4.
It was the last night of the tour; a tour that had gone fantastically well but, as far as Thor was concerned, for all the wrong reasons. Loki, Destiny's Illusion, the increasingly fervent fan base that seemed to be growing for them both and above it all was Loki, always Loki. The more popular they became the more obnoxious he seemed to grow, and if someone had said this to Thor when he first set eyes on the irksome bastard he would have laughed and said that was impossible.
It was over now, they were back in London, and Loki would be gone in the morning. For all of this he should have been happy, relieved; he should have been overwhelmed with fucking ecstasy. But he wasn't. He could not even begin to put his finger on why, but he was not happy at all.
They were celebrating – supposed to be celebrating – in a private bar they had hired for the event, on top of a roof, a beer garden looking down on the cars and the lights below shimmering like stars in a sky seen from the wrong way round. All around him the two bands were raucous with celebration, hanging out and laughing, all grudges temporarily forgotten, even Sif laughing with the other band's drummer as though they had not frequently had to be prised apart from coming to blows the whole way through the tour. He knew his voice should have been the loudest in the throng. He should have been among them, not slouching in the corner by the wall, brooding over- what- he did not even know.
"Cheer up Odinson!" came the last voice he wanted to hear close to his ear – "You'll have got rid of us soon enough. Lighten up – have a drink!" He looked up from the ground at which he had been adamantly glaring, right into Loki's grinning – and, in the low light and starlight, suddenly breath-taking face.
"I'll lighten up tomorrow," he grouched back, swallowing heavily.
"Too bad I won't be around to see it."
"If you were, trust me I wouldn't."
"Oh Thor," Loki sighed, light and affectionate as though they were friends – "Why do you have to always be so mean?"
"Go away Loki," he scowled, wondering himself. This wasn't like him. Not at all. He didn't know where it came from, he didn't – he told himself so often and emphatically enough. Loki looked at him curiously, like a cat deciding how much longer it should toy with its prey;
"You know what I think it is?" he drawled, inching a little closer, and he was already more in Thor's space than he was even faintly happy with. When Thor just grunted, Loki went on regardless, of course;
"I think –" he purred, in the smug way of someone who thinks that because they think it, it has to be true – "You just don't like knowing that we were better than you. That is it – isn't it?"
"It is not." Thor gritted out – "And you are not better than us."
"Oh please –" people were starting to look at them now, worried looks from both bands, and it was obviously under these circumstances that Loki, rather than follow up with a well- timed insult or scathing witticism went straight into the kill with an unexpectedly crude – "You're shit and you know you are."
There was the sound of a couple of dozen people not quite gasping and Sif closing her eyes in a face palm without the gesture.
"You little –" it was as far as Thor got before grabbing Loki by his soft and feathered collar and hurling him into the wall, holding him there with a rough pinch around the back of the neck as though holding a scratching angry cat. He was seconds from punching him – he told himself afterwards – when he saw the grin and the look of unmistakable satisfaction in the mocking green eyes. He trembled with rage, muscles straining in the arm that held Loki off the ground against the wall;
"Get out," he spat. When nobody moved he roared it – "EVERYBODY GET OUT!"
There was the sound of reluctant shuffling as all the while Thor's eyes burned into Loki's.
On the way out Fandral whispered nervously to Sif – "Is this wise? They're gonna kill each other."
This time Sif really did roll her eyes –
"Fandral –" she sighed – "You really are quite emphatically stupid."
-x-
As soon as the roof was clear, Thor slammed his lips viciously into Loki's. He dropped him enough for Loki to be on his feet but his fingers did not release any of their hold on his neck and Loki leaned up and into the kiss, pushing back as though it was a fight after all. It was an attack, teeth and lips and hands, grasping, shoving and desperate; the first time he broke off for air he wished he had not, for Loki rolled his eyes and hissed a triumphant –
"Finally."
Instead of punching, Thor slapped him and Loki wound his arms around him like an aggressively growing vine, twisting into him as though Thor's limbs were the tree around which he would grow.
"I hate you Loki," Thor growled, pressing himself, hard and painful, against the perfect lithe form, crushing him into the wall;
"The fuck's that got to do with anything?" Loki hissed back, clever hands under Thor's shirt, nails ripping down his back like the claws of some small feral animal. The pain was divine and Thor responded in kind, hands kneading and bruising, dragging Loki's shirt off to see the red marks and bruises spread across the perfect pale skin. Loki hissed as Thor bent to lick and bite at his neck; he had been starving for this and he should have known it. Thor muttered a curse as his shaking fingers tried to work at Loki's belt buckle; it was silver and complex, twisted like a snake;
"Impatient oaf," Loki muttered, but he helped and had almost turned round, pressed his own face into the wall before Thor could shove him there; he wrapped a hand around his cock before he became too trapped to move, wriggled the other into his pocket to hand Thor the small bottle of lube he had kept there. Thor growled in irritation at Loki's forethought, irritated that he had known this would happen, but more than that relieved that he would not have to struggle; his erection was huge and hurting and he rubbed the oil in with a grunt, cursing in pleasure as he finally shoved in. Loki's cries were muffled in the wall and his eyes leaked but he pushed back, needy and wanting;
"Now who's impatient?" Thor murmured in his ear; he would have made him wait but he couldn't, just thrust in hard and fast, pressing his whole body in to feel the sweet softness of Loki's skin against him as he did; he had not known he would want that so much, or that he would nuzzle his shoulder and the unbearably sweet curve of his neck. His eyes closed in bliss when he came, but Loki's rolled upwards so that when he came shortly after it was staring up at the stars.
Thor pulled away abruptly; not entirely sure what he was going to do, he found himself frowning. He had not thought he would miss the contact. He thought he would feel some sense of finality. He did not. Loki turned, smiled, decided for him, with a small hand curling as far as it could around Thor's wrist and pulling him down beside him as he slid down against the wall, pulling him against him, almost over him as though he were sleepy and Thor was a blanket.
Thor's mind formed a bewildered, gasping oh – and it felt as though he had been kicked in the chest by a horse; he looked at Loki and those eyes seemed to pull him in. When he found himself, within minutes, needing him again, this time he had to make it with Loki on his back, looking down into that beautiful, intriguing face, stroking him more gently than he had ever wanted.
The whole night they stayed there, on and under a pile of coats and clothes, leather and sequins, fur and steel. Loki's kisses left Thor breathless and Loki in turn became breathless at his touch. Every time it felt like the whole world had changed they looked up to see the stars remaining the same, the cool of the wind on their heated faces whispering a promise to tantalise and terrify.
Thor never remembered falling asleep but when he woke up it was with Loki's head pressed into the crook of his arm and the rest of him, curled up like a cat trying to fit his whole self against his chest. He smiled up at Thor with streaked eyeliner and glitter on his cheeks and Thor felt a moment of sharp stabbing pain, knowing himself and almost knowing Loki and knowing how this was going to go, wishing they could both be different.
He kissed him in the red light creeping over the lip of the roof, kissed him until Loki took his early morning need in hand, swinging up onto him and riding like he was a horse into the breaking dawn. Thor held his hips and barely needed to move, simply stared up into his face, his outline almost a shadow against the sunrise, beautiful shadow – he thought – how will I know who I am if turn and do not see you there?
But when it was over the morning was a grey one, the sun weak and the rain starting to fall. There were dull rainbows watery on their hands when Loki turned away and barely said goodbye and he, wanting nothing else in the world than to do otherwise, turned away too, backing away from an intensity of feeling too much for him to handle.
It was not until later, as he shrugged his jacket on with a heavy sigh, that he noticed the green gem pinned to the lapel, glinting up at him and laughing like a strange green star with a secret hidden closely inside.
_x_
Don't cry! Nobody cry! This is obviously not the end! Heaps more to go from here. :-)
