Disclaimer: I don't own. I don't profit.

This chapter is unbeta'd. And it's the most filthy, awful thing I've ever written. But based on an experience of a friend of mine who was feeling "hard-up". Pun intended.

Fandral

The arrow is flying straight to his forehead, and Loki can't move. He is frozen in place, not literally, that would be almost excusable. No, he is just petrified with fear. Or something. And now he is going to die, during the first salvo of his very first battle.

Its happening so fast he can't even be really afraid. But strangely, not fast enough that he isn't embarrassed.

There is a blur of gray and red and gold. A loud thwack. And then Thor is grappling him to the ground. Pulling Loki up as the rain of arrows ends, Thor says brusquely. "It happens to everyone the first time little brother. Now redeem yourself."

Loki does redeem himself. And Odin's forces win a decisive victory.

x x x x

20 hours later after a bloody senseless battle with the dwarfs, debriefings with generals, meetings with the troops, and tours of the wounded, Loki is in his and Thor's tent climbing out of the bath. The blood, sweat, dirt, and other dubious substances are gone from his skin. But despite his most valiant efforts, no matter how he scrubs he can't wash away the anger.

Toweling himself off, he slips on some breeches. And then he begins to pace. His thoughts slip to Sif walking among the troops, her lean frame slipping between the lines of men, ponytail bouncing behind her.

His jaw tenses. He wants to fuck. Loki closes his eyes. He'd left Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three to their own amusements. Seeing Sif standing so close to Thor, who just seemed so oblivious had made his blood go hot. Sif is Thor's intended, the union arranged by their families years ago now. And he admires Sif, she is one of the two women besides his mother he admires most in all of Asgard. He has no right to think of her thus. But he does.

He wipes his face with his hand. Jealousy is unbecoming, especially towards the man who is his brother and who just saved his life.

He looks down at himself, his state of semi-arousal visible through his trousers. It's not like he needs love or someone he admires right now anyway...just a fuck even would be...he shakes his wet hair. Something. A vent. A release of all the anger at this stupid battle, for this stupid strip of land and the greedy dwarves who had been their foes.

He lets out a long sigh of exasperation. He looks around the tent. Maybe while he is alone...

A guard slips into the tent. "Your Majesty. A visitor. Lord Fandral."

Loki's of half a mind to dismiss him, but instead says, "Let him in." It could be official business.

Fandral enters the tent, and turns immediately to the guard. "Privacy please. This is official business."

Loki tilts his head. The guard exits and draws the tent flap shut. The tent is enchanted, whatever Fandral says to Loki will be unheard. It is an excellent spell when one fears spies; it was cast by Odin himself. Loki wonders if he'll ever be so gifted.

"What is it?" Loki says, his voice coming out a snarl, though he doesn't mean it to be so.

Fandral begins walking towards him. He's bathed, his beard and hair are golden again, free of the blood that had been dried into them earlier.

"Keyed up a bit your Majesty?" Fandral says.

Loki tilts his head.

Fandral keeps coming forward until he is less than an arms reach away. "Do you feel battle lust, My Lord?"

Loki glares at him and feels his nostrils flare.

Fandral smiles. "I know you are inexperienced in these matters, but your Highness, in times like this when there are no women about, it is not unheard of for warriors to assist each other."

Loki rolls his eyes. He may not have experience in such things, but he's heard of such things. Normally he hears them with slight revulsion. And Fandral, even though he has just bathed, s so hairy, he smells like a man, and he's all sinew, muscle and hard angles.

But Loki is so angry and more.

"What are you proposing?" Loki says his voice low.

Smiling, Fandral picks up his hand. Kissing it, eyes on Loki, he says, "Anything your majesty wishes." Placing another kiss on Loki's hand he says, "You are so, very, very, beautiful."

The hairs on the back of Loki's neck rise. Fandral is treating him like the woman. Loki tenses. He knows what Fandral wants to propose.

It may not be a shame to give another warrior a 'helping hand', but to be the woman - that is the highest shame imaginable. And why until recently Asgard's warriors would routinely rape their vanquished foes before castrating them.

That Fandral would think Loki would want to spread his legs for him...it's beyond being repulsive, it is the ultimate insult. He wants to punch Fandral in the face. Or fuck - but someone else. He thinks of Sif and pretty, blonde headed Glut.

Both far away and unreachable. He closes his eyes. His fists clench.

And then a wicked scheme forms in Loki's mind. Smirking he says, "His Majesty would have you on your knees."

Fandral shrugs and smiles good naturedly. "Of course." He leans forward to plant a kiss on Loki's lips but Loki turns away and holds up a hand. "Just...just...get to it."

Shrugging again Fandral starts to place kisses down Loki's still bare chest.

Think of Glut. Think of Glut. Loki peeks down at Fandral's descending head and closes his eyes again.

Think of pretty blonde haired Glut.

Not of beards.

Glut. Glut. Glut.

Fandral's lips reach the lightly rippled plains of Loki's abdomen. He pauses his kisses to admire. Loki's waist is nearly slender as a womans, even if he is more muscular. Fandral gazes up at the young prince. Right now Loki's head is lifted up towards the ceiling, and all he can see is the underside of his fine boned chin. But it is of no consequence, Fandral knows Loki's face by heart, Loki's face is nearly are as slender and delicate as woman's too. And his whole body is nearly as hairless. Truly, Loki is next best thing to a woman. With a sigh, Fandral applies his lips once more to Loki's stomach, and imagines Loki naked, legs spread before him.

He hears a strangled noise from Loki's throat. It sounds almost like Glut. For a minute it gives Fandral pause. But of course, the young prince obviously just swallowed audibly in his excitement.

He proceeds with his ministrations, kissing Loki just below the navel in the light line of fine hair is just beginning to form there. The prince shivers.

Looking up, Fandral smiles. "My whiskers tickling you Your Majesty?"

Eyes closed, Loki hisses. "Just get on with it!"

"Eager." Fandral laughs and undoes Loki's breeches. The prince is already semi-erect. Fandral takes him in his hand, and then pulls him into his mouth. Fandral sucks greedily, and for a moment Loki hardens, but then he returns to his state of his semi-arousal. Fandral sucks harder. And softer. And he hums. He tries to pull Loki in deeply, he tries applying his tongue to the underside of Loki's shaft. His jaw is starting to hurt when he begins to get desperate. Thinking he know what will work he tries to put a hand up to Loki's ass, and gets it slapped painfully hard for his efforts.

Fandral pulls back. "Your Majesty?"

Rubbing his eyes, Loki says, "It's no use. I tried applying a spell to the South Granary to keep the rodents away and I know I messed it up."

Fandral's brow furrows. "Your Majesty!" That...that...is what Loki was thinking about during all his valiant efforts? Fandral's mouth drops.

Fastening his breeches Loki says, "It was your fault!"

"My fault?" says Fandral, taken aback.

"Bringing up whiskers," says Loki glaring at him. "How could I not think of the rodent infestation of the South Granary?"

Fandral blinks at the prince. "You don't like sex." It comes out a statement rather than a question.

Loki tilts his head and gives Fandral a withering stare. "Of course I like sex."

Fandral blinks again. "You've had sex?"

"Yes!" says Loki.

Still kneeling, Fandral scratches behind his head. "With a woman?"

Loki takes a step forward. His voice comes out a low hiss. "Why wouldn't it be with a woman?"

Fandral tilts his head. "Well, you like magic, and it's...argr..." he says using the Norse word for unmanly.

Loki's eyes go wide. "As does my father Odin! Are you accusing him of being argr?"

Seeing a possible impending death sentence, Fandral holds up two hands. "No!"

Loki's eyes narrow. But his body relaxes a fraction.

Fandral blinks remembering Loki's strangled utterance. "With Glut?" Glut is Volstagg's pretty, young, bookish daughter. She has a lightening sharp tongue and clever wit. Volstagg fear's she'll never be married for both of them.

Loki's face reddens. "No, no, not with Glut. She is...she..she is one of the two women I admire most in all of Asgard...but her station...my parents...we'd never be allowed to marry." He swallows and tucks his chin down towards his chest. "She deserves better."

Fandral tilts his head. "Then who?"

Shrugging Loki says, "Skadi and Vord."

Fandral's brow furrows. "They're both -"

"Discreet," says Loki.

"I was going to say married," says Fandral.

Loki shrugs. "Hopelessly caught in unhappy arranged marriages. I like to think I help keep their marriages intact by supplying the affection they don't get from their husbands."

"Njörðr adores Skadi," says Fandral, more to himself. And she is so upright. Perhaps the prince is lying to him?

Loki doesn't seem to have heard him. Looking towards the ceiling of the tent he says, "And of course there is Freyja - she's...she's..." He grins. "Well, she's one of a kind. But even less interested in commitment than I am." He tilts his head as though embarrassed. "But what am I saying, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about."

"You had sex with Freyja?" says Fandral for the first time beginning to notice his knees are getting sore.

"You haven't?" says Loki.

Fandral's mouth drops open. He's saved from having to answer by the boom of Thor's voice behind him.

"Loki! Get out of here!"

Fandral's face goes red. Loki's face goes slack. "Thor, we were just...we...were...just..."

Fandral was just moments away from making Thor's darling younger brother into a woman. "I was fixing a rip in Loki's breechers," says Fandral quickly. He pats Loki's leg. "All done now."

He moves to stand, but Thor's voice booms again. "Stay where you are."

Fandral swallows.

Loki gives him an apologizing look. And then Thor fixes his gaze on Loki and says, "Out!"

Loki runs from the tent without bothering to put on a shirt. And then he runs to the edge of the camp. Bending over he catches his breath.

And there it hits him.

Thor is going to kill Fandral. Loki tries reminding himself that Fandral wanted to bugger him. And then he swallows. Fandral didn't bugger him, and in fact, Loki had tried to use him in an awful way...which granted, didn't work, and yes, Fandral looked like he was actually enjoying himself...but...Loki straightens and looks towards the tent he shares with Thor. He can't let Thor kill Fandral.

Biting his lip he marches back. What if Thor has already done it? Loki's stomach falls. He starts to run again and only slows when he reaches the guards. Marching past them he slips through the flap of the tent and lets it fall behind him. He is immediately assaulted with the sound of skin slapping against skin. For a moment he thinks Thor has merely decided to beat Fandral. But then his eyes adjust to the dim light and he sees what is happening.

Thor is reclining on the bed, and Fandral is between his legs and...

Loki's eyes go wide and his mouth drops. They don't seem to have noticed him. Turning on his heel he walks out of the tent, carefully letting the flap fall behind him.

He looks guiltily at the guards. "They're discussing official business," Loki says needlessly.

The guards nod at him.

Loki stands between them not moving. And then he scowls. Maybe Loki should kill Fandral for dishonoring his brother. Loki's fists clench. He doesn't really want to do that...and couldn't Thor have easily killed Fandral himself? Thor must...Thor must want it.

Loki puts a hand to his chin. Maybe Thor is just desperate and curious like Loki had been? Thor's never struck Loki as particularly curious in most matters, but maybe being around Sif has addled his mind...and other things...and made him terribly desperate...desperate enough to play the woman's role.

Loki puts a hand to his brow. He doesn't think he'll ever get that image out of his brain.

At just that moment Sif chooses to turn the corner of the tent. "Loki, where is Thor?"

Loki straightens and swallows. "I don't know."

Sif's eyes narrow. "Is he in the tent?"

"No," says Loki holding up both hands. "No, no, no." Thankfully the guards don't even look sideways.

Loki doesn't know who he's protecting exactly, Thor, Fandral, Sif, or himself. Maybe he is just afraid of being labelled brother of someone who is argr?

Sif leans forward and presses her finger to Loki's naked chest. He sucks in a breath. Her finger is calloused, yes, but it is softer than Fandral's just the same. And she smells heavenly.

"You said you don't know where he is, but then you say he isn't in the tent. Which is it?"

Loki closes his eyes, afraid to keep them open, afraid he'll lean forward and do something terrible. Her lips are so close and he can imagine how soft they are. "I just came from the tent...he's not there." Opening his eyes he smiles and shrugs. "I was looking for him myself. Have you checked the canteen?"

Sif tilts her head. She doesn't look like she trusts him, but she says slowly. "It's true, battle does make him even more excessively hungry than usual."

Loki swallows. "Why don't you check there, and I'll check the baths."

Sif nods, gives him one last look, and sets off on her way, leaving the smell of soap and her in her wake.

Loki's jaw tenses and he runs his tongue over his teeth. He looks down at his breeches. He is right back to where he started.

Clenching his fists he heads off towards the baths. Maybe they'll be empty and he can take care of some official business on his own.

A/N:

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