Throughout his life Thor has had many reoccurring thoughts about Loki, but one seems to have overtaken all the others. Loki is beautiful, breath taking, stunning. Thor comes from an old culture, renowned for their warriors and storytellers, and yet Thor had long since stopped trying to use words to describe Loki. He could ramble on and on, and yet the only thing he would accomplish was frustration.

Thor had thought Loki beautiful the first time he had his brother naked and desperate beneath him. There was desire burning in those haunting green eyes, desire aimed only at Thor. For those long, and all too short hours where they were entangled together Loki's attention was only on him. He was not focused on destruction and chaos, beyond what would make Thor fuck him harder. He was happy and so, so beautiful.

He'd had the same thought after they were done. Thor had looked over to see Loki content, moonlight falling across his face. His eyes were closed, but he was obviously still awake. "Stop staring, Thor," he had murmured. Thor had chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, entwining his fingers with Loki's. He hadn't stopped staring, not until he'd fallen asleep himself. There was no physical way to tear his eyes away from something that beautiful.

The last time that thought had overtaken his mind, Thor was lying in bed. Loki was stretched out over him, rubbing his cheek against Thor's beard, toes poking at Thor's ankles. Thor ran his hands over Loki's sides, keeping him impossibly close. "I'm pregnant," Loki had whispered.

Thor had nearly unseated him in his hurry to sit up, but he had kept his arms around Loki, which had caused their cheeks to smash together. Loki was wrinkling his nose in displeasure, but there was still that lovely spark of joy in his eyes. "Excited are we?" Loki had teased. He was so happy, so beautifully happy all Thor could do was kiss him.

But now, now Thor knows he did not know the true meaning of the word. If he told Loki the moment he finds him most beautiful is one where Loki is fully clothed, Loki would surely be furious with him. But Thor cannot help it. There is morning sunlight streaming in through the nursery window, falling over Loki and their week old baby. Móði babbles softly against his mother's shoulder, flexing his little fingers just because he can. Loki holds him close, one hand rubbing his small back, the other holding his blond head. Those green eyes Thor so loves staring into open slowly, and for a brief moment there is nothing but love in Loki's eyes.

Thor has long since realized this is what he wants, but this moment, this one moment of pure untainted beauty, will be the one he forever holds close to his heart.