lxiv. the-morning-after
Today, the morning is quiet. Loki is usually the one who attempts small talk, babbling to anyone who cared to listen, but that morning there is nothing save for a quiet sizzling, the sound of an egg being cracked into a pan. For this, Thor is grateful, sitting at the dining table with his head cradled in his hands. He wonders if hangovers will always be this bad.
He doesn't realize how hungry he is until Loki slides a plate of bacon and scrambled egg in front of him, steaming and smelling absolutely delectable. He digs in, and the food helps with the pounding in his head. Somewhat.
"Cold?" he comments through a mouthful of food. Loki isn't facing him, but Thor doesn't need a full frontal view to see that he's wearing a long sleeved shirt. Summer is ending and autumn is gradually taking its place, but it isn't that bad - not yet. Besides, Loki has always been the more resilient one towards the cold.
Loki's dark head bobs in a quick nod, and he mumbles something like "Yeah." He puts the spatula down on the edge of the sink and pauses in front of the stove. Heat emanates from the sleek black surface; he's forgotten to turn it off, but the warmth is vaguely comforting.
"Loki," Thor says, this time without as much food crammed in his mouth. "Loki," he repeats, brow creasing worriedly when his sibling fails to react. "Turn off the-"
Before he can finish, Loki's hand shoots out to click the dial back to 0.
This strange behavior isn't helping Thor's headache at all, but he knows he can't just ignore it. "Loki, what's going on?" he asks, but his younger brother thanks him for his concern by fleeing upstairs.
Thor doesn't have the willpower to drag himself to his feet and go after Loki, so he doesn't.
. . .
lxv. being fair
The following day, Thor comes home late from swim practice and finds an extra pair of shoes by the front door. "Who's over?" he asks their mother in the kitchen, running a hand through his damp hair.
"Balder," their mother replies. The smell of cooking eggs wafts throughout the kitchen, and it reminds Thor of the day before. (Except maybe it smelled a little better with Loki's - not that he would tell their mother that.) "He and Loki are working on a project."
Thor bristles at the thought of that boy in their house. He has half the mind to go up there and interrupt them, but Loki has always been gracious about not interrupting his makeout sessions with the various girlfriends he's brought home. So Thor decides not to, after all, and confines himself to the living room, watching some nameless show.
About an hour later, their mother announces dinner finished and calls the boys down. She asks Balder if he would like to stay, but he declines, claiming that some relatives are visiting and he's eating with them. Thor watches the disgustingly polite display, and then tries not to make a face when Balder smiles at Loki, and Loki smiles back, looking genuinely happy. It's almost like the time they first met each other, and Thor finally turns away. The sight is dredging up less-than-desirable feelings.
He hears the front door close and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thor," their mother calls, "are you coming?" and he rises from the couch, stomach grumbling.
Loki still sits next to him, and Thor remembers when they were younger, when he would nudge Loki's foot and Loki would nudge back and they would end up giggling and snorting over their food.
Tonight, their mother comments, "Balder is such a nice boy."
Loki shrugs, picking up his utensils. "I guess."
And Thor hates it, the way his brother looks on the verge of smiling, cheeks close to tinting pink. Knowing thathe wasn't the reason makes it worse; Thor's appetite goes sour and he spends the rest of the night playing with the food on his plate.
. . .
lxvi. marks
But Loki hasn't had a full conversation with him since yesterday now, and Thor is certain that his little brother his taken to avoiding him. The initial response is hurt - did I do something wrong why won't you just tell me I'll try to fix it - then anger - what have I ever done to you why are you so prone to being like this why why why - and finally, resignation: Maybe I should just apologize.
No, Thor still isn't clear about what exactly he has done to Loki. But he remembers an instance years ago and decides that he will not be complacent. Not again.
"Hey, Loki," he calls softly, coming up the stairs. Their parents have retired to their room and Thor has finally grown tired of the TV. (Nothing good anymore except some re-runs, anyway.)
Light is visible from underneath Loki's door, so Thor assumes he's still awake. He gives a faint knock on the door as a warning and then enters as quietly as he can. "Are you still up?"
Yes, Loki is, and he is standing in front of the mirror, one hand pulling his shirt up and revealing a waist marked by a gray...something.
Loki whirls around, yanking his shirt back down with wide eyes and a stammer of, "Th-Thor-"
Thor is across the room in four strides, one hand on Loki's wrist to still his hand and another bunching up the edge of his shirt, yanking it back up again, revealing the bruise tarnishing the pale, pure skin.
Anger flares inside of him, and he practically snarls, "What is this?" He gets it, Loki bruises easily, but why the hell would he, his little brother, have one on his waist - and one in the shape of a hand, nonetheless?
"Brother, please." Loki's free hand comes down on his forearm, squeezing, trying to get him to let go.
"What happened?" Thor tries to keep his voice down, for the door is still open and their parents could still overhear, but it's becoming harder and harder to control himself. The pieces start coming together; he reaches for the collar of Loki's shirt and, despite his brother's cry of protest, pulls that down, too.
There's another bruise there, already somewhat faded but intact enough for Thor to realize that it is a hickey. His little brother has a hickey.
"Who did this to you?" he demands roughly. Loki's eyes, struck with terror and bewilderment, lock with his.
Thor shakes him once, twice, growls again, "Who did this to you?" And in Loki's silence, a thought occurs to Thor: "Was it Balder? Is that what you were doing with him earlier? Your project? I don't know about you, Loki, but I've never had a project like that before." He's livid at this point, but also hurt and betrayed, because how dare Loki do that with someone like Balder, how dare he think he belonged to anyone else but Thor-
"Thor," Loki utters weakly. His hand has moved from his brother's arm to his chest, trying in vain to push the older away. "Please, stop, that hurts."
But everything did, right? Loki with such sensitive skin, to be coddled and protected because God forbid that his poor little brother should come into any harm. And if he did? Well, who else would there be to blame but Thor, his older brother, the one who's supposed to take care of him; who, if he failed in doing so, would be punished.
But this is too satisfying, having his brother helpless like this. He thinks he might have felt a twinge of this (sadistic? No, no-) pleasure before, but never has it been so prominent. Loki's wrist is like a twig in Thor's grip, could be broken with an easy motion.
"I'll tell Mother and Father," he threatens, words fueled by hate and anger and bitterness. "Jesus, Loki, you're twelve, what were you thinking?"
"It was you!" Loki cries out, and the exclamation startle Thor so much that he loosens his hold. Loki snatches his arm away, takes a step back.
The haze clears. A little. Not enough to stop Thor from wanting to reach out, to grab, to hurt- "What did you say?"
"It was you," Loki repeats. His eyes flicker to the door, as if expecting their parents to have awakened, but they are alone. His gaze moves somewhere else, flits to random spots in his room, but not at Thor. Never at Thor. "And yeah, I know I'm twelve," he says. His voice trembles, but he won't stop, no, this has been on his mind for far too long: "So what were you thinking?"
Thor goes rigid, and Loki's breath hitches. All confidence leaves his system in one exhale. Now I've done it, he thinks. He's going to get even madder and hurt me-
"Liar," Thor says breathlessly. He takes a step towards Loki. His fingers clench and unclench, itching to do something. "Don't you fucking dare say that."
"You came home drunk." Loki forces these words to roll off his tongue. "I- I was asleep, and you came in, and then you started... You..." He trails off, cheeks flared red, unable to continue. "Th-Then afterwards you...just left and when I went to check on you, you were asleep in your room. And in the morning, you said nothing about it, nothing at all, and I was confused, maybe you didn't remember, maybe you hated me now, I didn't know, so I didn't say anything about it-"
"That's impossible." But even as Thor says this, he believes it less and less. "It was a dream."
"If it was, I wouldn't have the bruises, would I," Loki whispers, and finds himself leaning heavily against the wall, feeling faint. His heart pounds harshly in his ribcage and he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Finally, finally, Thor speaks again. Loki waits for it, the denouncement, but it does not come.
Thor is suddenly close to him, effectively trapping Loki between his body and the wall.
"You don't utter a word about this to Mother or Father," he murmurs, "do you understand? If you do, so help me..."
Thor doesn't need to finish the threat. Loki shakes his head wildly, ignoring the tears threatening to escape the corners of his eyes (because crying is for babies). "No," he agrees, voice raspy, "of course I won't."
Thor steps away, and Loki breathes a small sigh of relief. "Good." He finally garners enough courage to look up at Thor; cold blue eyes stare at him in return. "You won't ever bring it up again, either."
"Never," Loki accedes, all promises.
Thor leaves him alone for the rest of the night, and would continue to do so for the rest of the week.
Loki crawls into his bed and uses his hands for a makeshift pillow beneath his head, if only to stop them from trembling.
. . .
lxvii. what had really happened
The project was simpler than they thought, and they were finished within the hour that Balder came over. But Loki didn't want his friend to leave - Thor wasn't home yet, and it would have been boring around the house - and said that Balder could stay a little while longer, if he wanted. To his gratefulness, Balder agreed.
They made idle chatter, Loki hanging upside down from the edge of the bed and Balder splaying himself on the floor. Balder was the type of friend that Loki felt completely comfortable around. He never had doubts about telling him something, because he never had to worry about Balder judging him.
So he had no qualms about asking, "Why do you think people kiss each other?"
Balder shifted to his side, blue eyes watching Loki curiously. They reminded him of Thor's, except softer. Something like that. "Um, I don't know," he said, nose crinkling at the strange question. "To show that they love them?"
"Have you ever kissed anyone?"
"Just my parents, but I don't think you're talking about that kind of kissing. So, no." Balder paused. "Why?"
It struck a distant memory. "Just thinking," he replied. "Would you ever kiss someone?"
"Someone told me that you kissed someone if you loved them. So I would, I guess. If I really liked them." Balder was blushing at this point. "Really, why are you asking all these weird questions, Loki?"
Loki thought of two things: an accidental kiss, and then another, sloppier, between a drunk and the one trapped beneath him.
If kisses were supposed to be for people you loved, then all those times meant that Thor just loved him, right?
Loki touches his side semi-consciously.
"I told you, I was just thinking," he said, rolling over. He changed the topic swiftly, satisfied with the answers he had received. "Here, do you want to play some games?"
a/n:
I think this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I wanted this plot point to have a section of its own. sorry! D:
that being said, I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who's reading this story and all the support you guys have been giving me. I'm glad you all seem to like reading this as much as I like writing it! :o