Hi everyone, I'm really sorry about the delay in this chapter, but life got in the way. I will say that I hope there won't be many more delays, seeing as the entire roleplay has been written out, and all I need to do is put it into story form. But I am very sorry for how long it took for this to come out. I'll try to keep the updates more regular nowadays.

And also, forgive the fact that there is no sex, but this is rated M for violence, and implications of sex, along with language. I'm not putting any sex scenes up on here, just so I can make sure that it doesn't get taken down. Plus I haven't finished writing the sex scene out, and figured since I am putting edited versions up on here, that ya'll could get it first, but any time that there is a sex scene, you can find it, in the full version of the chapter, on our AO3. And I'll put a link to it on our profile. :)

And I know this chapter is short, but it was originally just supposed to be added with chapter one, but I didn't wanna have one go on forever! Next chapter will be longer! :D


And Yet So Far

Chapter Two


"Please."

Bitter bile rose in his throat from the mere thought of the word he'd whispered out so pitifully, causing Loki to turn his head away defiantly. In all the millennia he'd stood by Thor's side – nay, in his shadow – he had never dared look Thor in the eye after saying that demeaning word.

Loki would be damned if that would change now.

But Thor had never bowed at the sound of that word falling from his lips as children, and Loki knew that now was no different. The most he could do was refuse his desire to catch a fleeting glimpse of those fierce, oh so abhorrently concerned eyes as his hands were brought close to Thor's lips. He was well beyond the scant years when this simple action had melted him easily though, because back then he had still held hope.

Now though…

Now all there was—all he had… All there had ever been was the tormenting knowledge that had hardened his heart. The unbearable agony that followed the realizations he should have wandered across far before he actually had; piercing, unadulterated awareness that had driven him to mindless massacre.

Yet that hollow burning through his veins refused to abate as Thor's touch weighed heavily in his chest, reminding him of every time before this when he'd been too afraid to act. Too hesitant to break the only bond he held that was laced with even an ounce of truth.

Loki had always refrained…

"Brother… Loki…"

Oh, oh, but there it was, dredging up that bittersweet remembrance once again as Thor's breath sighed against his skin like a plea, desperate and begging for something they both knew the blonde would never get out of him.

They were not brothers. The only tie he'd ever held—the only one that had meant anything to him, even that was tinged, nay, inundated, with falsities that both sickened and relieved his hungry heart.

They were not brothers.

But even now, Thor refused to cease using that title Loki had grown to despise almost as much as the words which followed it when the Thunderer next spoke.

"Brother, I implore you—sit kneeled before you here, and asking only that you allow me to help you."

Help…

Help me…?

But Thor…

The word, simple as it was, twisted a dagger in Loki's chest, and before his next thoughts could form to spoken word Loki had yanked his hands from Thor's grasp to grab his face and pull him up. He glared into those blue eyes for a moment, an unspoken question burning on his tongue as he surged forward.

How, when you're the one who's broken me?

And there it was, blossoming in his chest as their lips crashed together with a bruising force. Truth, in its purest form. Truth that he'd never thought possible for one such as him to attain, but which now poured from him in an outcry, laced with the tortured emotions Loki had never dared allowed himself to feel. Not with such ferocity at least. Not before this moment.

This one eternal, fleeting moment that would stay buried in his heart along with the shame he felt toward himself for these desires.

The one moment which Loki, almost desperately, wished to never let go of.

"Are you truly willing to help me, Brother?" He felt a cruel stab of jealousy tear through his heart as their lips parted slowly, the biting aftermath of that single word leaving a poisonous tingle upon his lips. Because, regardless of the gratifying truth of their situation – the fact that they were not brothers, nor had they ever been – that was all Thor had ever seen him as.

The brother that he'd comforted after accepting into his bed on countless occasions as children; the companion that had followed dutifully, despite his words of complaint and insult as they grew together through adolescence. The Trickster who, once upon a time, had been all he'd had, and all he needed, but who now sat before him, a stranger who had taken the mischief one step too far.

And now, in the wake of their impassioned meeting, Loki sought out those blue eyes. The eyes that had never looked upon him how he'd always craved as he'd grown into his adulthood.

"Are you now, now that you know what it is I desire?"

And finally, those eyes lowered, realization clear, but yet still, Thor did not speak. And Loki could only laugh piteously at himself. Laugh at the fool he'd made himself out to be, hoping idiotically for something he'd always known better than to expect.

"Of course not!" he spat dangerously, squeezing Thor's jaw roughly as he held it fast between his nimble fingers, desiring nothing more than to hurt him. Wanting to see the pain he felt coursing through his entire being reflected in those eyes he had always loathed for reasons unknown for so many centuries of his life.

"All I am to you, all I've ever been is your shadow! The brother who never quite belonged by the side of the Almighty Thor!"

"Loki—"SMACK

Whatever deception he thought Thor was determined to spin with his barbaric attempt at Loki's own craft was quieted immediately with the resonating sound of the slap he had laid upon his not-brother's cheek. A slap he took great pride in landing upon the man, and so did nothing in the moment following the action but watch the color rise to Thor's cheek before placing his hand over the mark.

Almost in a sincere attempt to soothe the burn that he desired to feel thrumming deep through Thor's being, the pad of his thumb stroked faintly over the heated flesh beneath his palm. Loki's eyes traced the edges of the reddened cheek with a satisfactory nod and smirk playing lightly at his lips before moving to search out Thor's imploringly. He opened his mouth, poised to speak, to enlighten the man to the truth as he'd taken himself to believing it, but…

Well, it seemed Thor could move quicker than his infamous silver tongue could.

In an instant, Loki was falling, becoming consumed completely by the man that sat kneeled between his thighs. Blackness overtook his vision as a searing hand curled around the back of his neck, dragging him down to meet the pliant lips and throw him further into a madness he couldn't even dare to understand.

His only thought, repeated relentlessly, was one word, a name, the one he dared not say, lest the man come to his senses and stop kissing him with such a demanding passion and gentleness that was completely and wholly Thor.

"Is this answer enough for you, Brother?"

Shuddering breathes fell upon his slightly trembling lips, Thor's having strayed in their quest for dominance over his tongue, as the soft words were whispered across his skin.

And it was that, those few words, so quietly spoken, that effectively drew Loki from the pool he'd been drowning in as cold swept through him.

Cold he knew far too well from the time he and Thor had spent during their battles on Jotunheim, from the grasp of the Giant who had first turned his skin that unnatural color of blue when he had been caught on the battlefield. Cold he knew too intimately from the kiss it laid upon his soul when his fingers had curled around his ancestor's Casket, that had been taken, just like he had been, as a trophy of war, but which had opened his eyes, finally, to the truth that had been kept from him for all of his life.

The freezing nature of a people he would never claim as his own, but that he had aquainted himself with when he had gone to Laufey, his own father, and planned the assassination that had made him out to be a traitor to his own abominable race.

It now took its grip within him again as rage began to bubble, because of course it was enough. It was all he had ever wanted. But it also wasn't enough either, it wasn't because it made no sense why Thor – perfect, golden, Thor – would share in his sinful desires.

He had waited. For this moment, for his not-brother's kiss, he had waited for eons, and so why did it now come to him so easily?

Loki snarled suddenly, the only thought of why plaguing him, and his fingers, tinged blue with the curse of his race, curled in Thor's blonde locks and pulled harshly, yanking the Thunderer's head back. The man grunted, but his eyes widened as his blue stared back, not into the green of his brother, but into the red of the monsters he'd been raised to kill.

"L-Loki—" another grunt broke anything Thor might have said, Loki having pulled his hair once again, forcing his head further backward, at an uncomfortable angle. At seeing the pain written on Thor's face, the fear that dialated his pupils and quickened his pulse, Loki's features calmed slightly and his free hand moved up to grasp loosely at Thor's neck, to make sure he stared directly into the face of the demon he had set free in his foolishness.

"You think me so easy, don't you? Assuaged by your mere affections?" That was the only answer Loki could come to believe spurred Thor into giving into him so easily, so completely, and without one ounce of fight in him. Of course it was only because he was trying to give his brother what he wanted. To mend his wounded heart in whatever way he could, in whatever way he, Loki, wished it.

"No, Loki, you know I would never think such things of you. I respect you in the—"

"You are a fool, Odinson!" Loki let out a biting laugh, his fingers sliding up Thor's neck, grasping his jaw once again. His entire hand now blue, the color creeping up his arm as he pulled Thor up, their noses brushing due to the closeness, their lips touching in just the slightest of ways with every word Loki continued to spit.

"Your wenches, that Midgardian…" Loki bit harshly at Thor's lip, feeling it rip open beneath his teeth and begin to bleed freely over his fingers. "Every mewling bitch that has ever come crawling on scathed knee for just one touch, one mere taste of Almighty Thunderer…"

Their lips met again, Loki finding still no fight meeting him as the copper tang of Thor's blood bloomed on his tongue. When he pulled away he grinned, wanting Thor to know exactly what madman he was about to allow into his bed; give him one last chance to fight it, to fight him. Because damn it all to Hel if he didn't want Thor to stop acting like he had wanted this as long as he had…

This would only make it harder for him to do what he needed to reach his goal in the end...

"You are more than a fool if you think me to be as easily pleased, to be anything akin to those simple-minded women."

"Never, Loki…"

A wave of warmth crashed over him, crushing through the cold and driving it back down into him, taking with it the blue from his fingers and red that dyed his eyes as he stared at Thor, finding nothing but the stupid honesty that had always got him into more trouble than Loki's lies ever could. But it was the look in those blue eyes that had Loki moving to get away from Thor.

As much as he wanted to do this, as long as he had desired to bed this man, he had never thought for one moment that there was the possibility that Thor had wanted for it too, and that… Though Loki was loathe to admit it, that made his heart clench and sicken him. He felt…guilty.

Guilty for what he had planned, and for what he could now not even bring himself to do; his hand found Thor's shoulder and pushed him gently away so he could move to stand. Yet it was only then that he realized that the man had a grip on his wrist, and that it had been exactly that grip that had driven back the frost of his Jotun nature.

Loki sighed, his own fight, his drive having now left him in the face of this, Thor's honesty, which was now undeniable.

"Thor… Go," he would give him this final chance. Whether the man would take it or not, well, honestly, he knew the answer, but he hoped… He longed for it, for Thor to just leave, because he wanted to be wrong, he wanted this to finally be what brought him down. He was ready, to stop fighting, to give himself over to Odin for his sentencing. He was ready and prepared to lose. As long as it meant not having to face the fact that he would have to betray this man…not when Thor wanted him so purely and in ways that Loki had only ever fantasized about.

But Loki knew Thor. Knew him so well that it had always infuriated him to no end that he did in fact know him like the back of his own hand, or like the inner workings of his own magic. And so all Loki could do was welcome the next kiss Thor gave him, resigning himself to fighting another day. It was, after all, his fate.

"No," Thor breathed against his lips, his hands finding Loki's hips as he pushed him down onto the bed.

Fighting, always fighting. Fighting Thor, until the end of Ragnarok. But they never said they couldn't enjoy themselves along the way as well.

Loki's eyes slipped closed as he finally submitted, allowing Thor to dominate him. His body wanted to scream in torture, to cry as Thor kissed him again, and yet his soul soared and his heart sang, finally beating in tandem with the one they were meant for.

Finally, he let a smirk find its place upon his lips, intent now to just focus on this moment. Only this one, not all the ones that would inevitably come after it, all the ones filled with pain, with anger, and even possibly regret. He wanted only to remember the man hovering above him now, to forget his past, to forget their pain.

Loki wanted only to see the emotion in Thor's eyes, emotion he wouldn't dare put a name to, and lose himself in this, his final moment of comfort in his brother's embrace – for in this moment, and this moment alone, he would consider them something deeper, something akin to what they once were, and what they strove to hold onto.

"Then have me, Brother."

XxX

It was hours later when he awoke next to his brother's side. No, he had to remind himself, now that the act had been completed, Thor. He would not allow the sentiment of the title he had allowed to flow plentifully from his lips during their coupling to follow him as he slipped from the bed now, grateful yet longing all the same.

It was a feeling he knew he would not soon come to forget. And that knowledge made his stomach squirm, but the deed had been done, and now all there was left for him to do was collect himself and leave. Which he did, slowly but with the confidence that he had gone into this with.

There was no longer any turning back.

And yet, that was exactly what Loki, donned now in his more intact Asgardian attire, did as he moved to leave the room, and in turn the man who slept within it.

He turned back, watching Thor as he lay there, bare upon his own bed, a way he had dreamed of so many times before. And now...

No.

Loki shook his head, resolutely turning his back on the Golden Prince before slipping from the room, hoping to be far away before he finally broke free of his sleeping spell.

Giving not another thought to the god he had just given himself to, Loki paused outside his chamber doors and felt out his magic, knowing that the spell he had cast upon Thor had been weak, due to what little he had left. Yet Loki still found he still had enough within him for a few more simple spells, and cast himself into the shadows, ever away from Heimdall's eye as he skirted the halls in search of his weapons. His power.

His way back to finish what he had started.

It took mere moments for Loki to reacquaint himself with the hidden halls that took him down to the Weapon's Vault, whispering fainting spells as he passed the guards who watched over it, so that soon he was standing in the room where it had all begun.

His eyes flitted, searching around the room, taking in every detail, but searching for only one thing. And finally, green eyes fell upon the prize they sought: his scepter.

Loki approached it slowly, tilting his head and examining it as though through a microscope, knowing he had little time, but still keeping with his meticulously careful ways. Finally, he thrust out his hand, not daring to touch the weapon himself, but instead summoned forth a small snake, made of smoke, which curled around in the air before making its way to the scepter.

The snake's tongue flicked out, and all it took was the tip of the forked appendage making contact with the glistening metal to cause both snake and weapon to disappear.

Confident now that Odin hadn't the time yet to set a trap on his scepter, Loki summoned it out of thin air with a wave of his hand, sighing deeply through his nose in delight as he felt a surge of power flood him.

He stood still for a moment more, eyes closed and a grin beginning to split his lips as he chuckled, twirling his lost possession twice in hand, before tapping it to the ground and being transported from the Vault to the Bifrost Bridge, where his grin inevitably turned into a scowl.

And again, he turned back, looking now upon the shining city of the Realm Eternal, thinking of the golden man he had left lying in bed, and feeling that longing rise in him again.

A muscle in his cheek twitched; he growled.

Thor would be waking soon. He had taken too long in retrieving his possession, and now risked the chance of Thor finding him... In another time; another place, that option wouldn't be at all bad. To allow Thor to draw him bodily back to his bed and punish him for his misbehavior, but now...

No. He had made up his mind; Thor had given in and sealed their fate.

Forever fighting, till the end of Ragnarok.

Loki waved his hand, creating a doppleganger with practiced ease, turning his back on it and the golden city of Asgard as he spoke his final words.

"Keep him occupied."