Prompt: pairing: Thorki ... Word: Spanking (Warning for spanking, whipping, light bdsm and psuedo-incest).
When they had first discovered the elder Odinson's proclivity for a good spanking, it had been entirely accidental. Well, the action inspiring a sexual response had been an accident, at the time, Loki had very much intentionally whipped his brother's behind with a riding crop. That giant oaf, spreading rumours about him laying with beasts.
Never mind the fact that he simply enjoyed caring for such majestic creatures. No, to the adolescent mind, apparently spending time in the company of horses of course meant he desired them. The rumour had spread to such a degree that some were joking about him siring Father's new steed; the magically octoped stallion.
Fools.
So yes, the whipping itself had been both intentional and satisfactory, but when Thor's cheeks reddened and his eyes darkened, Loki had realized the satisfaction was not his alone. From that moment, after experiencing a passionate and raw side of Thor's sexuality he'd never before had the fortune of meeting, Loki worked a good whooping into almost every forbidden encounter.
If Loki had to choose a favourite time, he'd have to say the night before Thor's 450th birthday. As a gift, Loki had unleashed a custom made, leather cat 'o' nine tails. The nine individual lashes holding a tight-bound knot at their end and an enchantment slowing the Æsir-fast healing of the wounds, making sure the sting lasted, and with it with Thor's memory of Loki's affections. He'd worked Thor into such a frenzy, they'd broken the bed.
However, it wasn't the sex itself – stupendously mind-blowing as it had been – but the birthday dinner the next day. Thor had been so raw, he'd been unable to sit for more than a few moments without squirming. Watching the usually so confident, up front prince bumble and stutter his way through awkward dismissals and terrible lies, had been almost as satisfying as the joining itself.
"Thor, my son. You seem troubled. Is all well?" Their mother had asked, pressing a hand to Thor's forehead.
"For goodness sake, sit still boy. And smile, dignitaries from far off realms have travelled across the stars to pay head to your birth. Show some respect." Their dear father had admonished.
"If I didn't know any better Thor, I'd say you'd finally let that comely chamber boy have his way with you." Said Fandral, inspiring both humour and irrational jealously from Loki.
But, above all the teasing, above all the awkwardness that only a true god of mischief could enjoy, Loki would treasure the night. The night when Thor had come to him for help applying ointment. The night when Loki had allowed his guard to fall, and allowed all the affection he felt for his brother to show in a rare, tender manner. But mostly, he'd remember and treasure that night for the words Thor had spoken to him.
"You, brother, are the only being alive I would allow to mark me in such a way. Do you know why?"
"No, why?"
"Because you are the only being alive whom owns every inch of my heart."
