Warning this chapter guys for graphic depictions of violence and rape/noncon
Chapter 3:
It's been two months since he's moved out of Thor's apartment and in with Thanos, and Loki is beginning to feel restless.
Beginning to wonder if he hasn't made a mistake.
It isn't any one thing in particular, really. Just…lately, it feels like there's a kind of tension between him and Thanos which wasn't there in the beginning.
And Thanos hasn't been talking to him as much as he used to either. Has been snapping at him, yelling even and stepping towards him almost threateningly. Though he hasn't at all hit him.
Loki worries maybe his boyfriend is losing interest in him. That he's growing bored with him even.
He's tried his damndest though, he really has. He's been more accommodating in this relationship than he has in any other, short as that list is.
If he's being honest with himself, Loki's only really had one other, semi-serious relationship outside of Thanos.
And maybe that's the problem. Maybe he's screwing it up just from simple lack of experience.
Maybe he just needs to try harder.
Thanos is… he's just so smart, and so good looking, and Loki knows well he's lucky to have him. Knows that Thanos could have literally any guy, or girl for that matter, if he so chose.
The issue's got to be coming from his end, Loki's sure.
These thoughts running through his head, he comes walking out of their shared bedroom, and hears the television on, playing another of those mind numbing rugby games Thanos is so fond of.
He struggles and fails not to roll his eyes as he moves down the hallway, shoving his frustration away as he makes his way into the living room, where he sees his boyfriend parked in front of the TV, staring intently at the screen.
"Calm, Loki." He thinks to himself. "Stay calm."
If he's going to convince Thanos that they should go out tonight and actually do something together, he's going to have to use his charm.
Getting angry never works. Thanos just stares at him with this awful, blank expression when he does, saying nothing.
There's something terrifying in that, Loki thinks dismally. Just how almost… dead Thanos' eyes get. Like he isn't even there.
Breathing in deeply, his shakes his hands out, unsure of why he feels so suddenly nervous, forcing himself to move forward.
"Hey handsome man." He starts as he comes round where Thanos sits.
He ignores the niggling apprehension tugging at his belly, dismissing it as ridiculous.
And to prove such to himself, he pushes through it, draping himself suddenly, invasively across Thanos' lap, hooking his arms around the larger man's neck, pulling himself up to plant a sloppy kiss against his lips.
When finally he pulls back, he's got a giant grin plastered across his face, intending to seduce his boyfriend and make him laugh.
And so his heart sinks, and he's abruptly, unpleasantly bemused when he finds Thanos' eyes still fixated on the television screen, features utterly unchanged from their previously, passive shape.
He doesn't even move to take hold of Loki in his arms, didn't even try to kiss back, didn't even crack a smile.
Loki frowns, the familiar flare of his temper threatening low in his gut.
Fuck, what's it take?!
"Thanos," he begins, struggling to keep his voice calm and cheery. "darling, I was thinking we could go out tonight?"
"I'm watching the game." Finally Thanos responds, though it isn't at all what Loki wants to hear, his gaze still fixed forward.
Loki's teeth clench, again forcing himself to swallow his knee jerk reaction of frustration and disgust.
Instead, he puts on a pout, batting his lashes and burying his face against his boyfriend's broad chest.
"Oh come ooooon." He whines petulantly, kicking his feet where they hang over the chair's arm. "Darling, we haven't been out in over a week, and I'm starting to get bored. We could do anything. Anything you like. Go to a movie, go out to dinner at some really fancy restaurant, go dancing…"
At last, Thanos peels his eyes from the game, glaring down at Loki with calculating regard.
Loki grins back at him, and again, he chooses to ignore the uneasy feeling uncurling at the back of his mind. His heart beats uncomfortably against his ribcage, and he finds himself swallowing thickly at the look upon his boyfriend's face.
It melts away in an instant when blessedly, Thanos smiles back at him, massive hand coming up and ruffling Loki's hair.
Loki fucking hates it when he does that. When Thanos treats him like some little kid. But he's willing to let it go for now, if he can just get something actually fun going here.
"How about we meet up with my boys?" Thanos asks, though his tone tells Loki it isn't really a question. "They've got some new product. Really fine grade stuff. Though you might want to test it out for me baby."
And just like that, Loki's relief dies an instant death.
Thanos' boys, as he likes to call them. Otherwise known as the Chitauri gang. And what kind of fucking stupid name is that?
Nothing but a bunch of world class douche bag hooligans.
Every time Loki has to spend any time around them at all, afterwards he feels s somehow sickeningly unclean. Like an hour long shower would do nothing to put a dent in the filth they've managed to rub off on him.
And he hasn't said anything to Thanos, because he knows it would probably upset him, but whenever Thanos isn't looking, whenever he's stepped out of the room or turned his back, the son's of bitches actually have the nerve to put their hands on him. Grabbing his ass, grabbing his crotch through his pants, leaning in and sucking at his neck.
And then there's the things they say to him, pressing their filthy lips against the shell of his ear and calling him faggot and cunt and whore.
It's sexual harassment, and under any other circumstances, Loki would tell them to go fuck themselves.
Only they're Thanos' friends, and there's something keeping Loki from doing it. Some awful feeling he gets every time he feels himself ready to snap back and give the bastards a taste of their own medicine.
Just something that tells him it's a bad idea…
And then there's the drugs.
Loki's been trying to stay off the stuff.
Ever since he got arrested for that ridiculous stunt he'd pulled, and started seeing Dr. Banner. Ever since moving in with Thor, really.
He's been clean, and he's wanted to keep it that way.
He doesn't like what the drugs do to him. The way they make him even more paranoid and anxious and constantly jacked up, needing the next fix. Doesn't like how vulnerable they made him, truthfully.
And he can admit that now, looking back on it.
He'd had more than one sexual encounter while high as a fucking kite which he'd deeply regretted the next morning, feeling almost… well, not just almost, feeling truly violated and taken advantage of.
He'd gone through hell kicking the habit, once he could acknowledge that the things he was doing while high, well, they weren't so much things he was doing, but things being done to him.
And yet here Thanos was, trying his hardest, it seemed, to get Loki hooked right back on, despite Loki telling him repeatedly and often that he wanted no part in it. Thanos could do all the dope and coke he wanted. Loki wasn't telling him he couldn't. But that he kept, purposefully, disrespecting Loki's own choices…
He can't repress his mounting anger suddenly, the emotion surging like a fire to the front of his mind, and suddenly he snaps.
"I don't want to see those assholes Thanos." He says cuttingly, brow furrowed in clear distain. "Your friends are nothing but a bunch of crude, disgusting brutes."
Loki braces for what he's sure is going to be a furious reaction, feeling himself tense.
Thanos has been raising his voice to him lately, and Loki would be lying if he said it didn't scare him half to death. He's got a voice easily as big as Thor's, or Odin's. One that seems to shake the room every time he lets it loose.
Only Thor never turned that voice on him. Thor was his champion. His best friend and brother. Loki only ever saw him as almost a big teddy bear. One that would protect him always. And Odin was his father. Angry as he would become sometimes, as much as he would yell, Loki knew Odin would never actually hurt him.
He didn't feel any such reassurance when Thanos would scream at him. None at all.
He isn't prepared then when his boyfriend simply smirks at him, dismissive and mocking.
"Oh, my poor, pampered little doll." He taunts, patting Loki's cheek. "You've got some big talk, don't you? But when it comes to hanging with the big boys, you fold like a fuckin' accordion, don't you?"
That was it!
In an instant, Loki's anger rages into an uncontrollable fury, his fact twisting with it.
"You know what," he starts, unhooking his arms from Thanos' neck. "fuck you!" He spits, leveraging himself up off of the larger man's lap and getting to his feet. "You and those scum bags deserve each other. If that's who you want to spend your time with, then far be it from me to try and stop you."
He begins to walk away, fully intending to lock himself in the bedroom for the rest of the night, and Thanos can sleep on the fucking couch for all he cares.
He doesn't make it more than two steps before he feels a vice like grip close over his wrist, painfully, crushingly hard.
A half-strangled cry slips past Loki's lips. And then suddenly he's being jerked backwards with enough force that he feels his feet slip out from under him, and then he's falling, crashing down onto his back.
The back of his head collides mercilessly with the hardwood floor, and momentarily he's rendered stunned, the world spinning fast around him.
His vision hasn't even begun to clear before he sees a large mass shift over him, and all at once, there is an incredible weight pressing down against his own frame, an awful pressure against his chest.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is bad. That he has to get out from under whatever this is. And he feels his hands groping at the floor, trying to find purchase, to find someway to pick himself back up.
He's allowed the attempt only a moment, as in the next, he once more feels the brutal clamp of thick hands round his wrists, and suddenly his arms are being stretched out above his head and pinned mercilessly down.
Pain ratchets cruelly from his wrists, down into his forearms, and he feels the abrupt, consuming fear that his bones will snap, the pressure too much.
He hears a weak whine, and realizes only a second after that it's him.
"You privileged little shit!" Thanos hisses above him, lifting Loki's hands and slamming them back, hard, against the ground. The impact rattles down into Loki's shoulders, the strain worse upon his joints.
Another, humiliating whimper slips from his throat, and he tries desperately then, with every ounce of strength he has, to pull free of Thanos' hold.
But the attempt is useless. He can't begin to lift his wrists from the floor even a fraction of an inch, and he only feels Thanos' grip tighten threateningly with the effort.
The pressure on his chest, Loki realizes then, is Thanos' knee, digging hard into his sternum and stealing the breath from his lungs as the larger man puts more weight onto it.
Fear is like a lance through his insides, drowning him as he realizes how truly trapped he is.
It's made only worse as he feels Thanos' other knee move up, nudging between his thighs and forcing his legs farther apart, pressing into his groin and shifting in some crude attempt at stimulation.
Tears build instantly and rapid in Loki's eyes, and all he can do is turn his face away, clamping his lids shut.
This can't be happening…
This can't be…
"You think you can call me names!?" Thanos roars in his face, breath hot and unyielding against Loki's skin. "Think you can tell me what to do!?"
Again he picks Loki's arms up and slams them back down, and another, pitiful whimper breaks past his teeth.
"I've had just about enough of your haughty, holier than though attitude, you fucking faggot twink! You think you're better than me, just cause you come from some rich, upper class background!?"
Loki shakes his head desperately, unable to keep the tears from slipping past his still clamped lids, sliding into his hair.
He doesn't think that. He's never thought that. Oh God…
Abruptly he feels the pressure on his left wrist release, but he's given barely an instant to realize it before pain explodes through his lower jaw, radiating like hot knives through the rest of his face and into the back of his skull.
His visions whites out behind his lids, and there's a sudden, loud ringing in his ears and the taste of metal in his mouth.
And then it happens again, across the other half of his face.
Loki panics.
"STOP!" He cries. "S-STOP!"
His voice is wet and weak to his own ears.
It does nothing to spare him.
Again and again, Thanos hits him, until nausea and pain mix together unrelentingly, the blood pouring down Loki's throat threatening to make bile rise back up it.
He tries lifting his one free hand in defense, but Thanos only swats it away like it's nothing and continues his assault.
Until any strength, any fight Loki might have had in him dies away to nothing, and all he can do is try and turn away from the blows, useless as it is.
By the time it stops, the ringing in his ears is a constant buzz, and his eyes are swollen nearly shut, blood pouring warm and sticky down his brow, into his vision, the taste of it sick and hot against his tongue and the backs of his teeth.
The pain is unending, both a sharp and dull ache, spreading through the muscles of his face, reaching its claws back into his skull, his head already pounding in a vicious migraine headache.
Over the ringing, he can hear himself, sobbing and whimpering pathetically, and he hates himself so much in that moment, he thinks he might die from it.
"If you EVER talk that way to me again…" Thanos starts, voice a hideous growl. And Loki feels his hand close over his throat, squeezing tight enough to threaten his air. "I'll fucking kill you. You hear me, you little cunt?!"
Loki nods frantically, tears still streaming from his closing eyes.
"ANSWER ME!" Thanos roars.
"Y-yes… yes!" Loki cries, terrified.
"Hmm. Now, look at me and tell me you're sorry." He breathes against Loki's face, smirk evident in his voice.
And it takes every ounce of his will for Loki to open his eyes and turn them up to the man above him, staring back at him dazed and terrorized.
He doesn't recognize this man. He doesn't know who he is.
"I-I-I'm ss-sorry. I'm sss-s-sorry." He stammers.
Thanos grins.
"Good." He says, and Loki feels the knee between his legs press firmer into his groin, Thanos' hands moving suddenly down to the waistband of his pants, beginning to undo the button and zipper.
And somehow Loki's horror grows a hundredfold in a matter of seconds, as it dawns on him what's about to happen.
"N-no…" he whines, begging. "No…"
"Now, now, little love, let's not be that way." Thanos says, and he's jerking Loki's pants down violently then, lifting him up off the floor and pulling them past his butt, past his hips, taking his underwear as he goes. "After the shit you just put me through, I think it's only reasonable you make it up to me this way."
Loki's shaking his head in desperate denial. Can hear himself begging over and over for Thanos to stop, to not do this. Feels himself pushing weakly against the massive shoulders above him.
It's pointless.
There is no stopping this. There's nothing he can do.
He isn't strong enough.
He isn't strong enough to do anything…
Thor practically launches himself from his seat as he hears the light knock on the front door, rushing forward and undoing the latch without even bothering to check through the peep hole, throwing the door wide.
His Mother is standing there, and a wave of such powerful relief washes through him, he can feel his entire body deflate with it, stepping forward and throwing him arms about her tiny frame, pulling her to him in a fierce hug.
She hugs him back just as determinedly, pressing her face to his shoulder.
For long minutes they stand there, just clinging to each other, sharing equally in relief and despair, until finally Thor feels his Mother pulling back, her arms loosening, and he takes that as his cue to follow.
As he does, she takes hold of his hands, her own dwarfed in his, staring up at him with a naked urgency.
"Where is he?" She asks. "Is he safe?"
Thor nods, feeling his chest constrict at the worry in her voice.
She's always worried so much about Loki.
He remembers when they were younger, Loki especially, and Mother had always used to take Thor aside and give him quiet and firm instructions to keep his brother safe. To look out for him and not let him wander off. To take care of him.
Even when Loki had grown up enough to, most would say, take care of himself, Mother had known Loki was fragile. That even then, he would need help. Maybe would always need help. And she'd relied on Thor to provide that when she herself couldn't.
"He's still sleeping in my room." He tells her. "I cleaned up his cuts and stuff as best I could, helped him take a bath and got him into some fresh pajamas. He was pretty exhausted… after everything…"
He hesitates, voice trailing off.
He doesn't know how much he should tell her. How much Loki would be okay with him telling her.
Loki's always been so proud. He knows it would devastate his brother, for Mom to hear that he'd been… been violated the way he had been.
It was going to be bad enough for him, Mom knowing he'd been physically abused and beaten up.
That didn't change the fact that Mom should know, or that she was likely to find out eventually anyway.
Only, Thor thinks, he should probably wait for Loki to reveal it to her himself. He should allow his brother what pride he has left, little though it may be.
Frigga nods, clasping his hands more tightly.
"We should let him rest then." She says. "May I come in?"
"Oh! O-of course!" Thor stammers, feeling suddenly like an ass, keeping his Mother waiting out in the hallway like that. "Come in."
He steps aside and allows her through, closing and locking the door behind her.
"I'll just make some coffee." He says, staring towards the kitchen.
She follows him there, her movements elegant and precise as ever as she seats herself in exactly the same spot Loki had earlier occupied.
Adopted or not, Loki has always resembled their Mother in the most uncanny of ways, Thor thinks, as he scoops the already ground coffee into the filter, moving to the sink after and filling the pot with water.
His Mother waits until he has the machine brewing and has sat himself down in the seat opposite her own before she begins speaking.
"Tell me what happened." She says, softly demanding, her eyes focused intently on him.
Thor sighs, hands folded atop the table, staring down at them.
It takes him a moment to gather himself, and Mother, as ever, is the epitome of patience, allowing him that time.
Finally, he finds himself able to speak, lifting his eyes to her.
"He was here already when I got home from the office tonight." He begins, slowly. "He still has his key, apparently." He shakes his head, dreading to think of what might have happened had Loki failed to keep it, or if Thor had indeed gotten the locks changed for whatever reason in the last year. Where would Loki have gone? What would he have done? Surely not go back to Thanos, but…
He pulls his mind from the thoughts, forcing himself back on track.
"I found him in the kitchen here, smoking out there on the balcony. It was dark, he hadn't turned any lights on, and I didn't think anything of it. I didn't even realize anything was wrong until I flipped the switch on and saw his face."
Here, Thor finds himself having to swallow, feeling the mix of rage and fear he'd earlier experienced leap again to his throat.
"He tried to hide it from me, tried to hide his face. Mom, he was so scared. I don't… I don't think I've ever seen him that scared in my life. I got pissed, wanted to go over to that bastard's place and beat the hell out of him, but Loki was just so afraid. He begged me to stay, started crying and telling me… telling me he'd barely gotten away. Mom, it…"
Thor shakes his head again, feeling the sting of tears at the backs of his eyes, flashes of Loki's naked body erupting through his mind. The horrible, beaten state of him, and…
"This has been going on for a while, I think." He continues, voice thin. "Something Loki said, about barely getting away this time. I think that bastard's been hurting him since the start and Loki just… he didn't know how to get away."
For long moments, Frigga sits, still and silent, saying nothing.
Her eyes are cast down, fixed on the table, hands folded the same as Thor's across the surface.
He can make out the very slight tremble through them, and he knows she's struggling to keep herself composed.
"Oh," she finally starts. "oh, I should have never let him run off like that. I should have fought harder to keep him away from that man."
"Mom, it isn't your fault." Thor tries to reassure her, reaching out and laying a hand over her own. "You know how Loki is, when he sets his mind to something. There's no convincing him otherwise."
"I know," Frigga says, her voice tearful. "I know, but I… I should have tried harder. I knew that man was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on him. I knew he was dangerous. And then Loki stopped calling me, stopped calling you, and I knew something awful had happened. I just… I was afraid by pushing him, he would do the exact opposite. And he did it anyway."
Thor's eyes slide away from her, mouth pulling into a deep frown.
That was true. Loki had a tendency to go against the grain just for the sake of it alone. He was the real rebel in the family. Neither of them had really known how much to push when Loki had first introduced Thanos to them, and when a few months later, he'd announced his intention to live with him. They'd all been opposed to it. All known it was a disaster waiting to happen. And they'd told Loki as much. But they'd been afraid to tell him what he could and couldn't do, knowing he would only take it as a kind of insult almost, be affronted by it and think of it as them trying to control him.
Father hadn't had any such misgivings, telling Loki bluntly and plainly what he thought, and maybe that had been the final straw. The thing that had really pushed Loki into taking the plunge.
"What did Dad say?" Thor asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Mother shakes her head, wiping discreetly at her eyes.
"He wanted to come over here, of course. He'll never admit it to you aloud, but he's been just as worried about Loki. I told him it wasn't a good idea. Not right now. But I suspect we won't be able to keep him away forever. He was extremely upset when he heard."
Thor nods.
Of course they wouldn't be able to keep Dad out of it. And Odin had as much a right to know what was going on as Mom did. But for now, she was right. Father being here would only upset Loki more.
Dad seeing Loki like this, it would destroy what little pride Loki had left, Thor was certain.
His brother had always wanted more than anything to make the old man proud.
He hears the coffee machine's brewing peter out, and stands, moving towards it, retrieving two mugs from the cabinets along the way.
"Do you want to move to the living room?" He asks as he pours the coffee into the cups, glancing at his Mother. "It'll probably be more comfortable there."
Frigga gives a shallow nod, pushing herself to her feet.
"Alright." She agrees.
They move together, silently then, over towards the ratty old couch, Thor still struggling in his mind, wanting desperately to tell Mom just how bad Loki's situation's really been, terrified in the same instant to say anything at all.
/
AN: As always, massive thank you's to all my readers and reviewers! Your support means everything to me and helps me to continue on writing! Please let me know your thoughts if you get a chance!