Author's Note: The "warm liquid" mentioned here is semen, just in case you couldn't figure it out. C;
Loki couldn't suppress the low, husky purr from rumbling deep in his throat, fingers dancing in lazy approval over the image displayed in an iridescent globe. He didn't deserve his brothers trust, nor his love. He was a trickster, after all. Lord of Mischief. And, his sibling was no exception, for he performed his dirtiest deeds upon the golden man, smirk hidden by shadows. He felt no shame, hadn't for ages.
Even if he was caught, Thor would always forgive him. Always love him. And that was about as dirty as the warm liquid dripping from Loki's palms, for a trust that deep had to have it's secrets, too.