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Loki watches with annoyance as these Midgardians run, laugh, throw snowballs, fall, and shout battle cries. A pathetic semblance of a battle, and these people call themselves the best heroes of the Earth. And these people once defeated Loki.
Snow is falling from the sky, Wanda spins around, putting her hands in the air, smiling as if she had drunk a barrel of mead, stumbles, falls into a snowdrift, and laughs. What the hell is this? Loki is even disgusted.
"Again, our evil little boy is sitting and frowning," a loud, deep voice comes from behind Loki. He wanted to be alone which is why he sat down at this vacant bench, but of course he should have expected his peace be interrupted eventually. He turns around and gives Thor a suspicious look because sometimes such remarks end up with snow on the back of his neck, but Thor seems harmless. Besides, he has two glasses in his hands.
He steps over to the bench and sits down next to Loki, handing him one of them.
"What's that?" It smells like spices, and Loki eagerly accepts the glass.
"Mulled wine," Thor smiles. "The Midgardians know a thing or two about winter drinks."
The glass is warm, Loki takes a sip, and the delicious spicy liquid immediately spreads heat through his body. It's surprisingly great not that he'd admit it.
"A drink like another," Loki snorts, but takes another sip.
"Then give it back," Thor reaches for his glass, and Loki growls.
"Fuck off!"
In response, a cheerful low laugh is heard, which Loki loves and hates so much at the same time. Thor squints slyly, with the air of the wisest, most confident, and most right-wing ace in the world, as if he had won the position of Heimdall, and now he has no equal in knowing who likes mulled wine and who doesn't. Narcissistic Thunderer ass.
“When you finish drinking, I challenge you to a snowball fight,” Thor proclaims.
“I decline your challenge,” Loki shrugs and takes another sip.
"You can’t, it’s a matter of honor."
"Everyone thinks I have no honor."
"Well, stop being so gloomy, it's Christmas, everyone is alive, well, and happy. Why do you look so sad?"
Loki is sad because he sees how Wanda captures Natasha in a dance, and they seem to be the most in love women in the world, while Loki remains sitting here in the company of this blockhead and feeling sorry for himself.
Thor watches his gaze and exhales softly.
"Oh, I get it."
"Get what?" Loki turns his head to him and raises his eyebrows.
"I know that look, it's a very bad look, it's provoked the biggest conflicts and problems in our family and in the whole universe: You're jealous, Loki!"
Loki rolls his eyes, and Thor moves closer, lowers his voice, and asks softly:
"Which one is it?"
"Which one is what?"
"Which one do you like, of course?"
"None. I'm jealous of what they've got," Loki admits.
"Oh, let's dance," Thor smiles. He nevertheless takes the glass from Loki, puts it with his own on the bench, stands up, holds out his hand, and grins as if he has come up with something ingenious.
"I'm not going to dance with you."
"Loki—" Thor takes him by the arm, pulls him up, and there's nothing left to do but stand up, or this strong man will dislocate his arm.
"My God, I wasn't jealous that they danced, but that they have love!" Loki grumbles, and this blonde idiot is already circling him.
"I love you," Thor deadpans, "and you love me too."
"I don't mean like that!" Loki thinks about stepping on his foot more painfully, but Thor turns him around and shouts.
"Look out!"
He knocks Loki down in the snow, covering him while they are attacked with snowballs.
"It doesn't make sense, you literally dropped me in the snow to save me from snow," Loki remarks. Thor rolls his eyes and continues to bravely defend Loki from the attackers with his broad back. It would have been better to have been protected from his cronies in the Battle of New York. "You're heavy."
Actually, it's a nice heaviness, and Loki kind of likes being in this position, and Thor leans in a little too close, peering into his eyes. Loki thinks for the first time that Thor looks good with heterochromia, and not about the fact that it makes him look like a jerk.
"You've really done it," Loki declares.
"And what are you going to do? Are you going to take over New York?"
Loki reaches up and kisses him quickly, right on the lips, as if it's OK, and that they're not brothers at all. Thor is lost and doesn't respond, but when Loki pulls away, Thor's face lights up with a big smile.
"Merry Christmas," Loki whispers.
"What did Stark add to that mulled wine that made you drunk?"
"First of all, I'm not drunk, and secondly, did you trust Stark to cook something?!"
"Who else? Not you."
Loki shoves Thor off of him and immediately gets a snowball in the face from Clint. That would be very painful even for an Asgardian, but not for a Jötunn.
"Oops, that was an accident," Clint says, but Loki would never believe that this archer was off target. Loki shakes off the snow, clenches his fists, and moves towards his future victim.
He is caught from behind by strong hands. He elbows the obtuse scoundrel, but the scoundrel only grins and kisses him on the cheek.
"Loki, it's Christmas, let's not have an apocalypse."
Loki sighs and mutters. "All right. But only for today. You'll still get it from me later!"
Peter rushes by with a huge tire and shouts that he is first. In fact, no one is running after him, and no matter what he wants to be first in, he is clearly the only contender for this type of entertainment.
Clint and Bruce switch with a snow attack on Natasha and Wanda. Loki turns to Thor and says:
"You know, I don't envy them anymore."
"I told you I loved you."
"But I still want a normal kiss."
"And how was that one abnormal?"
"Oh, well, if it was normal for you, then I never want to kiss you again."
"I'll kiss you so hard that you'll die of delight!"
"Am I going to die?"
"Yes," Thor takes him firmly by the shoulders and presses him on the lips with a kiss so demanding that Loki feels hot in this Midgardian sub-zero weather. Dazed, he wraps his arms around Thor, opens his mouth, responds, forgets for a second where they are, and feels a strange sensation mixed with disbelief come over him, which seems to be the promised delight.
Thor's lips taste like mulled wine, soft, his beard is not prickly at all, though wet with snow, and his arms hold him so tightly that he doesn't want to go anywhere.
And when Thor pulls away, Loki is speechless.
"I know it was amazing," Thor whispers, "but don't die, please?"
Loki laughs and nods.
"I'm not going to die. I want many, many more kisses from you."
"We can do more than just kiss," Thor smirks. Loki raises an eyebrow, pulls away, bends down for a handful of snow, and a second later a snowball flies at Thor. What has that foolish fool gotten him into? Thor willingly joins the battle, and now they themselves look like wild Midgardians. It's a shame, but Loki is having fun. Besides, he can finally beat Thor and not get punished for it - his life long dream.
And while they're fooling around, everything seems strangely beautiful. But only half an hour ago Loki hated everything and everyone.