Thor must admit that for a brief period when she returns, their sex is very good.
It is always good. He is always pleased to be with her. Perhaps the better way to describe it would be to say that it is different. It reminds him of what such things were like between them when he had first come back to her, after deciding that he would rather live his life a soldier of Midgard than as king of Asgard. There is desperation and need. They grow reacquainted with one another's bodies through frantic exploration. Though in this transitional period between there and here, she is distant from him, her body is always near.
She pushes and pulls at him with vigor, presses kisses to any part of him her lips can reach, keeps her eyes open and insists he does too. She takes him more into her mouth than she ever does; not that she has ever been squeamish about it. Thor understands his desperation. Every time they lay together, he slides into her with the hope that this will be the time he brings her back to him and this will be the time he keeps her here. He does not understand hers and though he hopes it is only because she has missed him in her absence, there is something in the quake of her thighs and the dig of her nails that makes him think it is not nearly so simple. In the same way he is trying to pull her in, he wonders if she is trying to push Loki out.
Jane grows restless in the cradle of his arms and rouses herself to visit the restroom. She returns and begins rooting around in her wardrobe for a change of garment. Thor feels as if he sees her back more than he sees any other part of her. It is a lovely back, though. Her compact nature, so unlike that of Aesir women, has exaggerated her curves and though she is very slight, there is a fullness to her he finds endlessly appealing, even though that fullness is always less when she comes home.
"Is something amiss, beloved?"
She turns toward him, shirt clutched to her stomach, and regards him for a moment before shaking her head.
"No. No, I'm alright. I've just got a lot on my mind."
"Share your burden with me."
The shirt is stretched and twisted between her hands, her teeth drag over her bottom lip. Thor can see her mind turning as she considers.
"I'm late."
He blinks.
"Late? Did you have an appointment today?"
"No, Thor. Late. Like, late."
Thor's knowledge of the female anatomy is limited to what pleases a woman, what does not, and how children are conceived. It was not an appropriate topic among warriors of the Aesir, but he has heard that among lovers on Midgard, such discussions should be readily and easily had, when the need arises. Midgardian women are not so modest about the inner workings of their mysteries, if Darcy is any indication, and once, while the two of them were chatting about cramps and what terrible things they wished to do to their ovaries, his discomfort moved Darcy to tell him to "grow up." So he has endeavored to, by asking questions of Jane (which can be sometimes awkward for her, apparently) and by learning of certain slang terms from the periodical literature Cosmopolitan.
"You have not bled."
"That's right. And I was supposed to start about a week, a week and a half ago."
The implications dawn on him slowly, sun rising over his mental facilities. Oh.
"Oh."
"Yeah. You get what I'm saying? I was on my pill, but things happen sometimes..."
He frowns, rubbing his chin. Were they on Asgard, he would bring her to a healer and confirmation would be simple. However, he does not know if he can take her to another realm in such a...potentially delicate state.
"Are there not ways here on Midgard to confirm or disprove-"
"There are, but it's probably too early."
His frown slowly spreads and lifts until he is grinning. An unorthodox way to start a family, yes, but nothing concerning Jane is ever orthodox and that is one of the many, plentiful reasons why he loves her.
"Why...why are you smiling?" She asks warily, brows raised.
"This is wonderful, Jane," He springs from the bed and walks toward her, arms outstretched. "We will marry soon, within the fortnight. I will make all the necessary preparations. I have already discussed this with Tony - he generously offered that we may make use of one of his many homes. We will have a ceremony here and one in Asgard when the child is born-"
She stops him at the entrance of her closet with a hand on his chest and his arms slowly lower.
"Slow down! How is this wonderful?! You've already been planning our wedding?"
"How is it not? You will bring a life into the world, a life as precious and wonderful as yours, and together, we will watch it grow and flourish."
Her eyes soften.
"That's...very sweet, Thor, but I don't want to have a child and I don't want to get married. Not now, at least."
He does not understand.
"I do not understand."
"I'm not ready. My work - the things I'm learning - I mean, I don't have time. And with what happens every year..."
Suddenly, things begin to click into place. He should have considered it before. His heart twists and writhes in his chest and his joy drains. It is difficult to choose the words and even harder to say them, but he manages, pushing them past mind, throat, tongue, and lips. His voice is lower than he meant it to be.
"I would...I would raise any child of Loki's as if it were my own, Jane."
For a moment, she says nothing beyond her expression. It is simultaneously one of surprise and pain - as if she has been struck. He does not doubt that he looks very similar, but seeing it painted on her face is displeasing to him, so he reaches toward her again. She tries once more to stop him, but he is stronger. If he wants to hold her, he can, he will, and he does. Anger hovers along the edges of his...he cannot rightly name this emotion, but it is not a good one. She is still in his arms and does not return the embrace, but he feels the shirt she was clutching blanket their feet as it falls. Against his chest, she makes small, guttural sounds as she tries to speak, but the spell prevents it.
Eventually, she settles upon a whisper: "That's not fair to you."
She is right, but he does not care, nor does he wish to tell her, so he stays silent. They stay this way for what may be anywhere between five seconds and five minutes. His sense of time is always so skewed when he is with her.
"Why don't you just leave me?" She asks so quietly that he feels the vibrations, hears the suggestion of words rather than her actual question.
"There is no where else for me other than by your side."
Two days later, she bleeds and she is ecstatic. He smiles with her, but he cannot help a small sigh of regret.
