Disclaimer||Obviously, I don't own anything. Frankly, I don't want to. Everything Marvel has done with this so far has been perfection.

A/N: Personally, I am not very well informed with all of the Sciences of Asgard, and the names, and the traditions, so I improvised.

-Please excuse any grammatical errors.

-Please review, it would make my day!


It was startlingly, for Sif, to have seen Thor and Loki so close, their arms about one another, their bodies leaning, pressing forward.

It made her unconditionally angry, and that rage burned like a raging fire in her veins. But she swallowed those feelings down whole, and with a swish of a black ponytail and clanking of armor she took a determined step forward. The Warriors three and four guards stood back some, leaving Sif to try and make this as diplomatic as possible.

"Thor." She started, eyes shifting warily to Loki. "Please step away from him." Thor never was one to listen and Sif almost gaze a heated groan of irritation when he all but stepped between Loki and her.

"He's changed, Sif. He's the Loki we once knew." She couldn't help the sarcastic laugh at that, hand tightening some on the handle of her spear. She could hear Fandral snicker in disbelief behind her.

"He truly has bewitched you, if you are spotting such nonsense!" The anger was there in her voice now, spiteful and cruel, and her dark eyes bore into Loki's green ones.

"I do not expect you to understand immediately," Thor began, taking a small step forward, "But if you would just let-"

"Enough!" She shouted, her words breaking off in a sort hysteric chuckle. "Enough of this foolery." She scoffed, spear raising some, further up. "Please Thor, step aside, we do not wish to fight you." And upon her words the gods behind her all raised their weapons, all held them high and Thor had never felt so betrayed. His eyes searched his friend's faces helplessly, but no one seemed fond of believing.

"It seems you may not have the option." Thor roared, and, because the portal between two worlds still remained open, he held out his hand to the skies and felt the overall upcoming rush of battle when the lightening cracked and Mjolnir was a heavy, familiar weight in his hands.

His armor still remained in the house, along besides Loki's, and he desperately wished to have them now. But this wasn't like when he was banished, when his armor reappeared because he had unlocked it again. This time he had always had his power, and he was hopelessly unprotected. He gave a snarl, hating every moment of this. He felt Loki's hand, a comforting pressure against his arm and he turned to look back at him.

"We are outnumbered, and I am afraid I will not be of much help. My magic has yet to return fully to me. Thor," And he spoke this last part urgently, "We must go."

"We can't just run away-"

"We must." Thor stared into Loki's eyes, wide and demanding, and he gave a frustrated snarl before raising Mjolnir into the skies once more.

"Than I will at least make a suitable distraction." The lightening crashed down with Thor's arm, and the booming light and upturning of the earth blinded the Asgardians before them. The field before them was being destroyed, and Thor felt the guilt at having done so heavy in his chest.

"Forgive me, my friends." He whispered, before he wrapped his arm about Loki's slender waist, pulled him close, and, swinging Mjolnir to get the proper friction, he took them up, over the trees and away from the lightening chaos. They crashed in the cornfield, miles up from where they were, and Thor grasped Loki tight as they tumbled against the green stalks.

Dirt covered their skin and blotted their hair and Loki stumbled to his feet, his head pounding, but he took Thor's arm and pulled him up. Staggering, they ran fast, quickly up to Archie's farmhouse and burst through the screen door. They needed their armor, and that was all. They had no time for goodbyes.

But they almost knocked Archie over on their way in, and the old man looked older beyond his years. In his hands he held a green duffle bag, one that he seemed to be struggling with, and Thor took it from his arms gently.

"Your clothes." Archie explained, smiling softly up at the dirt-covered gods. "I had a feelin' you boys would be leaving today. Too soon in my opinion but," He shrugged his bony shoulders, "Well, I had a lovely week." Thor felt his throat tighten, his eyes prick and he gave a generous smile before patting Archie thankfully on the shoulder.

"We shall always be grateful of your services." But they had to go; the lightening had ceased its call. Loki stepped forward, eyeing Archie with a thoughtful sadness, before he smiled his simple thanks and departed out the door with Thor. Loki cast one last fleeting glance to the farmhouse, to the white wood, to Archie standing small in the doorway.

He would be lying if he said he wouldn't miss it. But Thor was pulling him close again, and he wrapped his arms instinctively about his neck, before with a startlingly jolt they were up again and rushing away.

The wind roared in their ears and Loki buried his face into Thor's neck, his grip tightening. Thor held the duffle bag in his other hand, the weight of their armor reassuring, and they only stopped to land when the sun was beginning to sink down once more against the velvet violet sky. They stood on the outskirts of a simple motel, one that held a flickering neon sign and sagging letters. Thor took the duffle bag and opened it up, brushing his fingers against the course fabric of their clothes. And he spotted something else, paper; it seemed wedged into one of the many inner pockets. Warily he pulled it out and felt his heart ache.

"What is it?" Loki questioned, stepping forward to peer into the casing.

"Money." Thor croaked, biting his lip in preannounced sadness. "I will miss him." He concluded, tucking Mjolnir into the bag along with their armor and zipping it up again. Loki didn't respond as they approached the motel, both unsure exactly how one was supposed to sign in but found it simple enough once they were inside. It had grown dark quickly, and Loki sat himself tiredly on the small bed in their room. The springs creaked some beneath his weight and he was just thankful that he looked Midgardian, covered in dirt and grime.

No one had recognized them yet. In truth he had almost forgotten what hiding away felt like. Thor was pacing about the room, he couldn't seem to sit still, and as the moon rose luminous and tall above the trees Loki couldn't help the stirrings of annoyance in his chest.

"Must you do that?" He snapped, slightly harsher than he had meant, but Thor didn't cease his quickened steps. It looked as though the thunderer was struggling with something, and when his pace grew more frantic Loki stood, vexed, and crossed his arms demanding over his chest.

"Thor-"

"What would I have done?" Thor's voice was broken, just above a whisper, and the sudden question made Loki falter in his command that Thor stop his infernal pacing. Loki blinked, watching as Thor's steps grew agitated.

"I do not understand." Thor ran a large hand through the tangles in his hair, and to Loki's dismay his eyes were hidden by shadows.

"What would I have done in the field…if we were uninterrupted?" Loki's heart froze, his blood rushed to his face. He slowly uncrossed his arms, and sat himself slowly down upon the bed.

"I am not responsible for you actions." He decided on saying and that seemed to upset Thor all the more, because he turned jarringly to a halt to stand before Loki. His countenance looked strained.

"What would we have done, if we were not interrupted?" His voice was more pressing, more urgent, and Loki felt cornered. He hated it.

"I do not know." He decided on saying, because he really couldn't stand the position Thor was placing him in. Thor decided he didn't like that answer, and instead he leaned forward, hands on either side of Loki's hips. The smaller god felt his heart skip a beat at Thor's closeness, at the burning in his eyes. He felt frozen in place.

"Would it have been wrong, Loki?" He whispered, and his breath was sweet and heavy across Loki's face. Something about those words made Loki's heart shake. He swallowed.

"No." He whispered, voice rough and dry, and pleading. "No." He repeated again, because he felt the need to say it twice more. Something in Thor seemed to click into place, then, seemed to charge some sort of change, because before Loki could expand on the grounds of why this wasn't wrong, on how the only thing wrong about this situation was that he was a fugitive destined to die, Thor had leaned forward and had gently, oh so gently, pressed his lips against Loki's. It was chaste, kiss, soft and testing, and when Thor pulled back he seemed slightly elevated, unbelieving at the jolt of fire such a simple kiss could bring. Loki's hands were shaking, from eagerness or excitement he was unsure, but he raised them nonetheless to hold Thor's face.

It seemed the breath was knocked from them; they had no words to say. But Loki regained his footing, even out his thundering heart. Gingerly, he smiled.

"Over the years of my life Thor, you are the only one who has ever loved me."

The air changed then, turned slightly more erratic and when Thor leaned down again the kiss was more expected, more forthcoming and urgent. And this time Loki had the chance to press back, to return the kiss, and, experimentally, their lips moved against each other's. This kiss was different than the one Thor had shared with Jane. With her it was desperation, and pleading hope, but with Loki it was something more, it was something true, something loving, something strong.

Loki's lips were soft and precise in their movements, and Loki's fingers soon found themselves threaded into Thor's hair as the kiss grew more passionate, more urgent, and Thor slowly began to press Loki back against the itchy motel duvet. Their breaths grew shortened, their heart rates spiked, and Thor's hands held a bruising grip on Loki's waist, holding him firmly against him and in place. Loki let out a soft whimper at the friction their bodies caused, the way Thor's lips parted and his tongue made its way into Loki's mouth. It had been a while, Loki decided, since he had felt this alive, and, moving against Thor, breathing him in, tasting him was…overwhelming.

Gently, he placed his hands on Thor's chest and pushed him back.

Their lips disconnected and Thor sat back, breathing heavily, pupils blown wide, pulse rate accelerated. His cheeks were flushed, and he delicately wiped a strand of raven hair off Loki's face. Loki's cheeks were dusted pink, the color working brilliantly with his eyes and Thor wanted nothing more than to kiss his swollen lips again. But he couldn't push his luck. Loki was still healing; he didn't want to shatter that process.

"Forgive me, Thor, but I can't-"

"It's all right." Thor urged, leaning up and off of Loki. Already he missed his warmth. Loki's eyes followed him warily, and when Thor kicked off his boots and shirt, and crawled beside Loki in the bed once more, Loki seemed to visibly relax. Immediately Thor pulled him close, listened as his heart rate steadied, and held him long after the sun had come up the next morning.


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