Chapter Text
Loki spends the next few days in a fit of acute arousal and frustration. They rarely have time to stop, and aside from hastily built camps at night, they are constantly on the move. Thor pulls Loki aside more than once, however, for quick, unsatisfying ruts. Their couplings always end with Thor spilling more and more seed inside Loki, but they do not always end with Loki finding any release of his own. The trickster tries to taunt Thor into more -- into a hard, proper fucking. "That was a bit... premature," he says once. And another time he has the audacity to ask, "Are you in?" But Thor doesn't rise to the bait, at least not in the sense of rise that Loki would like.
Twice, Thor is generous enough to bring Loki off after he's finished. He fingers Loki hard and fast, forcing an orgasm out of him while he hisses in the trickster's ear about how loose he is getting, how filthy. The rest of the time, Thor takes his own pleasure, then plugs Loki up again straight away without letting him come. He tries to keep as much of his semen inside Loki as he can manage. He loves the idea of how much come sits inside Loki's slutty little arse, how Loki must feel it inside of him every minute of the day, reminding him who he belongs to now. He loves how he can pull Loki aside at any instance and thrust into him without warning, and Loki's body is always ready, always wet and open and willing to accept him over and over again.
Loki complains about the latter. He hurls curses and insults at Thor – not for being so full but for not getting extra attention, for not being allowed to come. Thor shuts him up each time, rubbing his fingers against Loki's stopped-up hole, gathering any excess come that has managed to spill out, and then making Loki lick his fingers clean. Loki always does so, reluctantly at first, biting him, and then eagerly, sucking hard and trying to chase after his fingers even when Thor pulls them away. "So greedy," Thor tells him. Really, Loki should be grateful that Thor is so considerate to keep him nice and clean.
But Loki is beyond frustrated. The toy inside of him is just enough of a stretch to keep him on edge, and far too short to provide proper stimulation even if he were desperate enough to rut against it. Which he never would. But even if he were to consider stooping that low, the option is certainly off the table when, after days of traveling alone, just the three of them, they come across a camp of Aesir warriors and join their ranks.
Suddenly Thor is far too focused on discussing small matters, like war. There are too many familiar faces here, and every single one of them stare at Loki with contempt and some thinly veiled amusement at his bondage. Thor doesn't seem to notice this, or Loki's growing ire. He greets each warrior as if they were lifelong friends. Drinking companions, no doubt. It makes Loki's teeth clench and his lips curl.
Being ignored is intolerable, especially when Thor has chosen to initiate this game. If his brother thinks he'll become nothing but a pliable little slut, dripping wet and pleading for relief, he has another think coming. Instead, Loki lashes out, beginning with dripping sarcasm and petty jabs at anyone and anything that makes itself an opportune target. It ends with a meticulous verbal flaying directed at Jane, who stands rooted to the spot, eyes wide and wet until every last venomous syllable has left his lips. Then she turns and flees.
Thor, of course, is present for the entire assault. It wouldn't be nearly as fun without, not that Thor ever leaves his captive alone for an instant.
This time, Loki knows, he's pushed hard enough. Too hard, some would say. Equal terror and thrill thrum in his veins as he awaits Thor's reaction.
There's a darkness in Thor's eyes that makes Loki's blood sing. He can feel a sudden chill in the air, and the charge of electricity. The oncoming storm. Gods, it will be glorious. Loki smirks at him, feeling breathless and dizzy with private pleasure.
Thor grabs his chains, twisting and pulling down, forcing Loki onto his knees. There's a nervous, gnawing hole in Loki's gut. He wonders if Thor will punish him here in the open, with Odin's mindless little servants watching on. The idea is humiliating, and sends a flow of blood straight to his cock at the same time. Thor could strike him, beat him senseless and bloody, or he could tear Loki's clothes off and mount him roughly. He could do both in turn, in either order, and Loki knows, with red-hot shame coloring his face, that he would love it.
Instead, Thor drops Mjolnir onto Loki's chains, and leaves after Jane.
Loki kneels in the dust, dumbfounded for a moment, only a moment. Then he flings curses at Thor's back, and insults at that mortal wench he chooses to keep at his side. But it doesn't matter what he says – Thor does not return any time soon. He leaves Loki to his punishment, pinned to the ground, with low-blooded Aesir warriors free to stare at him all they like.
Angry as he is, Loki is wise enough to bite his tongue, however much to wants to snap at them for daring to stare at their prince. Disgraced prince, he knows they would say. Traitor, even, and worse besides. Perhaps they would even beat him, or try to kill him in Thor's absence. And gods, if they did lay their hands on him, what if they discovered the filthy secrets he had to be uncovered? Someone would undoubtedly notice how hard he was, would send up a mocking cry that the loathsome Loki truly was perverse and got off on the pain. And if they dared to press further, to humiliate him or violate him, they would find that he was already prepped and desperate for it. They would use him as they saw fit... and that was far from a horrible thought, Loki smirked to himself, subtly shifting his kneeling position in the dirt.
But Loki keeps his mouth shut. As much as the idea appeals to him, the potential reality of any one of these disgusting, stinking men on him makes him want to vomit. He glares at any who come within five yards of him, but they seem to know better than to come closer. Perhaps they're smart enough to know that Thor would be extremely displeased if he returned to find so much as a smudged fingerprint on his brother.
But Thor does not return. Not even when the wind picks up and the sky darkens. There is no true sunset today; the night simply comes, and with it the rain begins to drizzle, and then pour. The last soldiers into their tents pause to see Loki still kneeling in the mud. They laugh aloud at him while he grits his teeth against the cold, and then they go inside their canvas tents to their own warm bed rolls.
For hours, Loki kneels in the downpour, his knees sinking into the earth. Mjolnir tilts ever so slightly to one side, but does not slip from atop his chains, nor do his chains budge from underneath. The wind is miserable and the rain stings his face. Loki is soaked to the bone and feels colder than he'd ever been, even in Jotunheimr, when Thor finally comes to collect him.
"What have you to say, Loki?" Thor asks, his deep voice revealing some entertainment, but every inch of him is serious nonetheless.
"Let me up, you simpering wittol," Loki growls.
"Mm. Wrong," Thor says, narrowing his eyes and pinching his lips together in disapproval.
Loki starts up in anger, his chains tugging him back into the mud before he can even get up from his knees. "I am not apologizing to you, or your cow, you great sot," he spits out.
"Then a night outside might do well to chill your heated blood," Thor says, somehow amused and annoyed with Loki at the same time. He doesn't even react to the insults Loki hurls at his back, doesn't even pause as he leaves again.
Loki stares after him in disbelief for long minutes, his vision blurred by the unrelenting rain. Finally the ice in his bones forces him to accept that Thor has left him. This is not a punishment he had envisioned.
Cold is one thing for a frost giant. Wet is another, and it is awful.
Loki pulls at his cuffs until his wrists are red and raw, but Mjolnir does not budge. His knees feel stiff from hours of kneeling in the mud, and Loki is certain that even if he could get loose, he would not be able to walk anywhere. Certainly not very far. Thor would find him by his tracks and retrieve him in the morning, laughing at him for being so pathetic. A runt Jotun, a seiðmaðr, chained and shivering on the ground, unable to tolerate even the basic elements. Loki growls low in his throat at the indignity and pulls harder on his chains, until he is exhausted, trembling, and the rain has gotten in his eyes and will not leave them. Damn Thor. Damn him.
Loki huddles against the rain, freezing and miserable. All he can do to shield himself is duck his head, keeping his face away from some of the rain, but not all of it. His exposed skin burns and stings with cold both at once. The rest of him is soaked through. His bones ache. His nerve endings are screaming. He cannot stop shivering uncontrollably, and only part of it has anything to do with how bitter the weather is.
He doesn't notice Thor's return until the great oaf is in front of him, kneeling down to wrap him in a fur. Loki shudders violently, a sob ripping at his chest. He leans into Thor desperately, without any conscious thought, seeking heat, seeking comfort. Thor's chest is broad and solid as ever, his arms large and strong as they wrap around him, squeezing him into the warmth. He feels like he's a child again, crying into Thor's chest, and he hates him.
"Are you sorry now?" Thor asks, sounding terribly lofty. Loki knows that Thor would leave again if he responds with more curses, but he doesn't have the strength to and Thor knows that now, it's beyond obvious, he's just waiting for Loki to admit that he's won. Loki barely nods, his face pressed into Thor's armpit, but the concession is there and Thor accepts it. He softens against Loki, rubbing his brother's back over and over again while Loki clings to him.
"Shh," Thor says, and it's a rumble in his chest that makes Loki's soul sigh with relief. The thunderer gently nudges Mjolnir aside, unpinning the chains and allowing him to pull Loki fully into his arms. His brother is wet and freezing cold and his long limbs are awkward and there's a skinny elbow digging into his stomach, but Thor presses his face close to Loki's neck, breathing in the scent of him, pressing a kiss to his icy skin and feeling his brother's pulse thumping rapidly under his lips. "Be still, little one," he whispers, rubbing at Loki's shoulders as a shiver passes through the smaller god.
He tugs the furs tighter around Loki, though he doubts that they will be much help when Loki himself is so cold and soaked through. Carefully, Thor stands, lifting Loki into his arms. Loki's stiff legs finally straighten out, and he whimpers, but Thor manages not to wince too much with sympathy. It was long overdue that Loki had a proper punishment for his behavior, and this one is unexpectedly effective. Now Thor is glad to bring him in from the cold, to keep what is precious to him close to his side, where he belongs. He leaves Mjolnir where she lay in the mud.
Thor carries Loki into a large tent that makes the others look like bedsheets, because of course the beloved Son of Odin would be given the best of anything. But Loki's jealousy is mild at the moment -- the extra luxury means warmth, means a proper bed that is covered in furs. There's a small fire inside the tent, and in that moment, it's the nicest thing Loki has ever felt. Thor makes him stand near it while he strips him out of his wet clothes.
For the first time since they started the journey, Thor unlocks his chains. When Loki is naked, he doesn't dress him again or put the chains back on. Instead he wipes Loki down with a towel, drying his unruly hair, his sides, his back, his feet. He kneels in front of Loki, close enough to place a kiss on Loki's soft cock, if he chose to. He admires it but doesn't touch. He runs his fingertips over the sharp jut of Loki's hips, then gently pushes Loki's legs apart, steadying him with one arm around his waist as he does so. He eases the plug out of Loki, sets it aside, wipes the slickness away from between Loki's thighs. Loki shivers. Thor smiles and presses his warm lips to Loki's thigh, licking away a bit of the damp.
Neither says anything. Loki can't decide if he should, or if the silence is comfortable between them. His stomach feels strangely -- hollow and light and twisted inside-out. Thor rises to his feet again, and strips out of his own clothes quietly. Loki watches, biting his lip, wondering if he should dry Thor as well, but the towel is dropped on the floor and Thor is staring at him with those damned blue eyes.
He never gets to decide, because Thor moves again, herding Loki to the bed. They slide in, all awkward limbs and cold flesh pressed together. Thor drags the furs over them, hooks his arms and legs around Loki and pulls him close.
For a long time they simply lie together, entangled. Loki presses as close as he can to Thor, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. He can't decide if he's hearing Thor's heart, or merely feeling it, but the strong beat is there, steady and so much slower than his own racing pulse. And there's that feeling again – like his insides have gotten horribly knotted. It's something between anticipation and fear, which is ridiculous, because there is nothing that could occur between them which they hadn't already done. There's no reason why this of all things should be any different. They had even shared a bed more than once when they were children, tangled together just as tightly, as if they could not possibly hold each other close enough. But that is so far from being the same.
Wrapped in furs, naked, entangled. It's as close as Loki has been to anyone. He can feel every point of contact between them, Thor's body hotter than melted iron, striking a sickly heat in Loki. He wants to roll over and let Thor mount him like an animal. He wants to pin the thunderer down himself and rut against him, bite and claw and just feel the friction, lick the sweat from Thor's throat, make him beg for release, possess him. The idea hits Loki with as much nausea as arousal, and instead of remotely acting out on the thought, he flinches and curls in one himself more. He has never wanted anyone before, doesn't understand these new urges. They affect him so viscerally now.
Thor -- stupid, daft, arrogant idiot that he is -- remains as annoyingly perceptive as ever. His fingers stroke small, light circles against Loki's side, as if his touch could ease away the tension in Loki's body. And damn him, it actually would be soothing if not for the fact that Thor is the one who began this disturbed fever in the first place. His touch makes Loki burn, makes his toes curl as he remembers, he's always loved Thor.
"Loki," Thor murmurs, in a way that is asking for his attention, in a way that prefaces the beginning of a question, of a discussion that Loki isn't ready to have. Loki wants to strike Thor in his stupid face, to bloody his nose enough so that he chokes on it, to make him be quiet, be quiet, just for an eternity, and then maybe that would be enough time for him to pull his scattered, awful thoughts together.
But he doesn't strike Thor, so Thor speaks.
"Why did you say those things to Jane? I just want to understand," he adds, hoping that soft words will uncurl Loki's fist clenched against his chest.
Loki is silent for a long time, but his body is screaming. Every muscle lies tense under Thor's hands. He keeps his eyes and teeth clenched shut, his face tucked against Thor's chest to hide. The thunderer waits patiently and then prompts again. "Loki?"
"Because they are true," Loki says, his voice tight and full of venom before he clenches his jaw shut again.
"It was cruel and unnecessary. You said it only to hurt her," Thor says, not bothering to argue with Loki about whether his harsh words were true or not. Even if they were, it is besides the point. "Why did you feel the need to hurt her, Loki?"
"Why do you want to defend her?" Loki shoots back in return, but it is far from a snappy reply – his voice sounds bitter and deadened and Thor doesn't understand why. He wants to take Loki into his arms, to squeeze him and kiss him better, but he know he can't. He knows now that it doesn't work that way, although it does help, later. Instead, Thor shifts, pushes himself upright, and then pulls Loki up, fixing them both until Loki is sitting on his lap.
Loki glares at Thor, his eyes full of a despair and sadness that Thor doesn't understand. Of all the demons Thor has fought, the ones in his brother's head and heart are the hardest of all. He wishes Loki would just tell him the things that are hurting him inside so he can lay them to rest. He knows that it isn't easy for Loki either. These things are like a million splinters, and digging them back out hurts more than leaving them in. But they can't stay forever. Not without causing so much damage.
"Why do you hate Jane?" Thor asks.
"Do we really have to discuss it?" Loki snarls unexpectedly. "What difference does it make, if your fuck toy is kind to your girlfriend or not?"
The words cut through Thor like a knife, leaving him staring at Loki in stunned silence, but Loki is looking anywhere but Thor's face. The trickster is fuming, emotions warring plainly across his face. His entire body rocks unsteadily with each breath.
How could you think that? Is what Thor wants to say. How could you think for a second that there is any single thing in the Nine Realms I love more than you? But he doesn't want to answer Loki with confrontation. Doesn't want to turn this on him, even if it is his own fault. There are demons to fight. Demons that have spent years making Loki doubt that he was ever loved.
"I care about Jane," Thor says instead.
"I know," Loki seethes, and he looks like he is going to cry. Or something far worse. Thor cups his down-turned face to keep Loki still, before he decides on something worse. Sees the moisture threatening to spill from one eye and gently wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
"Loki... I care about her as much as I care for... the Black Widow, or for the Man of Iron. They are good people. Worthy of long lives and good fortune. They have my love. But they do not have my heart. They are not you."
Thor sees the subtle change on Loki's face, the anger fading away, the unspoken 'oh'. But the uncertainty remains, the fear of rejection, as if Thor would ever give up on his brother.
"I love you, Loki," Thor says, so there can be no doubt in what he means. "There is no one else who holds my heart as you do. My every thought. One day..." he laughed softly, an exhale. "One day I will tell you this and you will even believe me."
There is a light restored in Loki's eyes, or perhaps more accurately, the darkness is lesser. "And the heavens will open up, and all of Valhalla will sing glory of the day," he adds, and Thor chuckles and kissed his nose.
Loki breathes out and finally lifts his head. He catches Thor's faces between his palms and his mouth with his lips. He kisses Thor fiercely – harsh and tender all at once. He bites Thor's lips and sighs into his mouth. His arms wrap around Thor, holding him close and digging his nails into bronzed skin. His hips shift in Thor's lap until they are pressed close, his half-hard cock laying against Thor's belly.
"I want..." Loki says slowly, as if he's afraid to speak such things aloud. Soft lips and warm breath tickle Thor's skin, and Thor stays perfectly still, allowing Loki to do as he will. Loki is light, fleeting, until finally he realizes that Thor will not act first. Then his mouth is scorching as he kisses Thor again, pushing his tongue into the wet warmth of Thor's pliant and willing mouth. His hips roll forward, almost involuntarily, a movement born from want, and need. His cock smears a line of precum across Thor's belly.
They stay like that for a long moment, Loki clinging to him and rolling his hips, until Thor realizes that Loki has no intentions of pressing any further. Slowly, Thor withdraws. He presses a kiss to Loki's cheek and then lies back, sinking down against the bed. Thor stares up at Loki where his brother sits atop of him, unable or unwilling to not enjoy his brother's beauty. But he stays silent, and still, the expanse of his body laid underneath Loki like an offering. To take. To use as he sees fit.
Light fingers run over his broad chest, down his belly, and then back again, tweaking his nipples until they stand stiff. "Thor," Loki says, planting his hands on Thor's broads shoulders, putting his weight on them as he leans forward. And then he moves, sliding his cock against Thor's stomach once again. His breath grows heavier as he ruts against Thor slowly, nothing but his cock slipping over Thor's skin. Gradually, Thor's belly becomes slick with Loki's precum, easing the slide between them. Every forward thrust of his hips ends with the tip of his cock nudging into the shallow dip of Thor's belly button, as if he were fucking it.
Thor simply lies back and lets himself enjoy the feeling of Loki rubbing himself on him. Of his beautiful, insatiable little brother desperately grinding against his skin, trying to get off by any means necessary. His own erection bumps against Loki's backside with every backwards tilt of Loki's hips. He only wishes he could watch Loki like this from another angle, to see how his back arches as he humps himself against his brother's body, to see his eager and upturned ass from behind.
Loki whines as he works himself against Thor. His hips stutter forward helplessly, seeking more friction, but it isn't enough.
"Thor," Loki gasps, so quiet that Thor almost doesn't hear him. "Touch me."
"How?" Thor asks, bringing his hands to Loki's waist, stroking down over his sides until they rest on his ass, and he squeezes, pulling Loki harder against him.
Loki groans, but it still isn't enough to quench his fire. "I want your fingers inside me."
There is no need for further instruction. Thor quickly sucks two fingers into his mouth, wetting them as much as possible. He reaches down, cupping Loki's ass again and this time spreads his cheeks apart. Again, he feverishly wishes he were at another vantage point so he could see as he teases Loki's hole. But watching Loki's face is more than enough. He's still somewhat wet inside from Thor's seed, still stretched from keeping the plug inside him when Thor's cock isn't filling him up. Two fingers fit inside him easily, without much need for prep. Thor carefully works in a third, while Loki's head is buried against his shoulder, and then wiggles and shifts his fingers until he can feel the delicate nub of Loki's prostate under his finger tips, and begins massaging with light, experimental touches.
Loki is instantly a wreck. He shudders against Thor's shoulder, until the thunderer learns exactly how much pressure he should apply, when to rub back and forth, or in little circles. He is a fast learner. A particular crook of his fingers makes Loki go weak in the knees, all but collapsing on top of his brother, and he actually mewls. Thor eases off, teasing him with slower, lighter touches until Loki regains his senses. Loki pushes himself up again, sitting up for a moment, and Thor relaxes his hand, stops his motions while Loki sorts himself out on his lap.
Loki leans over Thor once again, so that his leaking erection is angled against Thor's belly. He moans softly, thrusting against Thor several times, slowly, while Thor's fingers simply fill him. It is so, so good, but he knows it can be better. Finally he speaks. "Don't stop. I didn't tell you to stop."
Thor smirks and slightly withdraws his fingers, then pushes in again, fucking Loki with these little strokes. Panting, Loki moves in rhythm with Thor, back against his hand and forward against his body. He goes from slower, long movements, to a quick, jerky pace when Thor seeks out that spot again and brushes against it repeatedly. The touches of his fingers grow firmer, faster, until a sweat suddenly breaks over Loki's body, his movements shaky. Before he can even sit up in order to touch himself, Loki is coming... several denied orgasm's worth of seed shooting across Thor's chest. Loki jerks himself quickly, then he is forced to slow his hand. He squeezed himself root to tip, milking out another spill of seed onto Thor's stomach until he can't bear it any longer and has to let go of his cock.
"Loki," Thor says, reverent, and eases his fingers from Loki, grasping his own neglected erection and stroking. His arm moves against Loki with every frantic stroke, leaving no doubt about his exact movements behind Loki's back. Loki reaches behind himself, stilling Thor's hand and slipping his own in place. The angle is awkward, but Thor is so hard, slippery with his own precum and Loki knows it won't take much now.
Several strokes and Thor is bucking up against him, so close. With his free hand, Loki pushes against Thor's chest like he is a steadying a horse. "Wait," he says. Loki lifts himself up, placing one foot flat on the bed so he can position himself. They both moan aloud when Loki aligns Thor's cock against his hole and sinks down in one slow, smooth movement. Thor's head falls back against the bed, his neck straining with the effort not to just grab Loki's hips and fuck him ruthlessly. Loki moves for them both, his hips hunching against Thor in a now-familiar movement. Any other time, he would seek his own pleasure, but now he purposefully tries to avoid letting Thor's cock brush against his prostate – he is too sensitive. He simply wants this, for Thor, for himself.
"Come on," Loki urges, a threat of harshness in his voice, as if scolding Thor for trying to hold back. "Inside. I want you to spill inside of me."
That is the last push that Thor needs. The words go straight to Thor's cock and he jerks up underneath Loki, pressing their bodies close together as he comes. Loki groans happily, so pleased to get his way, and keeps moving his hips against Thor. His inner muscles clench purposefully around Thor's twitching cock, as if he is making every effort to wring as much seed as possible out of Thor's body and into his. A soft, involuntary noise escapes Thor's throat when he realizes that this is exactly Loki's intention.
This is the same scenario as their game all along, that Loki was to be a convenient hole for Thor to fuck, to spill into again and again. A game he had assumed fell apart when Loki finally confessed that he didn't think Thor cared. Because a game like that has to be forfeited if it only served to actually hurt his brother. He didn't expect Loki to start the game again. It would worry him that Loki was doing this purely to please him, as if he still thought that all Thor wanted from him was to have a place to bury his cock. It would worry him if he hadn't realized, Loki isn't doing this for his benefit at all. This is not a misguided attempt to keep Thor pleased. Not when Loki is the one on top of him purring so happily while Thor's softening cock is deep inside his body. Not when Loki's eyes are closed, blissfully, and Thor can feel him slowly tightening and relaxing inside, as if savoring being so full. He is the one being used.
"Brother," Thor says, because it's all he can say. Loki opens his eyes and Thor sits upright, his hands holding onto Loki's waist to keep him from slipping off his lap. He feels himself slip free from Loki, accompanied by a mournful little noise from the trickster. He kisses Loki, hard, until Loki gives in, winding his arms around Thor's neck and teasing his tongue with his own. Thor doesn't want to pull away, but eventually he needs to breathe. Loki keeps kissing him, his lips soft against Thor's cheek, his jaw, his neck. He feels Loki's mouth open against his skin, the wet flicker of Loki's tongue tasting him, then the pinch of Loki's teeth biting his skin.
At Thor's small intake of breath, Loki chuckles. He nips Thor's skin again, if only to redden it, and then moves further down Thor's chest. He can't quite bend to reach with his mouth, so he presses his forehead against Thor's instead and uses his fingers to viciously pinch Thor's left nipple until the warrior gasps harshly again. He laughs, bringing the same fingers to his mouth, and then soothes the tortured bit of flesh with wet fingertips.
"You do love this, don't you?" Thor says, more of a statement than a question.
"Hm, what is that?" Loki asks, busying himself by beginning to torment Thor's other nipple. He is interrupted by two of Thor's fingers suddenly pushed inside of him, where Thor's seed has been leaking out. The initial penetration makes his knees go out from under him, slipping further against Thor's lap. Thor sinks his fingers in, then out, then back in again, slowly, his movements slicked from his own come.
"Of everything you could have done," Thor says, when he feels that Loki has regained his senses enough to actually hear his words, "you had me put my cock inside of you again. Not even to fuck you with it. You simply wanted my release inside of you."
Loki makes a low, whining noise in his throat, enjoying Thor's words, and the stimulation of Thor's fingers slowly bringing him back to arousal. "Of course I did," he says finally. He laughs at Thor's expression, at the fact that Thor is actually wondering why. "You poor fool. Did you think you really forced this on me? That even as your prisoner you could ever make me do something I didn't truly want?"
Thor blinks, digesting the words, then smiles. He pulls Loki closer, kissing his lips with a growl, drinking in Loki's pleased sighs, the little moans that escape him as he works his fingers deeper and rubs him inside.
"What do you want?" Thor asks against Loki's mouth, his hand busy. If Loki wants him to keep using his fingers once again, he will. If he wants Thor to use his mouth on him, gods, he will. He would do anything for Loki right now. Lick him open, sink in deep, make him come a hundred times before finally letting himself get off.
"I want you to use me... until all I can feel is you, inside of me. Over and over again," Loki says, a wicked smile making his mouth sharp. "And I want you to tell me again how wet... and sloppy you've made me. For you. Because your words are so perfect when they're filthy and whispered into my ear from behind."
Thor chuckles breathlessly, slips his fingers free and rolls them both, placing Loki on his back. "You will be the death of me," he declares before kissing Loki, hard, only relenting when Loki is gasping for air. He lets his brother catch his breath while he attacks his neck, sucking and biting harsh marks onto his throat.
"You are not... allowed to die," Loki manages to say, despite Thor's best efforts. "Not until I'm satisfied. Only then."
"And when will that be?" Thor questions, amused. "When you are so full of my seed you cannot possibly hold any more?"
"No," Loki laughs. "I will never be satisfied. You will just have to keep trying."