Chapter Text
It comes less than a month after Ragnarok. Loki figures it was inevitable, what with all the fucking they’ve been doing. (Thor calls it making love, and Loki scoffs every time, though something in his heart always aches a little). It feels as if Loki has barely left Thor’s bed in the weeks since that first night on the ship, when a hug had turned into something more.
Though he hadn’t exactly been chomping at the bit to learn more about Jötunn biology when he had first discovered his true heritage, Loki had read just enough to understand how his body worked. And it had made him feel even more like some sort of base monster, if that was possible.
Jötunar possessed two biological traits that set them apart from the Aesir. First, Frost Giants were all intersex. Each individual could sire and also carry a child, which partner performed what role was usually decided by who managed to mount the other first during coupling. The glamour Odin had initially placed on Loki when he took him from Jötunheimr had made Loki outwardly male. Out of habit, Loki had taken to continuing to present himself that way. A part of Loki knows that he also keeps the glamours up to avoid being ridiculed by his bedmates. No-one has ever seen his true form, not really.
Secondly, Jötunar underwent a sort of…heat. Loki hates that word. It makes him feel like some sort of broodmare. The heat could happen up to three times a year, though often it only happened once or twice. It wasn’t on a set cycle, either. Jötunn heats were triggered by the presence of a biologically compatible mate, as well as an…emotional component. The heat could not be triggered without the Jötunn having a strong emotional bond with their chosen partner. The textbooks Loki had read mentioned this was likely to increase the chances that the subsequent offspring grew up in a stable environment. The fact that there’s a scientific explanation for it doesn’t make Loki feel any better.
The ship itself is artificially kept humid, and with their turning off the cooling system in order to preserve energy as well as the sheer volume of bodies crammed into one place, Loki is always hot. His Aesir form can handle the temperature, though not as well as the true-blood Asgardians that he’s surrounded by. Sometimes, on nights when Thor is too busy to share his bed, Loki flops on the cold floor of his quarters and lets his glamours unwind. He watches dully as ice crystals form on the walls around him, and blows out gusty breaths of frigid air. His room stays relatively cool for a couple hours after, even when he’s transformed back into his pale, peach skin.
Loki figures this is why he doesn’t realize what’s happening to him until a couple days into his cycle. He’s laying in bed with Thor after one of their…bouts when he groans and rolls out from under the sweaty arm Thor has thrown possessively over his waist.
“Did we turn on the heat?” He asks, and Thor cracks his eye open to peer down at him.
“No, I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”
“I’m melting,” Loki whinges, sitting up and gathering his sweat-damp hair at the base of his neck. “It feels like an Asgardian summer in here.”
“Well we did just perform some…vigorous exercise,” Thor teases suggestively, and then yelps when Loki gives him an elbow to the ribs.
Loki swings his legs over the side of the bed, groaning a bit at the soreness in his thighs and lower back, and a strange new soreness in his groin that he writes off to Thor’s earlier enthused fellatio session. “I’m going to take a cold shower,” He declares, before glancing over his shoulder at the King of Asgard, who has splayed out like a starfish in Loki’s share of the bed. “I suggest you do too, if you don’t want to wake up plastered to the sheets.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you have ulterior motives in mind than just my comfort?” His brother asks with a faint smirk, and Loki gives him the eye.
“Fine, go to bed covered in come. See if I care.”
They go another two rounds in the shower, and Loki comes out of it just as hot as he was before. When he sleeps, he does so on top of the sheets, kicking Thor to the far side of the mattress. That doesn’t last long, though, as Loki wakes not much later with his oaf of a brother spooned up against his back.
Two days after that, his seiðr begins to unwind. Loki very rarely loses control of his magic, the last time being when Frigga had died. He’s in the midst of healing a burn one of Thor’s fellow ex-contenders sustained while fiddling with a faulty wire when the aquamarine light coming from his fingertips whips back and bowls Loki over. When he comes back to himself, blinking stars from his eyes, he realizes it’s left a deep cut across his cheek. Apologizing profusely to the gob smacked-looking being, Loki beats a hasty retreat back to his quarters.
The constant heat, his sorcery, the odd, persistent ache in his abdomen, they all begin to make sense, and Loki watches in horror as blue begins to eat at his fingertips. He’s not going to be able to keep up his Aesir skin for much longer.
It’s not horribly out of place for Loki to refuse an invitation to share Thor’s bed, though in the last few weeks he’s basically moved into Thor’s quarters. A fair amount of his trinkets and rings litter Thor’s nightstand, and he’s left his skin and hair cleansers in the attached washroom. The fact that Loki barely sticks his head out of the door when Thor comes knocking and snaps out “go away” is probably what signals to Thor that something is wrong. His brother, bless him, does try to leave him alone for a few days, during which time Loki’s careful control deteriorates rapidly. His glamours melt away, leaving Loki with nothing but monstrous, horrible blue in his vision every time he opens his eyes. Though he has reverted to Jötunn form, the transformation no longer cools him. It as if the feverish heat has burrowed deep into his very core and made its home there. His breath still creates crystals in the air around him, but it comes fast and panting now. He sweats what he feels like must be enough to fill a lake, and he can only manage about half an hour of sleep at a time before his body wakes him again.
The worst part is the constant gaping ache he feels inside of him, like something is missing. Loki’s not so far gone that he doesn’t recognize the irony in his situation as he rocks against the three slick fingers he has pushed inside of his newest orifice. He’s spent nearly every night of the past few weeks with Thor so far inside him that he can feel it in his throat, and now that he needs Thor like air, needs him so deep that he fills up every empty corner Loki has, the dolt is nowhere to be found. Loki curls his fingers and brushes something inside of him that sends him hurtling over the edge, coming with a cry of Thor’s name.
As he lays, dazed, on the crumpled sheets that he’s nested in on the floor, Loki muses that it’s unfair that he’s blaming Thor for not being around. It’s not like Loki would actually let him into this room if he asked. He would rather suffer the disgust and scorn of a thousand bedmates before seeing the same reflected in Thor’s eyes. Loki’s a monster, some sort of unnatural half-breed, and even good, kind Thor could never accept Loki for what he truly is.
So, Loki sighs to himself as he pulls his fingers out of his cunt to give his neglected cock some attention, he’s just going to have to ride this out by himself.
The next couple days pass in a blur of wake, come, sleep, repeat. Loki thinks he manages to drag himself to the shower and sit under the assault of ice-cold water for a while, but he can’t remember much at all. Eating is obviously out of the question, as he can’t go gallivanting down to the kitchens in the state he’s in, and his seiðr has all but abandoned him, leaving even a simple transport spell beyond his reach. When he has the strength, Loki forces himself up to fill a pitcher with water from the bathroom sink. Often, after masturbating himself half to death, he’ll down the whole thing in one go before passing out into a dead slumber.
It’s from one of these dozes that Loki is awoken by the sound of banging on his door. He groans and rolls over, blinking blearily across the room, and hopes that whoever it is will just fuck off if he doesn’t acknowledge them.
No such luck. The knocking continues, and Loki shakily takes a gulp of water from the pitcher by his head before clearing his throat.
“…Yes?” His voice is rough from disuse, and Loki winces a bit at how it sounds.
“Loki,” and oh, Norns, it’s Thor, it’s Thor, and just the sound of his voice sends a wave of heat crashing through Loki’s belly, gathering wetness in the folds of his monstrous anatomy. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. I just wanted to check on you,” His brother’s voice sounds concerned, and Loki would probably feel abashed if he wasn’t so damned horny.
“I’m—”and Loki has to stop to quell the shake to his voice. “I’m just fine, thank you.” It’s taking what’s left of his frayed willpower to stay put on the floor and not rush over to throw the door open and drag Thor in to this misery with him. “You may go.”
It’s silent for a moment, and Loki’s just begun to think Thor has left, when his brother speaks again. “I…have I done something to displease you?” He asks, and there’s just a tint of hurt to his voice that has Loki scrubbing at his brow in dismay. Thor’s probably out there with that kicked-puppy look upon his face that Loki has never been able to resist. “I promise I am very sorry for whatever slight I may have committed. I would…ask for a chance to right it, if you would grant me that.”
“Thor, I—” And his voice cracks again, but Loki presses on. “It is not a problem you have caused.” And well, that isn’t exactly true, though Thor hadn’t wittingly caused it. “It is nothing you have done.”
“So there is a problem,” Thor states, and Loki curses himself for letting that slip. He’s usually so careful with his words. “Loki, let me in, please. I want to help.”
“Thor, it’s not—I— “
“How long has it been since you ate? Drank? How long have you been locked in your quarters?”
“I— “
“Loki,” Thor says, and his tone holds the finality of when the God of Thunder has made up his mind about something. “Open the door or I’m going to break it.”
His body slumps in defeat. “You might as well break it,” Loki says. “I’m not so confident in my ability to stand.”
And if that doesn’t have the door handle flying off its welding and crashing into the opposite wall in about two seconds flat.
Thor’s face splits in shock when he takes in the scene before him: Loki, now blue-skinned and red-eyed, with small horns sprouting from the wild black hair gathered at the base of his neck. He’s bare as the day he was born, sitting in the array of sheets, towels and clothing he’s managed to gather to nest himself in.
“Shut the door,” Loki says quietly, and Thor gives a dumb nod, doing as he’s asked. As he does so, Loki carefully ties an old tunic around his waist, so as to cover himself.
“What…” Thor begins, but seems struck speechless for a moment, gaze roaming over Loki and making him feel split raw. Heat creeps up his neck and ears, flushing his skin to what Loki now knows is a deep indigo color.
“Loki, what happened?” Thor finally asks, and Loki looks down at his black, pointed nails picking at the beading of the tunic in his lap. There’s not much use in lying now, not with the determined look on Thor’s face that says he’ll be staying put until Loki tells him the truth.
“How much do you know of Jötunn biology?” Loki asks quietly, not looking up.
“…I admit, not much,” Thor replies, carefully squatting down so he’s at Loki’s sitting height. A gentle finger at Loki’s chin tips his head up so he meets Thor’s gaze. Loki doesn’t have the sanctity of mind to wonder why his skin doesn’t burn Thor. “When I had attempted to find scrolls on the subject, mother had told me that the Frost Giants were particularly secretive about those matters.”
This gives Loki pause, and he searches Thor’s face closely. “You looked for scrolls?”
Thor’s expression is honest as he replies. “I did,” He says, and Loki can feel his thumb tracing one of the raised dark whorls imprinted on his skin. “After you fell from the Bifrost, I wanted to learn more. About your original heritage, that is. I wanted to understand.”
Loki doesn’t know exactly what to think of that, and he can only hold Thor’s gaze for so long. He glances down again when he realizes that Thor’s sky blue eye has been looking into Loki’s own blood red this whole time. Thor had often commented in the past about his love for the green eyes of Loki’s Asgardian self.
“Loki,” Thor says, softly, but does not urge him to look up again. “Do not hide from me. Tell me why this is happening.”
He might as well just get this out into the open, then. “Jötunar take longer to mature than other beings,” He explains, picking nervously at the bed of his nails out of habit. “Quite a few years longer than Aesir, in fact. If I was on Jötunheimr, I would be considered early into my sexual maturity. Something about older individuals being more suited to care for their offspring, and all.” He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until one of Thor’s broad palms covers them. He glances up to see Thor’s face, open and earnest. He truly only wants to know what’s going on, Loki snorts internally. He wonders how long it will take before Thor wishes he hadn’t come knocking.
“When Jötunar reach their coming-of-age, they have typically already chosen the partner that they wish to, erm…” Heat swells up his neck and face again. “Procreate with. The presence of said mate can trigger a certain sexual response, one that is similar to that of a…” Loki shakes his head and forces himself to meet Thor’s gaze. “A heat.”
Thor’s expression shifts from that of contemplation to one of surprise, and Loki suddenly finds a swath of paneling on the opposite wall in need of his scrutiny. “I really am some sort of base monster, aren’t I?” He asks humorlessly, though his tone conveys mirth as a defense mechanism. “Eat, fuck, sleep. I suppose you wish you hadn’t asked, now.”
Thor’s hand tightens over his, and Loki looks up to see that his face has hardened. “Don’t call yourself that,” He says sternly, before carefully pulling one of Loki’s hands to him, using his index finger to trace the swirling lines that dance across it. “Never call yourself a monster, Loki, for you are not. You are a being. This is your biology. It is nothing to be ashamed of.” He presses a kiss to Loki’s palm, which sends Loki’s heart stuttering in his chest. “I see nothing to hide.”
Stunned speechless for a moment, (Thor seems able to do that more and more, lately), Loki can only gawp at his brother lamely as Thor takes two of his fingers between his lips, sucking playfully. It causes a throb in his cock and his cunt both. A twinkling blue eye looks up and meet Loki’s own mischievously.
“So you have chosen me for your mate?” Thor asks, gently teasing, and Loki scoffs.
“Don’t be dull. I chose you eons ago. It’s just that now your insufferable presence can actually make me physically miserable as well as mentally and emotionally.”
To any other being it would sound like an insult, but Thor knows Loki too well, has the uncanny ability to see past every wall and defense Loki has ever crafted. So his brother simply smiles set to rival the sun and tugs Loki into his lap.
The half-hardness Loki lands on makes him gasp, and the little squirm he gives in response draws a growl from Thor’s throat.
“As much as I adore your Aesir skin,” Thor drawls, before dipping to kiss open-mouthed at Loki’s bare shoulder, “I must admit, this color on you is particularly…fetching.”
“Really?” Loki snorts, but it shifts into a startled moan as Thor rolls his hips up against Loki’s own. The dazed look he gives Thor in response earns him another sunny grin.
“Really,” He says cheekily, and Loki’s answering scoff hides just a hint of a smile.
“Idiot,” Loki says.
“Brat,” Thor replies, and then his mouth is on Loki’s.
Loki can’t hold in a pitiful little whine as he tips his head to the side to allow Thor better access. He’s been in want of this for days, and just the taste of Thor’s lips seems to fill some of the gaping emptiness inside of him. It’s not enough, though, and before Loki can think about what he’s doing, he’s giving a frustrated grunt and toppling Thor back onto the nest of cloth behind him.
His brother actually looks a little stunned, but Loki doesn’t have much time to be proud of himself. Thor cups Loki’s hips in his overly-large hands and begins a rolling grind up against him that makes Loki see stars. Loki’s eyes glaze, and a ringlet of shiny black hair falls from where it’s been gathered at the base of his neck. Thor reaches up to tuck it behind his ear. They just watch each other, panting, for a moment, before the king begins to speak.
“You’ve been locked in here, gagging for my cock, for how long, now?”
The steel-fire look that Loki would normally give him in response for such language seems a little half-hearted this time. “Three days.”
Thor hums, mock-thoughtfully, before moving one of his hands up to cup Loki’s erection through the tunic he has tied about his waist. “Three days. And what have you been doing for three days, little Loki?”
“Don’t call me—guh,” he breaks off into a moan as Thor squeezes. “What do you think I’ve been doing?” And he rocks forward into Thor’s hand, trying to get more friction, but the oaf keeps his grip intentionally light.
“I really don’t think I can know if you don’t tell me.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Loki hisses, and bares his elongated, sharpened canines for good measure. Thor simply chuckles before lifting an eyebrow at him, moving his hand away.
The whine Loki gives in response sounds almost pained. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ve been pleasuring myself. Is that what you wanted to hear? I’ve been stuffing my fingers inside of myself, wishing it was you the entire time. And I swear to the Norns, Thor Odinson, if you aren’t inside me within the next minute— “
And he’s cut off by Thor bowling him over, flipping their positions so now Loki’s the one on his back and Thor looms over him. The feral glint in Thor’s eye along with the dominant position he’s taken over Loki sends a rush of heat through the trickster’s body, and he actually feels himself gush a bit with slick.
“Three days, we could have been doing this,” Thor murmurs against the skin of Loki’s neck before he bites down, causing the trickster to howl and arch up against him. “Pity.” His broad hands travel down Loki’s skin, and a warm mouth follows. He strokes and plucks at Loki’s midnight blue nipples before leaning down to lap at each, alternating between nipping and suckling until Loki’s nails on his back begin to break skin. His fingers trace along the dark whorls adorning Loki’s abdomen, and Loki squirms against the scrape of Thor’s beard on his ribs as his tongue copies the path. He takes time to suck and nip at the nobs of Loki’s hipbones before settling just over where the tunic covers the rest of his skin, looking up to give Loki a teasing smirk as he reaches for the knot.
“Wait, Thor—” And Thor does, sitting up so he can see Loki’s face, which has gone indigo with want.
“Before you do that…there’s something else you should know.” Loki says, anxiety beginning to worm its way through the haze of lust and settle like a ball of ice in his gut. Thor frowns in confusion but gives him a nod, allowing Loki to shimmy out from under him so that they’re sitting across from each other.
“It’s probably easier to just show you.” Loki’s trembling fingers slip on the knot a couple times before he manages to undo it, taking a deep breath. “You are…do not feel like you have to stay after this,” He adds, though Thor’s rejection now will likely wreck him with how utterly toppled his defenses are.
Closing his eyes tightly, Loki removes the tunic and bares himself. In the past couple days, he’s gotten fairly used to his sex: his cunt is not much different from a woman’s, save the one glaring inconsistency that comes in the form of his cock, which comes out of the folds of his labia where a clitoris would usually be. Though his vulvar anatomy will likely never feel exactly natural to him, at least he can now look at himself without the base feeling that something is horribly wrong. He cannot say the same for how Thor must feel, though.
An eternity seems to go by in silence, and eventually, Loki cannot take it any more and has to open his eyes.
Thor is studying him with his eye widened, obviously surprised by what he sees. But, Loki allows himself to hope faintly, there doesn’t seem to be a hint of disgust or fear or anger mingling with the shock.
“You have…both,” Thor says after a moment more, and Loki scoffs, voice pitched high with nerves.
“Oh come now, what are we, seven? I have a penis and a vagina, Thor. A cock and a cunt.” And Thor must be able to sense Loki trying to build up his walls again somehow, because he lays a hand on Loki’s thigh and dips his head to meet Loki’s gaze.
Of all the things Loki was expecting, Thor licking his lips deliberately and winking at him before ducking down was not on the list.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” He murmurs against Loki’s thigh, and the trickster’s head drops back with a gusty moan. “I fear there may be a bit of a learning curve. But I am nothing if not an enthusiastic pupil.”
The first slow swipe of Thor’s tongue from the bottom to the top of his cunt has Loki jerking, thighs squeezing around Thor’s head. His brother chuckles and slides his hands down Loki’s thighs to hold them spread.
It’s not like Loki’s never been eaten out before, but that’s been in an entirely different place, an entirely different feeling. There’s something new about the sensation of Thor’s stubble against the soft insides of his thighs, mouth and tongue playing along the sensitive, wet folds of Loki’s more feminine sex. It seems much more raw, more intimate, especially with the fact that Thor is the first person to see him this way, to touch him in this way. Loki supposes if he wasn’t already ruined for any other partner, he is now.
Thor noses up his folds before mouthing softly at the base of his cock, smirking when Loki’s thighs quiver with the sensation. “You’re so wet,” He says, reverently, his cheeks shining with a mix of his own saliva and Loki’s natural slick. He licks his lips again, slow, and Loki’s head hits the cloth pile behind him with a muffled thump. “It tastes sweet. Just like you.”
This earns Thor the sole of a foot to his face, and he chuckles and rolls with it good-naturedly, sitting back on his heels and meeting narrowed red eyes.
“I’m not sweet,” Loki bites with no venom, letting his upper lip curl over his canines. “I would think the past few weeks would have proven that to you, at least.”
“Little viper,” Thor chides softly, and Loki growls against the kiss Thor presses to his mouth. “I know better than to underestimate you.”
Thor’s cock slides into Loki much more easily than during their bouts in the past, where time had to be taken for oil and slow fingers to coax him open enough to accept Thor’s girth. Now, helped along by the copious amount of slick Loki is producing, it takes almost no effort at all for Thor to sheath inside him fully. Ice crystals dance around Thor’s face as Loki blows out the breath that he’d been holding in. The world seems righted, in that moment, and Loki feels filled, whole again like he hasn’t felt in days, maybe even longer.
“Fuck, Thor,” He gasps out, and his brother grunts in agreement. The thrusts start out slow, with Thor pulling out so just the head of his cock holds Loki speared open, before pushing in again, a long slip-slide that leaves Loki digging his heels into the small of Thor’s back.
“Thor,” Loki snarls, voice rough. He tries to drive his hips up, but Thor bars one muscled arm over his abdomen, holding him down as he continues his leisurely pace.
“What?” The great oaf asks innocently, though there is a wicked twinkle in his remaining eye. “You told me to get inside you, so here I am. I thought this was what you wanted?” His next thrust barely grazes that magical spot inside Loki that he’s become quite familiar with in the last few days, and the trickster almost screams in frustration.
“You know what I want!” Loki kicks at Thor’s back again, but this time his brother stills, watching him with an expectant tilt to his head. The noise of vexation that comes out of Loki sounds practically animal.
“Ask me, Loki.” Thor says. And the dam breaks, so to speak.
“Fuck, Thor,” Loki cries out, and is rewarded by his brother sliding back out again to prepare for his next thrust. “I need you. I need you so deep in me that I can feel you in my throat, I need to be able to feel you for the next week every time I move, I’ve been empty for ages...!” And Thor’s next thrust reverberates through Loki’s body, forcing a moan from his chest. “I need everyone to know that you belong to me, and I belong to you…!”
And now Thor’s set a quick, heavy pace, crashing into Loki so forcefully that it pushes air from his lungs each time. He curls over the trickster’s prone form on the ground, and Loki can feel electricity crackling in the air, barely restrained.
“That’s right,” Thor huffs into his ear, low and dark, and Loki actually whimpers. “You are mine, and I am yours. This is where you belong, Loki. By my side. And I belong at yours.” And as Loki closes his eyes and starts to give in to the heat rapidly cresting in his gut, Thor leans down and bites into his shoulder, surely leaving a mark. “This is how it has been,” He says with finality. “And this is how it always shall be.”
Loki comes first, hurtling over the edge with a shout as Thor wraps a hand around his cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. The god of thunder hits that spot inside of Loki again halfway through his orgasm, and the god of mischief goes slack-jawed and wide eyed as it seems to trigger a second completion in him. He’s so electrified by it that he barely registers the hot gush of Thor spilling inside of him.
When Loki comes back to himself, he’s on his bed, head supported by a pillow and body wrapped in a clean sheet. He makes a cracked, confused noise and strains to look around. Thor is nowhere to be seen. This triggers some sort of panic in Loki, and he sits up, ignoring the aching in his back.
“Careful,” He hears, and turns his head to find Thor standing in the doorway, holding a glass in one hand and a plate piled with fruits and cheeses in the other. His body slumps in relief as Thor approaches, settling down on the side of the bed to offer Loki the glass, which he takes and downs gratefully. Next Thor takes a grape from the plate and offers it to him, chuckling when Loki nips a little at his fingertips.
“How are you feeling?” Thor asks, handing the plate over as Loki begins to eat ravenously. “You passed out for a while. I knew I was good, but not that good,” and he ducks as Loki flings a fig at his face.
“I feel like I just got run over by a bilgesnipe,” Loki gripes around a mouthful of apple. “But the ache inside of me is gone. I think it’s over.”
“That’s a pity. I was hoping to get you to beg at least twice more,” And Loki’s aim with the fig is true this time. It smacks Thor in the brow bone, and the great oaf falls backwards with an exaggerated grunt, landing over Loki’s thighs.
“I’ve been hit!” Thor wails, and Loki thinks he sees his brain with how hard he rolls his eyes into the back of his head. “Oh, woe is me. The pain, the indignity! Tell…my brother…I love him…” and Thor goes limp, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth like some great beast.
“You child,” Loki says, but can’t stop the heat that pools in his cheeks at the truth he finds in Thor’s theatrics. “He’s right here, why don’t you tell him yourself?”
It takes a moment, but Thor slowly sits up, face now earnest and somber. He reaches out and carefully takes the mostly empty plate of food from Loki’s hands and sets it to the side before twining his fingers with Loki’s own, the tips of which are now starting to melt back to a creamy white color.
“I do,” Thor says softly, giving Loki’s hands a little squeeze. “Love you, that is.”
Loki has to swallow the lump that’s formed in his throat, which he writes off to ridiculous Jotünn biology and its emotional bonds. “And I, you,” He says after a while, the most he can give to Thor right now. His brother seems to know this and accepts it, face splitting into a sunny grin as he brings his mouth against Loki’s own.
Loki’s Jötunn visage begins to melt little by little as time passes, and, by the time he is ready to sleep that evening, he is a strange sort of blue-and-peach piebald over his face and chest. Thor had stayed for their traditional post-coital nap before needing to return to the main room to meet with Heimdall, promising he’d be swift and return with more food. He’s barely just dozing off amongst the sheets when he hears his door slide open again.
Exhausted, Loki stays curled up, eyes closed as he listens to the sound of Thor shuffling around the room, discarding armor and clothing alike until the bed dips with his weight. An arm curls possessively around Loki’s waist, and he doesn’t complain as he’s pulled back into a warm, bare chest.
“So how many times a year does this happen?” Thor murmurs against his hair, and Loki snorts weakly, batting at Thor’s arm with a hand.
“Go to sleep, Thor.”