Chapter Text
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Epilogue
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“Thor.” He nudged his sleeping brother.
He knew he shouldn't; Thor needed rest after such an attack. But…. But everything felt so strange, like it wasn't really his. The only thing that seemed right was Thor. And he was so cold.
“Thor.” Everything was wrong. Was he sick? Was this from giving Thor a chunk of his own power? Would he keep feeling like this?
“Loki?” Thor was sleepy, ruffled. “What is it, brother?”
“I… I’m cold.” He felt like he might cry; he didn't know how to say all he was feeling. He was supposed to be doing something, something important!
Thor grunted, and lifted the blanket to invite him in.
Loki sniffed, and climbed in immediately, then cuddled close against his warm brother. Thor's arm wrapped around him, and Loki felt absolutely pathetic with gratitude. “Something's wrong. Everything feels strange.”
“Mother said giving me so much of your power might make you feel strange.” Thor kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry, brother. You always take care of me.”
Yes, that had always been their way. Thor was golden and strong, and Loki was devoted to him. Of course.
But Thor’s power had been violently destroyed. Loki’s had been given. He should be feeling far less negative effects than Thor. Tired, perhaps weak, but not detached and disoriented. Not this clawing anxiety.
Then again, Thor had always been stronger.
“I feel as if I’ve never been in my own room. I know it's my room, but it’s wrong. My clothes aren't my clothes. The whole palace feels strange.” He shuddered against Thor. “Even my skin is wrong.”
“Shh, brother.” Thor's hands were so big, strong and warm. “Your skin is perfect.”
He felt better, pressed against Thor. Perhaps simple proximity to the piece of himself he had put in Thor. Perhaps the hypnotic power of Thor's hands. “Are you having any negative effects?”
“Not really. Tired, I guess. And…. It's not a negative effect, but I feel like I’m… more aware of you.”
Maybe he'd done something wrong, when he’d given Thor his power. He’d been in such a hurry. Thor had been dying. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve always been at my side. Now it seems like I’m… noticing you there. Was I ignoring you?”
Loki grunted. He hadn’t felt ignored.
But he wasn’t complaining about more attention.
Thor’s hand was inside his shirt, warm against his back. His fingers were moving idly, scratching along his spine like petting a cat.
“Can I stay here?”
“Of course.” Thor’s breath tickled his neck. “You can stay every night.”
And, because he felt so strange, because nothing except Thor seemed real, he pressed closer. He let his skin rub against Thor’s, he let his thighs open against Thor’s. His voice was soft and… he did not feel brotherly. “Can you keep me warm?”
Thor let out a soft noise. Lust. He moved to cover Loki, to bury him completely in his huge warmth. And the way he pressed against him, the hardness against Loki’s hip, also did not feel brotherly. “Always.”
Loki couldn’t keep his hands from Thor’s skin. Thor slept bare, exposed to touch, and Loki had to touch that huge, muscled chest. Had to run his hands over that smooth, warm back.
“Do you really think my skin is perfect?” Nothing was real except Thor.
“Your skin is perfect.” And Thor kissed him. It was deep, and hungry, and not brotherly at all, and Loki opened to it with a needy moan. His skin wasn't perfect, but it was alive, crying out for Thor, lighting up under his hands.
And Thor’s hands were still under his shirt, touching everywhere. One drew a hot path to Loki's chest, and gently pinched a nipple, and Loki gasped and arched up against Thor's body at the almost sharp spike of pleasure that caused.
“Thor!” He was digging his nails into Thor's back, desperate to keep Thor there. To hold on to this one piece of reality.
“I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed Loki again. “It’s like you’re here for me only.” The words were soft, but deliberate, put directly into Loki’s ear. “There’s a piece of you inside me, keeping me alive.” Thor’s hardness was pressed against Loki’s abdomen, answered by Loki’s own needy erection. They were seperated by the pants Loki had worn to bed, but they were thin, they did nothing to keep their need from each other. “You’ll never be anyone’s as much as you are mine.”
“Yes!” Everything was strange, and he was so aimless, directionless. He didn’t know what he was doing. He had to look after Thor. He had to stay safe, since now he carried Thor’s life too. Wasn’t there something else?
And Thor felt so good, so warm! His lips were hungry for Loki, his hands were so gentle, caring, pleasing. His hips were pressing against his, they weren’t rubbing together, they were rocking, grinding, Loki could feel Thor’s tremors.
“Thor!” He’d never done this before, never, as if he’d been waiting for Thor, waiting for Thor to claim him! He hooked his legs over Thor’s thighs, getting, needing, better leverage to grind them together. “Thor, please!” He was shaking, so close, nothing made any sense.
“Anything, brother.” So warm, so possessive. “Anything.”
“Make this feeling stop!” he begged.
All at once, Thor bit down on the side of his neck, where he’d been kissing, and squeezed Loki’s nipple hard, and shoved their hips hard together, and climax spilled out of Loki like a startled flock of birds, and Loki cried out in surprise and overwhelmed pleasure, and gasped when he felt Thor come as well, thrusting urgently against him.
And for a moment, it didn’t matter. He was being held in pleasant warmth, was cuddled in safe arms. He drifted, and caught his breath, and lazily kissed his brother, and stroked his hair. It felt so nice.
He didn’t know how long passed, before anxiety crept back into him. The strangeness of everything around him. He whined, and buried his face in Thor’s hair.
“It worked for a little while, though?” Thor rumbled, stroking soothing hands over him.
Loki nodded.
“Well just have to try again, then.”