Cross post from Archive of Our Own, where it goes under the same title.
Written to: Let Her Go - Passenger
Thor doesn't remember when Loki stopped smiling. The realisation crept up on him gradually, slipping through worrisome stacks of assigned reading material and the holes in the bottoms of his shoes.
It didn't exactly help that his brother had always been rather quiet, preferring to spend most of his waking hours in the company of books, a fact that hadn't changed as he'd begun to attend university. Loki spent most of his time after classes either in the library or in their apartment, reading, drawing, writing, studying. Thor sometimes worried about his brother, who didn't seem to be interested in going to raves on the weekends or getting drunk or having hurried, desperate sex crammed into a frat house bathroom; all of these, as far as Thor was concerned, made up a wholesome and well-rounded uni experience, and Loki was missing out on all of it.
Yet his brother seemed fine, and if he didn't approve of Thor going to raves on the weekends and stumbling home in the quiet hours of the morning smelling sharply of alcohol and the cheap stink of perfume, he held his tongue.
The last time he remembers Loki smiling is when their parents had sat him down at the breakfast table two days after an eventful doctor's appointment and explained to him that he was adopted.
Odin and Frigga watched him carefully for any signs of distress. Thor sat silently, tensely on the opposite side of the table, found his toast suddenly dry and bitter in his mouth.
Loki didn't say anything for a very long time. When Thor chanced to look up, he found the corners of Loki's mouth twitching sharply upwards, as if he found it amusing how absurdly insane this all was.
Thor does not see the tears that curl into the shadows of Loki's eyes. He does not really understand what his parents mean by a predisposition to a certain disease that he cannot remember right now, does not understand the subtleties of chemical concentrations.
Thor doesn't see how this makes his brother different than he was before, and his parents do not, will not, cannot explain in words that will make his twelve-year-old self understand.
The night Thor brings home a feisty brunette named Jane or Jennifer or something like that from a sorority party is the same night Loki decides he wants to indulge in one of Thor's favourite methods of entertainment.
Jane/Jennifer falls asleep almost as soon as Thor drags her down onto the beat up couch in the living room. He frowns and hangs his head in despair, the unforgiving material of his jeans pressing uncomfortably into his insistent erection as he turns to her and takes off her too-tall shoes and maneuvers her entire body onto the couch.
A few minutes pass listening to her deep even breathing before he hears Loki clear his throat.
He looks up to see his younger brother's slender form pressed up against the doorway to his room, an amber bottle dangling dangerously from his fingers. His glasses that he wears at night conceal his eyes, and his dark hair has been pulled back into a short, sloppy ponytail. His milky skin glows softly in the dimness of the living room, and Thor's breath catches in his throat.
"Loki," he says, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and hoping that the pounding headache he can feel forming will disappear on its own. "What are you still doing up?"
Loki snorts and rolls his eyes. "It's a bit hard to get to sleep when you add your oafish grunts and rustlings to the people shouting outside," he says before lifting the bottle to his lips. Thor watches the graceful slant of Loki's throat as he swallows and, not for the first time, thinks how easily his brother could pass for a woman. "I don't understand how you can find enjoyment in this stuff," Loki says conversationally, lowering the bottle and pulling a face of disgust.
"It is not the taste that I find enjoyable," Thor mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It is how it makes you feel afterwards." He stands up, taking care not to wake the girl beside him, and walks towards Loki. "You've most likely had too much already, if you're hearing things," he comments, easily loosening the bottle's neck from his brother's slack fingers and taking a swallow.
"I don't like her." His brother's voice is quiet, his words slippery and loose. Thor raises an eyebrow and finishes off the beer, rolling the bottle around in his hands.
"You've never met her. How would you know what she's like?"
"They're all the same. Her, those other girls that you sometimes bring back, they're not different."
Thor shrugs. "What would you have me do? Unfortunately, I am unable to find this kind of satisfaction in books and drawings as you are."
"They'll take you away."
Thor laughs, the very idea seeming ridiculous. "I have no plans to marry anyone at the moment. Unfortunately it seems like we'll be living together for quite a while yet."
He looks at Loki and is surprised to see the silver traces of tears winding thin paths down his cheeks.
"Loki, what's wrong?"
His brother presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, but Thor can still see the slim shoulders shaking, can still hear the soft, choked exhales of sobs.
"They'll take you away and then I'll be alone; they'll hurt me if I'm alone."
Thor grasps Loki's wrists and pulls them away from his eyes. His brother looks a messy wreck, brows wrinkled in fear and frustration.
"Who will hurt you?" he asks, hushed.
"Them," Loki whispers. "The people outside."
"How can they hurt you? There are no people outside, Loki."
Loki looks confused, tears still stroking gently down the planes of his cheeks. "Can't you hear them?" he whispers, his mouth trembling. "Maybe not; they are not so loud when you are here to take up all the air and they cannot breathe to shout."
The alcohol floods Thor's head with wanton thoughts, and when next Loki opens his mouth to speak, he presses soft kisses to Loki's thin mouth, unsure of what else to do. When he pulls away, Loki lifts trembling fingers to his lips, puffy and swollen red, his eyes wide and forest green and damp. Thor thinks in that moment that his brother is like a hallucination himself, a beautiful image that might be dispelled by the faintest breath of disbelief, and he reaches out to cradle that pinched face in a rough hand.
"Can you still hear them now, Loki?" he asks, his voice rough.
"No," his brother breathes, looking at him in wonder. "They're not talking anymore."
Thor's large hands run through Loki's soft hair, tugging it out of the elastic. He can feel Loki's fingers curling into his shirt, still shaky but holding him there tightly. He kisses him again.
Loki tastes like alcohol and salt and something else, and Thor knows that this is insane, madness, that he shouldn't be doing this with Loki of all people. But when Loki presses back against him, when he turns his head to breathe shakily "I want," he cannot help but comply.
Loki's room is much neater than his own, a fact that is barely registered as Thor presses Loki down on his bed, pressing messy, openmouthed kisses to his neck and feeling his pulse quicken underneath his teeth.
He pushes up Loki's old sleeping T-shirt, mouths at the dusky nipples underneath until they peak, rosy and hard against his fingers. Loki's back arches underneath him, and those long pale fingers thread into Thor's hair and tighten slightly. Whispers of Thor's name fill the air with desperation and desire, and he responds by leaving marks all over Loki's pale skin until the hands in his hair are pushing him down to find a firmness hot against his cheek.
Thor's hand curves around him, pumping roughly, stroking gently through the soft fabric of Loki's black silk boxers. With every stroke, Loki's breath comes in rough sobs as his hips press up relentlessly, reluctantly against his hands.
As Loki's hips start to stutter up erratically and his sobs turn into choked off half-cries and gasps, Thor pulls away; when he turns back, his brother stares at him, a pink flush staining his cheeks and winding its way down his neck and chest. He looks confused, perhaps a bit angry, and Thor grins as his brother frowns at him.
"I was going to come," his brother says, pouting a little, and Thor laughs at his brother's bluntness.
"Yes, I daresay you were."
Loki props himself up on his elbows, adjusting his glasses as he watches Thor tug off his shirt and toss it unceremoniously on the floor. Thor pulls a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and tosses it on the bed next to Loki; his jeans join his shirt on the floor as he wriggles out of them with a sigh of relief before returning to join Loki on the bed.
"Ought we to be doing this?" Loki asks.
Thor looks at his brother. "No, probably not," he agrees before he rolls over and pins Loki underneath him. "But you can't hear them anymore, right? The people outside?"
"No," Loki murmurs, looking up at him. "I cannot."
"Then don't complain," Thor whispers as he presses his brother's hands above his head.
Loki winces at the slight burn of Thor's index and middle fingers breaching him, slightly distracted by Thor leaning over and sucking kisses into his chest. He frowns and wriggles a bit under his brother, trying to make it feel more comfortable.
Loki's body tenses suddenly as Thor's fingers curl and press upwards, and he watches with amusement as Loki chokes on a breath before letting it out in a soft groan.
"Feel good?"
Loki nods, presses his hips upward. "Again," he demands breathlessly. And because Loki has never been good at asking nicely, Thor grins and does it again and again until Loki is a writhing mess underneath him.
Thor slips out of his boxers and tosses them to join Loki's on the floor in a tangle of crimson and black. He watches Loki watch him lazily stroke his erection once, twice, thrice before ripping open the condom packet with his teeth and rolling it on.
Thor watches Loki's brows furrow in pain as he presses into him. Loki is hot and pliant underneath him, tighter than any woman he has been with, and he has to struggle not to force the way.
He draws out slowly, presses in equally as glacially, and they continue in this manner until Loki presses his hips down in frustration.
"Hurry up."
Thor smiles and presses another kiss to his brother's frowning mouth.
And because Thor is not paying attention, and Loki is too focused on the sounds of Thor's breaths and soft grunts, neither of them hear Loki's bedroom door click shut.
Thor's hips snap against Loki's in double time, and when Loki's breaths are once again coming in fast, erratic sobs, Thor reaches down and hoists a pale leg over his shoulder and grasps Loki's erection in his palm. He strokes at the hot velvety skin in time with his thrusts, his thumb swiping occasionally over the flushed head and rubbing the clear fluid into Loki's skin.
"Please," Loki sobs, his back arching up and his cock jumping in Thor's hand. "I can't."
And because this is the first time Loki has begged, Thor acquiesces and strokes more firmly, thrusts a bit more roughly, and comes in the same moment that Loki shudders violently around him and smears his hand with white with a cry of his name.
Thor presses a kiss to Loki's cheek as he pulls out. He peels off the condom, careful not to get anything on Loki's cotton sheets, ties it off and goes to the bathroom to throw it away.
Jane/Jennifer is not on the couch when he walks out of Loki's room, his boxers carelessly thrown on. She is not in the bathroom or anywhere else in the apartment, and Thor concludes that she had woken up and left, a thought that is confirmed by the unlocked state of the front door and the absence of her shoes.
He washes up his face and hands before he returns to Loki with a warm wet towel and gently cleans him. His brother watches through lidded eyes, and when he stands up to go, he is surprised by the strength of the thin fingers which reach out and grab his wrist.
"Sleep with me tonight."
It is not a request, and Thor drops the towel onto the pile of his clothes as he crawls into bed beside him, drawing Loki into the protective circle of his arms.
He runs his hands through Loki's long hair and presses soft kisses to the crown of his head. Loki falls asleep with a peaceful half-smile on his face, and Thor hugs him tightly as he drags the sheets up around them.
Loki is undeniably grateful when he wakes and finds Thor sleeping softly next to him, his features bathed in the soft pinks and golds of early morning. He wriggles himself into the tight circle of Thor's arms, and as he feels the broad chest rising and falling in time with his own, he silently thanks any gods that might exist that this, at least, is real.
