Notes: part IX of the series By watchfires and thrones of crowned kings. Thorki.

First published on AO3 with the tags Jötunn Loki, Loki Feels, Requited Love, Sensuality, Acceptance, Flash Fic, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Translation, King Thor, Post Avengers Asgard. Translation of my own work, unbetaed.

Have some fluff, again ;)


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Feet of water and frost

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Loki is lying on the canapé, naked, and cannot talk.

His thoughts are silent. He can only offer himself – as pale blue and cold as the first snowfall, belly exposed – to Love's gaze, while Love gazes upon him. A request, a look, and finally he conceded. Quiet, Thor leaves the antechamber's semidarkness and approaches. The light entering from the stained glass illuminates everything; with effort, Loki does not withdraw, letting himself be observed.

(Gone is the time for secrets.)

While Thor sits next to him and reaches forward to caress his sides, Loki feels overwhelmed by an endless summer. Not even Jotunheim is barren, then. The thaw has come.

"Thor..."

It's more a sigh than a name. Thor's response is to smile and trace with callused thumbs the tribal lines crossing Loki's Jötun face, holding it in his hands. They're as hot as the sun.

"Don't break your concentration, now" he says.

Loki feels himself tremble. He remembers that his magic is susceptible to emotions, it could disperse – and now it's all that permits them to touch.

Breath leaves him with a wordless sound. Who do you take me for?

Then he thinks that, after all, he's not the person who came back from the void any more than a plant is the same from seed to tree. He lowers his eyelids, searching for poise between caresses and tepid breaths, under the murmur of secret words. He's embraced things that seemed illusory, because he discovered they weren't – love has given wings to his feet of water and frost. He feels them beat inside his chest, he sees them in Thor's eyes; they exist in the way Thor kisses him.

And in the way he takes him, again and again, without ever averting his gaze.

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