Boltedfruit Archive

   “Make sure you keep an eye on your brother while we’re gone, Thor.”

Thor tries to contain his smile. A resulting anxious nibbling of teeth on lips that Frigga seems entirely oblivious to as she packs. Thor follows a step behind her as she flits about her room. When he bumps into her she places a hand on his chest, laughing, and pushes him back a step.

“What’s with you today?” she asks him. “You’re almost stepping on me.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just excited.”

Frigga laughs in her usual loud way. Serves to fill and brighten a room all at once, demanding all attention be given to the source. It’s how she caught Odin’s attention in the first place. Thor has his mother’s laugh.

“You two will have all summer to catch up.” She fingers the ends of his hair, smoothing and twisting them around. Finally, she sweeps his waves over his shoulders and palms his cheek gently. “I fully expect your father and I to come home to you two ripping each other’s hair out.”

“That was once when we were fifteen.”

“Has it already been two years?” She wrinkles her nose. Kisses his hair. “Just you wait. Give it time, kid.”

Thor rolls his eyes but privately wishes she’ll be proved wrong.

It’s summer.

   Loki hasn’t changed much in the seven months since he’s been gone from home. Wanting to do well his first year in college, he’d wanted to stay through the holidays. It hurts Thor still to think about, that Loki didn’t even come back to see him. But seeing how much he’s still Loki calms Thor somewhat. Still tall and lanky. Still pale. Same freckles in the same spots on his cheeks and nose. Same hip that juts out when he leans against things. Loki even asks him if Thor sees any changes, cocking his head to one side, eyebrow a little worried in that ever-worried way of his. Thor’s missed him.

He hugs Loki instead. Wraps him up and lifts him bodily where they stand in the airport. Loki’s forced to grab his shoulders to keep hold, a fearful jolt running through him. But Thor holds tight. He’ll never let his brother go, even if he squirms like he is now.

Thor plants a kiss on his brother’s shoulder before setting him back on his own two feet. Loki’s a spluttering mess, rapidly smoothing down the front of his shirt, righting his luggage. Not looking at Thor as he does it. Thor bumps his hip, happy.

Frigga and Odin embrace their son in more public-appropriate displays of affection, tutting and cooing over his hair. Maybe that’s the only thing that’s changed, a little. Just a little longer than Thor remembers it being. Maybe curlier too. It’s only when Loki gives their parents a final hug that Thor notices his nails are painted black. That’s new. His shirt hikes up a little when he goes to meet Odin for a last one-armed pat and Thor spies a flash of color, a red strap—then it’s hidden away again.

Then their parents get on a plane to Morocco. They’ll be gone for two months.

Loki turns to him and his smile is easy and free.

   “How’s class going?”

Loki sighs. “I hate it. People are stupid.”

Thor turns onto their street. Beside him, Loki wears a shirt with MIT embroidered in red on the front. It’s worn, the cotton stretched at the collar.

“You’ve still got two years left.”

Loki sniffs. “A year. I got them to let me take extra classes.”

“So you’ll be—”

“Graduated by the time you’re out of high school.”

“Jesus. Give me a second to catch up at least,” Thor laughs. He feels a familiar swell of pride for his brother, followed by the expected wave of sadness afterward.

Loki waves a hand. “I’ll just be around more to help you with homework. Besides, I’ll probably be able to start a graduate program by the time you catch up anyway.” He laughs, conspiratory.

Thor nods. He thinks he knows what that means. But he doesn’t want to hope. He won’t.

   They’re twins. Not identical. That’s the part that’s always thrown people for a loop. But Thor’s always considered his brother his soulmate. He knows he shouldn’t. And he knows now not to tell anyone about it. It’s why Jane broke up with him. It’s why he ended the next two relationships before they even really began. The closest he got was letting Fandral kiss him a month ago. He didn’t tell anyone about it. But he felt gross. Wrong in a way he shouldn’t feel wrong. Wrong, because when all was said and done and Thor was left meeting the eyes of his happy friend—overjoyed at finally being able to kiss Thor—all he could think about was how guilty he felt.

He remembers almost calling Loki after, wanting to apologize. But then that felt weird too. So he never did. Now, with Loki across from him, it’s easier to feel more in the moment. Less afraid of consequences he hasn’t fully thought through.

“Fandral kissed me,” Thor blurts when they’re back home, eating pizza that was delivered cold a half hour before. Loki swallows his bite and looks over at him. “I said I wasn’t interested.”

Loki makes a face. “Why not? I thought you two have been dating for a while?”

That’s a surprise, because they never dated. One kiss and the look on Thor’s face was enough for Fandral to shrug it off as a silly faux pas. No harm no foul.

Loki blinks. “Your Instagram. There’s a ton of photos of just the two of you.”

Thor shakes his head, no. Loki sinks down in his seat on the couch beside him. Thor dips slightly with the movement.

“Maybe one or two, but trust me. Fandral isn’t my type. Never dated. I’ve been single since Jane,” Thor says.

His brother nods on a hum.

“Maybe it was his, then. Could have sworn.”

Loki’s attention stays glued to the television the rest of their meal. He cranks the volume and stuffs his mouth with too much pizza. There’s no in for conversation, so Thor lets the subject die.

   Loki stops at his door before bed. He’s got toothpaste on his cheek, and he’s in a shirt and boxers as he makes his way over. He stops in front of Thor’s bed where he lays with a book open. Thor sets it on his nightstand and scoots over for his brother to hop in beside him.

His brother’s smile lights up a room. It’s one of the many things Thor loves about him. Loki doesn’t smile a lot, and when he does it’s usually small, reserved. Often hidden behind a hand—those are the worst kind. But Thor will take those over Loki never smiling at all. It means he’s so happy he can’t hide it, even if Thor can’t really see them.

But the one Loki gives him now is full beaming, a ray of light cast down on him that he can’t help but return. Loki’s shirt hikes up to his ribs, close enough to where Thor knows he’s self conscious sometimes. He reaches over as his brother settles, automatically tugging his shirt back down. Loki hums his thanks and sighs happily.

“I’ve missed your bed.”

“Do dorm rooms not have good mattresses?”

Loki closes his eyes, leans forward. Thor is a hopeful creature by nature, and so he likes to think it means Loki is automatically seeking him out. But he knows that’s probably not it at all. Probably just Loki being exhausted and happy for a soft pillow.

“Stiff and thin as a board. Came with splinters in it when I moved in.

No idea where they came from. And it smells musty.”

“The bed?” Thor asks, fearing mold.

“The entire room. Old wood. It always smells wet. And the heat is always out, so it’s freezing all the time, and that doesn’t help anything.”

“It sounds like a nightmare.”

Loki’s mouth opens and closes. He finally shrugs and says, “Here is better. I miss you.”

Thor hasn’t heard those words in years. Definitely not since Loki’s left for college. It took him a year to finish high school. Two tests and he was enrolled the next fall for community college. When that wasn’t working, he managed to land a scholarship to MIT and now…now here they were. Are. Loki less than a year out from a Bachelor’s degree and in bed beside him. So different yet so unchanged from what he’s been missing since he left.

He allows himself a stretched moment where he trails his sight down Loki’s familiar features. Same bridge and nostrils. Same pout that always tilts too sad at rest. Same long neck that dispels to dissimilar lines and curves and slopes that Thor’s not seen since they were little. He can see Loki’s nipples through the fabric of his shirt. Suddenly his mouth has gone too wet. He swallows it down and blinks, catching himself at staring.

Fingers find his elbow. Loki drags his hand up and down before finally squeezing his elbow again, the pinch of skin there. He lets his touch linger too long, until Thor realizes he’s not moving away. He knows he’s been caught but he doesn’t mind so much. Because Loki touched him. Because he’s not stopped touching him.

They go to sleep.

   In the morning Loki is gone. Thor stretches out, burying his face in his brother’s pillow. He inhales and luxuriates in the minor suffocation, trying to absorb as much of Loki’s scent as he possibly can. Listens and hears the shower running down the hall, the old pipes snapping loud after long minutes. He can hear Loki singing.

Thor takes one last deep breath in, kisses the place where Loki’s head had been and gets up to pad to the bathroom.

Loki never locks the door, when he really should. Thor stands peeking through the crack of the door to try and spy a glimpse of his brother’s shape through the shower curtain. He sees a shadow but it’s amorphous at best. He steps inside, silent as the grave, and flushes the toilet. He waits a beat and sees Loki jerk back first, shout second and then the curtain is being swung open.

But it’s different. Loki doesn’t even scream at him, standing there, naked and wet. Thor bites his lip because he thinks it’s better than just laughing. But Loki is silent. And somehow that’s funnier than if he’d started chasing him down the hall.

Thor blinks and blinks. He can’t help it. He glances at his brother’s chest, sees the nipples the same color as his own—and then Loki remembers himself. He pulls the curtain up close and holds it, a flush high on his cheeks.

He’s angry.

That’s not what Thor wanted at all.

The laughter dies away inside him and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked…shouldn’t have even come in. I just thought—”

“Thought you’d get away with the same shit you did when we were kids?”

Thor grimaces. He’s right, but it was only a year ago. “But Loki. We still are kids.”

Loki’s eyes go wide, then hard. He sighs and his fist clenches the curtain tighter.

“God. You just startled me, is all.”

Something dark fades from his eyes and then Loki’s dropping the curtain entirely. He slaps some of the hot spray of the water towards Thor before stepping out of the tub. He huffs, like he’s been greatly inconvenienced, all evidence of his ire gone from him.

Thor can’t breathe.

Loki stands in front of him, unabashedly naked. His freckles scatter down over his chest, over his belly, down to his hips. Thor barely avoids looking at the dark hair between his legs, but he wants to. He really wants to. Loki lets him look everywhere else. But Thor doesn’t know how to look where he wants most. Doesn’t want to ruin everything. But he wants to look. He lets out a steadying breath to try and ground himself, gaze hooked on Loki’s knees.

Wait, Thor thinks. This is weird.

Thor snaps his gaze back up. Loki is just staring at him, somewhere between studying and amused. Unsettling, like so many of his expressions. Though not what Thor expects from his brother right now, who he was just checking out like it was nothing. Checking out. He swallows hard, coughs. Loki continues peering at him, seeing everything.

Loki reaches past him and grabs a towel off the rack. He wraps it around himself, pinning it underneath his arms.

“Congratulations,” Loki tells him, and his anger is gone, just like that. Thor feels like he’s being congratulated for something else. “You get second dibs on the shower.”

   Loki’s in one of Thor’s oversized shirts and a pair of tiny shorts Thor’s never seen. He squeezes sunscreen out of a tube onto Thor’s shoulders because he asked, and then they switch places. Thor makes sure to not miss his brother’s nose and forehead. They always got the worst of the sun when they went swimming.

They haven’t been here for a few years. Thor can smell the distinct sour tang of BBQ chips and the mustard-rich smell of one-dollar hotdogs in the air, buried under miles of sunscreen and overchlorinated water.

“Where to first?” Thor asks. He surveys the entrance to the waterpark with a hand over his eyes to shield from the bright sun. “There’s the lily pads.”

“Fuck off,” Loki scoffs. He shoves him lightly before striding ahead.

“Those are for little kids.”

“Oh. I thought you always liked them.”

Loki doesn’t acknowledge him. He points at the largest structure in the park. “We’ll do that.”

Thor’s stomach flips. “You sure?”

“It’s the biggest slide in the park. Yes I’m sure.”

Thor wonders when his little brother became such a daredevil. He grins and throws an arm around Loki’s neck, jostling him. He’s always wanted to go on the tubeless slides, but their parents never let them. Thankfully, they’re alone for the summer. No one to govern them but themselves.

It’s a taste of what he expects like to be once he’s done with high school.

Looking at his brother now, following his lead…it’s like he’s never done anything else, or ever will again. The innate knowledge he carries whenever he’s with his twin; that as long as Loki is with him and he’s with Loki, everything will be okay.

Thor likes the idea.

   Thor goes first because he can tell Loki’s nervous despite his best efforts at hiding it. He turns and smiles before stepping onto the dripping wood platform, water rushing fast down the narrow twisting slide. A gust of wind blows them and he sees Loki sway.

“If I die, you’ll know not to go,” Thor informs him cheerily.

Loki huffs at that, green eyes too wide and focused too hard on the twists and turns before them. “I won’t know if you’re dead until I go down to see it.”

He hadn’t thought of that.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“You never think of anything,” Loki scoffs. “Get on with it.” Loki waves him forward and Thor goes.

He lays down, crosses his arms, and braces himself for the push.

   Thor lands with a splash. People in line laugh and clap. He’s laughing so hard he inhales water, the sting of the chlorine making his eyes tear up. His heart is still racing, exhilarated, when he sees Loki jet down some minutes later. He can see his brother laughing from where he stands to the side, carefree and loud.

Thor whoops and hollers when Loki splashes into the main pool. Loki flounders, rolling backward and Thor sees skin. Loki stands up before he can pull his shirt back down to fix where it had flown up in the landing. A kid nearby waiting in the long line points and says, loudly,

“Momma, that girl doesn’t have a top on.”

Thor’s already in the water, at Loki’s side.

“Don’t,” comes Loki’s hard whisper

The woman turns, looks down at her son with a frown and then her curious eyes land on first Loki, then Thor.

Thor smooths a hand down his brother’s back, stepping in front of him. Loki is shaking.

The woman smiles in apology and moves her son’s hair away from his eyes, effectively drawing his attention back to her. “He’s a boy, sweetie. Boys don’t need to wear tops in the pool.”

Thor hears Loki’s heavy sigh and before he can think better of it, he presses a kiss to his black hair. Loki leans into the touch.

“Let’s go grab some lunch.”

   Loki is quiet as he eats his hotdog. A glob of relish falls fat on his paper plate and he sighs at it. He’s been a chorus of sighs all afternoon. Thor sits just as quiet beside him, enjoying the way Loki doesn’t shy away from him when he presses their legs together. Loki starts bouncing his thigh, a nervous habit he’s always had. Some part of Thor is relieved that hasn’t changed in their time apart either. He places a hand on Loki’s knee and he stills.

“You think of where you’re applying to, yet?” Loki asks him.

Heat rises fast to Thor’s cheeks as he already knows the answer, so he ducks to keep his brother from noticing. “Some, yeah.”

Loki sets his hotdog down after another bite. “And?”

“Arizona…”

“You hate the heat.”

“No, I don’t.” Most of the time he does.

“You hate when it’s over a hundred degrees out more than five days in a row. You’ll hate it. Next.”

Thor huffs. “Alaska, then.”

Loki’s eyes go wide. “That’s a lie.”

Thor shrugs, a smile working its way onto his face, he can tell. Loki wiggles in his seat beside him, and then Thor feels Loki’s fingers cover his own.

“Stop hiding behind your hair,” Loki murmurs, sounding suddenly very close. Too close, actually. When Thor blinks up at him, Loki is there. Close enough to smell the relish on his breath.

“I want—” Thor hums. He won’t say it.

“What do you want, Thor?”

He goes with his first choice. Decidedly the less embarrassing of the two. And easier to explain.

“I want you to help me apply to MIT.”

Thor sees the smile in his eyes before it reaches his mouth, and Loki is beautiful. He could kiss him.

“You don’t need my help,” Loki reminds him. “But if you insist.”

Loki squeezes his hand and Thor decides it’s not the right time. Not the right day.

He’s thought that before, but better never to take what he wants and live through his secret alone than risk Loki’s disgust, disownment, rejection, hatred. Better not knowing, than to risk finding out if Loki does. Thor has no clue where to even begin if that was the case. How wild it would be.

But that’s an impossible dream, so he settles for Loki’s hand over his.

It’s enough, he tells himself. Just like he’s told himself for years.

   “We could dorm together,” Loki tells him the next day.

Thor feels some invisible stress fly from his shoulders, not realizing how much that particular part of the whole ordeal was weighing on him.

“I’d like that.”

“Of course you would, you practically mobbed me when I came home. If you don’t get into MIT you might just sneak onto the plane back with me in my suitcase anyway.”

Thor doesn’t argue it. Sometimes, he knows, it’s better to say nothing than give Loki a reason to dig into his motivations.

“I just missed my little brother is all.”

Loki goes to him, digging a knuckle into Thor’s side as he passes.

“By two minutes.”

“Reasons I’m taller.”

Loki goes on his tiptoes to grab a bowl and cereal.

“Reasons you’re fatter.”

“Hey.”

Loki turns his head to offer him a soft smile in apology. Loki knows it’s sometimes a sore subject for him. “Sorry.”

Thor takes a step towards him. He’s not sure what he wants to do. Well, no, that’s a lie. He knows exactly what he wants to do. He wants to come up behind Loki. Wrap his arms around him. Press against him from shoulders to hips into the counter. Wants to fall into the space where he knows he’d fit so perfectly.

But he just takes a half-step and stops, and worse of all, Loki sees it.

Loki appraises him. The soft smile turns sharp.

Then, “Let’s go buy some fireworks.”

Thor is glad for the change of subject. “We could go to the beach like we used to?”

“You read my mind, big brother.” He snorts and finishes making his food.

   They head out late. Thor buys them ten fireworks and Loki steals exactly seven and a half from a corner market, to Thor’s fretful tutting. He’s not sure how that worked out, or how Loki managed to sneak them out the front door, but they spill their bounty into the backseat of Thor’s mini cooper and brace themselves for the hour long drive to the shore.

Loki hangs his arm out the window, letting it roll with the wind. Thor lets him choose the songs too, so it just ends up being an endless medley of Beastie Boys and Duran Duran. He starts thinking about college. If he doesn’t get into the same one as his brother. If he won’t be able to see Loki for another two years, or more. He feels like crying.

   Thor grabs armfuls of the blankets he’d brought, and the bag of food and drinks snuck from Odin’s liqueur cabinet. Loki grabs the fireworks and dumps them in the softest, sandiest spot they can find on the pebbley beach. The waves crash low and distant, far enough out that they can set up camp on a reasonably dry patch of an otherwise always-soaked stretch of beach. If it was light out they’d have gone out farther, but they got lucky.

Loki says, “Give me a few minutes.” Thor watches him jog back to the car for a few wistful moments before setting out to settle in for the night.

Thor lies back and reads the instructions on each firework. Roman candles, a handful of sparklers, some bottle rockets and a missile, and one cake. Loki got that one. Thor never knows how Loki pulls off his stunts.

He hears the sandy stomps of his brother. He’s got an armful of beachwood and is covered in sand to his knees.

“Where’s your pants?” Thor asks, dumbfounded at the sight of his brother’s gooseflesh-covered legs stepping over him to drop the wood in front of their little campout. “And where’d you get all this wood?”

“In the car. On the beach,” he answers easily. “Scoot over, I’m cold.”

Thor does and Loki settles in beside him, crossing his legs at the ankle. The blankets would be warmer over them, but if Loki isn’t bringing it up, Thor won’t.

“Why are they in the car?”

“Because they got wet.”

“…Because you got the wood from the water?”

It takes Loki a beat to agree. “Yeah.”

Loki grabs a rocket from his hand and starts tearing at the packaging.

“I don’t get you, brother,” Thor says, shaking his head. He turns on his side to watch Loki fiddle with the thing. His fingers tug quick at the string, testing the tension, before he starts laughing abruptly. A burst of sound too loud on the empty beach. “What?”

“We forget to get a lighter.”

Thor dissolves into giggles with him.

“Well, what now?” Loki asks after catching his breath.

He gazes out at the dark sea. The endless expanse of sand and sky. He grins and stands, starting to pull his shirt over his head.

Loki stands with him, catching on, but not happy about it.

“You’ll freeze!”

“Then you better make sure I stay warm,” Thor shoots back, pleased that Loki probably can’t see him blushing. It’s as close to an admission he’ll let Loki have. A slip of the tongue.

Loki just shakes his head at him, glaring, letting him know exactly what he thinks of the idea.

Thor bolts for the waves, flinging his jeans to the ground on the way. He skips and jumps and he can hear Loki yelling, then everything is a bitter slap of frigid seawater, paralyzing him. He shoots back up and gasps, swinging his hair from his eyes. In the cold night air, a wave crashes, at once far away and so close, an echo to his ears. On the beach, he can see Loki come closer to the water’s edge.

He dunks his head once more, swinging wide until he pops back up. Loki is farther away. Does it again and it’s like being on autopilot and suddenly Loki is a speck on the beach. His little brother, the speck.

Thor realizes his mistake when Loki starts jumping and waving his arms. At first, he thinks his brother is doing jumping jacks. But the movements don’t stop or slow, in fact turn frantic. Thor is drifting.

He treads the water as best he can but it’s rough. Constantly slapped in the face from all sides by water suddenly more choppy than he first realized, freezing to the bone. He’s really fucking stupid.

He starts swimming back.

It’s hard. He’s exhausted. How did he exert himself so quickly?

He blinks and he doesn’t see his brother. He hopes he’s just gone to get his phone from the car to maybe call for help.

Thor makes little progress, feels instead he’s being sucked back out into the sea. He’s probably going to die—hopes he’s just being dramatic. He takes a gamble. Takes in a gulp of air and dives, and it’s easier to swim beneath the surface. Ahead of him he sees the pale legs of his brother kicking towards him, a flailing of arms. When he comes back up, he’s much closer, and he only truly feels fear when Loki is almost to him.

Loki’s hand finds his hair first, pulling hard, gets him closer so he can palm his brother’s face. He’s panicking, Thor can tell. But Loki’s always been the one who embodies grace under pressure. Real pressure. He can add life or death situations to that now too.

Loki sounds like he’s sobbing when says, “You moron. You dumbass. You fucking idiot.”

He loops his arm under Thor’s and together they make it back to shore.

   Loki drags him to their pile of blankets, soaking wet. He pushes Thor down, says, “Hold on,” and runs off to bring back his discarded clothing. Loki falls to his knees where Thor has entwined himself, disentangles him and gets him to at least put his sweatshirt back on.

Then Loki hunkers down beside him, throws a leg over his shaking knees and hauls the blankets up tight around their shoulders. He cradles Thor’s head against his chest and Thor can both feel and hear the pounding beat of Loki’s thundering heart.

Thor wraps his own arms around Loki’s back, holding him tight, rocking them together.

It’s okay, he wants to say. I’m fine.

Loki is weeping into his hair.

“I love you,” Thor tells him.

“Shut up.”

   Loki rubs his sides, his shoulders, his arms, squeezing him tight in turns all the while until his full-body shiver has quieted to an occasional twitch. He leads Thor back to the car, only bothering to take the blankets back with them. He shoves everything in the back once Thor is inside and the heaters are blasting. Then he drives them home.

He holds Thor’s hand in a death grip the entire way back.

   Thor collapses into bed after a hot shower and a dry change of clothes. Loki didn’t say a word to him on the way back. Not even when they were inside. He’d just pointed to the bathroom and Thor obeyed.

He’s cold. He’s not hurt. Not traumatized either.

The worst part about any of it is that he scared Loki. He wants to fix that.

Loki appears in his doorway soon enough, two mugs of steaming hot something in his hands. It’s a mirror of before, Loki in his doorway. Only now there’s no toothpaste smeared cheek, or easy smiles and laughter. Loki’s face is all hard lines framing a stare he’s not seen on his brother before.

Thor accepts the mug shoved into his hands. Hot cocoa with marshmallows. Loki shoves Thor’s knees with his ass as he sits down, clearing a space for himself. Thor can smell his coffee.

“You drink coffee now?”

“Just you wait until you’re in college. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight.”

“But you’ll have coffee breath.”

Loki’s eyes lock on his. “Why does it matter to you?”

Thor wants to say it doesn’t. Wants to say he doesn’t care what Loki does or smells like or tastes like. Wants to say he’s sorry for scaring him earlier. Wants to say it’s late, and they should go to bed. Wants to tell Loki he loves him the wrong kind of way and drag him down into his embrace anyway, because he doesn’t care. But he does. Because he cares if he loses Loki. Cares if his brother rejects him. Cares if his brother is involved in his life. Wants him to be.

“Two minutes.”

Loki narrows his eyes before blinking and looking down into his coffee. “Yeah. You’re older.”

Thor swallows down another scalding sip. Sets the mug down and grabs up Loki’s hand.

“Two minutes for you to swim to me.”

It’s not even five seconds before Loki’s eyes are welling with tears. Two, then three fall quick down his cheeks before he swipes them away with a thumb.

“Come here.”

Loki lets Thor take his coffee and place it beside his own on the nightstand. He pulls until Loki is shifting to lay beside him. He rolls forward and Thor takes the hint to hug him. Loki’s never one for simple comforts, that’s Thor’s domain. But now, his heart swells the more Loki tries to burrow against him.

Loki worms a hand underneath the edge of his shirt, and its unusual. The cool, clammy press of his palm against his side, moving until half his arm is pressed right to Thor’s skin. He digs his nose against his throat until his chin is tucked against the skin of his clavicle. How is he even breathing comfortably?

“Your heart’s racing,” Loki whispers. His breath tickles.

“What’s gotten into you?” Thor asks him instead.

His brother doesn’t answer him. Thor feels instead the push of Loki’s thigh between his own and he automatically opens to accept him. Loki has twined them so thoroughly together, Thor knows he’ll have this moment burned into his mind for the rest of time. Or at least what he has left.

He can feel Loki’s lips against his skin. Can feel the shift of his breath, shallow. Can feel the flex of his fingers against his side, slow. Can feel his heart racing, a match to his own.

Thor risks everything. He turns his head, finds Loki’s ear, and kisses the top of it. Lets it linger too long. He knows it’s too long.

Loki gasps, soft. Something forgotten flutters to life for a moment. A piece of hope.

They go to sleep.

   Thor blinks awake, seeing first Loki’s eyes meet his own, then this flushed pink cheeks. His lips are parted, and Thor blearily tries to compute if Loki’s trying to tell him something.

But then Loki moves, he must, for Thor realizes a series of things far too quickly. In the night they’d managed to tangle more than they had going to sleep. Thor’s arms are around his middle, and Loki’s slung his leg over his hip. Thor realizes he’s hard last, and the second he does, feels himself twitch against where Loki’s pressed to him, pelvis to pelvis.

Loki lets out a soft little sound, barely audible.

“Sorry,” Thor rushes out just as Loki’s thigh squeezes him close.

“Don’t,” Loki gasps. “Don’t move.”

Thor’s head is throbbing, he can’t breathe. What’s happening? Why isn’t Loki pushing him away? Why isn’t he stopping this? He swallows, and then it’s Loki’s hand there, on his throat. The other finds its way up his shirt, splayed flat over his stomach.

“You’re hard,” Loki informs him, like he can’t quite believe it. “Very hard.”

Thor closes his eyes. He can still play this off.

“It’s normal. Here, let me—”

Loki rolls his hips forward. Thor can feel the soft press of him, the heat. He sees stars, and he can’t stop from grabbing Loki’s sides to keep him where he is. Close, but unmoving.

“We’re not doing this.”

Loki’s nails dig painfully into his skin. “Why not? Is it because I don’t have a—”

“No,” Thor shushes him. “It’s not that at all.”

The hand travels from his stomach to grab his chin, makes him open his eyes.

“Then what is it, Thor?”

Thor sighs something shaky. Why is Loki upset with him?

“Answer me.”

Thor swallows his fears, the answer forced from him by nothing more than the way Loki’s voice wavers. “Because I’ve wanted this for so long. Too long. But I shouldn’t, so I don’t. I don’t even dare. And this isn’t the right way.”

Loki’s gasp is loud in the quiet. And he’s just staring at him, gaze flitting quick between his eyes, as if trying to read some secret.

Maybe he can see it, see everything Thor’s tried so long to hide away.

Maybe he’s always seen it.

It’s a terrifying thought.

But Loki told him not to move. Loki’s upset with him—and Thor knows that look. Loki’s feelings are hurt. He’s seen that look countless times over the years. He can’t think of any logical reason Loki should feel hurt by being told no, pressed to each other like they are. So he’ll forget logic, just this once.

Cradling Loki’s neck, Thor dares, dares for the first time in his life. He leans close enough for Loki to make a decision. It’s not too late for him to shove Thor away, off the bed. Not too late to throw him from the window.

But the way Loki shakes against him makes Thor think he won’t do any of those things.

He stops just short of Loki’s mouth. Plenty of time to change his mind, decide this is wrong, anything other than what they’re doing right now. But to his traitorous heart’s private thrill, Loki simply closes the distance instead.

Loki’s mouth is soft against his, yielding, letting Thor pull him nearer. It feels like jumping from the sky, kissing his brother like this. With Loki’s hands tight against him, leg urgent in drawing him closer, closer, closer. Loki gasps a sharp breath and Thor dares a second time in licking into his mouth. Loki’s hips stutter against him, he sucks his tongue, his hands pulling and pushing until Thor is half on top of him. In bed. Between his spread legs. The heat of him burns Thor, and Loki tries his best to squeeze his erection tight, rubbing himself in little circles that are driving Thor crazy. He wants to do so much. Can’t even process past the fact Loki wants too.

Thor pulls away first, breathing hard. He runs his fingers over his brother’s ear, through his hair, smoothes them over Loki’s hot cheek. He’s never seen Loki so flushed before. Loki tries to tug him back down, a smile shier than he’s ever witnessed on his brother almost succeeding in luring him back in.

“How long, Loki,” Thor asks him, quiet.

Loki blinks up at him. Doesn’t miss a beat as he says, “You’re my twin.”

Forever.

Loki’s been suffering just like he has.

It’s the answer he’s been wanting, but nothing he ever expected to hear. And nothing he ever wished for his brother to endure alone. It suddenly feels overwhelming, how ridiculous he’s been, keeping it to himself.

Thor holds himself up on his elbows, taking in all the emotions Loki’s allowing him to see cross his usually stern features. Fear isn’t in the majority. Hope probably wins out. Too much pain to console, it would take a lifetime more to ease away every worry and hurt. Thor knows he’ll endure the same, and happily if it means having everything he’s ever wanted.

Loki starts to shake again and only then does Thor see a new kind of fear spread over him. Rejection. Thor’s taken too long to answer. Loki thinks Thor doesn’t want him. Fear is a poison he’s tired of indulging.

Thor rolls his hips, hard, letting Loki know exactly where he stands. What he wants. What he’ll give. He watches Loki’s neck tense as he strains to hold his head up, but fails. He falls back to the pillow on a groan and Thor just does it again.

He’ll come like this. He’s never had sex. But he can tell Loki’s wet, can tell how much he’s aching by how hard his calves press into the backs of Thor’s thighs.

“We should,” Thor starts to say, but loses his thread.

“Yeah.” Loki swallows and Thor sees his throat work. “Yeah. Have you ever?”

Thor knows what he’s asking. “No. Have you?”

Loki shakes his head, no, and some primal part of him loves that he can be his brother’s first.

“We’ll be each other’s,” Thor says, before thinking better of it. Before even knowing if Loki really wants that. “We’ll love each other.”

They’re strange words, twisted by something. But Loki is snaking his arms around his shoulders and sniffling, saying yes over and over again.

“But not right now,” Loki whispers, and it’s like he took the words right from Thor’s mouth.

Thor smiles down at his brother. His lovely, blushing, enrapturing brother. The tension in Loki’s legs lessens to where he’s just framing Thor’s thighs. His hands play with the ends of Thor’s hair. He swallows, again and again, licks his lips. He nods once and Thor returns it, a question and an answer.

“You’re promising a lot, Thor,” Loki tells him. “To me, of all people.”

“You know I’ll promise more,” Thor answers him. “You know I’ll promise you everything.”

Loki’s eyes shine. “You already have.” It’s not a question.

Thor grins, happy and light and full to brimming. He descends to press a last, lingering kiss to Loki’s cheek before he collapses on top of him. He bear hugs his brother, humming into the bend of his neck.

Loki groans at the weight, but hugs him back anyway.

   They go out to eat, because it’s easier than being at home, where the pull of a bed or soft surface is so close at hand. Easier to be in public where they have plenty of other places to look other than each other.

At least that’s what Thor thinks. But he can’t keep his eyes off his brother. His brother, in tight leggings and a button up. His hair is slicked back and he wears sunglasses—and when the hell did his brother become so…so hot?

“You’re staring,” Loki whispers to him as they wait in line at Panera Bread. “It’s rude.”

Thor leans into him. Loki presses back as a counterweight. “You’re hot, is all. Where do you expect me to look?”

Loki’s lips curl up. He steps forward and orders for them both. The cashier smiles at the two of them and Loki plays it up—loops an arm around Thor’s waist, jostling him close. Even kisses his cheek.

When they’re sitting, Loki says, “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He’s so focused on eating, replaying the morning’s events that he doesn’t quite register the question. “Huh?”

“About me being hot?” Loki explains. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Thor’s elated Loki’s playing along with him. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Loki hums. Eats half his sandwich while he thinks. Thor suspects Loki already knows exactly what he wants to do, because Loki often already did.

“Let’s get a pool.”

Thor swallows his food wrong. He coughs, clears his throat, all while Loki silently laughs across the table at him.

“Where are we going to get a pool?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “They sell them literally everywhere. It’s summer after all.”

   Their backyard isn’t small, but it’s not what Thor would ever call spacious either. They have a patio and a manageable garden. Thor is in charge of mowing the grass, which takes all of thirty minutes to do. They have one tree.

But when Loki throws down the kiddie pool, he frowns.

“This seemed larger in the store.”

Loki shrugs. “Just go get the hose. I’ll be right back.”

Thor dutifully gathers the hose up to start filling the pool. It takes ten minutes. He stares into the steady pour of cool water, letting his thumb trail lazy over the very top of the spray, spritzing the grass and his legs.

He stares down into the water after he tosses the hose aside, wondering how they’ll both fit when Loki comes back out. Thor toes off his shoes and peels off his socks.

Thor’s still facing the water when he says, “It’ll be a tight fit, Loki. I don’t know—”

Loki strides past him and steps over the lip of the pool. He takes care not to slosh, but then he just turns and stands there, a look of determination on his face. He’s completely stripped down, standing casually, like he’s not naked for anyone to see.

Thor blinks down, and it’s easier than when they’d been in this same position after Loki’s shower. Easier to look his fill. Look at the dark hair gathered in the crux of Loki’s legs, the spattering of hair that covers him down to the ankle. He’s always been happy that Loki never shaved, that he never cared about that stuff. He smiles, overcome by everything all at once, and all he can do is smile like an idiot. Loki inhales sharp and Thor locks eyes with him.

“We’re the same,” Thor says and is rewarded with a smile in return.

“Come here,” Loki says, and it’s kind.

Thor pulls his shirt over his head. Loki’s eyes flicker down, caught on his chest, then his stomach. He’s the one to undo Thor’s pants, and Thor takes the hint to rid himself of them quickly. When he’s down to his briefs, Loki’s hands go still, hooked on the band.

“This was easier in my head,” Loki mutters, brow creased.

“Leave them, then,” Thor whispers, finding Loki’s chin with a hand.

Loki looks up and Thor draws him into a kiss. Loki’s smile breaks it.

Thor laughs quietly. He steps in the space Loki makes for him, which isn’t much. He takes his brother’s hands in his and they manage to arrange themselves so they’re sitting, Loki’s legs stretched out over his own crossed ones. Loki’s practically in his lap, and Thor wants to so badly to drag him the rest of the way.

They have the same idea. Loki grasps Thor’s shoulders, pulling himself bodily forward. Water spills onto the grass, but with Loki’s lips peppering kisses all around his mouth, his jaw, then finally zeroing in on his mouth, Thor doesn’t much care.

   The weeks pass by in a blur. It’s the happiest month of his life.

Loki can hardly go an hour without needing Thor to touch him in some way. Always he’s drawing Thor’s hand to his hip, or pressing against his side, cuddling him, holding his hand, touching arms as he helps Thor study, kissing him. There’s a lot of kissing. Endless kissing. Thor will never tire of it. And neither will Loki. He just knows it for fact.

The third week he wakes in the middle of the night, startled. He’s drenched in sweat and shaking. Beside him, Loki is staring at him, fingers wound tight in the hem of his shirt.

He had a nightmare Frigga found them. Kicked them out. That Odin hunted them for years with no reprieve. No end in sight.

Loki rolls into him, wordless. Draws Thor down so he can maneuver himself until he’s straddling Thor, never leaving more than a few inches between them. He kisses Thor like he loves him, and it’s not a question. Thor knew that. He knows it. He remembers that he knows that. Loki chases the dream away with teeth and tongue, slowly sinking down his body. Thor’s confused until Loki reaches his underwear.

Loki hooks his thumbs under the band, asking if it’s alright with a look. Thor rubs a thumb over Loki’s wrist, a confirmation. A comfort more for himself than for Loki because he knows Loki’s been gunning for this for a while. Loki pulls his underwear down, only rising up long enough to remove them entirely. He drags his fingers through the hair of Thor’s groin, breathing ragged. Kisses his belly, sucking the soft skin into his mouth with soft pops, almost making a game of it. He spends a long time just loving the flesh of Thor’s stomach. Long enough he’s left blushing and shy and overwhelmed.

Then Loki takes a U-turn, suddenly laving the side of his flushed cock with the flat of his tongue. His brother licks and suckles him until Thor’s fisting the sheets. Takes him down until he’s straining against Loki’s tongue. Loki moans quiet, soft, and is easy with it. Lazy, in a way. It’s pleasure for them both.

Thor never looks away.

   Thor makes them stove-top s’mores. He manages to somehow burn the crackers but Loki doesn’t seem to mind. They set up on the couch and settle in for a movie night. They have a plate of s’mores, a bowl of popcorn, too much soda, and chicken wraps. To balance all the shit junk food out, Loki said.

Not long into the second film, Loki crawls on top of him, head pillowed on his chest. He sighs and it’s the last Thor hears from him all night. He falls asleep.

   They buy tickets to a music festival for the next weekend. An affair with a roster filled with indie-pop bands neither of them listen to. But Loki wanted to go, so Thor said yes. Something different that neither of them usually do, but given recent events it feels new and exciting to be out and about.

It’s too many people. Too hot. Loki’s shoulders glisten with sweat, the back of his neck and much of his face already sunburned not two hours in. Thor’s always been the one that picks up tans no problem. Loki’s always burned red, left to peel for weeks on end before emerging covered in more freckles than before. Thor finds a wall with an overhang so they can linger in some shade, people-watching while they suck down lemonades and popsicles.

“I’ve been thinking.” Loki isn’t looking at him, instead squinting out at the people walking by in their rubber bracelets and candy necklaces melting stains onto their skin. He bites off a chunk of his popsicle.

“What happens when summer is over?”

Thor feels his stomach drop. He doesn’t want to think about the end of summer. Because the end of summer probably means the end of—

He stops thinking. They don’t need to discuss it.

“That’s not for a few weeks.”

“We should think about it though,” Loki tells him. He drops his head, looking at the ground. “Talk about it at least.”

“What are you asking?”

Loki turns to him. “I’ll have to go back to school.”

He knows that. He knows. “Yeah.”

Loki gives him a knowing frown. It’s not the response Loki wants. But he nods anyway, probably already having an argument in place to tell Thor all the reasons he’s wrong.

But instead, he surprises Thor. “I don’t want you to forget about me.”

Thor shakes his head. “You think I’d do that?”

Loki shrugs again. “This feels like a dream.”

Thor knows what he means. “I don’t want it to end, either.”

Loki’s popsicle drips down his hand. His bottom lip wavers.

“Will it?” Loki asks, a murmur.

Thor squints out at the crowd of people herding from one side of the open-air venue to the other, going from one food cart to the next. Kids grip cheap stuffed-animals tight in their arms as their parents argue behind them about stupid things. Meaningless things.

He leans forward and kisses Loki. Keeps kissing him even when he gasps a shocked Thor! and tries to push him away. Thor wraps him in his arms, popsicle forgotten as he crowds his brother against the cool cement wall. Because he can, because he wants to. Because here, they’re no one, they’re not brothers, they’re themselves. Keeps kissing him, especially when Loki melts, fears successfully chased away. Gone, like they need to be.

“It’ll be hard for a while. Just until I make it into college. Then,” Thor says, on the heels of another kiss, “you’ll have too much of me to know what to do with.”

Loki blinks away the tears forming quick in his eyes. He’s always been an easy crier. His brother’s face is open for an instant, and Thor sees right to the center of him.

“This won’t go away,” Thor soothes.

Loki nods, presses his mouth to Thor’s jaw, his cheek, before finally drawing away.

“I know.”

   When they’re home, Loki immediately peels his shirt off, walking around topless with a relieved sigh. He stands in front of the fridge with his head in the freezer, eyes closed and cheeks red.

Thor sidles up behind him, smiling as he takes Loki’s hips in hand. He trails them up his sides, around the front of his shoulders. Can feel the heat of his flesh as they line up, feel where Loki presses his ass back, seeking any sort of pressure. Thor evades him, instead kissing his shoulder, then his neck. Moves his hair aside so he can mouth up the damp expanse from spine to ear, sucking and biting until Loki is writhing against him.

His fingers skate back down, brushing his nipples. Loki shudders. Thor cups Loki’s breasts in his hands, squeezing and pulling until his nipples are hard. Loki’s head falls forward, hitting a bag of frozen fruit. Arches his spine and reaches back to yank Thor’s hips tighter against him.

Loki’s other hand finds one of Thor’s, takes it and places his fingers over the fly of his pants. Thor can’t help the moan that escapes him as he fiddles and works his hand inside. He brushes coarse hair, and further down—Loki bucks and then he skims wet heat. He whirls his fingers over slick skin and Loki keens, groaning low in his throat as he pushes forward, backward, trying to get friction.

Thor holds him tight, one arm braced around his chest, the other working curious fingers over new territory. He doesn’t want to hurt his brother accidentally, but every touch sends a shock through him, making him jerk and twitch and moan with the smallest pass of his fingers.

Loki gasps Thor’s name. Says, “It’s not like this when I do it. I knew you’d feel so much better.”

Thor smiles against Loki’s skin, suddenly shy. He closes his eyes and rests his cheek on his brother’s shoulder. He circles his thumb and slides a fingers lower, slipping inside for the first time and he has to hold Loki firm. Loki lifts a thigh, trying to make more room, but Thor just holds him. Keeps doing it again and again while Loki rakes his nails down the forearm holding him upright.

“Right there,” Loki whispers, voice raspy and half gone. “Right there.”

Loki comes apart in his hands and Thor knows he’s going to have a hard time ever wanting to do anything else.

   After, he leads Loki to the couch. Hands him a water and commands him chug it down while Thor’s watching. Loki laughs and waves him off. He flops back, exhausted and sated, a contented smile set in place.

Thor kneels, starts pulling Loki’s pants off. Loki just watches him, amused. His breathing only picks back up when Thor does the same to his underwear, pausing at the red lace.

“I thought you wore lingerie,” Thor says, happy. He recalls the day in the airport.

Loki narrows his eyes and lifts his hips. “Gives me some breathing room. Get on with whatever you’re about to do.”

Thor huffs, then presses his mouth firm against the center of him and Loki bucks, mouth falling open.

Instead of pulling them off his hips, Thor simply moves the lace aside with two fingers hooked into the material. Loki’s skin is flushed here too, glistening wet, the heady scent filling his senses. Loki’s legs are shaking ever so slightly, so Thor chooses to soothe him by licking right in. No cause or room for doubt. And he knows he could do this forever.

Loki goes quiet. Thor doesn’t come up for another hour.

   Frigga calls six days before they’re due home. Thor’s been counting the minutes. Summer has passed too quickly.

He puts her on speaker, and Loki perks up from where he’s helping research college prep for Thor.

“Hey, loves. We’ll be back on Sunday night, don’t forget!”

They laugh and say they won’t. Promise.

Frigga talks and talks about how wonderful Morocco is. How many fun things they’re bringing back. On and on, she goes. Odin chimes in every now and again too, equally thrilled in his own quiet way.

Loki’s just staring at Thor. Plays with his fingers idly. Distracted, Thor knows. Or an effort to distract.

They have six days left.

   For two days they hardly leave bed to do more than bathroom breaks and order food. Thor’s room becomes their haven. Loki drags in his blankets and pillows and they stack them all around, a fort if ever there was one. A nest. Thor burrows down, dedicated to never leaving until Loki asks him to, or they must. Loki never asks, Thor knows he won’t but the passage of time is keenly felt between them both. A warning. A countdown.

They stay mostly unclothed, from morning to night, and back again. He’s never felt more at peace than with Loki pressed nude all alongside him, doesn’t matter if they’re kissing or sleeping. His favorite so far is just being near each other, finding something he wasn’t aware he’d been missing all this time. Thor’s felt like Loki’s been wanting to ask him something, but he never does. Just keeps ending half questions in funny ways. Finally, Thor’s had enough. He’ll draw the answers out of Loki with pleasure.

“Tell me what you want to do,” Thor hums against his chest. He laves at a nipple and Loki sighs with it. “Everything, brother.”

Loki’s breath hitches as Thor travels lower and lower. When he nips at Loki’s belly he breaks.

“I want to be inside you,” Loki gasps. Then, “But—”

“Please.”

Loki blinks and when they lock eyes, Thor smiles.

He moves until he’s boxing Loki in, straddling him. Licks into Loki’s mouth until he’s nodding, hands reaching for Thor’s ass. He kneads and squeezes him until Thor is panting above him. Thor rolls to his side, hiking a leg high over Loki’s side to give him free reign over wherever he pleases. Draws his hand up to suck his fingers, makes them drip. As he does so, he finds Loki’s heat with his free hand, rubbing until his brother’s hips start to twitch forward.

Loki reaches down and finds his hole. Presses steady until Thor opens enough for a single finger. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, next to kissing his brother.

They stay entwined for hours, wringing cries and gasps from one another until the sheets are soaked beneath them.

   “You still have a few months before the tests. And then you can apply, but,” Loki says, “I think you’re ready as you’ll ever be. Just keep up with your studies.” Then, more quiet, “I’m a call away if you need more help.”

Twelve hours and their parents will be home. Twelve hours and reality will come crashing back in, sweeping them up and away to their normal lives apart from each other.

But now they know what at least part of the rest of their lives hold.

They eat in near silence. Loki picks at his food like a bird, staring down at what Thor made them like it’s gray mush. Thor feels similar.

Loki follows him into the shower. When Thor is kneading suds through Loki’s dark hair, Loki turns and just stares at him. Thor nods, feeling as if something massive has been agreed upon. He has some idea. Loki wraps his arms around his waist and leans his cheek against his chest while Thor rinses his hair.

When they step out, Thor towels them both off. Bends to pat down Loki’s feet and shins, and ends up spending twenty minutes on his knees eating him out for all he’s worth. Loki has to hold the towel bar to keep standing.

Loki grips his hair in a gentle hold to pull him back up. Touches his face and smiles darkly as he leads them down the hall to Thor’s bedroom. Pushes him down into the fresh sheets from that afternoon’s laundry and follows him down. Straddles Thor’s thighs, reaching back to grip his cock in a strong, almost lazy touch, arching back against him.

Thor doesn’t have to ask if Loki’s sure. His brother leads, commanding every touch, demanding in return. Thor squeezes Loki’s nipples, trailing one hand down to roll his clit between two fingers. Loki shuffles out a harsh breath, peers down at him with pupils blown wide, swathing the green almost entirely black. Loki lifts only high enough so he can drag Thor along his slick heat, coating him with three passes of his hips. Thor bites his lip to keep this from being over too quickly.

Loki murmurs Thor, brother, and begins to sink down onto him. Loki’s so tight, almost painful in how much he’s being squeezed with every inch Loki lowers himself. Thor rolls his hips up, and it helps. Loki sits flush against him, collapsing forward, bracing himself by planting both hands firmly on Thor’s chest.

Thor thrusts to meet his brother, can’t get over how good it feels. How he never wants to leave his brother’s body. He’ll live right here, filling each other in turns until neither of them have to live empty again.

Loki moans and falls forward, burying his face in Thor’s neck. Thor feels his brother kissing and sucking at his throat, and as they both lose their rhythm, hardly even that. It falls apart into wordless shapes against his skin, and Thor desperately wants to know what his brother is telling him. He turns to meet him, and isn’t shocked by the tears he finds. Loki kisses him and he feels more loved than he ever has.

Thor feels Loki begin to pulse around him, then the tense of his thighs, holding tight. Letting Thor know exactly what he wants. Thor holds Loki to him, a hand at the base of his spine, the other buried in his hair. He spills for so long, he sees white. White that bleeds black that bleeds back to green, to Loki watching him, to the fingers skating soft in wonder over his cheek.

   Thor holds his brother until dawn. Loki’s the one to give them a final kiss when they hear the familiar crunch of gravel under their parent’s car’s tires.

“This isn’t the end,” Loki whispers against his throat.

“It’s not,” Thor whispers back. “What’s a few months apart when we have our whole lives to love each other?”

Loki looks up, meets his eyes.

He smiles.