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The first time they saw it happen, was when Thor and Steve were sparring. Thor had stripped down to just his sweatpants, but Steve stubbornly clung to his thin shirt like a lifeline. (Tony mentioned something about preserving his modesty.)
Loki stalked into the training room, face twisted into a scowl and headed straight for Thor.
“Brother! What brings you- “
He pressed his face into Thor’s sweaty chest, right in the middle of his impressive pecs, cutting off any questions that would have arisen. Tony made a noise not unlike one of a disgruntled whale. Or just a regular whale.
“What is he doing?” Natasha stage-whispered.
As if encouraged into movement by sound, Loki slowly raised one hand and squeezed Thor’s right pec like a stress-ball. He stayed that way for a few more minutes, before detaching himself with a shudder.
“You will bathe before coming anywhere near the bed,” he informed Thor, and promptly disappeared.
“Did we just all see that? Am I hallucinating? Did I accidentally take a weird drug again? I need to know so that I can avoid…that happening again.”
“How do you accidentally take a weird drug Tony?”
Tony looked at Steve like he very much wanted to rip a chunk of his shiny blonde hair.
“That’s what you got out of this?” he demanded. He switched to Thor, unable to look at Steve anymore.
“Hey Thor, buddy. What the hell was that?”
Thor smiled at him, all innocent like he hadn’t just been groped by his brother in public.
“Loki does that when he is overwhelmed. It has been an honor for me to build the musculature that gives him just the right amount to squeeze.”
They all stared at him.
“Maybe I should be taking drugs,” muttered Tony.
The first time it actually happened, was a few years after Loki’s coming of age ceremony. He had come back to Asgard with a strange illness that left him shivering and put his seidr out of sorts. Their mother had done her best, but apparently Loki need only keep warm and rest to get better.
“Find out where he’s been,” said Frigga. “It may help in curing his illness.”
Suitably worried, Thor barged into Loki’s room and poked at the cocoon on the bed.
“Loki, brother, will you not tell the healers where you caught the illness? It will help them in curing you.”
Loki’s head popped out from the blankets, face paler than usual.
“And how is that relevant to my miserable existence?” he said, in a scratchy voice. “Leave me be, I will die like this, cold and uncomfortable.”
It had to be said that Loki’s dramatics increased considerably when he was unwell, but Thor was used to dealing with his nonsense. On most days. For now, he just sat next to Loki on the bed and placed his hand over his heated forehead.
“How can I help?”
Five minutes later, Loki was lying face down on Thor’s chest, soaking up as much warmth as he could from the never-ending furnace that was his brother. Thor didn’t mind so much, they used to sleep like this when they were younger and Loki was the perfect size to use as a squeeze pillow.
“Your chest is so warm,” Loki said, deliriously. “All that posturing and sweating seems to have paid off.”
“It is the result of my training, brother.”
But Loki didn’t respond, having fallen asleep face down on Thor’s chest. His hands were pressed close to Thor’s ribs, and his body gave an occasional shiver. Thor braced himself for hours of sweating and pulled one of Loki’s many blankets over them. He thought, perhaps, it wasn’t so bad spending the rest of their lives as Loki’s mattress.
(Later Loki admitted that he had gone to Midgard and consumed far too many of their iced treats. The God of Mischief had been brought down by a common cold.)
**
After that, it had become common for Loki to approach Thor with a certain look in his eye and a twitch in his fingers. They would stumble into the nearest empty room, where Thor would strip down to his breeches and let Loki slump into him, taking heavy breaths.
He had asked only once why Loki did this, and saw his brother fumble for words for the first time since he was caught stealing honey cakes from the kitchen.
“It’s just. You’re warm. Your scent helps me center my focus when I’m overwhelmed.”
He blanched, as if realizing the words that just came from his mouth. A knife was pressed to Thor’s stomach within the next five seconds.
“You speak of this to anyone and I will gut you and hang your entrails over Hliðskjálf as decoration.”
“Of course, brother,” said Thor, fondly. It was only a minor threat after all, and Loki had done and said much worse.
The knife disappeared and Loki’s long arms came up to wrap around his middle.
“Now stay like this. Your idiot friends have been pushing me to my limits.”
Thor wisely kept his mouth shut.
When Ragnarok happened, Thor had far more to look after than the comfort of his errant brother. It pained him to willfully push Loki to the end of his list, but his people needed a King, not a man that was relieved that his beloved had survived the destruction of their realm. So, he worked endlessly to make sure the people that had survived were comfortable, were warm and had enough food to eat.
His people were resilient and the Grandmaster’s ship was well stocked for a fairly long journey. There would be a time when they would need to make an emergency supply run, but for now it would be enough.
Thor trudged back to his empty room, scratching around his eye-patch. No one had mentioned how much healing wounds itched. It didn’t help that his body wasn’t in the greatest condition and he had prioritized the citizens’ healing over his own.
“Would you stop doing that? Soon you will be missing more than an eye if you insist on scratching that much.”
Thor paused his scratching. An illusion of Loki glared at him balefully from where he was perched on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t wearing his usual tunic and leathers, but some loose trousers and a soft looking shirt. With a jolt, Thor realized he was wearing Midgardian pajamas.
“You’re in silk pajamas.”
Loki raised an eyebrow.
“Good to know that having one eye has not ruined sight. As you can see, I am also seated on your bed and that my hair is black.”
“I am in no mood for your games, Loki.”
Thor focused on removing his armor, hoping that the illusion would get bored and disappear by itself. Instead, he felt a cool come around and settle on his stomach proprietarily.
“You’re really here.”
“Yes, and if you don’t finish undressing and let me heal your eye, I might get a little violent.”
Thor laughed, blinking back tears at the pang of fondness his brother’s words brought. Ragnarok had taken Asgard, but he still had this. He had Loki. And just maybe, Loki would choose to stay.
He let himself be manhandled onto the bed, with Loki seated on his stomach as he worked his seidr around Thor’s eye. Hela had made sure that it was unsalvageable, though Loki could still heal the flesh around it and pull the aching pain from Thor completely.
Loki pressed kisses under his eye, on his jaw and then finally his lips, before settling with his face in the crook of Thor’s neck.
“I am a selfish creature, and I am undeniably glad that you are alive to hold me once more in the safety of your arms,” he whispered. “If she killed you, I would have ripped the flesh from her bones and torn across the realms to bring you back. You are mine to hurt and mine to cherish, don’t you forget that Thor Odinson.”
Thor nudged Loki up, and pressed their cheeks together before kissing him sweetly, softly.
“Tomorrow, I would ravish you as you deserve,” he murmured. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock until you can scream no more. I would eat you out until my beard has ruined your inner thighs, fuck you until you are loose and pliant and begging for more. But tonight, I have a request.”
Loki ran a lazy hand across Thor’s chest, a slight tremble to it being the only thing giving away how affected he was by Thor’s words.
“Ask, and you shall have it.”
“Hold me, brother.”
They reversed their positions, and Loki held Thor close. The top of his pajamas lay discarded to the side, after Thor ripped it open and placed reverent kisses down Loki’s chest. He took deep, gulping breaths of his brother’s clean scent, still so familiar even when they did not have the luxury of baths on the ship.
Thor fell asleep like that, in Loki’s arms and clutching at him like a safety blanket. Thanos was coming for them, Ragnarok had happened. But Thor had Loki in his arms, and Loki had promised to stay. It was enough.