Boltedfruit Archive

Honesty Will Kill You

Published: 2021-07-17

Category: M/M

Rating: E

Words: 4,481

Fandom: Thor

Ship: Thor/Loki

Characters: Thor, Loki

Tags: Jotun Loki, Mpreg, Mildly Dubious Consent, Jotunheim, Intersex Loki, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Blowjobs

Summary:

“But you are with child,” he starts, confused. “This must be a cruel joke. If you are wed and expecting an heir, why are you here?”

 

Loki looks at him like he’s stupid. Then he stands, pushing close enough to tangle his hands about Thor’s neck, dipping into the hair at his nape. Loki smiles and it’s cruel. Then it’s kind. Then it’s fearful. Thor isn’t sure which is right.

 

“A first tryst, unforeseen consequences. That is all it is.”

 

Thor is careful not to press against his abdomen much, small though the swell is. Something about the way Loki says it sits oddly within him.

 

“You are willing then, to be here? Doing as the common folk are expected?”

 

It stings. Thor can tell. “Are not all bastards, princes, and heirs subject to the will of their fathers? It is my honor, my duty, to provide for the Thunderer, the Prince of the golden shroud. Does that not make me willing?”

 

Thor can tell it does not. But he thinks on Odin’s command. Of his mother’s cold eyes.

 

He will not risk a lasting peace.

Author's Note

Originally posted around 2019.

“You will go to Jotunheim,” his mother tells him to his dismay. “And you will tell Laufey your father’s decree.”

 

“Mother, it is—”

 

“It is a delicate matter only. They know your name. They know the power you carry with you.” She looks pointedly at Mjolnir strapped to his right hip. “Let them know the way things will be now, and they will accept it.”

 

Frigga sweeps a golden wave of hair over her left shoulder and Thor sees nothing close to remorse in her bright eyes. He’s never liked how Odin has issued orders through his queen.

 

“Or?” he prompts, knowing there is yet more she is not saying.

 

Frigga blinks. “Or they will be destroyed. An easy choice, in my opinion.”

 

Thor feels off about the whole thing as he watches her walk away.

 

He leaves to prepare for the journey.

 

 

It takes but a moment to arrive on the snowy planes of Jotunheim from Asgard’s Bifrost. Heimdall had not even offered him words of comfort before leaving, and if that was not telling of the way things would go, he is not sure what would be.

 

There is a small procession there to greet him with stony glares and thin frowns. Only one giant smiles, and he is not as large as the others. Around his neck is a pattern of gold so thin it shines over the flesh as if it was but a membrane of the stuff. Thor fights the urge to stare hard at the thing, an effort to distract from his nerves.

 

“Welcome, Prince,” the Jotun says, stepping forward. His inclines his head easily, while the others follow suit stiffly and with worsening stares by the moment. Thor knows none here are Laufey. “This is your first time alone in our realm, yes?”

 

Thor nods. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. His parent’s orders sit stuck in the back of his throat. If he speaks, he fears some inkling of the new order will spill forth unbidden from him, spoiling the whole excursion.

 

The Jotun’s smile falls flat, too still for too long as he waits for an answer that doesn’t come. Finally, “You may call me Helblindi. Please, I will lead you to your quarters.”

 

Thor nods again, satisfied with the heir of Laufey being sent to greet him, and tromps along in the deep snows after him. He feels the energy of the others who fall into place at either side. His immediate response to an enemy flanking him is to wield the hammer he carries and knock angry heads off bloody shoulders—but he cannot. He will not.

 

He has been trusted to maintain Asgard’s reigning peace. He will not ruin the chance.

 

Thor looks out to the far mountains, black and forested in the distance. He thinks on his father’s wishes. Imagines what will be left of the place if— when it happens.

 

The ruin will come later, he knows.

 

 

Truly, the only saving grace of the trip is the promise of a warm bed and good meal. Jotunheim has a marvelous cuisine despite its frozen exterior, and they appreciate a roaring fireside as much as anyone would. Thor finds silks and furs piled high on a massive bed framed in ice that scratches at the ceiling far above them. The largest Jotun moves to the fire to stoke it, the old scars flashing stark against his broad face as the flames leap. Helblindi is still talking when Thor’s attention wanes on the sight.

 

“…And you will have the best of the best at your side to keep you plenty busy through the long nights here.”

 

“Ah, yes.” He’d almost forgotten about that. Not much thought was spared for how could they accommodate him with anyone of their size? It would be nigh impossible, he always thought so.

 

“My own brother, in fact.”

 

Thor blinks. “Come again?”

 

“He is a bastard, but he will be everything you’ll want and more. I’m certain of it. You’ll not be left wanting.” Helblindi seems proud of the offering of his own sibling.

 

“And Laufey-King is alright with this?”

 

Helblindi looks confused. “Why, it was his very idea. The boy is everything an Aesir will love. Of that,” he says, looking sly, “I am confident.”

 

He feels ill, but he smiles to not let it show.

 

“What is his name?”

 

Helblindi flits his hand in dismissal. “That is unimportant. The boy will be wet for you, that is all that matters.”

 

Thor does not bother hiding the way his smile falls. Helblindi grins wider for it.

 

 

Thor must sit through two counsels with Laufey and the other son—Byleister. An ogre is what he is, larger than anything he’s yet seen. A vicious chunk ripped from one shoulder, the muscle healed over wrong. He snarls when he speaks, and Thor finds it’s easier conversing with a warlord who does not bother hiding it the truth of the violence he knows. He does not see Helblindi again.

 

Laufey is quiet through much of their meetings, speaking only when Byleister finds no words for one matter or another. Thor does not miss the way he watches his son and finds the look too similar to the way Odin has been staring at him of late.

 

The night comes quick enough and Thor is allowed only a moment’s privacy before he remembers what is waiting for him in his quarters.

 

The boy as Helblindi so strangely called him is, to his relief not a boy. The bastard son of the King is a man, a runt of a Jotun, small like Thor, but a man all the same. He wears jewels at his throat and his temple, woven in with the oddest of traits he’s seen a Jotun have—waist-long black hair that spills prettily over his lean shoulders.

 

The Jotun does not look away as Thor observes him. Not even when he notes the way the Jotun’s belly is rounder than the rest of him.

 

Fit for an Aesir’s tastes, indeed. Thor can only shake his head at the realization. The insult.

 

“What’s your name?” Thor asks him, calling out across the room. He does not want to spook him.

 

The Jotun looks at the floor and starts undoing the belted leather at his hips.

 

Thor rushes forward, hands up. “Your name, only.”

 

Blue hands go still before falling away. He looks at Thor as he nears, and Thor can see the nervous tilt of his brow.

 

“Loki.”

 

“I am Thor,” he says. “Helblindi told me about you. You are the third prince?”

 

“No,” Loki says, scoffing.

 

“But you are with child,” he starts, confused. “This must be a cruel joke. If you are wed and expecting an heir, why are you here?”

 

Loki looks at him like he’s stupid. Then he stands, pushing close enough to tangle his hands about Thor’s neck, dipping into the hair at his nape. Loki smiles and it’s cruel. Then it’s kind. Then it’s fearful. Thor isn’t sure which is right.

 

“A first tryst, unforeseen consequences. That is all it is.”

 

Thor is careful not to press against his abdomen much, small though the swell is. Something about the way Loki says it sits oddly within him.

 

“You are willing then, to be here? Doing as the common folk are expected?”

 

It stings. Thor can tell. “Are not all bastards, princes, and heirs subject to the will of their fathers? It is my honor, my duty, to provide for the Thunderer, the Prince of the golden shroud. Does that not make me willing?”

 

Thor can tell it does not. But he thinks on Odin’s command. Of his mother’s cold eyes.

 

He will not risk a lasting peace.

 

Thor plants his hands steady at Loki’s hips and turns them around. He sits at the edge of the bed and partakes in no ceremony in unlacing his breeks. Loki wastes no time in settling his legs about Thor’s waist to straddle him, rubbing his slit against Thor’s cock, thickening more with every stroke. He can feel Loki’s own cock soft against his stomach through the tunic he wears, and he is wet, but not as wet as he could be. When he glances up, Loki isn’t looking at him, instead at something beyond. Perhaps the wall. Or maybe something beyond even that, in his mind’s eye.

 

When Loki sinks down on him, it takes not four rolls of his hips before Thor is spilling inside him. He climbs off and smoothes down the leather covering his thighs. Relief, that it is over. Relief that there will not be talk behind closed doors that Asgard sent an heir that cannot do what he is expected, what is the norm.

 

They wash up and lie down beside one another, silent. Thor falls asleep long before Loki does.

 

 

The next day is one long meeting and Thor dines three times with Laufey. He learns there are secrets here, in Jotunheim’s palace. Secrets he cannot see. Secrets he must learn.

 

The long stares Laufey aims at Byleister tell Thor it is a King deciding his son’s worth to ascend to the throne or not. The snide looks Helblindi throws at Byleister, when he feels like showing his face at all, are the marks of jealousy. That he is not the favored heir. That he is the one better suited for meeting reviled princes near the wastes they so fear.

 

He nearly broaches the subject of Odin’s decree. But the moment passes before he can fully muster the courage for it. They part and Thor wonders how long he will be here.

 

Loki is in the same spot as the night before when he returns, but he is naked.

 

This time, he stands between Loki’s spread thighs, nudging the head of his cock against the supple mouth beneath him. Loki swallows him down, taking him to the root, and he does it well. Well enough Thor lasts a little longer, trying to savor it. His hands find Loki’s hair, pull mildly, not wanting to hurt him. Just wanting to let him know he appreciates the effort. Loki hums when he tastes the thick spurts across his tongue, and he licks Thor clean once before leaving off entirely.

 

This time, when he glances down at Loki, his cheeks are flushed. He is hard, the flushed head peeking out from underneath his belly. He can’t be far along, Thor thinks. Then he realizes he doesn’t know how long the Jotnar are pregnant for.

 

Loki bathes after and Thor allows him his peace. If he had reached between them to take Loki in his hand, he’s not sure what would have happened. He just knows in his heart he does not want to be rejected, however silly the thought is.

 

Once he leaves here, he will never see Loki again. What did it matter?

 

He’s dozing when he feels a dip in the bed behind him. Loki crawls under the furs and settles on his side, Thor thinks. He can feel the steady beat of hot breath along his shoulder before he drifts off.

 

 

The next night, Thor is tired from another long day of doing nothing but talking in circles. Still he has not found the right moment to bring up the topic he so dreads.

 

Loki is dressed in silks when he enters the room, his belly covered. He is sat at the nearest table, eating from a spread of raw fish. He bites at something bright pink and only nods when he sees Thor enter. Thor spies a book open at his elbows.

 

A part of him is glad to see Loki covered tonight. But another, worse part of him wishes Loki had again been naked. Open for him. Waiting. He even liked seeing the swell of his—

 

“You’re wondering why I’m dressed,” Loki states, not looking away from his book as he flips a page.

 

“Uh,” he tries. “Not at all. It has been a long day is all.”

 

“Hm. Laufey often drags things out that mean nothing. I can’t say I miss it.”

 

Thor pulls off his boots and sits in the chair across from Loki, who does not seem to mind. “What do you mean?”

 

“When I was found out,” he says, “I was banished. I was an heir, once. Third in line, but still. Nothing a little regicide wouldn’t help along. Oh don’t look at me like that, it was only partly a joke. They are well used to those from me here. Anyway, now I am but the Jotun whore who opened his legs one too many times for the high court’s standards.”

 

Thor frowns at that. “Asgard does not punish love. It is made freely, with whomever you wish.”

 

“Ah. That is insinuating I’ve done a bit of free-loving myself. It was but one instance before I fell as I am. I told you.”

 

“You did not fall into anything, you are not ill. You are pregnant. That is not so bad.”

 

Loki has not turned a page in some time. “Not so bad for a banished heir who is forbidden to speak to any he sees. Yes, how silly of me to believe I’ve been dealt a bad hand.”

 

Thor glowers, staring hard at Loki. That a father could order his own child to be alone for all time—

 

“And they summoned you back…for this?”

 

“Yes. Subject to the will of a father I despise. Nothing I’m not used to. My freedom falls in line with his moods, which are often changing.”

 

“My father is similar.”

 

“How so?” Loki asks him, red eyes focused on him.

 

Thor figures there is no harm in sharing some small part of the truth. “I was sent to deliver news I have no wish on seeing realized. I am starting to believe our views on what ruling nine realms are, look very different when compared to each other.”

 

“What would you do as King?”

 

Thor shrugs. “Be honest.”

 

“Honesty will kill you.”

 

“At least I’d die with no regrets, a clean heart. I’m not sure if my father—Not sure Odin is capable of regretting much of late.”

 

“Of late being the last millennium, you mean?” Loki asks, turning in his seat to face him fully. “I suppose.”

 

“How long until—”

 

“I’m not too far off, now. A few months. It goes fast for us.”

 

Thor bites his lip and struggles with the words he wants to ask. When he meets Loki’s eyes, he sees his expression soften enough it loosens the question on his eager tongue.

 

“May I…may I feel?”

 

Loki laughs, sudden and lilting.

 

“I don’t ask in jest, Loki.”

 

Something Loki sees in Thor’s must sober him, for he slowly falls quiet, considering Thor before him. Finally, after seemingly forever, his hands go to the laces of his tunic to pull and prod until his stomach is bare. It is larger than even the night before, Thor thinks, marveling at it. He edges closer until he can hover a hand over the roundest part. Loki hums quietly in acquiescence. Loki’s skin is warm where he places his hand over him, feeling the budding life there, under his palm. Can feel the thread of the world-tree enveloping them both. He closes his eyes from the force of it, for he’s not felt anything like it in all his years. Feels it deep in his breast as he feels the ever-vibrant hum of Mjolnir. He must keep Loki safe.

 

Safe.

 

The word startles him, so he draws his hand back. He smiles to cover his nerves.

 

Loki’s expression is more serious than he’s seen when he risks looking back up. Something has changed, he knows. It’s different this time.

 

Loki pulls his tunic off, and Thor sees the swell of his chest, slight but there. His nipples are flushed, pulled taut across the fuller flesh. Thor imagines them full and heavy with milk and his mouth waters.

 

When he reaches to pull Loki’s hips forward, a clumsy transition from sitting to straddling that has Loki panting in his grasp—he can see Loki wants it. His pupils are blown. His face is flushed, and his palms are clammy and cool where they smooth over his back, down his own tunic.

 

Loki presses close to him, not looking away from his eyes as he grinds down, all heat where Thor is growing hard at the feel of him. He wants to be inside Loki—all of him, feel him close, split open on his cock until he spills inside him, fills him up. Gives him another child.

 

“I want to kiss you,” he says instead. Because it’s too much. He knows that.

 

Loki smiles and its shy. He doesn’t move to do anything aside from continuing the slow grind of his cock against Thor’s stomach, the heat of his slit pressing tight against Thor’s cock. He’s going to finish, fully dressed and gasping, and he knows it.

 

Thor circles Loki’s entire back with his arms, pulls him closer than they’ve yet been and Loki calls out. Thor knows it for pleasure, feels it spike deliciously through his blood. He gathers Loki up without asking and carries him over the short distance to spread him out on the bed.

 

He sees Loki’s grin before he’s undressing him, pulling harsh at his breeches until they’re around his ankles. He sees the dark flushed wet of Loki’s cunny and the smooth thickness of the cock resting thick against his stomach. Loki kicks off his breeches and spreads his legs wider, letting Thor look his fill.

 

Thor drops to his knees and licks into the wet pulsing out of Loki’s slit first, drinking him down, soaking his beard and neck as Loki cries out again and again with each wet drag over his clit. Thor fists a hand around his cock and laves wide stripes from his hole to his cunt before diving back in with tongue and finger. He pushes and prods until Loki is keening from a hand about his cock, a tongue in his slit, and the thumb in his hole. Filled and twitching and overwhelming scent all around him, everything so much, so Loki, and Thor feels joy in the way Loki can’t fight back the sob that’s forced from him.

 

Loki slaps at his shoulders, kicks at his sides until Thor is pulling off. He’s pulled up Loki’s body until his cock drags against his hole and Loki moans, eyes glassy. He presses back and Thor takes the hint. He fingers Loki’s slit, swirls the wet over his fingers to push back in and open him up and then Loki is telling him to move on with it, I won’t break and then he’s pushing in. All blissful tight heat, and Thor knows he’s never had this with anyone else. It’s near painful, but Loki urges him on, pulling his hair, baring Thor’s throat so he can bite along it.

 

He spills with Loki’s hole clenching around his cock and his teeth at his throat. He falls over Loki, mindful of where he presses along his larger belly and knows he’ll never want to leave this feeling behind. Full. He feels full.

 

He touches his belly again, breathing hard as he bends over to place a kiss there.

 

Loki stares and stares at him.

 

 

“You know I didn’t expect to get pregnant. It’s not common. A cruel joke, for my first time.”

 

Thor hums his acknowledgement. They’re lying beside one another now, warmth from the other’s skin more than enough that they don’t have the furs close at hand. Loki has allowed Thor the simple pleasure of keeping his hand over his belly.

 

“Why didn’t you get rid of it?”

 

Loki gives him a slow quirk of his mouth, then shrugs. “Felt like I needed it. Maybe it would keep me from being killed if Laufey knew a grandchild was on the way. No luck.”

 

Thor closes his eyes. “He is not fit to rule. Not fit to father.”

 

“I share your sentiments.”

 

Thor debates with himself only a moment before saying, “Odin told me to come here and…”

 

Loki’s eyes shine when he meets them. “And what?”

 

“Raze the wastes. For resources. There is much beneath the mountains of Jotunheim. Asgard needs it for our winters. They are long and becoming more arduous as each comes and goes.” Loki goes deathly still beneath his hand. “But I know it will bring war. I know it would be killing this realm and all those in it. I was told to threaten the same should Laufey resist, but truly, what difference is there? It will shatter the peace our rule has seen for a thousand years.”

 

Loki is quiet for a long time beside him. Finally, he takes a deep breath and rests a hand atop Thor’s.

 

“What will you do to us?”

 

“I would do nothing.”

 

“You cannot do nothing. Laufey will suspect why you are here at all.”

 

“Is it not customary to visit now and again?”

 

Loki tilts his head. “Yes, I suppose. But you cannot return empty handed to your father. He will just send another, or worse, do it anyway. Permission or not.”

 

“I will not bring war. I won’t allow it.”

 

Loki squeezes his fingers. “You are entirely unexpected, Thor of Asgard. You are a famed giant slayer and yet here you lie with one, transfixed on the little one still hidden from the world. What will you do to it once its born, I wonder?”

 

“I would have them safe, whoever they are,” he whispers, for he cannot help it. He feels that same tug of energy and wants very badly to speak his mind. But he won’t, he cannot.

 

But, another part of him whispers, it might solve his problem.

 

“Just as I would have you safe. From all your troubles and sufferings here.”

 

“A fool’s errand, I assure you,” Loki says, not believing him. “Once you leave, I’ll go back to wandering the wastes alone, as I have been. I suppose it is some relief to know there is a war on the horizon, for I’ll have time to prepare.”

 

“Come back with me.”

 

He laughs. “I’m doubly sure Laufey will not take that kindly. His disgraced bastard in the only place he is not allowed to set foot in? Very funny.”

 

“Loki,” Thor says, removing his hand to push up on his elbows. “Come back with me.”

 

“You are…not joking.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“And do what? Be the bedfellow to the heir to the throne? The whore to fuck when he pleases?”

 

“Not that. Not at all.”

 

“Ah, so you do not want to fuck me anymore? I’m afraid I’ve misread the room, lying here with your seed sticky between my legs. Pardon,” he says with a frown as he starts to sit up.

 

Thor takes Loki’s face in his hands and kisses him. Kisses him again and again, long enough that  he hopes Loki understands without having to tell him anything. But he knows that’s not how this works.

 

“I felt something, when I touched you. I felt right. In all my long years I’ve never felt so aligned with what the fates have willed for me. And it’s you— you and the child you carry. Never have I known something so true as my purpose, and that is to protect you both as long as I draw breath.”

 

Loki blinks, and Thor can see his mind working, the suspicion clear in his face.

 

“I’d be a political ploy. Wed the bastard heir of Jotunheim and he’d be legitimatized with an heir of his own. Threaten a world for its resources, and hold the life of those heirs in your grip, you’d be set. You’d be a good son.”

 

“You’re a vexing creature. I can tell you always have been and always will be. But I know you know I don’t lie. I know you can tell, that there is more in you you’ve not told me. You carry seidr strong on your back. I can almost smell it on you.”

 

Loki does try in earnest to pull away then and Thor lets him. He goes only so far as sitting up fully, belly resting in the cradle of his crossed legs.

 

“They told me you would be stupid. A brute only wanting his cock wetted each night. That I’d be done in a few weeks’ time and be free to take some food back with me when I left again.” Loki sighs and it’s shaky. “If you did not kill me in your pleasure taking, of course.”

 

“False.”

 

“Obviously. You’re clever. And kind. I know what you’ve done, the violence only a warrior worthy to wield that ridiculous hammer you carry can accomplish—but you are more than that.”

 

“Tell me I’m lying. Tell me I cannot feel what fate has spelled out for me, in the threads of your life and your son’s.”

 

Loki’s eyes snap to his. “I’ve not told anyone I am having a son.”

 

“Loki,” Thor pleads, taking Loki’s hand up to place it firm against his chest. “Tell me I’m lying.”

 

Loki sets his jaw. Then Thor can feel the slow drag of seidr working plucking fingers across his skin, sinking further and farther until his blood feels light. The touch sings and Loki inhales a sharp breath when he realizes he’s not being lied to.

 

“You’re a foolish, hopeful boy,” Loki tells him, eyes watery.

 

Thor weaves his fingers through Loki’s and moves to press a kiss to his cheek. Loki leans into him and the easy pressure of his weight falling against him has Thor’s heart soaring.

 

“Wed me, Loki, for I want to know you. I want you to know me. Let us raise your child together, and more when the time comes.”

 

Loki chokes out a shaky laugh. “More? That is the most loaded proposition I’ve ever had thrown at me.”

 

Thor smiles, because he knows Loki will come back with him. That he’ll get to see the moment Loki’s babe enters the world, and see that babe grow into a warrior, or a seidmadr. Or something else entirely. He knows they’ll bring about much more than that, but what more was there?

 

“In time. We have an eternity. And I know in my blood that it is right.”

 

“Are you sure your hammer was your calling? You seem to be quite in tune with the magics of the worlds.”

 

“A hammer suits me better than words. You’ll see.”

 

“You’re an optimist.”

 

“It helps. Loki, will you?”

 

“Ask me again,” he says, lips close to Thor’s.

 

“Come back with me, Loki, and I promise you the freedom of the nine realms.”

 

He can hardly finish for Loki is already kissing him.