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"I'm here."
Thor almost drops his glass. Loki throws the cap of the decanter back at him and Thor catches it without even looking, eyes fixed on his brother, mouth curling into a smile.
"You're here," he repeats. He can scarcely believe it.
A faint smirk plays on Loki's lips. "Truly your powers of observation grow sharper every day. Tell me now, Thor, what were you saying about a hug?"
Thor sets the glass down and steps closer. Even though Loki's tone is flippant as usual, there's tension in his posture and he seems ready to flee should Thor raise his hand against him. He almost flinches when Thor wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a bear hug.
Loki is still for a long moment before relenting and burying his face against Thor's shoulder. His hands wrap around Thor's back, holding him close. Thor bows his head and closes his eyes. Like this, he can almost imagine that they're back in their childhood room at the palace, making up after a squabble. Even Loki's smell is achingly familiar to him.
An eternity passes before they step back. Thor stares dumbly at his brother and finds himself at a loss for words; as for Loki, his silver tongue has deserted him, for he's saying nothing.
Thor retrieves the glass of liquor he poured for himself and hands it to Loki, then pours more into another glass. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Loki sits down at one end of the couch, crossing his long legs in front of him at the ankle.
Loki raises his glass and takes a tiny sip. Thor downs his in one gulp; the amber liquor is smooth and burns as it goes down his throat.
"Why are you here? Are you trying to kill me again?"
"I'm wounded you would think so," Loki sighs. "And after I saved you and your Asgardians, even though they would all have me dead."
"Not all of them."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
Thor refills the glass and goes to sit at the opposite end of the couch. "Not all Asgardians want you dead," he insists. "Even though you give them plenty of reasons to. Every time I try to trust you, you end up stabbing me in the back."
Loki takes another sip. "Do you want to throw me into a cell again?"
Thor shakes his head, weary. That's not what he wants. He doesn't know what he wants – or rather, he does. He wants all sorts of impossible things: Asgard whole and safe, his mother and father, his brother by his side. They drink in silence.
"You used to call me brother," Loki says after a while, as if reading Thor's confused thoughts.
Thor swirls the remains of the liquor in his glass. "You are still my brother."
"You say it in a mocking voice now, and you can scarcely bear to look at me."
It hurts to look, remembering all the betrayals. Remembering how he already mourned Loki twice and was about to mourn him a third time. Maybe he should lock him up. Maybe he's a fool.
Thor wishes he could refill his glass again, but the bottle is too far. "Why are you like this?"
"Why is anyone like they are?" Loki asks, staring into his glass. His voice is low in the quiet room.
"You're not pure evil," Thor insists. "I know there's good in you, I've seen it! Why then, Loki? Why do you do the things you do?"
Loki shrugs one shoulder. "Goodness is so boring. Chaos is much more interesting."
"Why did you betray me once again after trying to trick me into believing I had my brother back?"
At that, Loki is silent.
"Is it all a game for you?"
A casual shrug of his shoulders. "Why not? Since I can't have what I always wanted the most."
Thor freezes under Loki's intent stare. "I'd give anything to have my brother back, but not the throne. You can't have that." He doesn't need to add because you're not worthy but there's no need to. Odin's words hang heavy in the air between them.
Loki, however, shakes his head. "It was never the throne that I wanted the most."
Thor gives him a disbelieving look.
"It's not," Loki insists. "Haven't you realised?"
He puts aside his empty glass and leans in. Thor is so focused on Loki's hands, searching for a telltale glint of metal or hidden knives, that he doesn't notice how close they are until Loki kisses him. The glass slips from Thor's fingers, smashing into a million crystal shards on the floor.
The inside of Loki's mouth is scalding hot as he presses his tongue insistently against Thor's. He tastes like the liquor they've both been drinking, like fire and ice. Thor wraps one arm around his waist to steady him as Loki presses himself to his chest and licks deeper into his mouth.
It's nothing like the kisses they exchanged as youths; there's nothing at all chaste in this. Loki tangles his fingers in the short hair at the nape of Thor's head, tilting his head back, kissing him with desperation until they're both out of breath and panting into the same small space.
Loki is the first to regain the power of speech. "Now you know, brother." There's a mocking edge to the word.
Thor feels like the glass – shattered into pieces. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I would think it clear enough."
Loki's arms are still around Thor. They're so close, Thor can feel Loki's breath against his lips, his heartbeat in sync with his own. He doesn't know how to put thoughts into words. He doesn't know if there's anything left in his mind save for the memory of Loki's lips on his, burning like a brand. Yet he must say it.
"Loki," Thor says and it's as if the words are being dragged from his throat by sheer effort, "you're my brother."
Something dark flashes in Loki's gaze. "We both know that I'm not."
For the first time Thor wishes Hela had stayed her hand, so he could look properly into Loki's two eyes. "Even though we share no blood. Even though so much blood fell between us. You are and always will be my brother, Loki."
"Empty words," Loki murmurs, eyes drifting away. "Thoughtlessly spoken and soon forgotten."
Thor grips Loki by the shoulders, fingers digging into his armour. "I mean it," he growls.
"I can't be your brother. More than that, I can't be your lover." Loki still won't look at him. "Yet I can't stop myself from wanting to be both. You asked me why I am as I am, Thor: this is the madness that consumes me."
A shiver goes down Thor's spine. Loki makes as if to move away but Thor wraps his hands around his brother's arms and holds him still. Thor searches his face; Loki looks older than he was when they last met, and at the same time unchanged.
"Since when, Loki?" The question is a low plea.
Loki shakes his head. "Forever. Since before I remember."
Thor cups the side of Loki's face so that they're looking at each other. How could he not see it?
"Please." Loki's voice is barely a whisper. Thor can't remember the last time his brother said the word. "Let me go. Forget about this."
Thor cannot. Should the entirety of the cosmos be destroyed and reborn anew, he would not be able to erase the memory.
Their second kiss is gentler, slower. Thor cradles the back of Loki's neck with his hand and holds him close while he explores his lips. How is it possible, he wonders, to know someone so well and yet not at all?
Loki sighs against him and parts his lips. Thor traces the inside of Loki's mouth and drags his tongue along the edges of Loki's teeth, and Loki lets out a low moan as he arches against Thor.
When Thor pulls back, Loki's green eyes are half-closed and he's panting hard. Thor can't help but notice how his brother – he who always tries so hard to hide his emotions behind a cold mask – is trembling now in his arms.
"Is this a trick?" Thor asks, his voice low and rougher than it should be after only a few kisses.
Loki swallows and licks his lips. "No trick."
Thor doesn't know if he can believe it, and the doubt hurts like a blade through his heart. Still he kisses Loki again and again until those pale lips turn swollen and red. They're pressed together chest to chest and nose to nose and still Loki clings to him as if that's not close enough. Thor can only hold Loki and kiss him and pray this is real. If it's a trick, it's Loki's best yet.
"Let me go," Loki says again, his voice not quite steady. "Let's stop this, Thor. I can't– I won't have you hate me in the morning."
Still he makes no move to step away, clinging to Thor with all his strength. Thor can't look away from his eyes. "There's no morning in the depths of space," Thor says in a low breath. He can barely believe what he's suggesting. When he shifts in his seat he can feel his half-hard manhood press against the front of his pants.
Loki must have noticed too. "Thor…"
"I could never hate you," Thor says. "No matter what happens." Or what does not happen, though the way Loki is looking at him leaves little room for doubt. Thor cups Loki's cheek, thumb tracing the line of his bones. "Do you want this?"
Loki exhales and nods, almost imperceptibly, and for a moment Thor can't breathe.
They stumble towards the bed. Broken glass cracks under Thor's boot but he doesn't pay it any notice, focused as he is on running his hands over Loki's chest and back, picking at the edges of his unfamiliar clothes to try and find the fastenings. He finds none and growls in frustration. Even Loki's Midgardian clothes would have been better – at least Thor would have known how to open those.
They tumble into bed with Loki sprawled on the mattress under Thor, still annoyingly fully clothed. The alien leather feels warm and soft under Thor's palms. "Take this off," Thor says. His thumbs brush Loki's collarbone.
Loki breathes out, slow, and his eyes flash a brighter green. In a blink, his clothes ripple out of existence. Suddenly there's bare skin under Thor's palms – he can only stare at Loki, long pale limbs spread over dark sheets.
Loki's lips curl into the semblance of a smirk. "You see, Thor, my magic does have its uses."
For all that his brother's tone is light, Thor doesn't miss the way his stomach muscles tense up, nor the way his eyes look anxiously up at him. He used to be teased for being scrawny as a child, Thor remembers, and at some point developed an aversion to being seen wearing anything less than full clothes.
Loki doesn't look scrawny now. His body is lean but well muscled, as perfect as a marble statue. Thor leans down to press their lips together as he runs his fingers down Loki's side and traces the sharp ridges of his ribs.
"If you'd rather," Loki says when they break the kiss, "I could turn into someone else. I know you prefer women–"
"No." The word comes out sharper than he meant. Thor tries to soften his voice. "I don't want someone else. I want you."
For a moment he wonders if he said the wrong thing, for Loki seems frozen with shock. Then Loki surges forward and pulls him into another kiss, harsher and deeper, that steals his breath and makes him forget anything else he might have said.
Loki moves his hands down Thor's back. There's a brief tingling sensation and sudden coolness on Thor's skin as his armour and clothes dissipate, quickly replaced by heat wherever he and Loki are pressed together. Thor groans against Loki's lips as his manhood slides between their stomachs.
"Thor…" Loki moans. "Can I…?"
"Yes." Thor doesn't need to know what it is that Loki wants to do. If he's asking with that voice, with those half-lidded eyes, Thor will give him anything he desires.
He's surprised when Loki pushes against his shoulder, so he doesn't put up any resistance. Loki easily flips the two of them and reverses their positions so that Thor is the one now pinned to the mattress. Thor can't complain about the change, though, especially not when Loki trails a path of kisses down his chest and belly.
Loki pauses a moment to tuck his hair behind one ear. Thor doesn't have time to realise what he plans to do before he leans down and takes Thor into his mouth. Thor bites his lips to muffle a cry. The inside of Loki's mouth is scalding hot against his sensitive skin.
Thor has to fight the urge to thrust his hips roughly against Loki's mouth as Loki bobs his head up and down and works his tongue on the underside of Thor's manhood. Instead, he curls his fingers at the nape of Loki's neck and tries to match his movements.
Loki is good at this – almost too good, Thor thinks as Loki's tongue teases his slit and his back arches off the bed. Soon enough, the quiet room fills with loud wet sounds and unrestrained moans. Thor has had the act performed on him countless times and always enjoyed it, but never like this before: it's as if Loki has been starving and Thor is a banquet spread before him.
Thor's toes curl as Loki swallows him to the root. He can feel the tip of his manhood brushing against the back of Loki's throat. Whenever Loki moans, Thor feels the vibrations with his whole body. The hand that's not on Loki tangles into the sheets.
"Loki…" Thor groans, low in his throat, as Loki wraps his long fingers around the base of his manhood. Much as Thor would like to prolong this, to remain like this forever, he can already feel his pleasure mounting as inevitable as a tide.
Loki looks up at him, his eyes as bright as a cat's in the dim light. He twists his tongue around the head of Thor's manhood and sucks. With a shudder, Thor comes in hot spurts in Loki's mouth. His vision goes dark and for several long moments he can't feel anything but intense pleasure as Loki swallows him down, teasing the last of his release from him.
Thor collapses on the bed like a dead weight, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Not since he was a youth has he spent himself so quickly and with so few touches. In this, too, Loki knows him well. Thor almost expects a mocking retort, but Loki is uncharacteristically quiet.
Panting, Loki sits back on his haunches and wipes his thumb across the corner of his mouth; his untouched erection strains red against his pale stomach. With some effort, for it seems that his thoughts have been turned to mush, Thor reaches out for Loki and pulls him down next to him.
When they kiss, Thor can taste himself on Loki's lips, salty and bitter all at once. He rolls over Loki and slides one hand between Loki's legs, palming him; his reward is a series of increasingly louder whines. Loki's manhood is silky and heavy in Thor's grip. Thor strokes him and Loki cries out, pressing his wet mouth against Thor's shoulder to muffle the noise.
"Not… Not yet." Loki reaches blindly and wraps his fingers around Thor's wrist. He lifts his head. His pupils are blown wide, the irises just a sliver of green, and his voice is wrecked. "I want to feel you inside me."
Thor could make Loki beg for it. The part of him that's still angry and hurt from all the betrayals wants to leave Loki cold and unsatisfied and as miserable as Thor himself has felt those past years when he remembered the brother he lost.
He can't leave now, though: they both want this too much. Thor's manhood is already stirring again between his legs. Thor runs one hand up Loki's spine in a soothing gesture as he murmurs acquiescence against Loki's lips. "We need oil." Thor tears his gaze from Loki's face and glances around. "Where…?" Surely the previous owner of the ship kept it well stocked.
Loki slides his fingers around Thor's biceps. "No need." His eyelids flutter and his eyes flash. Untouched, he moans again. "Just take me," he says in a low voice.
Thor is already moving his hands down, past the slight swell of Loki's arse. He parts Loki's legs, spreading his thighs wide, and presses the tip of his thumb against Loki's entrance. Loki moans again, low in his throat, turning his head to one side to press his cheek against the mattress.
"Magic again?" Thor leans forward to whisper the question in Loki's ear. His thumb slides easily inside Loki up to the first knuckle. He nuzzles Loki's brow as he slowly slides out.
Loki exhales in short staccato breaths. "Useful, isn't it? It's… quicker. Like this." His chest is rising and falling with each movement Thor makes, each press of Thor's digits. His eyes flutter closed and he arches his back as Thor crooks two fingers inside him.
It's almost too easy to slide inside Loki. Thor could replace his fingers with his manhood and he has no doubt Loki's body would take him. But he feels almost cheated by Loki's magic – he wanted to be the one to tease him open one touch at a time. So Thor presses his fingers inside Loki, slowly, and rubs against that spot that makes him quiver and moan uncontrollably.
When Thor adds a third finger, Loki shuts his eyes and bites his lower lip to stop himself from crying out. Thor kisses him, prying his teeth open with his tongue, and Loki whimpers and moans into his mouth with each slow stroke.
Loki takes his manhood with one shaky hand, but instead of stroking himself he squeezes the base, keeping his release at bay. "Thor, please…" Loki exhales and inhales, his breath coming fast. Thor crooks his fingers again and Loki shudders around him. His manhood is already leaking precome over his stomach. "Please…"
Thor has every intention to. He withdraws his fingers – Loki hisses at the loss – and wipes them on one thigh. When Loki tries to roll over, Thor puts one hand on his hips to stop him. "I want to look at your face."
Loki's eyes go wide but he nods. There's a dark flush on his pale cheekbones, on his neck, all the way to his chest. Thor spreads Loki's thighs wider, so that Loki is open in front of him like an obscene painting. It takes only a few strokes for Thor to go from half hard to hard enough it hurts. It's the sweetest pain Loki has ever given him.
Thor lines himself at Loki's entrance and catches Loki's gaze, waits for him to nod before pushing through the taut ring of muscle and burying himself inside. Loki lets out a choked gasp, barely audible, as if there's no breath left in his lungs. His arms wrap around Thor's shoulders for support and his nails rake down Thor's spine. Thor grunts and pulls back almost completely before slamming into Loki hard enough that they both cry out.
It's not gentle. They're past tenderness, the two of them. Thor moves over Loki at a brutal pace, claiming him with the desperation of all their lost years. Loki feels impossibly tight around Thor, yet he wraps his legs around Thor's waist to draw him ever deeper and sways his hips to match Thor's thrusts.
There was a time when Loki was indifferent to the act of making love. He would huff with annoyance and strive to change the subject whenever Thor started to talk about his conquests. Back then, Loki had tried to mask his ignorance, no doubt dismayed that there would be something Thor knew better than him, but his silences and blushes made it clear that he'd never had a lover.
Not any more. Loki moves his hips with practised rhythm as he urges Thor faster and faster, pressing his mouth to the side of Thor's neck and moaning obscenities into his skin. He feels good around Thor – too good, almost. How many men and women has Loki taken to bed, to become this good? Thor is filled with sudden burning jealousy for anyone else who ever had Loki. Anyone who saw him bare and sweaty, trembling with pleasure. Anyone who touched his pearl skin and was inside him before.
With a snarl, Thor grabs Loki's legs and nearly bends him in two as he hooks Loki's legs over his own shoulders. With the next push, he buries himself so deep inside Loki that he wonders if they'll ever be able to break apart. He wishes they wouldn't. If it were possible, Thor would spend a lifetime thrusting between Loki's legs.
It isn't possible. Already Loki is trembling and pressing his fingers to the base of his manhood to stave off his release. Thor, too, feels a familiar tightening in his balls as each thrust brings him closer and closer. Thor leans forward to kiss Loki, tangling their tongues together.
"Loki." Thor groans against his lips, into his mouth. "Loki." He presses a biting kiss to Loki's neck, to Loki's collarbone, closes his teeth around a dark nipple and sucks.
Loki arches under him with a moan. Thor slides one hand between their bodies and wraps his fingers around Loki's manhood. With the first rough stroke, Loki cries out. Thor slides his palm over Loki's shaft, slick with precome, matching the rhythm of his thrusts until Loki is clinging to him and moaning his name with a broken voice. "Thor," Loki says, again and again, and then, "Please."
"Yes," Thor says, because he cannot deny Loki this. "Yes, brother."
His hips falter as he thrusts one more time, until he's buried to the hilt and he's spilling inside Loki while Loki comes apart around him. Thor feels himself fall forward; he feels like he's being broken into pieces and remade anew.
When Thor comes to, he can't tell how much time has passed – minutes, or perhaps hours or days. Loki still has his arms around him and he's looking up at Thor with half-closed eyes. His lips are slightly parted and he's still struggling to catch his breath. Loki doesn't say anything, even though Thor's weight is no doubt crushing him into the mattress.
"Sorry," Thor murmurs. He props himself on his arms and slides out of Loki – slowly, for Loki hisses with each movement.
Loki swallows. "Why do you apologise?"
Thor blinks as he stares down at Loki. Loki, always so prim and put together, looks like a complete wreck. His skin is covered by a slight sheen of sweat, his stomach is spattered with come. His dark hair is spread out like a tangled halo over the sheets. His neck and chest are covered with bite marks and the red imprints of Thor's hands.
Thor feels at once embarrassed and proud of his work. "I'm– I fear I hurt you. And–"
Loki shuts him with two fingers on his lips. "I am not made of porcelain and you have done nothing I didn't want." A pause. "Don't say you regret this." He sounds strange, until Thor realises he's not speaking with sarcasm or mockery or annoyance. His gentle voice makes Thor think of their youth.
"I regret nothing," Thor says against Loki's fingers.
It's not entirely the truth. Thor regrets the path that brought them here through strife and death. He should have kissed Loki ages ago in Asgard. He should have been the first one to take Loki to bed, as Loki should have been his first. They would have laughed as they explored each other's bodies. It would not have mattered that neither of them were experienced, for they would have had a lifetime to learn together. The thought almost chokes Thor, until Loki replaces his fingers with his mouth and kisses him.
"If it's not regret," Loki murmurs when they break apart, "why the long face?"
Thor shakes his head. "Nothing." He's becoming quite adept at deception himself. "It's been a long day and I feel exhausted. Twice exhausted." At least the satisfaction in his voice is genuine.
Loki's lips curve up at that. "We should get some sleep then."
He curls against Thor's side, like they've done countless times since they were children. Their bodies fit together – Loki's knee between Thor's legs, Thor's hand splayed against Loki's back, Loki's head tucked under Thor's chin.
"Sleep well," Thor says.
Loki hums in response, either already nodding off or pretending to. He looks so peaceful in sleep that Thor can almost pretend that the two of them are young again and back on Asgard, that their world is whole and safe. Perhaps, if only Thor had been able to sort his own twisted feelings, there would have been a way for the two of them to be together instead of drifting apart.
Yet Thor knows, deep in his heart, that it would not have been possible. He could not have kissed Loki in Asgard, could not have taken his brother to bed. Not when he was young and so sure that everything was either black or white. The idea of deceiving his parents and his friends and the entire realm would have eaten at him.
Loki must have known, Thor thinks. That must be why Loki only kissed him now, when all they have to lose is each other. Thor will cling to that belief, otherwise he might go mad thinking about what could have been.
The past cannot be changed. The future is unfathomable. Thor doesn't know yet if he can trust Loki or what Loki's intentions are – he has a feeling not even Loki knows for sure. The only certainty is Loki's warmth next to him, his weight as Loki shifts in his sleep and wraps his arms around Thor.
It's enough for now. It will have to be. Thor pulls Loki closer and lets sleep claim him as the ship carries the two of them to their unknown future.