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“They'll be fine,” Loki says mildly, one hand trailing casually over the windowsill. “Heimdall sees the situation.”
“I'd still the prefer if we didn't have to separate from them for so long,” comes the gruff reply from somewhere a couple paces behind Loki. He purposefully doesn't turn around, trying to seem composed.
Of course he understands Thor's wariness. They are on a foreign planet after all and their people – what's left of them – are still aboard the Ark, hovering just around the stratosphere. He and Thor ventured onto the planet's surface to bargain for supplies and they were gently but firmly persuaded to stay the night. Hospitality customs.
Apart from the drawn out, stuffy ways of the people here, Loki likes the planet well enough. The temperature is mild, perhaps a bit on the colder side, and the architecture favours dark stone. It reminds him of the more rural areas of Asgard a little bit. The food too was more than palatable and he's pleased that this is where they will be picking up provisions for the next several months.
Hopefully.
“We should sleep,” he says, finally turning away from the window and its view of the sprawling stone city, green edges of endless fields bracketing it. “You might not like the distance to the ship, but I imagine a little breathing room will serve us both well.”
Thor is removing his vambraces. “I don't deny I like this place, I just...”
“Worry, yes,” Loki smiles, almost genuinely. “So we've established.”
Down to his undergarments, Thor turns down the bed and glances at Loki in a way that's entirely lacking any subtlety. Loki rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the awkwardness that is stubbornly hanging over the room now.
One beautiful bedroom, comfortably furnished for its guests' needs. Whether their hosts misunderstood who the two of them were to each other or whether they simply thought they wouldn't mind, Loki doesn't know and doesn't particularly care. He just knows it's been years since he and Thor slept together.
In more ways than one.
He won't let this get to him. They're brothers. The bed is big, there's nothing untoward to it.
Nothing, except of course for two quietly racing minds, equally overwhelmed by the inescapable memories of the times they didn't behave like brothers.
Loki snuffs the lights before he begins to undress.
Hours later, they are both still awake. At first, Thor tossed and turned while Loki remained still, lying on his side with his back to Thor. Then Thor finally stilled and Loki dared to roll over and look at him only to find him prone on his back, arms folded, frowning at the ceiling.
Feeling caught although unsurprised, Loki stills, propped on one elbow and he and Thor look at each other for a long while.
“There's something I wanted to say for a while, but I didn't know how it would be received. Still don't.”
“And that has stopped you before?” Loki asks, incredulous.
“Fine,” Thor huffs. His arms are still crossed. “I wanted to apologize for... for Jane. I know that by every other rule, I wasn't wrong, not even because she's mortal. But to you...”
“Oh, good,” Loki says after a beat. “And here I was worried this new and improved version of you would pretend forever you didn't use to fuck me nine ways to Valhalla on weekly basis.”
Thor sits up, blankets pooling in his lap, and turns to Loki fully. “We were together. And you were plotting to- plotting against me. Do you begrudge me for doubting everything?”
The pain in Loki's chest is as sharp as it is unexpected. He has to fight against lashing out on instinct, on dealing the same wound. Does Thor really not understand? Slowly, he pushes himself up, sitting on his heels.
“I was also your brother when I, as you so put it, plotted against you. You don't doubt me anymore though, do you? As your brother? Then why would you- there was never two of me.”
Thor cocks his head, thoughtful and Loki is torn between feeling relief and between his anger mounting. Relief that Thor is at least considering it, understanding it, but anger also because he should have known all along.
But then Thor chokes out a laugh, one that sounds suspiciously a lot like a sob and Loki stiffens, unprepared. Thor runs a hand down his face, rubbing his remaining eye, shaking his head.
“That's possibly the best thing I've heard since... ”
Loki won't be the first one to reach out. His heart is still beating fast; Thor's topic of choice is dredging up things he has learnt to keep buried. But the thrum of want is there, vibrating just under the surface, ready to be let out every time he so much as looks at Thor.
On a whim, he brightens the room ever so slightly, just enough for their tired, sleepless eyes to see each other.
“There's nearly no privacy on the ship,” Loki says carefully. “Not to mention the ever present danger. So if there's anything you want, this might be the best chance you get for a long while.”
Thor smiles, and it looks clean and fresh on his face. Loki is glad he brought in some light, he wouldn't have wanted to miss that. “I want? I'm not the only one though, am I? Else you wouldn't be tolerating this conversation.”
The thrum just underneath Loki's skin is getting stronger. He couldn't have even dreamt about this when they made planetfall that morning. But even though they're less than a pace from each other, almost naked, and upon a bed, the distance seems daunting.
Loki had wanted Thor – wanted him for years, maybe centuries, a maelstrom of young need. And then he had him only to lose him due to his own actions. He wasn't lying – to him, there was only ever Thor, brother and everything else blending into one because that's what Thor was, what he did. He filled every space he entered. He couldn't simply hold a large but still incomplete part of Loki's heart, fill his own due part with fraternal affection. No, he overtook it whole. Loki had felt helpless exactly three times in his life – but one of them spanned across centuries. Helpless in the face of the knowledge that Thor was everything to him and always would be, for better or worse. Lover, brother, enemy, sometimes it barely mattered.
“No, you're right,” Loki says faintly, not even minding the surprised but pleased quirk of Thor's eyebrows when he hears that. “I want you. I want to fuck.”
“Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?” Thor needles him, all smug, even as he shuffles forward, boldly in Loki's space, questing lips finding first Loki's bare shoulder, giving him a little peck and a rub of his beard. A playful hello.
Loki grunts, not deigning to reply, rather reaching out and yanking Thor by his woefully short hair and kissing him on the mouth, fully, daringly, just the way he has missed these past years.
Thor wraps one hand around Loki's waist and the other around the back of Loki's neck, the gesture as familiar as breathing, holding him still and with no way to escape – as though he would want to.
Soft lips, rough beard and hot mouth, the combination of the sensations sends Loki's mind sprinting to the past, but in a good, slightly bittersweet way. The familiarity is intense, as is his need for it. They could spend the night like this, just kissing with Thor's hand possessively weaving into Loki's hair, thumb stroking his cheek.
Opening his eyes without breaking the kiss, Loki sees the fan of dark lashes fluttering as Thor gives himself to it, painfully earnest, likely thinking he is safe from Loki's gaze right now.
His cock pulses with need and he hurriedly closes his eyes again before the image becomes too intense.
They end up falling back onto the sheets, rolling around a little clumsily. Words aren't coming right now and neither is coordination. There's some tentativeness behind their touches. As easy as it feels to run his hands all over Thor's skin, feeling the familiar swell of his muscles, Loki finds himself hesitating at times, the way he brushes his fingers over Thor's ass almost shy. Thor for his part is bolder with his mouth than he is with his hands, kissing Loki until he has to push him away to breathe, which only prompts Thor to duck his head and nose underneath Loki's ear, his jaw, then press kisses against the hollow of his throat.
The dam seems to break once they roll over just so and end up pressed front to front, undeniably hard cocks rubbing together through their underthings.
“Loki,” Thor groans and Loki shakes his head at the both of them and reaches down to finally pull the thin cotton away.
He wants this, wants Thor completely bare against him. They're a little out of practice, that's all, and he's done letting that stop them.
On a whim, he calls yet more light to the room. He can see the shape of Thor well enough, but he's hungry for more, for the hue of his skin, for the smallest minutiae of his expressions. Satisfied, he presses Thor onto his back and straddles him.
Thor's smile as he looks up at Loki, hands loosely holding Loki's hips, is dopey and almost delirious. I've pleased him, Loki thinks. I'm pleasing him with every touch, every moan. He will be thinking about this for days, even as he does his duties. It will be a reprieve from all that's weighing him down.
And Loki will be around, consulting with him or doing other tasks, healing, or doing inventory or whatever dull task will require his expertise and he will know it.
“Come here,” Thor winks, tugging at Loki's hips until he can raise his head and lick at the tip of Loki's cock. He shivers uncontrollably at the first hot, wet touch of Thor's tongue. It's so tempting to just push forward and demand Thor's mouth but a different, no less devilish thought stops him.
“Get me wet,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to remain even if he spoke out loud.
Thor's eye looking up at him is electric and a little amused. In long, drawn out licks, Thor paints the entirety of Loki's cock with spit, pulling back every now and then to simply suck as the tip, mingling the wetness of his mouth with the slick drops that are pulsing out of Loki without his permission. He can't recall the last time he wanted it this badly.
Taking a deep breath, he pulls back, grabbing both of Thor's wrists, yanking his hands down to where he wants them.
“Hold them.”
Smirking, Thor cups his pecs and pushes them together, creating a valley like a woman's cleavage. Loki flicks Thor's nipples to get the smug smile off his face and slides his wet cock between the two mounds of muscle.
It's not like fucking and it's not like getting sucked off; in a lot of ways, it's less easy, more frustrating, the partial friction imperfect, but by the Norns does Loki love it. The gorgeous span of Thor's chest is his to use a he pleases and he has the best view of Thor's face, his reddened lips and gleaming eye, gaze flitting between Loki's own face and between the rosy tip of Loki's cock where it thrusts between Thor's tits.
Not breaking eye contact, Thor ducks his head low enough that when he sticks his tongue out, he manages to just lick the head.
“Fuck,” Loki spits out. This won't do. He's already breaking apart. Blindly, he gropes behind himself, wrapping his fingers around Thor's cock, finding it gratifyingly hard. He gives it one long, drawn out stroke and even though he's reaching back a bit awkwardly, the muscle memory almost makes his head spin. The girth, the soft skin, Thor's copious pre-send all make for a sensation he could never forget and he smiles faintly as he starts to quicken his strokes, matching them to the way his hips are working against the slick skin of Thor's chest.
There's a gleam of sweat on Thor's forehead now and while he's no longer smiling, there's something near elation lighting his features up.
Like, even after everything, there is nowhere else he would rather be than on this slow, rural planet with his brother's cock fucking between his tits.
“I don't know if I'll be able to give this up once we're back on the ship,” Loki admits through gritted teeth, because as far as fuck-drunk admissions go, this one feels safe enough.
“We don't have to,” Thor gasps in reply and thrusts his hips up, chasing a firmer, faster touch of Loki's hand. Loki gives it to him, not sure why he should deny either of them.
“I'm your brother,” Loki says, intending to go on, finish that sentence, somehow, remind Thor of the reality, but it's too late as Thor's eye closes and he moans, hips twitching as he spills all over Loki's hand.
Fuck. Fuck.
He strokes Thor until he twitches in protest and then brings his come-streaked hand to wrap it around his own cock, groaning in pleasure at the added slickness and the knowledge that he's spreading something so intimately Thor's all over his skin. And Thor seems to like it too, offering the valley between his pecs with renewed vigour even though he seems pleasantly flushed and sleepy now that he has spent.
It's been too long; before Loki knows it, hotness is welling in his belly and then he's coming all over Thor's chest, splattering his neck and chin, leaving shiny streaks all over his skin. Thor lets go, slowly, dipping his fingers into Loki's come, spreading it pointedly all over, laving his nipples, all the while looking up at Loki's face. Loki is not able to hold his gaze, eyes instead falling to where Thor is rubbing the mixture of their spend into his skin.
Was Thor always this shameless or did Loki simply choose to forget it? To bar himself from the memory that served as proof that Thor was unashamed and open in all that they did?
In the face of this easy acceptance of their shared need, Loki's doubt and sourness seem especially ugly.
“What's wrong?” Thor asks, startling him.
“Nothing.” Thor raises his eyebrows at that. “Nothing, really, I was just... it's been a while.”
Thor seems to accept that only warily but nods anyway and Loki slowly slides off him. Thor doesn't let him go far and they end up lying pressed side to side, fingers twining together. Loki hooks his ankle between Thor's.
“Wash now or in the morning?” Thor murmurs.
“Are you asking my good reason or my lazy limbs?”
“Fair enough,” Thor laughs and gets up. Loki near well dozes off before he comes back from the adjoining room with some wet cloth to wipe them both off. He stays awake just long enough to enjoy Thor's hands on him in a way that feels erotic despite his exhaustion and despite the fact that the water he's using is damn cold. And, of course, long enough to watch Thor carefully wipe at his own chest. Loki burrows underneath the covers, searching warmth, knowing it will get much better once Thor joins him. So lovely, his brother. Too lovely.
“I've missed you,” Thor admits once they are finally, truly settled for the night, spooning underneath the blankets like they did when they were young.
Loki opens his mouth, then closes it. All the sleeplessness of the past hours is gone, he's nearly under. There's a lot he could say to that, but perhaps, for now, something safe will do. Thor will understand.
“Fool.”