thor, you may stay," he conceded at last, "but only if you take your boots off. You've already tracked mud onto my comforter, and I can only pray you haven't stepped in any horse manure lately."

Thor frowned, putting far too much effort into recollecting. "I don't think I have…but you know, I really can't remember." He then started chuckling randomly and sat up to begin picking at his boot laces.

Unfortunately, Thor's drunken state did not mix well at all with his thick, unwieldy fingers; and after several moments of fruitless fumbling on his part, Loki was forced to intervene. He swatted away his sibling's clumsy hands and made short work of the laces himself. Getting the boots off Thor's feet was another matter. Loki had to drag himself out of bed for that task, tugging with considerable effort to remove the offensive footgear.

He tossed the boots aside, then saw to his utmost aggravation that Thor had already comfortably resituated himself in the exact same spot on the bed which Loki had just vacated.

"Thor!" he protested out of instinct.

But the God of Thunder just drowsily replied, "I wanna sleep under the covers, 's cold in here."

Loki rolled his emerald eyes, suddenly deciding this particular battle wouldn't be worth the expended energy. Actually getting Thor under the covers proved to be an epic accomplishment as well, leaving Loki feeling genuinely exhausted again by the time they were done; and he was all too happy to climb back into bed opposite his brother.

He was almost asleep when Thor spoke again. "Thank you, Brother."

"Don't mention it, Thor. Just go to sleep."

Loki didn't have long to get comfortable, though, before Thor was quite literally on top of him, crushing him with his torso while one meaty arm wrapped around his shoulders. The Trickster also had the distinct impression that Thor was nuzzling the back of his neck.

"Get off me, you drunken idiot!" he hissed. "I am not one of your cheap wenches to be cuddled!"

"But you're so pretty, Loki, and I missed you."

Loki's patience was wearing thin, but the final straw came when he felt Thor plant a sloppy kiss behind his ear.

"Gah!" He jerked back sharply with his elbow, catching Thor in the sternum, and he heard his brother utter a pained grunt that almost made him feel guilty. Almost. It still hadn't succeeded in getting Thor off him.

"Loki…"

The younger god put an edge of steel in his voice now. "Thor – you know that I love you. But if you kiss me again, I will turn your tongue into a Midgardian cactus plant."

He could practically hear Thor's frown. "See what I mean? You're no fun anymore."

"Then why do you keep saying you missed me?"

"Because I did; we don't spend nearly as much time together as we used to. You're my brother, Loki…and I fear, sometimes, I'm not as nice to you as I should be."

"Hmph," Loki huffed, almost to himself. "What I wouldn't give to hear you say that when you're sober. And speaking of that, aren't you due to fall into a drunken stupor anytime now? Thor?"

Only a soft snoring in his ear answered him, and Loki felt the remaining tension drain out of his body in a rush. He even managed a small, genuine small as he murmured, "Goodnight, Brother."

"Loki?" The look on Thor's face when he woke several hours later was truly priceless. "Why am I in your room?"

Loki looked up from the book he was reading beside an open window. "Because apparently you cannot find your own when you're drunk as a vagrant."

Thor squinted against the sunshine and raised a hand gingerly to his forehead. "Do I have to be anywhere this morning?"

"I would say your gaggle of shield companions might miss you; but considering that they are likely in the exact same state as yourself right now, I wouldn't trouble myself over them. You and I are both due to dine with Mother later on, but that is not until this evening."

"Oh, good," Thor mumbled, slumping pitifully back down into the blankets. "Loki, how is it that you always seem to know my schedule better than I do?"

"I simply pay attention, Brother, while you obstinately ignore everything that does not need to be crushed with your hammer."

The Thunderer groaned. "I really can't remember much from last night…I don't even remember leaving the tavern. What did I do after I got here?"

The younger god appeared to give it thoughtful consideration. "Well, you woke me up, firstly. You invaded my bed and tracked dirt onto the covers. Next, you invited yourself to spend the night and tried to kiss me."

"Tried to kiss you?" Thor echoed with a grimace.

"Indeed. You were moderately successful too, although I would rather not dwell on that. Afterward, you proceeded to snore into my ear all night long, and, to top it off, you drooled onto my neck."

The crown prince put on his most penitent of faces. "I'm sorry, Brother."

"As well you should be." Loki sighed. "Still, all things considered, I suppose it could have been worse. At least you didn't empty the contents of your stomach onto my bed."

"There is still a chance of that yet."

"Thor – don't you dare."

The End

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the fluff!