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“What did you do?” Loki, jaw slack with shock, stared at the blackened mess that used to be Thor’s bed. “Did someone attack you in the middle of the night?”
“No,” Thor took a deep breath, the heated thrum of electricity still vibrating beneath his skin, “I dreamt...”
Loki turned his guarded gaze on him and asked sharply, “what did you see, Thor?”
“I don't remember,” Thor lied after a pause. His arm lifted unconsciously, yearning to touch, to make sure his brother was truly here, unharmed and whole, standing by his side. Thor suppressed the urge and made for the mead wine at Loki’s elbow instead. The phantom taste of Loki’s blood was still strong in his mouth, Hela’s triumphant sneer seared into his skull. He took a shaky swig straight from the glass and grimaced at the lukewarm liquid.
“Careful there, we can’t have another alcoholic onboard this vessel,” Loki’s fingers curled around Thor’s fist, halting the bottle in midair when he lifted it for another drink.
“You need to learn to control your powers, brother,” Loki continued, easing the wine out his hand with clever fingers, “we can’t afford any more damage to the ship. Especially after the Hulk incident.”
Thor grimaced at the memory. He had not slept fitfully since his coronation, and the exhaustion had made him sloppy. The new king of Asgard had accidentally zapped Brunnhilde with his lightning when she tapped his shoulder from behind, which resulted in him being body-slammed into the wall by an overprotective Hulk and leaving a human-sized dent in the thick metal. Afterward, Thor had peeled himself out of the crater and apologized profusely to the family they had startled.
“Sorry, brother,” The God of Thunder murmured as Loki lifted his chin to examine his bloodshot eye, lips pursing at the evident exhaustion on Thor's face.
Loki sighed, “come with me.”
“Where are we going?” Thor asked.
“Where do you think?” Rolling his eyes, Loki said, “it’s the middle of the night.”
“Your bed?” He tried to not sound as eager as he felt.
“Yes and no,” Loki strode along the empty hall on silent feet, Thor close behind. The doors to his quarters hissed open and with a wave of his hand, a temporary cot appeared on the floor next to the large bed. Loki smirked at him, “you’re on the floor.”
“But-”
“No negotiations, Thor,” Loki interrupted, “you are a terrible bed partner. You hog all the covers and cling to everything. Take it or leave it, brother. I am being extremely generous as it is. Tomorrow, we can find you more permanent quarters.”
“Fine,” Thor pouted, pulling his shirt over his chest and reluctantly lying down on the makeshift cot. Loki dimmed the lights and climbed into bed.
His right eye socket, although healed, still throbbed like a fresh wound, like the way Hela’s hand had pierced through Loki’s chest, the shocking pain cutting Thor so deep he thought he had died when he had bolted upright in bed, lightning crackling across his skin and a silent scream burning in his throat.
“Remember when we were little, Mother told us that story about the Kraken, and you were convinced that it lived under your bed? You were so scared to sleep alone,” Thor croaked, pressing his palm over the knot of hot scar tissue on his face. There was a pause before Loki’s amused exhale reached his ears in the dark.
“When Mother refused to keep spending the night in my room, you took it upon yourself to capture the beast and camped out under my bed for a fortnight. I would drape an arm over the edge of the bed and you’d hold my hand till dawn,” Loki chuckled quietly, “every single night for two whole weeks, decked out in your tiny Valkyrie outfit and sword.”
“And when you got older, you kept an actual pet monster that slept under your bed. It scared the hell out of me when it tried to drag me under once,” Thor added, shaking his head at the memory of Loki's bizarre hobbies. His good eye had adjusted in the dark, and Thor could make out a small spattering of light specks in the ceiling, the patterns mimicking the night sky above Asgard. He wondered if Loki found it a bit easier to sleep under the familiar stars of their home world.
“What happened to us, Loki?”
He heard the sheets rustle when Loki moved, and when Thor turned his head, he saw Loki extend his arm. Thor reached out without thinking, their fingers tangling in the darkness.
“I don’t know,” Loki whispered into the silence.
Thor took a deep shuddering breath and opened his mouth, “I saw her kill you in front of me, our sister, and I was powerless to stop her.”
The words poured out like blood out of an ugly wound.
“I begged and begged for her to take me instead, but Hela said she wanted me to suffer before she killed me, she wanted me to feel the most agonizing pain in the world, to truly break-"
“Enough,” Loki’s hand clenched around his like cold steel, “It was a dream. I am here, and Hela is dead.”
“Yes, you are,” Thor agreed after a pause, dragging his thumb over Loki’s smooth knuckles.
To his confusion, his brother cursed under his breath.
“Get up here,” Loki bit out.
“What?”
“Do not make me repeat myself, Thor,” Pulling his fingers from Thor’s grasp, his brother shifted to make room for him on the bed, “one night, and I swear to Odin if you steal the covers, I will stab you in the buttocks.”
Fond affection spread thick and hot inside Thor’s chest, chasing away the icy remnants of the nightmares. He crawled into bed beside Loki, the sheets warm and smelling of his brother. Loki had turned his back to him, half-hidden in the avalanche of fluffy pillows on the bed. He yanked the covers over to his side with a vicious jerk of his arm. Thor smiled and leaned over to press a grateful kiss to the back of his younger sibling’s head.
“Thank you, Loki,” He whispered, closing his eye.
Sleep stole over Thor in seconds. This time, he did not dream.
Someone had put a slimy toad in Thor’s right boot when he next woke.
Brain still addled from finally getting a good night’s sleep, Thor had forgotten to check before placing his foot inside. Over the years, he’d developed the healthy habit of checking every article of clothing before putting it on after numerous unfortunate encounters with Loki’s trickery.
"Gah," he grimaced at the slippery wetness.
A giggle from somewhere behind the dresser signaled the whereabouts of the culprit. Springing from his brother’s bed, Thor managed to snag the tiny green-eyed girl around the waist before she had the chance to flee. Propping the child on one hip, he grabbed his eyepatch from the bedside table and slipped it on.
“And who are you?” He pretended to scowl at her.
“Alva!” The little girl chirped, round cheeks flushed from laughter. With her raven locks and jade eyes, she bore a sharp resemblance to his mischievous sibling.
“Alva, you wouldn’t happen to be related to my brother, would you?” Thor asked weakly, setting her down to grab one of Loki’s dark green shirts from his closet. He shrugged it on while Alva carefully scooped out the slimy brown toad from his boot, her eyes shining with delight. She presented it to him with both hands. The toad croaked a loud greeting.
“Now where did you get that from?” Thor asked.
Thor found Loki seated by one of the windows overlooking the vast dark void outside the ship, a thick book open in his lap while the flock of children played around him. Thor watched as a small blond boy ran at him, only to bounce off of the invisible barrier Loki had set up around himself. His brother smirked and leisurely turned the page.
“He told you to steal the toad from the herpetologist on Deck Three?” Thor asked the child perched in his arms. Alva nodded vigorously. Thor set her down carefully and approached his brother.
Loki squawked, Thor’s lightning shattering the magical barrier like sugar glass. But when he reached for his brother, his hands went cleanly through Loki’s torso. The God of Thunder blinked, surprised. Then, something hard bounced off the back of his head. Thor whirled around, scowling. Loki was leaning gracefully against one of the steel pillars, a small round pebble clutched loosely in his long fingers.
“What was it about me being predictable again, Lord of Thunder?” He drawled.
Thor dodged the next throw, grinning wildly as he grabbed the nearest object, which just happened to be a decorative boulder the size of a small Midgardian sedan. Loki’s eyes widened in alarm, “wait a goddamned minute, Thor-”
“Your majesty!” Heimdall’s voice was like a clap of thunder out of the blue. Thor, the huge rock piece still held over his head, turned very slowly to face the older man. Brunnhilde, who had come along with Heimdall, was doubled over, guffawing like a hyena.
“Put down the murder weapon, Thor,” Heimdall said in an exasperated voice, “I leave the two of you alone for an hour, and you resort to throwing rocks at one another like five-year-olds.”
“He started it,” Thor pointed accusingly at his brother, who hastily arranged his expression into one of youthful innocence.
“Three-year-olds,” Heimdall corrected.
Thor’s face burned. Brunnhilde smirked.
“Come here, both of you,” Heimdall beckoned, huffing when the brothers narrowed their eyes suspiciously at him, still rooted to their spots, “I’m not here to deal out any punishments.”
“Korg and the Rebels are working in the engine rooms, I need you to come take a look at some of the changes they are proposing before we get started,” Heimdall addressed Thor, then, turning to Loki, he pulled something out of his cloak and handed it over, “This was the only book I managed to hang onto during my exile, your mother wanted me to pass it on to you when it was time. I think it is time, Loki.”
“Mother?” Loki’s hands shook as he eased the cover open, his green eyes widening in awe at the sight of Frigga’s elegant handwriting.
To my dearest Loki was inscribed on the first page.
He swallowed thickly, “I-”
Thor squeezed his shoulder, and Loki turned to look at him, a small smile on his face and quiet voice full of reverence, “a book of spells Mother invented herself. For me.”
“I cannot think of anyone more worthy,” He didn’t even protest when Thor reeled him in and planted an affectionate kiss on the side of his head.
Heimdall smiled at them, “the folks on Deck Seven are discussing potential crops we could grow on the ship, your mother was the Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge. Go to them, Loki, use that bright mind of yours to help them come up with something.”
Around them, the children groaned in disappointment.
“He has work to do," Heimdall cleared his throat, “as for you lot, come along. It is time for your morning lessons.”
Thor watched them go, pouting and dragging their feet along.
“You seem quite popular with the young ones, dear brother,” Thor teased, his arm still around Loki’s shoulder.
“Hmm,” Loki hummed thoughtfully, Mother’s book held protectively to his chest. He turned to Thor, eyes taking in his bright smile and asked, “how did you sleep?”
“Like a babe,” Thor sighed happily, thumping Loki’s back one more time before he made his way down the hall, calling out, “same time tonight, brother?”
“Wait, what?” Loki shouted after him, “No, Thor! Last night was a one-time thing. I refuse to let you into my bed again! You drooled all over my favorite pillow, you disgusting beast!”
“Hey man,” Korg greeted Thor, “you look a lot less dead today.”
“Thank you, I guess,” Thor smiled, “I finally got a proper night’s sleep in Loki’s bed.”
“The prissy one with the pretty hair?” Korg hummed thoughtfully, “he pulled you off, eh?”
“What? No, he’s my brother,” Thor sputtered, blood rushing to his face, “I meant we merely slept on the same bed. Stop putting words in my mouth.”
Korg shrugged mildly, going back to the mess of pipes he’s sorting through, “I’m not one to judge.”
Clearing his throat, Thor changed the subject, “How is Miek doing?”
Korg shrugged again, “he’s fine. Not really sure what male Sakaaran biology is like, but he seems to be going through a nesting phase, what with the nonstop egg-laying and territorial behavior.”
“I see,” Thor blanched.
“Or at least I think those are eggs coming out of his rear end,” Korg went on, rubbing his chin in thought, “it could be really spongy diarrhea, come to think of it. Anyway, it’s getting everywhere in our room, I should probably take him to the healers soon.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Thor backed away gingerly.
The members of Loki’s theater troupe were putting on yet another rendition of The Tragedy of Loki of Asgard in the atrium when Thor walked past. A temporary stage had been erected at the center of the spacious room, and quite an impressive crowd had gathered despite the number of times they’d already seen it. Instead of feeling annoyed at the cheesy dialog, Thor grinned and made his way closer.
“I didn’t do it for him,” The actor playing Loki enunciated dramatically and went limp in the thick arms of the Thor actor, who was bawling his eyes out, snot and tears dribbling down his red face.
“I do not cry like that,” Thor told one of his nearby subjects.
The woman lifted her eyebrow at him, the small boy standing at her side mirroring his mother’s unimpressed expression. Thor cleared his throat and glanced away, ears warm. He caught sight of a pale black-haired doll clutched tightly to a little girl’s chest. He crouched down to her eye-level and asked, “what have you got there, little one?”
“It’s Loki,” The small redhead thrust it into his face, her brown eyes shining, “the greatest sorcerer in the nine realms! I want to be just like him when I grow up.”
“Really?” Thor studied the stuffed doll, thoroughly amused. “Why’s that?”
“Because he was so brave that he sacrificed his life to protect his brother,” She answered.
His heart clenched at the words, “Do you have siblings?”
“Two younger sisters,” She piped up, beaming. Thor studied her fiercely proud expression with a fond smile.
“Well, they are lucky to have you,” He wiped the smudge of dirt from the tip of her nose with a gentle thumb. She blushed and thanked him quietly.
“You are not as stupid or monstrous as the tales portray you to be,” Her next words drew a scandalized gasp from the mother who had been watching their interactions with a smile.
“Merida!” She reprimanded sharply, “I apologize for my daughter’s inappropriate words, your Highness.”
“What tales?” Thor asked, frowning.
“Odin's Bedtime Stories,” Merida answered, pointing to something clutched in the hands of the unimpressed little boy from earlier. Thor saw the pot-bellied, buck-tooth figure of the Thor doll dangling in his arms, or at least he thought it was supposed to be him, what with the blond hair, armor, cape and tiny tiny hammer.
“I see,” Thor gritted out between clenched teeth. He straightened just as the play came to an end and the Asgardians around him burst into enthusiastic applauses. He waited until the actors finished bowing before he approached, the crowd parting around him as he walked up to the stage.
“Your Highness,” The older man who played his father Odin inclined his head in respect, but Thor waved away the formalities with a careless hand.
“Do you do other plays?” Thor demanded, getting straight to the point.
“What?” They blinked at him.
“Other plays, ones that are not scripted by my dear brother,” Thor elaborated.
“Well, I suppose,” The old actor stroked his beard thoughtfully, “I don’t see why not.”
“Excellent,” He rubbed his palms together, an idea already starting to take shape in his head. Thor grinned, “here’s what I want you to do…”
The next morning, Thor woke with his head pillowed on Loki’s bony right shoulder, the length of his body pinning his younger sibling securely to the bed. Loki’s face was half-hidden under his own arm, pale pink lips slightly parted and breathing evenly. Thor lifted his head and wiped the trail of moisture off his chin. He had somehow unconsciously maneuvered across the giant bed in his sleep and draped himself over Loki’s narrow form.
Smiling guiltily, Thor untangled their legs and got up. He was in the process of stealing Loki’s clean robes when his brother spoke.
“You are a colossal ass, Thor,” Loki said, “I can’t feel the left side of my body.”
“You adore me, admit it, little brother,” Thor shot back, shamelessly pilfering more of Loki’s clothes. Loki threw the eyepatch at his face with all his might, bouncing it off of Thor’s forehead.
“The day Hel freezes over,” Loki hissed, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and shedding his nightshirt. He eyed the wet patch of drool Thor had left behind with thinly veiled disgust.
“I’ve heard Heimdall has put you in charge of restoring the book vaults, brother,” Thor said conversationally, dancing past Loki and expertly evading his half-hearted slap.
“News travel fast,” Loki grunted and shimmied into his trousers without magic. Black hair sticking up in a tangled mess and green eyes still unfocused with sleep, Thor was suddenly overcome by how utterly adorable his homicidal little brother truly was.
“Meet me for lunch in the mess hall?” Thor prompted, snagging him by an elbow and carding fingers through Loki’s hair in an attempt to slick it down.
“Can’t,” Loki grunted, “Heimdall and I are working on something.”
Thor frowned, “What are you two up to?”
Loki beckoned him for him to lean forward. Thor did.
“It’s a secret,” Smirking, his younger sibling flicked him painfully in the ear.
Thor retaliated by licking his palm and wiping it over Loki’s precious hair. He bolted for the doors before his brother could find his favorite dagger and bury it where it would really hurt, Loki’s furious shrieks chasing him down the hall like a hoard of angry banshees.
Loki’s fingers were heavily bandaged the next time Thor saw him. His brother seemed to be in high spirits despite his wounds, and as much as Thor fretted over him and demanded to know what had happened, Loki kept his lips tightly sealed.
He paid Thor back for that morning’s disgusting stunt by getting a child to slip blood worms into his stew at dinner.
“Thor! Wake up, it’s not real!”
He choked on the scream clawing up his frozen chest, muscles bunched beneath his sweaty skin like steel bands. Thor forced his eye open and saw Loki’s pale drawn face hovering over his, his brother’s light weight straddling his hips, somehow pinning his thrashing body down with surprising strength.
“Loki,” Thor rasped, huge hands coming up to cup Loki’s face, the air smelled strongly of ozone and burnt flesh. Loki winced when Thor stared up at him in horror.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked tremblingly.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Loki snapped, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead with cool hands, “quit your sniveling, it is quite unbecoming of the king of Asgard.”
Forcing himself to let go, Thor swung his legs off the side of the bed, avoiding Loki’s gaze and said, “I should have left when you told me to, brother. Apologies.”
Loki’s fingers wrapped around his wrist like a hot brand, halting him in his steps.
“Did I give you permission to go?” Loki’s voice was strong and steady, “I’m not one of your delicate Midgardian conquests. I can handle whatever you dish out, brother.”
I am your equal, Thor.
The words went unsaid, but Thor heard them loud and clear.
“Sorry,” Bitting his lip, Thor sat back down gingerly, his muscles still stiff from the nightmare.
Without a word, Loki coaxed him back down onto the bed, and after a small pause, thin arms snaked around his torso, Loki’s solid chest pressed snuggly against his sweaty back. Thor intertwined their fingers, gently, so that he did not aggravate the curious wounds on his brother’s bandaged hands.
“Sleep, brother,” Loki commanded, so he did as he was told.
“What’s the matter with you?” Brunnhilde demanded, plopping herself down next to Thor with all the grace of a drunkard. She punched him in the arm with a friendly fist, “Why is our precious princess pouting?”
“I do not wish to talk about it,” Thor murmured, not taking his eye off the bright blue sparks dancing across his palms.
“Wanna spar then?” She grunted, hopping to her feet. “By the way, Heimdall wanted me to pass these on to you.”
Thor looked up when Brunnhilde dumped the heavy bundle into his lap. Brushing aside the thick velvet fabric, he saw a pair of beautifully crafted long swords, the sleek black metal smooth as obsidian, a glossy blue sheen reflecting off the metal. There was a pair of wrist guards of the same material with grey runes carved down the sides.
“These are beautiful,” Thor breathed, taking one of the swords and lifting it to admire the craftsmanship in the light. It felt so right in his grip, like it had been made specifically for him.
“Yeah, highly temperamental material but excellent for conduction,” Brunnhilde agreed, “whoever crafted them must love you very much to go through all the pain and effort.”
Thor stroked a finger lightly over the flat side of the sword, wincing when it came away stained red with blood. Slipping the digit into his mouth, he remembered the heavy bandages across Loki’s hands.
“Where are you going?” Brunnhilde yelled after him when Thor suddenly jumped to his feet, the air around them crackling with electricity.
“I will be back for that spar,” He shouted, heart hammering in his chest.
Thor found Loki seated among a gaggle of children, shoulders hunched and trying to be discrete as he inched away from the green mountain seated a few feet away. Hulk was conversing happily with the kids climbing over him, a garland of flowers that matched the one nestled in Loki’s long raven locks atop his head. Two little girls were braiding flowers into his younger brother’s hair as he scratched furiously away in his notebook.
Thor approached with a smile. Loki did not pause in his writing when the king of Asgard pressed a lingering kiss atop his head.
“Thank you, my beloved,” Thor whispered in his ear, affectionate thumb caressing the soft skin behind Loki’s ear.
“I don’t know what you are on about, brother,” Loki drawled, a lazy smirk tugging up the corner of his lips as his green eyes fell on the wrist guards on Thor’s arms.
“Right, of course you don't,” He dropped down to sit next to Loki, inclining his head when one of the children offered a garland of vibrant pink flowers. “What are you working on?”
“Mother’s spells,” Loki answered absently, “I am trying to develop something that can help cultivate more crops for the farmers. Did you know Mother could create life out of nothing but her magic?” He looked a bit crestfallen, "So far, I have only managed to make flowers sprout from the earth.”
“Flowers are beautiful,” Thor pointed out, his gaze never leaving Loki’s face.
“Not very useful,” Loki gestured, flicking the large blossom dangling next to Thor’s left ear, “although you do look lovely decked out in pink, my king.”
Thor laughed.
“I have agreed to spar with Brunnhilde, come watch, brother?” He nudged Loki’s shoulder.
“And see you get your ass handed back to you?” Loki mused, “no, thanks.”
“ANGRY GIRL ALWAYS WIN!” Hulk roared, sending a cloud of petals and leaves flying as he sneezed. The children cheered. Thor turned the full force of his puppy eyes on him. Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Very well,” he caved.
“What did I tell you?” Loki called from the high seat above the sparring arena. Hulk thumped the stands happily with his huge fists. The children clapped in delight. Thor picked himself back up, wiping at his bruised cheek. Brunnhilde smirked at him from across the field, her Dragon Fang clutched in one fist. She kicked Thor’s sword off to the side.
“You are not helping, Loki,” He yelled back, throwing his arm out without thinking, the memory of losing Mjolnir having slipped from his mind in the heat of the battle. To Thor’s surprise, the obsidian sword on Brunnhilde’s side of the arena flew back into his hand, the dark grey runes on his wrist guards glowing a molten gold.
Loki’s cleverness never ceased to amaze Thor.
Grinning widely, Thor channeled his powers into the blade, watching as it glowed a brilliant electric blue. Brunnhilde narrowed her eyes and moved into the defensive position.
“Another!” Thor roared happily, triumphant.
“That was not a fair fight,” Brunnhilde declared, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. She huffed and kicked at a nearby bench, putting a solid dent in the material. She pointed at Loki, “you cheated with his magic.”
“Prove it,” came Loki’s lazy drawl.
“Well, how would you like it if you were going pitted against the brute,” Brunnhilde shot back.
Thor’s eye lit up. “Yes, brother! it has been ages since we last sparred.”
“For good reason,” Loki rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What? Don’t tell me you are afraid,” Brunnhilde started making irritating clucking noises up at him, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. Hulk and the children screamed with laughter.
“My brother is fearless, I assure you Lady Brunnhilde,” Thor spoke, fond smile crinkling the corner of his remaining eye as he gazed at Loki.
“GO OR HULK SMASH!” The green beast cracked his knuckles threateningly in Loki’s direction. Loki’s eye twitched. Brunnhilde threw her head back and laughed.
Loki materialized in the field in a flash of green, looking down his nose at the God of Thunder. “Well, let’s get this over with then, oaf.”
“I will go easy on you, brother.” Grinning, Thor charged.
They rolled to a stop with Thor atop his struggling red-faced brother, one massive hand over his chest pinning Loki down and the other gripped roughly around his thin wrists, keeping the small sharp dagger well away from any fleshy bits.
“Do you yield, brother?” Thor panted, flushed and body thrumming with adrenaline. He sat down harder when Loki wriggled like a landed trout and attempted to knee him in the crotch.
Loki’s face was pink from the exercise, a thin sheen of sweat dotting his brow. Thor's brother looked stunningly beautiful pinned beneath him. He swallowed, suddenly feeling hot around the collar for an entirely different reason. Loki bared his teeth in a sharp savage smile, arching up.
“Never,” He spat in Thor’s face.
There was a shimmer of green magic and Thor felt the shifting change beneath his palm, Loki’s muscular chest giving way to soft round mounds of flesh. For a fraction of a second, Thor saw the familiar face of Natasha Romanov beneath him, his large hand firmly planted over one ample breast, then he flew sideways, smashing into the thick steel plating in the side of the arena, and the angry roar that followed could be heard from three floors up.
“THOR HURT NAT!” Hulk yelled, “HULK SMASH STUPID BLONDIE!!!!”
Brunnhilde wolf-whistled appreciatively from the stands. Picking himself up daintily, his little brother, still parading as the Black Widow, sauntered over and peered down at Thor, one of her sharp stilettos digging painfully into the meat of his shoulder.
“Do you yield, dear brother?” Loki asked sweetly.
“Ngh…” Thor groaned, blinking hazily up at him. Hulk smacked him upside the head again.
“Tell me you yield, Thor,” Loki stepped on the wrist inching toward his fallen weapon. Going limp beneath his brother, Thor opened his mouth.
“I yield,” He muttered under his breath.
“Pardon? What was that, Sparkles?” Loki fluttered his lashes innocently. Thor gritted his teeth.
“I yield!” He bellowed. The children cheered. Loki smirked.
“HULK MISSED NAT.”
The smirk disappeared as fast as it appeared.
“No, you mindless beast, get away from me!” Loki shrieked, backing off, “help me, Thor!”
Picking himself out of the hole in the floor, Thor shook the dirt and debris out of his hair. He cupped a hand around his left ear, “What was that, my dear Loki?”
“Help me, you heartless prick-gah!”
“What am I to you?” On stage, the actor playing Loki spat viciously, striking his counterpart across the face.
“You are my heart, dear brother, the sun and the moon, the center of my universe,” the Thor on stage recited soppily, pinning the other man tightly against his heaving bossom.
Across the feast table, the king of Asgard spied with his one good eye his younger brother promptly choke on his drink, pale handsome face going scarlet as the crowd applauded enthusiastically at the unexpectedly new plot twist.
“Told you he was pulling ‘im off,” Thor heard Korg tell the Rebel warrior seated to his right.
Thor pinched the bridge of his nose in despair, “Korg, it was only a prank.”
The Kronan put up his hands, “hey, like I said, no judgement from me, man. You do you.”
“And I thought I was the God of Lies.”
Thor looked up in the middle of prying off his boots. Loki’s cheeks were abnormally red, a slight glaze in his usually sharp and alert eyes. He’d had quite a bit to drink at dinner tonight.
“Well played, brother,” Loki snapped sarcastically, carding an agitated hand through his long locks and making his way toward the bath, discarding bits of clothes as he went.
“Loki,” He latched onto Loki’s elbow, but his brother shook him off. “I’m sorry if I offended you. It was merely meant to be a harmless prank.”
Loki’s flat smile was maddeningly polite, “of course it was, my king. Bravo.”
“It was never my intention to make you angry, Loki,” Thor brute-forced his way into the bathroom behind his brother, “please, I cannot bear it if you remain vexed with me.”
Loki whirled around, thin fingers twisting into the fabric of Thor’s tunic and nearly lifting him bodily off the floor in his anger.
“We are supposed to be brothers. Stop saying these things!” He hissed, furious.
“I don’t follow,” Thor said desperately when his brother flung him away in disgust and turned to prepare the bath. “What have I done wrong?”
Loki remained silent, his back turned.
“Please talk to me, Loki,” Thor’s voice cracked, “you are all I have left.”
Thin shoulders slumping, his younger brother let out a hollow chuckle.
“What am I to you, Thor?” Loki asked quietly.
Thor froze, heart skipping to a halt. There was no reason to attempt a lie, not when his little brother was the God of Mischief. Besides, his clumsy tongue had never been good at shaping words. Cold shame and hot desire warred within his chest, but somehow Thor found the courage to close the distance between them, his hands settling timidly at Loki’s narrow hips.
“My heart, the sun and the moon, the center of my universe,” He whispered, pressing his forehead against the nape of Loki’s swan-like neck.
A small broken sound escaped from Loki’s lips.
“Get out,” He said.
“What?” Thor could not believe what he was hearing.
“You are not thinking clearly,” Loki pointed out, his voice devoid of any emotion, “get out.”
“I-”
“Do not make me tell you again, Thor. Or there will be blood.”
“Very well.” He dared to brush a soft kiss against the smooth skin of Loki’s shoulder on his way out of the bathroom. The door slammed behind him with a resounding bang, cutting off any noise and leaving Thor alone to wallow in his silent misery. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance back at the bed they had shared for the past two weeks.
A whole fortnight.
The old memory came out of the blue.
Loki, cheeks still pink and round with baby fat, peering over the edge of his bed down at Thor on his makeshift cot on the floor, huge green eyes taking up half of his face.
“Are you still there, Thor?”
“I’m here, Loki,” Shooting him a double thumbs-up, Thor flashed a reassuring grin up at his precious baby brother and patted his tiny metal sword, the edge of which was sadly blunt.
“Promise?” Loki asked timidly.
“For as long as you need me,” Thor swore, “I can hold your hand if you want to be sure.”
There was a short pause before Loki’s pale stubby fingers dangled shyly over the side of the bed, warm and silky soft. Thor took them gently in his and did not let go until the sun came up over the balcony, spilling golden shafts of light into Loki's bedroom.
He looked down at his hands. They were lined with thick callouses, rough, massive, clumsy things so different from his brother’s elegant artist’s hands.
Making up his mind, Thor walked over to the bed and sat down to wait.
He didn't know how much time had passed when the door to Loki’s bathroom slid open with a soft click.
“Thor?” His brother whispered.
“I’m here.”
He approached, ignoring the brief flash of panic on Loki’s face. Loki did not push Thor away when he cupped his cheek this time and saw the same conflicted longing reflected in those green eyes.
“Promise?” Loki asked, cool fingers settling around Thor’s wrist.
“For as long as you will have me,” Thor vowed, and closed the distance between their lips.
-The End-