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With a grunt of annoyance, Thor flung his phone to the backseat, got out of the car, and slammed the door.
Breathe, he reminded himself, and indeed he tried. Truly, he did , but Loki was an expert at pushing his buttons. No matter how many times Thor reminded himself that he was supposed to set an example (which annoyingly happened to be in Mom's voice), he still lost his patience with Loki.
It couldn't be helped, Thor determined, kicking the pavement before heading back inside the school. Even if he tried to do some mindfulness bullshit, all he could focus on was this insistent itch at the back of his mind, but never his breathing. His record was maybe seven or eight seconds before deciding, Fuck it.
Today had been no different, except, perhaps, for how Loki hadn't been waiting for him when Thor got to the car. Usually, Loki was the first to get there, and Thor would find him leaning against the car either with his nose buried in a book or with his phone's screen reflected on his glasses. He would be so focused on his own thing that it wouldn't be until Thor turned on the ignition that Loki realised it was time to go. Other times, rare as they were, Thor would wait for him as Loki did whatever it was he did, but before the clock could hit the ten-minute mark, Loki would be jogging in the car's direction and all would be fine.
Today, however, twenty minutes had already passed, and Loki was still a no show. Which, to be completely honest, wouldn't really be a problem if, one, Thor weren't starving and if, two, Loki would just pick up his goddamn phone!
Seriously, Thor swore that the moment he found his brother, he would snatch Loki's phone, climb the stairs to the roof, and hurl the phone with all his strength. Honestly. Was it really so difficult to just answer? That was all that Thor asked for. A call or a text telling him Loki would be late so Thor could prepare his stomach for another half hour of waiting. Now, though, if it weren't because their mom's cooking was divine, Thor would pull over at a McDonald's and stuff himself with its nasty, carton-like food. That was how hungry he was. And, for forcing him to eat that shit, Thor would make sure to shove some hamburger monstrosity down Loki's throat instead of letting him get away with his usual shake and fries.
By God, why did that kid never pick up? It was such a recurrent issue that Thor didn't even fear sounding like his parents, though he suspected he did. It just annoyed him so much. Countless times, he had seen Loki reject a call from one of their parents to keep on playing. Thor himself had received the same treatment more times than he could count, and, once, when Loki had still been in middle school, Thor had been that poor, wretched soul that forgot his house keys on the one Saturday that his parents decided to go on a date. Easy fix, Thor had thought then, thanking God that Loki was in the house before dialing his number.
The little shit had answered with his "I wouldn't hurt a fly" voice and Thor, idiot that he was, had truly believed that there would be nothing to worry about. Until, that was, the minutes passed and passed, and Loki didn't open the door.
To make a long story short, Loki hadn't picked up the phone again and Thor had to sit outside on the sidewalk for two hours because interrupting their parents' date would incur Dad's wrath. Like hell would Thor do that, instead preferring Mom's stern scolding for forgetting his keys and not calling them, thus risking a cold, and so on, and so on.
To add insult to injury, when Thor had tried to blame Loki for it (because, as far as Thor was concerned, it was Loki's fault, except, only, for the part where he forgot his keys), Mom had replied, "He knows he's not supposed to open the door to anyone."
The pest, with his stupid, rosy cheeks Thor admitted he'd loved to pinch if only to hear Loki's whiny Thooor, had asked, "I did well, right, Mommy?"
"Of course you did, darling. Never open the door to strangers."
"But I'm not a stranger!" Thor had blurted in anger. "I'm his brother!"
Loki had sniffled haughtily, jutting his chin up and to the side. "Well, I didn't know that. "
Fucking little brothers, Thor thought as he rounded another corner, coming up to yet another empty hall. Still no sign of Loki, and Thor's annoyance had only increased at the recalled memory because, years later, that was still what came to mind whenever Loki ignored him.
Where could that kid be? At this hour the library was long closed, the halls were empty, and if Loki had been anywhere near the field, Thor would have seen him from the parking lot. Like the library, the classrooms were also closed, plenty of teachers being as happy to head home as their students, others to get their classrooms all to themselves so that they could plan their classes in peace. The only viable places, and the only ones Thor hadn't checked thoroughly, were the stairs.
Ugh, it would be just like Loki to be in a place like that, one that forced Thor to go up and down the building, again and again. By the time Thor finally reached the last flight of stairs on the east side (which, ironically, led to the roof), he was a panting mess with murder in his eyes. Football didn't prepare him for this.
"Loki," Thor growled as soon as he spotted the curled figure by the corner. "You better pray there's a good reason for this, or else I'm kicking your ass to next week. I swear I'll—"
Thor stumbled, stopping dead in his tracks when Loki lifted his head from his knees. "Jesus, Loki, what the fuck happened to your face?"
Loki didn't reply, just stared at him with little, bleary eyes, squinting. Other than Thor's general direction, he probably couldn't see much of anything else.
"Where are your glasses?" Thor pressed, rushing up the stairs two at a time to crouch in front of his brother. With a careful finger, he touched the blooming bruise on Loki's cheek, then moved on to inspect his split lip. Flinching, Loki tried to bat his hand away, but his aim was so off that, under any other circumstances, Thor would have laughed about it.
"C'mon, Loki. Where are your glasses?" Thor insisted, afraid that he already knew the answer, a fear that was confirmed when Loki dangled his broken glasses in front of his face. Oh, Dad would be so, so pissed. This was the third time since school started—or since ever, really. Loki was so careful with his things. Thor should have known something was off the first time Loki showed up at the car with his glasses broken in his clenched fist.
Well, at least there would still be an asshole who would pay for making Thor wait to eat his lunch. In fact, Thor would beat up this guy so badly that he would need to be scraped off the floor.
"Who did this to you?" Thor demanded, already cracking his knuckles in preparation.
Loki rolled his eyes, but without his usual sharp gaze trained on the object of his derision, the gesture was, Thor admitted, rather worrying.
"Don't be an idiot, Thor. It was just some stupid PE accident."
"Again?" Thor questioned, eyebrows arched in incredulity both at Loki's excuse and at his audacity. Did Loki really think Thor would believe that?
"Yeah. Again. So what?"
"Loki. You didn't even have PE today."
"Yes, I did."
"No, you didn't."
Loki scowled at Thor's conviction, his lips pressing together into a stubborn line. Although he might have realised that that lie wasn't going to work on Thor, he still wasn't keen on sharing any details. That was fine. Thor could work with that. Loki might not be able to see him very well, but he could feel the weight of Thor's gaze on him, and, after just a few minutes, Loki caved beneath it, his shoulders slumping as he curled into himself.
"Okay, yeah, so it was some idiot who has PE with me. We crossed paths when I was coming into the bathroom after second, and… yeah."
Thor frowned at Loki's vague reply. He wanted to know the guy's name, not what class he shared with his brother or even at what time he'd thought it would be a good idea to beat Loki up. Still, Thor knew he wouldn't be getting any more information on the guy's identity out of Loki. "What's this idiot's issue with you?"
Loki threw him a withering glance. "Is that even a real question?"
Oh, this guy was so going down, Thor might have to give a call to Natasha later this week. She looked like the type to know a good murder spot.
Thor was just going over what options she might suggest (he liked to be prepared) when Loki scoffed, a derisive laugh following in the next breath.
"He's so stupid. He actually thinks I'm into him. As if! I'd never set my eyes on someone like him, but he got it in his head that I'm somehow always looking at him when we're getting changed. He's not even good-looking. His face is full of pimples, ew, and I'm probably way fitter than he is. Seriously, you should look at that pudgy belly of his. Wanna bet he has a small dick too?"
Thor chuckled awkwardly. One, he did not want that picture in his head, and two, he was not in the habit of wondering about that type of thing, so, yeah. Ew was quite right.
"Yeah, he probably does," Thor agreed anyway. "But you know what would be more satisfying? Giving him a good thrashing."
"But you can't, " Loki denied, shaking his head so vehemently that it took Thor by surprise. Why couldn't he? "You can't. If you do, it'll be even worse. Everyone will think I'm just a crybaby that goes to his big brother to solve all his problems."
"That's not—"
"Yes, it is!" Loki insisted. "You'll make everyone hate me!"
Thor huffed in exasperation, annoyed that Loki would deprive them both of their revenge. Still, he did suppose Loki had a bit of a point, so he changed his tactic, waiting until Loki's little, hitching breaths subsided before continuing, "Alright, fair enough. I won't do that. But then you have to do something about it."
"And I have ," Loki argued, lower lip drawn out in a pout. "I have. I've been ignoring him. He'll eventually get bored and go away. Right?"
Thor sighed at his brother's naivety, shaking his head to stop himself from calling Loki stupid or an idiot. Now wasn't the time, so instead he asked, "Yeah, and how's that been working out for you?"
Loki's pout intensified, if such a thing was possible. "So what do you suggest, huh? Other than beating people up?"
Thor ignored the jab at his intellect and, in his best "I'm in charge" voice, said, "You have to talk to your teacher. If this guy's problem is that he thinks you're ogling him or something, then talk to your PE teacher, explain the situation, and ask for a locker change. I'm sure they'll understand. The guy will get in trouble that way too, so that's a bonus."
Huffing, Loki wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them tight against his chest. Other than that, he didn't move. He didn't reply either.
Thor sighed again. "Want me to come with you?"
Loki nodded slowly and, in a tiny, tiny voice, whispered, "Yeah."
"Alright, then. Tomorrow," Thor agreed, hooking Loki's backpack over his shoulder. Then, he rose to his feet and heaved Loki up by the elbow, keeping his grip firm on his brother to help him down the stairs. "Have you been here since school let out?"
"No," Loki mumbled with a slight shake of his head. "I've been here all day. It's not like I could have done much of anything in class anyway, not without my glasses."
Thor winced. However true that might be, the McDonald's down the street was suddenly looking very appetizing.
"Why didn't you call me or something?"
At that, Loki stopped walking, and Thor almost fell on his head down the stairs with his momentum. He looked back at Loki, standing rigidly two stairs back, and watched, with a terrible sense of foreboding, as Loki's trembling hand disappeared in the pocket of his hoodie, then reappeared with his cracked phone grasped tightly in a white-knuckled grip.
"Dad's gonna kill me, isn't he?"
Oh, yes, they were both positively, most definitely dead, but Thor couldn't bring himself to say that, so instead he tried to smile reassuringly, offered his hand to Loki again, and said, "I think we'll manage."
Or so Thor hoped. They were both too old for a whipping.