au where loki is a stuck-up, pretentious author who moves to an old fixer-upper in the country to get “perspective” and hires thor to do some repairs. cue loki thirsting over him for weeks and thor purposely taking his shirt off at the right moments, and loki doing embarrassingly domestic things like making him lemonade. and he gets so frustrated because his novel is supposed to be a moody drama but it’s turning into a cheesy harlequin romance & very obviously channeling his thirst for the handyman. so, naturally, they fuck to get it out of loki’s system. but then it happens again, and again, and again, and three months down the road thor still hasn’t fixed the back deck.
“Loki,” Thor begins with his mouth still half full of food, “do you remember when we got married on that little Alfheim pleasure planet?”
Loki nods. “You were rather drunk.”
“Right. Did we ever nullify it?” Thor swallows the last of his food and rinses it down with juice.
Loki stops and then drops his fork. “Fuck.”
Thor chuckles and tosses a small box to him. “Happy three-hundred-twenty-seventh anniversary, brother.”
Loki raises an eyebrow and opens the box, biting back a smile when he sees a ring set with a wide, twisting band of braided black gold with a Marquis cut emerald from Jotunheim.
He slips it onto his right index finger and admires it a moment. “And the other three-hundred-twenty-six anniversaries?”
Thor grins wide. “Get me a gift and then we can discuss arrears, husband.”
Loki slips on his best, sharpest smile. “Are you sure you want to play a game like this with me?”
Lightning dances over Thor’s tongue as he licks lips. “Of course. It’s a perfect game for a pair of kings.”
Visceral, brutal joy fills Loki’s chest and he allows his smile to slip away to something genuine. It’s honest in a way only Thor is allowed to see. What a good game this will be.
So @kingloptr put the idea of Thunderfrostiron in my head and I started writing a thing, but then THIS little ditty popped into my mind and I couldn’t not.
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“Goddamnit!”
Bruce glanced over, mild and placid as ever in the face of such dramatics. “Tony, what’s eatin’ you?”
“I’ll tell you what’s eatin’ me. Jarvis discovered that Tall, Dark and Stormy have been playing hide the hammer in my goddamn suite!” Tony whirled to face him, letting the tablet clatter to the worktable in disgust. “Yeah. Just let that sink in. What the hell am I supposed to do about this? Call Fury? Tell their mom? Film it and put it on the Internet?”
“Huh.” Bruce looked perturbed, but not for any of the right reasons. “Is that really what you’re calling them? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s funny…”
Tony leveled him with a glare. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Bruce considered this question with the gravity it deserved, before hesitantly offering, “ThoLo?”
Tony sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Thou only livest once?” He snorted, then added, “And when thou livest upwards of several millennia, thou might as well schtup thy psychotic little brother? Right.”
Bruce grimaced. “Maybe it’s not that weird for aliens? I mean, we don’t really know anything about the Asgardians, when it comes down to it. Who knows what else they get up to.” He didn’t sound terribly convinced of his own words.
Tony gave a disbelieving huff, spinning petulantly in his chair. “They’d just better not break the bed. I didn’t exactly reinforce that room with magnitude 8.5 earthquakes in mind.” He paused, realizing that wasn’t entirely true. “At least, none with the epicenter on the goddamn mattress.”
Bruce’s eyes widened, as if the mechanics of the situation had just finally sunk in. “I can’t talk about this anymore.”
Tony’s lips pressed tight together as he picked up his tablet, resigned to stewing about the problem alone. Bruce turned back to his papers. A few minutes slipped by in silence.
“What about ‘Thorlok?’ Cuz one of them’s a wizard.”
Loki is the Philosopher King 