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Thor takes a deep breath, pressing himself further into the shadows at one end of the little practice yard. The sun beats down on the open space in front of him, and even though Thor is hidden in darkness, he has to raise a hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. His stomach clenches in sympathetic exhaustion as he looks out to where Loki pants in the center of the yard.

Loki tore off his tunic almost half an hour ago, and now he stands in just a thin undershirt, his pale skin glistening with sweat as he arches his back. He has a hand braced against the small of his back, taking a moment to stretch.

Thor has been watching him for an hour now. He hasn’t seen Loki in a week and a half, and now, standing so close to him, he feels as though he’s taking a drink of clear water after days in the desert, filling himself with the sweet taste, and letting it run through his veins, bringing him back to life. It has been more and more like this lately. The longer he holds himself away, telling himself that Loki is not his to watch, and admire, and desire, the more desperate he feels when he finally gives in and spends time with Loki again.

Not that they’re spending time together right now. Thor blushes as Loki pulls his hand away from his back, shaking black hair away from his face. A green glow has started to surround Loki’s fingers again. Loki chews on his lip, his eyes narrowing in concentration, and Thor shakes himself when he finds that he’s mirrored Loki, his own lip caught between his teeth.

Loki runs his hands through the air, and a trail of green witch light hangs in their wake. He draws a circle, then reaches out and grabs the shimmering rope of seidr, working it between his hands. As Thor watches, Loki’s chest begins to rise and fall more quickly, sweat springing out on his temples. His eyes glitter, the green in them that of the storm-wracked sea, nothing like the eerie light that plays between his fingers.

It is incredible, the contrast of colors. Loki’s skin is pale as the moon, and black leather clings to his hips and thighs. The only color about him is green, the only marker that he is not a carven statue somehow brought to life, somehow imbued with breath so as to make Thor lose his.

Because lose his, Thor does. He always does, watching his brother. Standing here, he rolls his shoulders back, shaking his head. The motion must catch Loki’s eye, because he glances over to the end of the yard. For a moment, he stares into the shadows. Thor’s breath catches in his throat. Loki, though, only raises an eyebrow and goes back to work.

Thor’s body floods with the coolness of relief. He wouldn’t want to distract Loki from his training, or somehow make this place unwelcoming. That’s why he’s here, after all. To watch Loki train, to see what his little brother has been up to, what advances he has made in his studies. That’s all he’s up to, of course.

He nods more carefully now, glad to have reminded himself of that. The tightness of his pants and the heat of the day had made him forget for a moment. He watches as Loki squats down to tug a loose strand of his weaving. Loki’s trousers cling to his ass, riding low, exposing the dimples at the base of his spine. They look just the same size as Thor’s thumbs.

Thor swallows heavily. Before he really registers what he’s doing, he presses a hand to the front of his own trousers, and has to bite back a sigh of relief. His cock is almost throbbing, and even the rough push of his hand against it brings a momentary respite. Loki stands again, letting the strands of seidr slip from his fingers. He walks around the gleaming woven form of magic. His chest is heaving now, and Thor wonders absently what spell Loki has just created.

He doesn’t wonder for too long, though, because Loki is stretching again, bending over to touch his toes with his ass facing Thor. Every muscle in his long legs is outlined by his trousers, and his boots hug his calves closely enough that Thor can make out the shape of those as well. Loki groans, sweat dripping from his forehead to the ground.

Thor presses back into the corner. His own hand has slipped inside his trousers, and wrapped itself around his cock without his consent. He glances down at it chidingly, but it feels too good to stop, not while Loki is out there whimpering with every moment that his stretch deepens.

Precome leaks over Thor’s fingers, and Thor bites his tongue hard, starting to jack himself for real. He knows that once this is over, he’ll run and hide, avoid Loki for another week, and bury himself in his own training, trying not to feel the sick squirm in his belly every time he looks at his brother. But for now, he’s desperate and aching, and there’s nothing to be done but stroke himself, staring at Loki, watching Loki twist and bend in the bright son.

Thor comes with a muffled whine, biting hard enough on his tongue that he tastes blood. In the yard, Loki straightens up. For a moment, Thor’s heart pounds, and he wonders if Loki heard anything. But then Loki simply waves a hand over his weaving, dispersing the spell. He sighs loudly.

Thor bolts from the courtyard as fast as he can, not looking back.

***

After the most recent incident in the training yards, Thor has stayed outside the palace grounds. He told his parents he’s on a trip to test his woodsmanship, even though it’s been years since those sorts of tests had any value to him. Odin had nodded, and congratulated Thor on wanting to stay sharp and ready for anything. Frigga had only agreed, her eyes warm and full of concern. Thor had laughed then, throwing his arms around her and telling her not to worry, he’d only be gone a few days.

It’s been five.

The itch has started under his skin again. He thought, perhaps, that being out here would calm it. He thought that maybe the quiet of the woods, the soft patter of rain against his skin and the long embrace of night would be enough to silence the voice inside him that is screaming for him to return to the palace, to slip into Loki’s room and wrap arms tight around Loki, never letting him go.

It isn’t enough.

It will never be enough, Thor knows that. No matter where he goes, no matter how much he distracts himself with new partners in his bed and long drinks of mead, they will never satisfy him. There is some knot twisted up inside him that only unwinds when Loki is around.

Thor’s shoulders tighten, and his fingers clench on Mjolnir’s haft. Perhaps it truly is a knot. Perhaps there is some little bit of seidr screwed up deep inside him that has made him feel like this.

He swings Mjolnir absently, his throat tightening on the idea. He cannot imagine who would be so cruel as to curse him with this sickness. The way his trousers always get tight when Loki walks by in nothing more than a thin tunic. The way Loki’s throat works at a feast, the slow bob of it making Thor feel lightheaded. The shake of Thor’s hands when Loki brushes narrow, delicate fingers across them. It’s all so much, and no one would be so evil as to dream up this horrible corruption.

Thor grits his teeth, swinging Mjolnir more emphatically now. No, this is no working of magic, no thing that has been done to him. This is all inside him, all of his own making. He slams Mjolnir against a heavy boulder, shattering it into a million shards of sharp rock. One flies up past him, slicing across his cheekbone. Thor growls as his cheek stings with unexpected pain.

Blood is already seeping across his face, oozing out of the cut and running down fast enough that a few drops fall on the dirt in front of him. Thor ignores it, though, swinging Mjolnir again. He wants his muscles to ache. He wants to fall into his bedroll tonight and be so tired that he cannot dream.

His dreams are full of Loki. When he closes his eyes, he sees his brother in front of him. He’s haunted by visions of Loki curling up next to him, wrapping his arms around Thor’s wide shoulders, settling in Thor’s lap, pressing his lips to Thor’s temple.

Thor smashes another boulder, his frustration mounting. This one explodes away from him, sparks flying. He must have hit a vein of flint or quartz. Thor watches them flicker up into the rapidly darkening sky. His body has started getting tense, his whole being humming with electricity. The clouds above him have gathered into a thick blanket, and thunder rumbles somewhere far away.

He has always been like this. Both quick to anger, and sick inside. He cannot remember a time when he did not think his brother beautiful. As children, it was an envious feeling - he was always so big and bumbling, Loki so poised and delicate. It only got worse when they started becoming adults. Where Thor gained weight and height with ferocious abandon, his whole body seeming to double in size within a few years, Loki only stretched and bent gracefully, and suddenly he had the body of a man, narrow hips and perfect shoulders a taunt every time Thor caught him in the bath.

Worse yet, Loki has no shame. Thor swings the hammer again, and this time, energy crackles around it. Loki still invites Thor to bathe with him, as they did as children. Loki still walks half dressed around Thor’s rooms, fiddling with little things here and there in a halfhearted attempt to annoy his brother. Loki combs his hair out where Thor can see, running his hands through the long black locks with no regard to how much Thor wants to touch them. It’s maddening.

Thor’s panting now. It takes no thought to raise Mjolnir to the sky, to pull lightening down and rent his frustration in a blast of energy and light. The clearing explodes around him.

When the brightness fades away, a few trees lie in smoking ruins, and Thor’s cock is hard in his trousers. He sinks to his knees, throwing Mjolnir away from him. His hands slam into the dirt, his hair falling around his face as he breathes hard. He cannot run away from this. There is no chance. This thing, this thing with Loki, it is woven into the very fabric of his being. There is no escape from himself.

***

Thor shifts on his chair. His mother had looked him over with a critical eye when he finally came back from the forest, but had said nothing about the deep cut across his cheek. Loki had taken one look at him and laughed, asking if something had finally bested the great Thor.

“Only my own temper,” Thor had replied, blushing. Loki had laughed, but traced his finger across Thor’s burning cheek, healing the wound with a few short motions. Thor’s whole body burned then, caught by his brother’s soft touch. It hadn’t lasted though. Loki had turned from him then, leaving Thor panting and desperate in the hall, laughing as he walked away.

Now Thor doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not that his brother is late to the feast. It’s some celebration of a new trade agreement with Muspelheim, one that Thor doesn’t know the details of and hardly cares about. By the time he becomes king, this agreement will have inevitably fallen prey to the dwarves’ changeable tempers, and a new one brokered in its place.

He glances around, trying futilely not to let his friends catch him searching the hall. Sif has already asked him twice about what’s bothering him so much. He’s saved from having to explain himself, though, when Loki steps onto the dais.

Loki has his hair caught up with a golden chain, and the same gold falls about his throat in graceful loops. He’s put aside his leathers for a carefully fitted tunic and jacket of green and black, and his cape falls from carefully wrought golden clasps in the form of snakes. His trousers, though, are the same tight black leather as they always are, and Thor’s mouth waters as sees how closely they fit around Loki’s slim thighs.

He’s standing up before he notices what he’s doing, as though Loki were a favored maiden come to sit beside him. Loki only raises an eyebrow, slipping into the seat next to Thor and sneering as Thor falls back into his chair with a sigh.

“Are you trying to impress someone?” Thor asks, the words harsher than he meant them to be.

“And why would you ask that, brother? Do I look so beautiful that even you cannot fail to notice” Loki replies, his voice soft as silk. He pours himself a goblet of mead as Thor splutters.

“I only…” Thor starts as soon as he gets control of his breathing. “I only meant you do not usually dress in such finery for celebrations of trade deals.”

“So you do not think I look good?” Loki asks. His eyelids flutter, and his lips purse. It’s a show, Thor knows it’s a show, but it’s effective all the same. He finds himself reaching out to cradle Loki’s neck in his huge palm, just as he has done to calm his brother for as long as he can remember.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Loki,” he murmurs. “I just…”

Loki laughs, shaking off Thor’s hand. He busies himself with some of the cheeses and meats laid out for the first course. Thor turns back to his own plate, trying to hide his blush by biting into the wing of some bird unlucky enough to have been caught by the King’s last hunting party. Across from him, Fandral laughs at something Sif has just hissed in his ear.

The food is almost tasteless. Thor makes his way through the first course without enjoying anything. He sips too much mead, and takes little bites of the boar that’s set down on the table during the second course.

He can’t stop glancing at the thin strip of skin at Loki’s throat. His brother's training leathers come up so much higher than this, and Loki’s ceremonial armor covers him from head to toe, just as Thor’s does. There is something tantalizing about this, almost worse than when Loki walks about their shared bathing room without a shirt. This is out where anyone can see, where anyone can catch the pale flash of his skin and the hollow of Loki’s throat.

Thor shifts on his seat again, his stomach tensing. No one else ought to be looking. Loki is not some pretty thing to be ogled by the court.

“Uncomfortable, brother?” Loki asks, turning to Thor and smirking. “Did you fall on your ass one too many times in training today?”

“No!” Thor retorts, his answer coming too fast as he tries to spread his legs wide enough to hide the thickening of his cock. Loki raises an eyebrow.

“Oh ho, you did, didn’t you?” He crows. “Lady Sif, I see you bested my brother today!”

Sif looks over to them, to where Thor is squirming, red faced, and Loki is leaning in conspiratorially. “I’m sure I would have, if he’d actually bothered to show up.”

Loki purses his lips, his eyes gleaming. “So it isn’t training that has you so uncomfortable, brother. I wonder, then.”

Thor takes a sip of mead, busying himself with his cup so that he need not respond.

“Thor, can it be?” Loki asks, his voice going high and teasing. “Can it be that the great Thor’s ass is sore for a different reason?” He leans in, and his lips brush against Thor’s ear as he whispers. “Can it be that my brave brother got a tumble last night?”

Thor spits out mead as he chokes. It is uncomfortably close to the truth, and his cock twitches at the thought of his ass leaking and sore, at the image of himself fucked out on a bed, exhausted by Loki’s relentless teasing. He swallows hard.

“I’ve hit close to the truth, haven’t I?” Loki whispers in wonder. “But not quite on the target. Could you not find anyone to take you, Thor? Did you have to do the fucking yourself?”

Thor rocks to his feet, his whole body shaking. A single glance down the table shows him that Frigga has already retired, and thus it is safe for him to bolt out of the hall, trailed by Loki’s soft laughter.

He pauses in the corridor leading to his rooms, panting as he leans against the wall, his cock still uncomfortably hard. His skin tingles where Loki’s lips brushed against it, and his chest heaves. Thor runs a hand across his face and when he pulls it away, Loki is just down the hall from him, his coat flapping behind him as he walks.

“Did I scare you away from the feast, Thor?” He asks when he comes up level to Thor.

Thor shakes his head mutely, afraid if he opens his mouth something will come out that he regrets.

“I did not think you so easily shaken,” Loki says, reaching out and setting his hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Unlike in the feasting hall, Loki’s voice has gone soft and serious, the hiss of a tease all but gone. Still, Thor shifts uncomfortably under Loki’s hand. With his brother, it is ever hard to know.

“Come to think of it,” Loki continues, “I haven’t heard you for weeks. Is that what has you so on edge, Thor? Have you lost your way with the ladies... and the lads?”

Thor blushes, twisting in Loki’s grip. It is uncomfortably close to the truth, yet again. He has not had anyone in his bed in weeks, not since he had to bite back Loki’s name while fucking deep into a dark-haired member of the Einherjar.

Loki digs his fingers into Thor’s shoulders. “Shh, Thor. I didn’t not know my arrows flew so true.” The tease is all gone from his voice now. Loki’s eyes are wide, pools of clear water in a mossy glade.

Thor reaches out, cupping the back of Loki’s neck. “Think nothing of it, brother,” he manages to get out in a level voice, slumping a little. All the rest of his energy is spent on not drawing Loki closer to him.

“Then you will return to the feast? It is dull without you there.”

“I...” Thor tears himself away from Loki, turning towards his chambers. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morn.” He tosses over his shoulder, just managing to keep himself at a walk as he hurried away from the feel of his brother’s skin.

***

Thor’s fingers slip against the smooth skin just behind his balls, dripping with sweet oil. He presses a little harder, whimpering when pleasure sparks across his hips and up his spine. He’s been teasing himself for long minutes, stroking his hands over his chest and belly, across the corded ridges of muscle along his thighs. Now, his fingers finally slicked up and his cock leaking, Thor is ready.

The caress of one finger over his asshole has him biting his lip. He circles it with his middle finger, his thumb resting just behind his balls and the rest of his fingers trembling against his thighs. Thor draws in a deep breath, clenching his stomach to stop himself from pushing roughly in and taking himself hard and fast.

He doesn’t want that right now. It’s been days since he’s even touched his cock, not since before the feast where he had run away from Loki. He’s buried himself in training, spend every moment he isn’t in the practice yards with Sif or the warriors three at his father’s side, trying to learn the art of being king. It hasn’t been enough, though, not by a long shot. At night, Thor falls into his bed, exhausted, and lulls himself to sleep by hugging a pillow to his chest, imagining it to be Loki. In the morning, he slides into his place next to his brother and takes a deep breath, filling himself up with Loki’s familiar smell. He can hardly think of anything else but his brother, no matter how he distracts himself.

So tonight, after he’d supped with his family on wild hen and fresh fruit from Frigga’s garden, he’d made his way back to his rooms alone, claiming that a long day had him longing in turn for his bed. If trying to push his desire away hasn’t worked, perhaps appeasing it will do the trick.

He slips the tip of his finger inside himself. His thighs tremble for a moment as his body struggles to open up. It’s been too long since he worked himself open, and as much as he aches for it, the intrusion is unfamiliar. Thor lets his eyes slip shut. He spreads his legs wider as he calls up a favorite fantasy. His ass looses a little as he imagines Loki pushing inside him, and Thor manages to slide his finger further in.

Loki would straddle him on the bed, his hands flat on Thor’s chest. He’d lean in to brush a kiss against the side of Thor’s neck, but then pull away too fast for Thor to return it. Thor writhes a little as he imagines how Loki’s eyes would sparkle.

“Impatient, brother,” Thor imagines Loki whispering. “But don’t worry. I’ll fuck you soon. I know you need it. You’ve been leaking all over yourself from just the thought of my cock inside you.”

Thor moans, pressing another finger against his hole as he squirms on the mattress. He can almost hear the hiss of Loki’s voice in his ear, feel the way Loki’s nails would dig into the meat of his chest. Loki couldn’t keep him pinned on the mattress, of course, but that doesn’t mean Thor would try to fight him off, or roll them over to stop Loki’s teasing. That is, after all, part of the appeal.

The idea that his brother would bring him close to the edge, build up the pleasure until Thor was begging and crying for it, and then take Thor apart with a well timed twist of his hips, well that’s an idea Thor has come to far more times than he’d like to admit. Loki’s laughter, the sly twitch of his lips, the way he smirks when he’s played a particularly well thought out trick, those are the things that Thor wants.

He pushes the second finger inside himself. If Loki were doing this, opening Thor up, his fingers would be narrower, more delicate, more careful in their probing. Thor doesn’t have either the patience or the ability to mimic that. He wishes he did though. It would be so good, if he could make himself feel as though Loki was curling his fingers up against Thor’s prostate, straddling Thor’s thighs as Thor panted and squirmed on the bed, just as he’s doing now.

Thor fists his other hand in the sheets, balling them up as his cock jumps against his belly. He wonders if Loki would touch his cock. He can see Loki leaning down, breathing across the head as Thor begs him for more. Loki would kiss the little soft curve of Thor’s stomach that hasn’t quite disappeared yet. He’d drag his lips across Thor’s hips, biting at the ridge of bone. Thor writhes as he presses his fingers deep inside himself, spreading them wider as he imagines Loki peppering his thighs with kisses just a little to harsh to be sweet.

Loki would be rough with him, not caring if he upset the crown prince, not caring if Thor whimpers beneath him, gasping, his cock red with need. Loki wouldn’t worry if his nails left red marks as they dragged across Thor’s chest. He’d just nuzzle against Thor’s cock, laughing as Thor struggled to keep from fucking up into empty again.

Thor is panting now, his ass open and aching for more. He pulls his fingers out too fast, and shivers at the sting. He doesn’t slow down though, not now that he’s got the image of Loki behind his eyes and his cock hard against him.

Buried in the twisted sheets is a wide glass dildo. He’d had to slip away from Fandral one day when they were last on Vanaheim. He’d blushed the entire time he’d paid for it. Despite his reputation around the realms, his means of pleasuring himself is still something Thor doesn’t want shouted to the heavens. He’d slipped the golden glass into his back without Fandral noticing, though, and now its his favorite toy.

He slicks it up with trembling hands. It’s wider than his fingers, but Thor likes the burn as it stretches him the rest of the way open. He’d taken time to choose one that was just the right thickness and length, trying not to think about why those things seemed so right. Now, though, he’s more than willing to think about how the golden length of glass is just the same side as Loki, just how Thor remembers his brother’s cock from the few times he’s seen Loki hard in the morning.

He pushes the dildo against his ass, groaning. It spreads him open wide, and Thor moans long and loud as his wraps his hand around his cock and slides the toy the rest of the way. For a few minutes after he has it inside, he just breathes, unmoving, his fist clenched around his cock, and lets himself adjust to the hardness inside him.

Then he starts to fuck himself with it. It’s awkward like this, on his back, but Thor likes to imagine Loki sliding between his legs and taking him like this, as intimate as any two lovers can be, staring into his eyes and promising Thor the world. It’s worth the way his bicep burns and he has to pull his legs up to give himself enough room to work.

Thor’s dick is almost aching now, he’s to turned on. He strokes it roughly with a hand still covered in oil, whimpering when the toy hits that spot deep inside him at just the same moment Thor’s thumb passes over the sensitive place just below the head of his dick. His back arches involuntarily, and precome spurts out.

Thor lets his eyes flutter open as he fucks himself hard and fast. He’s so close, his balls drawing up and his sides trembling with the effort of holding himself back. He twists his fist as he strokes himself, and that’s it. He can’t hold back any more. He tosses his head to one side as he comes, moaning Loki’s name long and loud, spilling all over himself.

His ass clamps down on the dildo, and his eyes roll back for a moment as his cock spurts and jumps. His arms tremble even harder, so hard that he has to let go of the dildo and claw at his body, trying to hold himself together as his orgasm threatens to shake him apart.

It’s over in moments, but Thor feels as though he’s been falling to pieces for days when he finally opens his eyes again. He’s sightless for a few seconds as he returns his fingers to the head of the toy and starts to ease it out of his body. Then, finally, his brain catches up with his eyes.

There, standing like a shadow just outside of his door, inside their shared bathing room, is Loki.

Loki, in the flesh, real as he isn’t in Thor’s fantasies.

Loki with a towel wrapped around his waist and a flush that spreads down his pale chest.

Loki, who is smirking at Thor, licking his lips. Loki, who reaches out and closes Thor’s door deliberately, but not before glancing pointedly down to where Thor has the dildo half out of his ass.

Thor’s heart beats so hard he thinks it’s going to beat itself out of his chest. The door shuts with a click, and he falls back completely onto his pillows. Loki saw. Loki saw him with a glass dick up his ass, with his hand wrapped around around his cock. Thor pants for a few moments, terrified. Loki could have heard him. Had he said anything too embarrassing? He can’t remember.

He can’t have, he tells himself. He doesn’t remember the few moments before he came, but he can’t have screamed Loki’s name, not with how calm his brother looked. If he’d called out for Loki in the throws of passion, his brother wouldn’t be nearly that calm. Thor takes a deep breath. Nothing has happened, nothing more than Loki catching him pleasuring himself. It is all going to be ok.

***

Once again, Thor is shifting on his seat at a feast. The hall is loud with the noise of merriment, and a few fights have already broken out among the lower tables. The smell of roast meat and mead drifts through the air, and the high table has been served the second course. Thor should be just getting into his element, laughing and jeering with his friends, drinking cup after cup of mead and eating enough to make even Volstagg impressed.

Instead, he’s nursing his second drink of the evening, and he’s only made his way through one plate of food the whole night. It’s Loki’s fault, of course.

His brother had walked into the hall at the beginning of the feast, dressed in a tunic even lower cut than the last, his trousers seeming painted onto his slim legs. He’d ruffled Fandral’s hair as he’d walked past, and Thor had to bury himself in his mug to keep his growl from being heard. Loki had noticed something, though, because he’d slipped into his seat next to Thor with a smirk, running a finger across the back of Thor’s shoulders as he passed.

Loki has been unbearable lately.

Just two days ago, he had burst into Thor’s rooms in nothing but a tiny pair of training trousers, his whole body on display. Thor had sputtered as Loki had ranted about some visiting seidrmadr from Vanaheim, who seemed determined to prove that the Vanir had magics the Aesir could only dream of.

Thor hadn’t listened to a word.

He’d been too focused on the way that Loki’s stomach had flexed and trembled as Loki stalked around his room, the way Loki’s hands had caressed his own body when he was describing how much better he was than this foreign sorcerer. Thor had been far too distracted by how Loki’s hair was damp with sweat, and had come out of its usual set, falling in waves around his cheeks and tickling against the graceful curve of Loki’s throat.

He’d been far more worried about trying to hide the way his own trousers were straining across his hips, than to pay heed to Loki’s rant. He’d murmured something about how he was certain Loki could best anyone, Vanir and Aesir alike, and tried to hurry Loki out of his room so he could take care of the problem Loki’s half naked body had brought on.

That hadn’t been the first or the last time, either. A few days before that, Loki had take-up stretching in their shared bathing room in the mornings. The first time Thor had walked in to see him bent over in only his underclothes, his hands pressed flat on the floor and his legs straight, his ass in the air, Thor had almost choked. He’d blushed bright red and asked Loki what he was doing.

“Stretching. It’s warmer in here. Better for your muscles. You should try it some time, brother,” Loki told him, not looking up from where he was now arching his back in a backbend. Thor had spluttered, turning around and rushing into his room without another word.

He’d tried his hardest to pay no mind to Loki’s new morning ritual from then on. It was too unfair to his brother, to let Thor’s perversions make him uncomfortable in his own space. Instead, Thor had kept his eyes resolutely away from Loki as he rinsed his face in the morning, and taken to washing himself after training only when he was certain Loki would not walk into the room.

That had worked, but only so far. It hadn’t saved him from the moment that Loki wandered into his room after a bath, clad only in a towel. Thor had squeaked, trying to pull a blanket over his lap surreptitiously enough that Loki didn’t notice. Loki had only looked at him with a sort of dim concern, waving his hands in the air as though distilling Thor’s embarrassment.

“What is with you, Thor?” Loki had asked.

“You startled me,” Thor had managed to say with a level voice, dragging the blanket the rest of the way across his lap.

“The great Thor, startled by his brother walking into his rooms? His brother, with whom he shares a bathing chamber? His brother, whose chambers connect to his? If I didn’t know better, Thor, I would say you’re losing your touch.”

Thor’s cheeks flared at that, as they’d been doing on and off every time he saw Loki lately. It seemed that everything Loki did lately drove him to distraction, made him notice how beautiful his brother was, and reminded him of how utterly perverse his own desires were. Loki had come over then to ruffle Thor’s hair with a hand still damp from his bath.

“I didn’t think my teasing would actually upset you, brother,” Loki had murmured. “You’re not losing your touch, though perhaps you should expect me more in these rooms of ours.”

Thor had nodded, trying not to dislodge Loki’s hand on his hair, and hating himself for the effort. Loki had hardly noticed though. Instead, he made his way to Thor’s dressing table, fingering the bottles there, letting his hands trace across the razor Thor kept to keep his beard in check.

“Can I borrow a brush?” He’d asked.

“What’s wrong with yours?” Thor asked, clearing his throat around the lump in it.

“Broke it. I’ve got to go purchase another sometime today.”

“How did you break a brush, brother?” Thor asked, laughing despite his arousal. Loki was bent over a little, and the towel wrapped around his hips did little to hide the perfect curve of his ass.

“I may have thrown it in frustration. I didn’t expect it to break!” Loki whined the words a little, grinning at Thor.

“Of course you did,” Thor smiled back. “Ok, go on. But if you break that one, you’re going to get me a nicer one when you go out today.”

Loki had stretched upward then, raising his arms above his head and yawning like a cat. The towel slipped down a little, and Thor could see the line of dark hair that trailed across his brother’s stomach and led down to where Loki’s cock lay, just concealed by thin fabric. Thor had bitten his lip hard then, clenching his hands on the blanket to keep himself in his seat. Loki hadn’t noticed, of course, but instead finished his stretch, picking up the brush.

“Thank you,” he’d tossed over his shoulder, leaving Thor red faced and aching.

Now, at the feast, Thor has to keep his eyes down and his mind focused on slowly, slowly bringing foot to his lips. If he looks up, he will catch the flash of pale skin at Loki’s throat. He will see the way Loki’s cheeks sparkle with some powder Loki has brushed across them. He will notice the way the green gems woven into Loki’s dark hair perfectly set off the storm green of his eyes.

A hand brushes against his leg, and Thor jumps, banging his knee against the table. He looks down hurriedly to see Loki picking his napkin up off the floor between them. Thor’s whole body feels like it’s on fire, sparks flickering across his skin and concentrating on the place where Loki’s fingers skimmed his thigh.

He tears his eyes away to find Sif looking at him strangely. Thor shrugs, unsure if it’s worse to admit he was startled, or to say nothing at all. Loki makes the choice for him, though, coming up with his napkin held triumphantly in an upraised hand.

“Maybe I was right the other day, Thor,” he says. “Maybe you really are getting startled too easily these days.”

“Not a chance,” Thor says in a passable mimic of his usual growl. Sif laughs.

“So you weren’t startled during training the other day when Loki appeared out of nothing beside you.”

“Not startled, no!” Thor protests. “Only frustrated. Someday Loki will teach us to sense whether a version of him is a mirage or not, but until then, it’s cursed hard to tell.”

Fandral and Volstagg laugh, and Hogun nods in sympathy. Sif does neither, but she does smile. Thor relaxes a little. The ruse has worked. They all believe him, bound together in their mutual frustration at their inability to counter Loki’s magic.

Loki himself, though, is giving Thor that look that says he knows Thor hasn’t been entirely truthful, but that he hasn’t quite figured out what Thor is trying to conceal. Thor has never been a very good liar, and his brother is particularly difficult to fool. This time, though, Loki says nothing.

Instead, he reaches over, and weaves his fingers through Thor’s hair, tugging lightly. Thor jumps again, even though he saw exactly what was coming. Loki laughs, and tugs harder. Thor blushes. There seems to be no escape. If he leaves the feast now, Loki will follow and demand to know why. If he stays, it will be just as these past few weeks have been: a torturous melange of Loki’s image and Loki’s touch, with only the comfort of his own hand at the end of it all.

He stays, of course.

***

It’s been a month since Thor snuck into Loki’s private training yard to watch him. Loki has been too attentive lately, showing up late at night in Thor’s chambers to share time with him, wandering around half dressed. The need to watch has been building in Thor, though, and now it spills over, driving him to skulk in the shadows.

He doesn’t know quite what it is, but there is something about watching Loki weave together strands of magic that is unlike any other pleasure Thor has ever experienced, and he’s well acquainted with pleasure. Loki’s eyes gleam with power, and his whole body seems to be more alive than it is at any other time. The sight of him is as enthralling as any spell or any curse that Loki could dream up.

So Thor presses himself back against the wall of the yard, watching as Loki starts to stretch his fingers out. Seidr glimmers as it gathers around his hands, and Loki’s eyes narrow in concentration. He runs his hands through the air, leaving familiar glimmering ropes in their wake. Thor had once asked him why, when he trains, Loki’s workings are visible, but when they’re in the heat of battle, they’re not.

Loki had gone on about something called a cantrip, and something about using ready made spells, and then the entire discussion had gotten so technical that Thor’s temples had ached just from listening. It hadn’t taken long for Loki to realize Thor was utterly lost. He’d clapped Thor on the shoulder but sighed.

“It just is that way, Thor,” he’d told him, and Thor had accepted it, as he tries to accept everything he doesn’t understand about his brother, however hard that is sometimes.

Now, though, he hardly thinks about that. The delicate movements of Loki’s hands bewitch him, the way that they carve through the air and trace lines of golden-green fire. Loki reaches out and knots that fire together with deft motions, his fingers picking out designs that are more complicated than even the most intricate tapestry. Then he pulls away, stepping back. For a few moments, the design hangs in the air before Loki, shimmering and pulsing.

Loki nods in satisfaction, placing a hand on his lower back and arching it as though the weaving has made his muscles ache as much as a good bout with Sif or Thor. He groans as he does it, and Thor feels an answering moan rise in his throat before he can stop it.

Loki’s head whips around.

A slash of his hand demolishes the weaving, and then he’s darting across the courtyard to where Thor stands, stock still. Thor’s heart beats so fast he thinks he might faint, but he can’t get his legs to bend and carry him away. He’s frozen against the wall of the training yard, his only motion the insistent thunder of his pulse in his ears.

“Thor,” Loki says, coming to a halt right in front of him, so close that Thor can smell sweat and the oil Loki uses on his hair.

He tries to respond, but chokes on the words, not sure what to say.

“Were you spying on me again?” Loki asks, his voice soft as silk.

“Again?” Thor manages to choke out.

“I am not as unobservant as you take me for, Thor,” Loki hisses. “I know you watch me here. I know you hide yourself in the shadows, trying to conceal yourself from my eyes.”

He takes a single step closer, and now he’s almost touching Thor’s heaving chest. His eyes are dark with something Thor thinks is fury at first. Then Loki raises a hand, setting it flat on the wide muscle of Thor’s pecs.

“I like it, you know,” Loki whispers.

“You… you what?” Thor gasps.

“I like you watching me,” Loki repeats, a little louder now. His fingers dig into Thor’s chest a little, clenching on Thor’s thin tunic. “I like knowing you’re here, that you are just as bewitched watching my seidr as you should be.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Thor mumbles. “If you knew I was there, why not call me out on it?”

“Well, Thor, I never said I didn’t like seeing you squirm as well,” Loki laughs. He steps forward again. Their bodies are pressed tight together, and Thor draws in a deep breath, willing his cock not to react. Loki had one hand cupped around his throat, and their chest pressed together.

“Loki?” He asks, clenching his hands against the rock wall to keep from grabbing Loki’s waist.

“You think I don’t see how you look at me, Thor?” Loki asks. His breath whispers across Thor’s cheek. “I am not so blind as that. Do you think I have never heard you moaning my name as you touch yourself?”

“Brother…” Thor whispers, blushing, horrified.

“You are not so subtle as all that, Thor. I see how you cannot take your eyes off of me when I wander into your rooms, half dressed. I’ve seen you fuck yourself open with my name on your lips.”

“What are you…” Thor swallows, “what are you doing, Loki?”

Loki laughs again, but this time it’s not a cruel jeer but rather the soft snicker of delight his brother sometimes gives when he’s truly happy.

“Telling you I feel the same way,” he whispers in Thor’s ear. “Telling you I want you. Telling you I need you.”

“You… what?” Thor can’t seem to wrap his mind around the words. There has to be a catch, a trick in all this.

“I hoped you would catch on when I started to show myself off to you all the time. I thought that maybe you’d realize how much I needed you when I started letting my hands wander during training. You never did.” Loki giggles, pure and delighted. He ruffles Thor’s hair. “Oh, brother, you’ve been stewing in your own guilt and need for so long you can’t even see it in someone else.”

Thor hardly hears the words. It has all come together now. All those times that Loki had wandered about weren’t accidental. They were a tease, a show that Loki put on just for him. All these years that he’s held himself back, he’s been ignoring what’s right in front of his face. This past month, since Loki caught him with a toy up his ass, Loki has been trying to get his attention.

“You want me?” He asks, breathless.

“Thor, believe me when I say that I could want no other as much as I desire you,” Loki says, cradling his cheek for the barest instant. Then he laughs again, stepping away and grabbing Thor’s hand. “I have waited so long for this, Thor,” he says, tugging at Thor.

Thor follows him, his head still spinning. Loki pulls him across the yard and through he doorway to his private workroom. Inside, there are tables covered in strange mixtures and metal apparati that Thor has never even imagined. Loki pulls him past them, though, and to the large table in the center of the room. A sweep of his arm clears it of papers. Then, incredibly, Loki pushes him up against it, stepping into Thor’s space once again.

“Give us a kiss,” he whispers, and it’s so much more than the old taunt. Thor leans in, and Loki meets him halfway.

The press of their lips together does not send sparks down Thor’s spine, nor does it make his head go light with need. Instead, it feels like coming home after a long, hard day. It feels like sinking into soft sheets and burying oneself in warm blankets. It feels like sitting in front a fire on a cold night on heavy rugs. It feels like home.

Thor collapses against Loki, wrapping his hands around Loki’s waist and pressing himself closer to his brother. He never wants to let go. His heart, his body, his very soul, they all seem to reach out to Loki and wrap themselves around him, taking Loki inside as though he is a missing piece of Thor that Thor has just discovered once again. Loki moans against Thor’s lips, his hands coming up to tangle in Thor’s hair.

They kiss like that until Thor has to pull away, breathless. Loki’s pale cheeks are flushed, and his hands have started to tug at Thor’s hair. He rests his forehead against Thor’s, and their breath mingles between them.

“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Thor? Do you have any idea how many times I have thought of you fucking yourself with that toy, of how it was just the right size to be my cock?”

“I-” Thor clears his throat, “I bought it because it was just as I imagined you,” he confesses in a rush of breath.

“Thor,” Loki moans, pressing their hips together. It is only then that Thor realizes he is blindingly hard, that his trousers are so tight they boarder on painful. Loki is as well, if the thickness pressing against Thor’s thigh is anything to go on.

Thor runs his hands across Loki’s back, then grabs Loki’s ass, squeezing. Loki fills his hands perfectly, and his ass is just soft enough to be enticing while firm enough to remind Thor of how powerful he is. It’s a heady mixture, and Thor moans, burying his face in Loki’s throat.

“Do you want to know how the real thing feels?” Loki asks, rolling his hips against Thor’s. “Do you want me inside you?”

Thor gasps, kissing frantically at Loki’s neck as he tries to get his breathing under control enough to answer. His fingers scrabble at Loki’s ass, and he arches against Loki desperately.

“M-more than anything,” he finally manages to whisper.

“Do you want me to take you here, Thor?” Loki tugs his hair again, and pleasure sparks down Thor’s back like pain.

Thor moans inarticulately, but Loki seems to understand, as he always understand Thor, perhaps better than Thor understands himself. There’s a strange rush of air, and Thor suddenly finds himself unclothed, his nakedness pressed to Loki’s own bare body. His teeth clench down on Loki’s skin in surprise, and Loki whimpers.

Thor lets go frantically, terrified that Loki is in pain, but Loki only laughs in frantic delight.

“Do that again, Thor. Mark me up. Make me yours,” he orders, and tilts his head to one side to give Thor more room to work.

Thor returns to Loki’s neck with frantic abandon, biting and sucking a bruise deep into Loki’s skin as they rut their hips together. His own cock is getting so hard that it borders on painful, and Loki’s is leaking against his skin. One of Loki’s hands leaves his hair. He makes a motion just outside of Thor’s range of vision.

Thor gasps. His knees buckle, and he only stays upright because of how Loki presses him against the table. He trembles for a few moments. His hole feels slick and stretched, as though Loki had worked him open for long moments, as though three fingers had spread him apart.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I want to fuck you, Thor, and I want it now.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Thor whimpers as Loki worms a hand between them and traces the head of his cock.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know I can do.” Loki murmurs. “Now turn around, Thor. I want your pretty ass facing up, your legs spread for me.”

Thor gasps. He pushes Loki away with frantic hands, just enough so he can flip over and bend himself over the table. He does as Loki asks, spreading his legs so wide that he feels uncomfortable, and turning his head to one side to lay his cheek against the rough wood. His back arches a little, and he reaches around to hold his ass open for Loki’s inspection.

Loki groans. He sets a hand on the small of Thor’s back, the fingers of his other hand tracing a line down Thor’s ass to finally settle against his hole.

“So open for me, Thor. So good. You look so pretty like this, spread out only for me.”

Thor shivers at the words, and then at how Loki dips his thumb inside Thor’s loose hole. He feels empty like this, as though he’s been fucked open and then left to whimper and squirm without a cock inside him.

“Loki,” he whispers.

“Shh,” Loki strokes his back. “Shh. I’m going to fuck you Thor. Don’t worry. Do you feel this? I’m pressing against you. Are you going to open up and let me in?”

Thor gasps, nodding and pushing back against what has to be the head of Loki’s cock. He never thought he’d get this, and now that he is, finally, it is so overwhelming that all he can do is moan and rut like a beast. It’s ok, though, because Loki’s hands are gentle against his sides, and Loki leans over to kiss the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, Thor. I’m here. I’m here, brother. I’ll take care of you.”

It so sweet, so sincere, that it makes Thor’s heart throb. It’s miles, worlds away from Loki’s sarcastic, teasing voice. It’s the tone of a lover, the sound of devotion that Thor has craved for years. He hardly makes a sound as Loki slides the rest of the way inside him, he’s so overwhelmed.

Loki pauses when he’s seated fully inside Thor, panting. He kisses across the back of Thor’s neck almost frantically, then finds Thor’s lips. Thor doesn’t have quite enough control to kiss back, not when he can feel Loki’s cock throbbing inside him and Loki’s hands squeezing the little soft places on his sides. It’s fine, though, because Loki doesn’t seem to expect much. He mouthes at Thor’s lips, then sighs.

“You feel… Thor, you feel incredible,” he whispers.

“More,” Thor manages to get out.

“You want me to move?” Loki asks.

Thor makes an indistinct sound, but Loki must understand, because he pulls out a little, then presses back inside Thor. The drag of his cock inside Thor sends shivers rolling through Thor’s whole body, and Thor moans, the sound ripping itself from his throat. He pushes back against Loki, and Loki snaps his hips sharply, driving his cock deep inside Thor.

Thor groans. No one has ever felt like this before. Loki fits inside him as though they were born to be together, as though he were made just to fill Thor up perfectly. His fingers dig into Thor’s side just enough that Thor feels caught and held, no matter that he could break Loki’s grip with only a little work. He doesn’t want to. He wants nothing more than this, the knowledge that his brother wants this just as much as he does.

It is better than he ever dreamed of. Loki has started up a solid rhythm, fucking into Thor and drawing back just enough that Thor whimpers from the loss. Thor tries to spread his legs wider, to pull Loki deeper inside him, and Loki gasps.

The motion must have unleashed something, because Loki grabs Thor’s cock, jerking him off as he starts to talk.

“Can’t believe how much you need this, Thor,” Loki pants. “You’re so desperate. Can’t believe this is all for me. I knew you wanted me, but this?”

Thor squirms, not sure if he should fuck forward into Loki’s hand or back onto Loki’s cock. Loki takes the choice away from him, though, stroking Thor’s cock in time to the jerk of his hips so Thor is caught between them.

“My golden, perfect brother, and he needs this as much as I do. Fuck, Thor, do you have any idea how hot that is?”

“Not… not as beautiful as you are,” Thor whispers. Loki stiffens behind him, then his thrusts grow faster, rhythm breaking down.

“Say it again,” Loki orders.

“That you’re beautiful?” Thor asks. “You are, Loki, you are,” he pants.

“Thor…” Loki groans. One of his hands cradles Thor’s balls, and the other strokes Thor’s cock at a frantic pace. “I want you to come for me,” he whispers.

“Loki,” Thor gasps. Loki’s voice in his ear is too much, and he does just as Loki says, his back arching and his ass clenching down on Loki’s cock, his cock jerking hard.

He can dimly feel when Loki starts to spill inside him, but Thor is lost in his own orgasm, his whole body shaking, his muscles twitching. He can hardly think, not with Loki’s hand around his cock, gentling him through the end of his orgasm. He slumps forward, his whole chest pressing to the table as Loki’s hips slow and Loki falls forward on top of him.

“I love you,” Thor mutters when he finally has his breath back, ashamed he hasn’t said it sooner. He swallows, wetting his lips. He needs to tell Loki that this isn’t just so desperate need on his part, that it is so much more. He squirms against Loki, trying to flip over. Loki groans as his soft cock slips from Thor’s body, but lets Thor turn over and stand, lets Thor wrap his arms around his waist.

Loki’s cheeks are bright red, his whole body covered in sweat, but his eyes are bright when he looks at Thor.

“I love you, brother,” Thor says again, stronger this time.

“I know,” Loki nods, confident and hardly affected.

“No, Loki. I mean… I…” Thor swallows. “I mean that I love you like a lover, not just a brother. I mean that I want everything with you. I want to be the one you come to when you’re sad, your support, the one that you can always count on to have your back. I love you.” The words feel inadequate, but Thor doesn’t know what else to say, how he can explain.

Loki pulls back to stare Thor straight in the eye. One of his hands strokes the sweaty strands of hair hanging at the left side of Thor’s face, and his throat bobs.

“I know,” he repeats, only this time his voice breaks on the words. “I know, Thor. I know how you feel.”

“You-” Thor can’t finish the question. He can’t bear to hear that Loki doesn’t feel the same way. He doesn’t have to though.

“We are the same, you and I,” Loki whispers. “In this, at least, we are the same.”

And that is enough. Loki may not be able to say the words himself, but Thor doesn’t need that, not yet. He never thought he’d have even a fraction of this. Now Loki loves him, and they are wrapped together inextricable. It is enough and more.