A/N: Hey there - this is my second fic for this fandom, but the first multi-chapter one. Greatest thanks to my beta and close friend, RosiePosieRW for sticking with me throughout the whole process of this fic, which had been sitting on my Drive for four months.
Any reviews and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, and feel free to PM me with any queries and crap. I've rambled on long enough - hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE:
This is real life. We don't always get to be with the one that we love most. We just be with the one that we can love.
Loki detests the taste of smoke. But he loves the way it coils up at the bottom, strong and thick, but gradually becomes weak, thin, and blends, then disappears as if it were never there. He finds it beautiful, watching the colours mist into nothing. It's still there of course, but he just doesn't see any of it. Loki scoffs. Maybe it was a bit like him
He takes a long drag from the cigarette while leaning against the headboard of a bed not of his own. He tilts his head back and purses his lips, managing to blow a steady stream of smoke before coughing into his arm, eyes squeezed in discomfort. Next time, maybe he should just watch it burn. The sudden sound from earlier causes the body that lay beside him to stir and hook Loki's leg with his own.
"What's up?" he murmurs into the pillow, still half asleep and probably not willing to listen to his bed partner.
Loki stays quiet for a few seconds. "Nothing, Stark. Go back to sleep." he says, gently. But he didn't need to say it. Tony had already fallen asleep again.
Loki stays like that for a while. Time does not pass in his mind as his eyes glaze over, entranced by the smoke. Sometimes, he wishes that he could be like it, then laughs a little, thinking of a video game his brother always played.
'Where there is smoke, there is fire.'
Who was the fire, though?
He blinks. The smoke had stopped coming in a steady stream at the end of his cigarette. He crushes the end of the cigarette in the ashtray, putting it out. Sleep finally overcomes him. He pulls the covers over himself, and shuffled closer to the warmth of the man. Maybe not the one he loves most, but one he can love.
When Odin and Frigga first brought home 'a small bundle of joy', the elder of the two infants had learnt to run just a few months prior. Unfortunately, that meant that Thor spent his days running around the house, knocking vases off their allocated spaces, ruining perfectly-made beds, waking his parents up at six in the morning because he was simply unable to go back to sleep, or just generally being a huge (albeit loveable) nuisance to all those around him.
However, his parents were finally able to heave a great sigh of relief when instead of breaking things, Thor sat quietly, prodding at the small baby in the crib. He was fascinated, asking his parents questions like 'Where did he come from?', and 'He's my little brother?', then smiled so wide that he received the smallest of giggles from his own little brother.
Of course, at first, Odin and Frigga were slightly concerned that Thor's clumsy hands may just hurt his younger brother and only allowed the small boy to be around Loki if they were around. Disheartened, Thor resulted to tactics. Which really was to sit for long periods of time on his hands (ten minutes) staring at his parents and holding his breath (for thirty seconds) until he was gasping for breath. With a resigned look on their faces, Odin and Frigga opted to let Thor sit beside Loki's crib alone. That is, if he behaved well for the entire day.
Thor would soon find out that he was the type of person who was able to get whatever he wanted as long as he flashed a brilliant smile. But at a young age, he simply took it for granted and grinned back cheekily whenever Loki glared at him for pulling at his fingers, or poking his soft cheeks, or sneaking inside the nursery after his bedtime and waking his younger brother up.
Once Thor had reached the age of six, he realised Loki glared at him a lot. He'd always give him a nasty look when he'd interrupted him during the screening of The Teletubbies or when he was taking his daily nap. So during that hot summer where Thor had finally tired from running around in the sand and splashing sea water at his new 'friends', he jogged over to Loki who was scribbling something in a notebook under the shade of the umbrella. He sat there for a while, staring at Loki.
"Loki, do you hate me?"
He shrugged. A handful of sand cooled by the shade hit Thor's front.
"Dunno. Don't ask stupid questions"
Thor just took it as a 'no', too roused to think properly. With the biggest growl a six year old boy could produce, he tossed hot sand onto Loki's shorts, earning him a hiss and a small glare. Thor just laughed and ran away, feeling completely full of energy again.
He later found out that the water in his drink bottle had been replaced with wet sand. Thor swears to this day that he saw Loki smiling smugly around a forkful of his greens as his face went red.
He never got Loki back for that.
Weeks later when Thor's summer finally came to a close and he was able to enter primary school, he refused to take off his uniform. He modelled the rather unattractive clothing to his parents and Loki because he 'looked like a big boy' and kicked Loki's feet from under the table when he said it was a very ugly red. Thor just accused Loki of being a jealous sourpuss.
Maybe it was true (it was 100% true) proven by the obvious sulk that was spread over Loki's childish pout. Thor couldn't help himself from rubbing it in his brother's face even more as he strutted around the house in his rather baggy school uniform. When it got to the point where his whole family was rather tired and Loki pushed Thor - uniform and all- into the bathtub, he was finally stripped of his clothes by his younger brother.
Frigga thinks that the reason why this memory is permanently scorched into their brains is because it was the first time Thor cried in front of other people, except for his brother. The boys think it's because Odin had it framed and hung above their beds for five years until Loki moved out.
There used to be a park beside the Borsons' residence. Not used to - it's still there. The occasional jogger might run past, but they would definitely quicken their pace as they passed. It was more of an urban legend that had been passed around the town for the past few years, spread mainly from the primary school up the street. When one of the walls collapsed and fractured the leg of a small girl, a nine year old Thor (suddenly into the supernatural, his sketchbooks filled with way too many bad drawings of ghosts) freaked out and had his friends ("Sidekicks," a teacher once said) get worked up that it was the work of a spirit.
Naturally, all the parents just scoffed and considered it a child's excitement, still young and naive. That was until one of the town's less-known criminals, nicknamed 'Frostbite', had escaped from a low-security prison a few kilometers out and was found in the bathrooms of the park. His body wasn't found until a few days later, when one of the town's locals complained about the horrifying stench from one of the stalls.
The prison never noticed Frostbite's disappearance.
"What? You mean that your parents let you guys stay up after eleven?" A heavy thunk came from under the table, where Sif's bag now lay.
The young boy just laughs, then motions for his four friends to come in closer to hear his story. When he received the ever-so-common roll of his brother's eyes when he heard him from another table, to tell him that 'yes, that will be fine, you idiot'. Loki never actually told Thor that the 'idiot' was there, but he could almost hear the friendly jib rolling off his tongue.
"Guys, haven't we gone through this before?" he asked, faking exasperation but nevertheless being content with telling this story again and again. "Sometimes, my mum and dad are talking about something in the kitchen and my brother always knows when they're coming up. So I sleep whenever!"
"If Ms Marchel was to hear about this, you and your parents will receive an angry letter," Volstagg told him.
"What could she do about it? Cut off your hair?" Sif scoffed.
"You know very well what it's like to have your hair cut off," Loki retorted, eavesdropping as he passed by 'Thor and his loser friends'. The only reason, everyone thinks, that Loki does actually continue being a snide little prick is because that he knows he can talk (or cry) his way out of any situation.
Loki just smirked as the fork hit the wall and clattered to the ground, escaping into the confines of the school hallway. Just so he wouldn't have more hard, pointy things thrown at him.
They were wrong - Loki just learnt how to lie because he was a mischievous troublemaker. Or rather, just improved his lying. To him, lying was fun. It amused him to no ends just how much shit he could force people to believe if he just put on a fake smile and a confident air.
"Just how are the two of you related? You're a nice person and he's… that!" Sif banged her juice box onto the table, spilling some of the contents onto the plastic table. Volstagg and Thor mourned the waste of juice, because that was good juice.
"You talk about my brother like that and then waste juice?" he jokes, then once again becomes serious. "I'm not gonna lie - Loki can be an absolute ass sometimes. But I'll pinky swear you that he has a heart of gold. Or at least silver."
"Not sure about his heart, but tongue is most definitely made of silver," Fandral mused with a touch of envy.
"That he does." Thor's eyes crinkled as he smiled, remembering some of those hushed conversations on the rug that lay between their bed. They always kept the curtains open to let the soft glow of the moonlight illuminate the room instead of having themselves fumbling around in complete darkness. Loki never liked the dark anyway, always having to have a small book-light by his night stand. He only used it if Thor fell asleep before he did, disliking the feeling of being alone. Light offered him enough comfort.
A few nights earlier, before any cutlery was thrown at Loki in anger, the two boys sat in unease and discomfort as they heard the steadily rising voices of their parents in the kitchen below. Thor had already went down before, to retrieve a glass of milk for Loki who couldn't be bothered doing it himself. But instead, he was greeted with angry voices from his parents, voices that he didn't know his parents made. When Odin spotted the young boy, instead of the rational voice that had a powerful and demanding undertone, there was none of the rationality, but only the latter.
"Thor, what on Earth are you doing up this late?"
Before Thor could answer his question, Odin continued. "You should be in bed, young man, not scavenging about in the kitchen at ten for food,"
"Odin." Frigga's sharp voice cut through her husband's lecture. "Do not take your anger out on other people. Come Thor, let's go back to bed."
Odin showed signs of annoyance, but stayed silent, his one eye watching the two of them. Thor didn't need to worry about Loki being caught out of bed, as he was certain that his own footsteps were loud enough for his brother to hear. His mother trailed closely behind him, and Thor could feel the tension between them both.
"Mum?" He heard her take a deep breath before answering.
"Yes?"
"Why are you and dad angry?"
Frigga contemplated her answer for a while, not sure if she should tell him the truth or not. She knew, or at least though that Thor was too young to know about these things. It might have stressed him out or, god forbid, lead him into distrusting his parents. "We're just a little stressed right now. It's only temporary, don't worry."
Thor nodded. He was young, but he wasn't stupid - he noticed when people sugarcoated things.
The blond slid into his sheets when his mother shut the door and kissed both the boys on their foreheads. A few seconds passed and when they were certain their mother was on the bottom floor, they broke into quiet laughter, because Loki was so certain that Thor was in huge trouble and Thor was still a little worried that Loki wasn't going to be able to pull off his fake-sleep act again.
However, their temporary laughter was cut off when they heard steadily rising voices, this time much louder but still unable to make out the words.
Thor denied it the morning after (blaming it on ghosts), but Loki is certain that that night, when the arguing had temporarily quietened down, but then moved to the bedroom next to theirs, the elder of the two had pushed his own bed closer to Loki's. Thor said that even if he did do it (putting way too much emphasis on the word 'if' for it to be believable), he probably did it because his bed was much closer their parents rooms. Thor was a terrible liar, having almost always told the truth. Loki believes that Thor was scared. And Loki was scared himself, scared to admit that he was scared.
That's probably why he didn't spread the story around.