Loki has nearly finished stuffing the contents of his closet into a bag when he hears the front door, and his stomach lurches once again. He’d meant to be gone by the time Thor got home, but obviously that isn’t happening now.
“Loki?” his brother shouts down the hall, but his tone gives no hint of whether Loki is about to have his ass beaten, or worse, if he’s about to receive some sort of sad, pitying look.
For the thousandth time in the last hour, he curses himself and that one stupid, misdirected text.
“Loki, where—oh,” Thor says from his bedroom door, and, oh look. Pity and regret it is… until Thor realizes that he’s packing, that is, and puts on his I’m-older-than-you-and-therefore-in-charge face, asking, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What’s it look like?” Loki mutters. He can come back for the rest later, he decides, and pulls the strap of his bag up over his shoulder. Thor’s halfway blocking his exit, but Loki has always been faster than him, and he slips by before Thor can do more than glare at him.
“Hey!”
He should’ve run for the door, though, because Thor ducks through the kitchen and cuts him off, and then it’s all 6-foot-3 of his brother’s considerable mass between him and the way out of this mess and their shared apartment.
“So that’s it?” Thor demands. “You’re leaving? You aren’t even going to talk to me?”
He’d rather not, thanks.
“You know I have to,” Loki says instead.
“Why? Because you’re in love with me?”
Loki can’t help but wince at hearing it out loud.
“Can you even admit it, Loki? Go on, look me in the eye and tell me you love me. Say it, and I’ll move.”
Thor’s staring him down, jaw set, and just for a moment, Loki hates him for this. It’s only superficial, he knows, and that’s part of his problem. But if that’s what it takes…
He might as well do it properly, he thinks, meeting Thor’s gaze and steeling himself. “I love you, Thor,” he says, as steadily as he can, “and I’m sorry for that. Now get out of the way.”
Thor nods once, and says, “No.”
Perhaps Loki was mistaken. Maybe he really does hate him after all, he thinks.
“You said you’d let me go!” he complains, and Thor shakes his head.
“No, I said I would move.”
And then he does—forward, to take Loki’s face in his hands and bring their lips together.
When they part, Loki’s glad that Thor still has ahold of him, since the room suddenly seems to be spinning. But then Thor speaks up, a blinding grin on his face.
It was early in the morning when the two parties met at the border between Jotunheim and Asgard. The sun was just beginning to rise and the snow sparkled under it’s weak beams. There was a beautiful harshness to the scene, something that would be captured later in paintings and sketches.
Thor came with his attendants, with an entourage of servants. They came on horse back, each and every one of them. There was even a scribe there, hastily recording this historic moment for future sagas and to report back to the King.
Thor’s betrothed arrived escorted by soldiers.
Between the towering figures of his guards, he looked even smaller and younger than Thor knew him to be.
Thor smiled at him.
Loki scowled back.
Thor wondered how he would feel if he was in Loki’s place, if he was the one being made to leave his homeland. Loki was only fourteen, a child really, although Thor was not much older than him at seventeen. It was cruel to put so much on their shoulders, to require them to unite their Kingdoms and bring a stop to an unwinnable war.
Thor had only seen Loki once before, when their betrothal was announced. Loki had bared his fangs at him then. He did it again now.
It would have been frightening on a full-grown Jotun.
On Loki it was oddly endearing.
He reminded Thor of a kitten trying to defend itself. Loki postured, attempting to intimidate him, but he did not have the bulk or the ferocity to pull it off. Thor suspected that was the reason they had been betrothed to each other. Loki was a Jotun runt. No Asgardian would find him fearsome.
Loki took a step towards the boundary, but a large hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him.
One of his guards spoke in a low voice, his words lost to Thor.
Loki’s eyes widened and the color drained from his face. He shook his head, but the guard’s grip only tightened, fingers digging in.
“What’s happening?” Thor asked quietly, turning his head to direct his question to Sif.
She stood beside him, her face stoic.
Thor was supposed to accept Loki here at the border and escort him back to Asgard. That was what Thor knew. Loki was coming to live with them, to stay in Asgard until he came of age, then he and Thor would marry. That was the plan as Thor understood it, but looking at Sif’s face, he realized that there was something of this plan he had not been told.
“Prince Loki is leaving all of Jotunheim behind,” she said, keeping her eyes trained on the horizon.
Thor looked back at Loki in confusion. The meaning behind Sif’s words dawned on him as he saw Loki resignedly removing his clothing, his movements slow and his fingers trembling.
Loki was to cross over the border naked, to come to Thor in subjugation.
Thor felt bile rise in his throat. He could not imagine being in Loki’s place, could not imagine having all these people watching his humiliation, having one of them recording it for the ages. Thor knew it would have been his own father who requested this, who would have insisted on humbling the Jotun Prince.
Loki couldn’t come to Thor as an equal. Odin had seen to that. He had ensured that with this one action he stripped Loki of his standing. This would be the story people would tell of the day Prince Loki crossed the border to Asgard.
Thor found himself shaking.
Furious, unthinking, he reached for the clasp of his cloak.
“Thor!” Sif hissed at him, but he didn’t listen.
It was freezing and Thor’s shaking now had more to do with the cold than rage, but he undressed, leaving Sif with his clothes and walked across the border to join Loki’s side.
Loki looked up at him with wide eyes, taking in all of him. Thor hoped he approved of what he saw.
“I would not ask my future husband to do anything I would not do myself,” he said, offering his hand to Loki.
He pointedly did not look at Loki’s own nude form. He kept his eyes trained on Loki’s face.
Shyly, Loki placed his hand in Thor’s.
They crossed the border together, hand in hand, naked and smiling; Thor a beaming smile that threatening to out do the weak morning sun, Loki a smaller, softer smile, but one that Thor still noted all the same.
When they reached the Asgardian side, Thor took his cloak from Sif and throw it around Loki’s shoulders, hiding him from the assembly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and pitched for Loki alone to hear.
Loki tugged the cloak tight around him, watching Thor with his large, dark eyes. There were no bared teeth now, no sneers. He seemed awed and Thor found himself warmed despite the chill of the snow under his feet.
**
Odin berated Thor until the windows rattled and the ground shook, but Thor did not care.
He knew his father had wanted to make Loki a symbol, to show the other realms that Asgard had gained mastery over the proud Jotuns, but Thor was not interesting in playing his father’s games.
He was the one who Loki would be married to and he would not have Loki made to feel like a conquered prize.
Their marriage would be a partnership, not a battlefield.
Five thousand years is a long time to be brothers.
They fought, they loved, they swore oaths of hatred and alliance. They always found their way back to each other.
-*-
The first time he noticed, they were lying in bed together. He was combing his brother’s perfect golden hair, considering what braid would cause the most political upheaval, and there it was.
A single grey strand.
He grinned, and considered teasing his brother, but decided to save it up for later use. Thor was so proud of his hair! Loki hoped he greyed early, and had to envy Loki’s dark waves!
-*-
The second time, hundreds of years later, they were in battle.
They were locked together, pushing their blades against each other’s strength, snarling curses. And suddenly Loki noticed signs of aging on Thor’s skin. Not wrinkles, precisely, not yet, but… aging.
He stared into his mirror that night.
Perhaps he did look a bit older himself. Maybe. Well, time passed. Even gods were not immune.
-*-
Thor was grey, but no less mighty, when he stormed in on Loki, in his lab deep under Asgard.
“What are you doing, brother!”
Loki had taken almost half of the golden apple seeds. He needed them. He needed to make something stronger of them.
He shouted at Thor that true immortality could be had. Thor had roared at him to give up such an arrogant ambition; their time passed, as all’s did! They had fought. Loki had been forced to flee.
But he did not give up his goal. Every time he looked in a mirror, he saw again his motivation.
-*-
Asgardians lived five thousand years.
It seemed such a long time. It wasn’t.
Everyone else had been sent away. These last moments were for the brothers alone. Thor lay on his bed, grey and fading. Loki lay his head on his chest, weeping, cursing him.
Young, and vital.
“You can’t. You cannot die. Please, brother! You cannot leave me here! I’ll do terrible things, I will destroy the realms, I swear I will!”
three Lokis, three Thors, three very different hugs 😉
Please forgive me, I had to write a small thing for this beautiful triptych!!!
______________
Loki sits astride Thor and digs his fingers through his long, golden hair. What a thrill even that small touch is, to be allowed to do this to his brother. It makes sense, now, why he’s so overwhelmed by the rest of it: the way their bared skin feels where they press together, the endless terrain of Thor’s body to be mapped by his hands, the look in those beloved eyes as Thor stares up at him. Thor’s hands clasp him close, bringing him down even more firmly in Thor’s lap.
Loki feels a small twinge of jealousy in his chest, like being pelted with freezing rain. His brother’s touch is so assured, so practiced, that this could not be the first time he’s held a lover to him.
"You’re an old hand at this, then?“ Loki whispers in his brother’s ear even as he pulls at Thor’s hair, tipping his head back. “How many have been in this bed before me?“
Thor looks at him with that damned honest confusion. He’s as clear as a forest stream, letting Loki see right through him. “Why do you ask such a thing?”
"Well.“ Loki let’s his thin sleeping robe slip from his shoulders. Thor’s hands help it along. "Here I am at last, and you act as if you’ve had me like this a dozen times. Not a tremor in your hands. It makes me wonder."
"Oh, Loki.” Thor cranes his neck up to kiss him, another new thrill that Loki cannot refuse. When they part, Thor is smiling. “I have been holding you all our lives. Of course I’ve become very good at it."
And Loki, pleased with this explanation, allows his brother to prove his claim. Very thoroughly.
OH MY GOOOOOOOOOODS!!! This! THIS! I was literally scrolling tumblr with tears in my eyes cause everything sucks right now and then I see this! You made my day 300% better and I love this so much!!!
Thank you 🙂 No one has ever written a thing inspired by my silly art <333
I’ve never seen anything like the way you handled that. I’m just so moved.
It’s not the first time some assholes have hassled him after the show. There are always guys who don’t get it, who are frightened by Loki and everything he is. They always wait for him to be alone.
Loki can roll with the punches and he gives as good as he gets. He learned to fight from his mother and sister and he fights to draw blood – nails scratching, pulling hair, kicking the legs out from under the bastards who only think with their fists. Loki fights fast and he fights dirty because he knows he’s cornered.
One of them grabs hold of his arms, pinning them to his sides and another strikes him across the jaw. Loki knows it’s going to bruise, but he licks the blood on his now split-lip and smiles.
“That all you got?” he asks.
His mother could never teach him when to back down.
The guy draws his fist back, readying himself for another punch and Loki hopes the guy will be happy with just breaking his nose or giving him a black eye.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The voice that interrupts them is like thunder. It is awe-inspiring and complete silence follows it.
Loki turns his head, just to catch sight of the guy.
He’s thick, built, with long blonde hair and miles and miles of tanned skin. He should be in a gym, or on the cover of a fitness magazine, not standing under a streetlight watching two guys fuck up Loki’s make-up and his face.
Loki feels dread build in his stomach.
This guy isn’t going to stop what’s happening. He might even join in.
“I said, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man repeats, his words coming out a growl.
He moves fast.
Loki hears a snap – bones breaking – and then the man who punched him his howling in pain. His friend lets go of Loki and Loki ducks away from trouble, just far enough to watch his blonde hero headbutt the guy in the face and knock him out cold.
“We need to get out of here,” he says, tugging at his hero’s arm. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, but we need to get out of here.”
The guy nods. He looks dazed. Loki isn’t sure if it’s from the headbutt or if he’s just realized he fought two men – committed assault – to protect a complete stranger.
Loki hates himself for wearing boots that have such a spiked heel. It makes running so much harder.
“I’m Thor,” his hero says, jogging beside Loki as if this is simply leisurely for him.
“Loki,” says Loki. He’s feels breathless.
“Oh, I know,” Thor says. “I really like your band.”
Loki glances at him, a smile stretching his sore mouth.
“You like Glam Rock?”
“Well, I like you,” Thor says. “Hey, where are we going?”
“Back to mine,” Loki says, grabbing hold of Thor’s hand so he can hold it while they run.
Loki Gasped ( by special request for the incredible and talented @satanssyn-n-things.)
Loki lay spent, his body quivering ever so softly even now.
Thor was draped over him, grace and strength, watching him intently, one of his large hands stroking alone Loki’s jaw, his blue eyes focused on his flushed, exhausted face. Tears of their passion lingered in Loki’s eyes, clung to his thick lashes and his mouth was kiss swollen, red because of Thor’s attention to it.
He glowed as he lay over Loki, his body pinned Loki’s down, pressing him into the bedding so all Loki felt was Thor, nothing else. He raised his eyes to Thor’s, seeing the words even before he spoke them.
“You know I love this face you make” Thor whispered against Loki’s collarbone, igniting yet more passion within him again “the face you make just after you’ve come. It’s like you’re suffering, but you want more of it”
He kissed his neck and felt his pulse jump to meet his warm mouth.
“And I will give you more” Thor promised, writing a trail of passion down Loki’s chest, his belly and to the trembling thighs that glistened and tensed as Thor lowered his head to please Loki once more.
“You just stay where you are” Thor ordered as his hands held Loki’s thighs and parted them once more for his tongue.
He did not set out to seduce Odin’s son. Thor came to him and Loki was weak-willed and powerless in the face of such desire.
No one would refuse Thor.
Thor found him in Iðunn’s orchard and Loki fast forgot the mischief that had brought him there when Thor’s needs became apparent.
Thor cannot take an
æsir
man, cannot make him ergi, but Loki is different. Loki has always been ergi and there is no shame in the son of Odin taking Loki.
Thor’s cock is thick and long, and Loki’s fingers do not quite meet around its girth. Thor is nervous, troubled that he will not fit, but Loki sinks down hungrily, swallowing Thor’s cock deep in his tight hole with very little resistance.
He rides Thor like that, head thrown back, as the branches of the apple trees dapple light over them.
“Do you like it?” Thor asks him, his fingers stroking over Loki’s hips, light and gentle. “Loki, do you?”
“Yes,” Loki gasps, so full that he knows he will crave this again, that he will seek his satisfaction from Thor over and over if the man is willing. He cups Thor’s face in his hands and presses a messy kiss to his mouth. “You are good, Thor. You are very good. You please me.”
Loki is the Philosopher King 