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The sun beats down on the training fields, light burning Thor’s fair skin as his muscles burn from exertion. Sparring with Loki is always difficult, but there’s something off about him today. Thor dodges to the right to miss a punch to the face, only to have Loki’s shin smack hard into his side.
His breath leaves his lungs, and he staggers back. Loki doesn’t even let him breathe. He comes forward too quick, sinks a knee into Thor’s gut, punches him in the face. Blood pours out of his mouth as teeth shred the inside of his cheeks. What has he done that’s made Loki this angry?
Thor looks in his brother’s eyes and freezes for a split second, heart skipping, right on the cusp of feeling afraid. The green he loves is nearly gone, colors shifting, turning. Loki has never used his giant blood to fight Thor. It’s not a fair fight, not for a simple spar.
Thor throws a punch out, hits home right at Loki’s diaphragm, but his brother isn’t phased.
“Loki! This is only a spar!” Thor shouts.
Loki snarls and shoves him on the ground, following him. His eyes are unfamiliar, no hint of Asgardian pupil or sclera. Just deep, bloody red.
Thor shoves at Loki. His brother doesn’t budge. He shoves again, but Loki is immovable. It’s pointless.
He relaxes and rolls his eyes. “Fine, I yield.”
Loki didn’t play fair, but Thor reasons that an actual enemy wouldn’t either.
Pain sings in his arms as Loki’s fingers wrap around his biceps tight enough to bruise. Sweat drips off of Loki’s nose and onto his cheek, rolling over his skin. He pushes up again, but he’s tired and Loki has more leverage.
“Loki,” he hisses, “I yield! Get off of me!”
Loki’s lips pull back from his teeth and Thor sees them growing to fangs.
“Loki! Stop!” He struggles as much as he can but it’s no use, he can’t move Loki.
Loki leans in and runs his teeth across Thor’s pulse, and Thor freezes where he lays. The scrape of sharp fangs against his neck sends a thrill through his stomach, and he desperately needs Loki to stop before they both end up in trouble. Loki’s tongue follows, hot and slick, picking up his sweat.
What in the Hel is Loki doing?
Then he’s gone, five other warriors hauling him across the field toward the healers. Loki shouts and twists in their grasp. Thor staggers to his feet and watches the struggle. All his life he’s known Loki is strong, known Loki is Jotun, and his blood runs thick with the fury of giants, but it is another thing to see it.
The hands holding him keep slipping. Thor has never seen his fellow warriors struggle like this.
Loki screams at them, the language guttural, violent-sounding. He’s a giant, truly, even under the short stature and the pink skin. They put a beast in a diadem and called him prince, but he’s still as wild as his kin.
Thor swallows hard and finds he can’t move, all he can do is watch his brother’s form retreating.
He’s beautiful.
—
Loki stares out the window as he sits on the cold stone floor of his reading room.
Rut.
He’s in rut.
It’s not that he’s forgotten that he’s adopted. No, he’ll always remember the day he watched his father die at Odin’s hand. The day he attacked Odin and earned his place among the royalty of Asgard.
What he forgot is that he’ll never escape what he is.
Foolish boy. Well, foolish man now, isn’t he?
The world roars in his ears and assaults his other senses, the heat feels scorching and all around him he can identify people by scent before anything else.
He shudders when he thinks about Thor. His brother by law and by love, despite himself.
All he can see in his mind is the look of Thor pinned to the dirt, struggling until he wasn’t. Loki closes his eyes and pictures it again. Sees the sheen of sweat on Thor’s skin and the flush on his cheeks.
His cock throbs, and he sighs. How many times is he going to have to relieve himself?
The nurse suggested a courtesan. The last thing he needs is to drag a stranger into his bed and risk spilling secrets when he isn’t in his right mind. No, he’ll deal with this alone.
A fresh scent meets his nose, sweet like fruit. He grits his teeth and opens his eyes again. Thor.
A quick knock comes at his door, and he says nothing.
“Loki?” Thor’s voice rumbles from behind the door.
How deep can Thor’s voice go, Loki wonders.
“Brother, can I enter?” Thor is cautious, asking for permission, but a sane man wouldn’t be at Loki’s door now.
Can he enter?
He can be entered.
Loki shakes his head to banish the thought.
“Come,” he rasps.
His throat is sore from screaming when Tyr and the others were carrying him to the healers.
The door opens and shuts quietly, so unlike the way he’s used to Thor moving. Loki can smell him much more strongly the moment he’s inside the room, catches the tang of sweat and something else he can’t even hope to name. Intangible, except that it’s Thor.
Thor’s knees block his view out the window. “Brother, how do you feel?”
Loki works his jaw and moves his dry tongue, then sneers. “Unbrotherly.”
Thor sits in front of him. “You couldn’t help it.”
He still can’t. He doesn’t want to.
“You should leave, Thor,” he warns.
Thor frowns. “They said you’re in rut. You should have someone here to help you through it.”
Loki rolls his eyes and tips his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Like who?”
“We can find you someone,” Thor says, “someone discreet.”
Loki laughs bitterly and lets his head fall forward and loll to the side. “Someone?”
Thor opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks down at his hands, rough fingers fidgeting over each other.
“You pinned me,” he whispers.
Loki’s lips twitch with a smile and his cock jumps. “I did.”
Thor looks up from under his lashes. “Why?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Loki chides.
Centuries side by side and now Thor wants to pretend like he doesn’t know his own brother. Loki has never made it easy to love him, but it’s never stopped Thor in the past. He supposes it shouldn’t stop him now. Only a sense of decency, maybe.
If Thor has any. He’s always been so rash and tangled in his own feelings. They both are, Loki supposes.
Thor swallows and stares in his eyes, face tilting up more and more, body leaning forward. Loki mirrors the motion, meets him halfway.
“I’m not a woman.” Thor’s eyes flick down to his lips, then back up.
The way he says it makes it sound like he’s trying to get Loki to stop this. As if that’s anything resembling a reason to quit.
“Can’t have a bastard with you, then, can I?” Loki counters.
Thor’s eyes widen and he pulls back, sits up straight, looks off to the side, toward the door. Loki thinks he’ll leave, but then he’s unfastening the cloak around his shoulders.
“Can’t have a bastard with me,” Thor confirms.
His boots follow, then his shirt. Sunlight pours over his bare torso, and Loki feels delirious at the sight. Laughter bubbles up in his chest and he shakes his head.
“Get out of here, Thor,” he waves his brother off, dismisses him.
Thor’s fingers tug at the laces of Loki’s boots, and he freezes.
“You need someone,” Thor tells him, “a rut is dangerous if you’re unaccompanied.”
Thor removes both of his boots, the care in the gesture almost sickening to Loki’s rut addled mind. Too sweet, too soft. He tells himself it’s the rut, but he’s in too poor a shape to make any of his usual lies convincing.
“And that’s what you plan to do, brother,” he spits, “you plan to accompany me?”
Thor nods and looks him in the eye. “It was always going to happen, wasn’t it?”
Loki searches through Thor, tries to pull him apart and devine his motive, the way Thor could use this. There has to be something, but either he can’t see it or he doesn’t want to. Or maybe… maybe Thor is here for something else.
His mouth waters now, his tongue no longer dry and sticking to his hard palate. Now all he wants is to taste Thor. Make him wet and loose and fuck him until he’s screaming.
Thor reaches for the laces on his trousers and Loki grabs his wrist to still him. They look each other in the eye, staring, pushing each other the way they always do.
“Undress, let me see you,” Loki says.
A shaky breath falls from Thor’s lips, but he nods and pulls his hand back. He stands and takes small steps back and shoves his leggings down and off. Sunlight catches on the hairs on his legs, shows the way they stand on end as goose flesh breaks out all across his body.
“Turn around,” Loki commands, “show me where I’ll be.”
Thor does as told, turning to offer Loki his back. The sight, the gesture of it makes ice rush through Loki’s veins, makes him feel like he’s as tall as a mountain and just as immovable.
Long, callused fingers reach back and back, sinking into the thick meat of Thor’s ass, and Loki holds his breath as Thor spreads himself open and shows Loki that sweet, pink hole. A wet hole, Loki notes.
“Thor, why are you wet?” He moves away from the wall, going to his knees so his face is level with Thor’s backside.
Thor adjusts his fingers when his grip slips. Fuck there’s so much slick between his cheeks. “I didn’t know if you’d be… more aggressive. Like outside.”
“You weren’t sure I was in my right mind, so you wanted me to be able to just fuck you right when you walked in?” Loki asks, his voice gone thin and strained.
“Yes,” Thor confirms.
Loki leans bats Thor’s arms out of the way and bites the fat clinging to his sides. He means to be soft, gentle, but his instincts tell him to bite until Thor submits. The instincts win, they take over and he clenches down on Thor’s flesh until he thinks he’s almost breaking skin. Thor hisses and grunts, but he pushes back into it, gives himself up. A wild need rises in Loki’s mind, chases away his coherent thought.
Thor is his.
He releases Thor’s side and licks the purple indents his teeth left. “If you don’t want me fucking you on the floor, then you’d better get to the bed now.”
Thor moans and goes onto his belly right there, right in front of the window. Loki’s hands are shaking as he unlaces his breeches, tearing seams in his haste. He rids himself of anything that could be a barrier between them and tosses it all aside in a rumpled heap, messy in a way he hasn’t been in decades.
He crawls up Thor’s body, licking the sweat from his brother’s spine as he goes. Thor groans and shifts, bumps his pretty ass right on Loki’s cock and the world spins from how good it feels.
Loki presses his open mouth to Thor’s shoulder and just breathes, takes in air that’s filled with Thor’s scent and taste and lets his thoughts melt away. Nothing matters but this, but Thor, but him, but the feeling of skin on skin. His hips roll, rubbing his cock between Thor’s ass cheeks, spreading the slick from head to knot. He groans and buries his nose in Thor’s hair.
“Loki.” Thor says his name, begs with it.
He growls and reaches between them, grabs himself and finds Thor’s loose hole ready for him. Thor gasps and moans under him as the head pops in. The heat, gods, the heat inside. Loki buries himself to the root and reaches up to hold Thor's hands. The last clear thought he has is that he wants to hold Thor.
The knot throbs and his thoughts scatter to the fringes of his mind. He pulls out and slams back in, grunts at the slap of their skin together and the sparks of pleasure that dance across his nerves.
Thor whines beneath him, groans and pants and speaks, but Loki only hears sounds, broken syllables that his brain is too distracted to piece together.
Except two.
"Loki, Loki, Loki!" Spit flies off of Thor's lips as he gasps. His face is red, veins standing out under his skin.
Tight, he's so tight. His eyes roll into his head and Loki growls, fucking him harder. Loki's blood sings, his knot expands. Thor is still cumming, shaking, legs kicking.
Loki's stomach jumps, his muscles draw tight, he forces himself as far into Thor's body as it will take him.
Thor smiles, eyes closed, lazy. His mouth moves, he fills the air with bass, and Loki is intoxicated with it. He grinds his cock in Thor's body and feels his knot so close to popping. All he needs is something, anything.
Thor squeezes his cock, and he screams as the knot expands, pulling his skin too tight around the base of his cock. He pants and groans as he cums in thick, heavy pulses.
The world behind to fade back into focus and after only a handful of breaths, he knows this is what he's needed. His head begins to clear as his body calms.
Thor's thumbs rub against his finger. "How long will we be like this?"
Loki tastes their combined sweat on Thor's shoulder and nuzzles under his brother's ear. "Only a few minutes, but I'll need to go again in under an hour."
Thor nods. "So how long will the rut last?"
"Considering that you can't get pregnant? At least three days," Loki answers.
"Oh," Thor breathes.
Loki chuckles and nips his ear. "Feel free to opt out of accompanying me at any time, brother."
Thor shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you."
Loki's tongue is heavy under the tenderness in Thor's words. He lets it lie still and waits for his knot to go soft so they can move to the bed.
Thor hums, sings to him.
It makes Loki ache.
—~—
Thor looks out his bedroom window and frowns as the skies pour out a torrent he can't banish. The winds and clouds refuse to heed his command. Such stubbornness reminds him of someone.
At his back the air stirs and he shakes his head, pain and fondness warring in his heart.
"Oh, Loki, what's the point of this storm? What mischief are you hiding by stealing my thunder?" Thor asks, a smile on his lips despite himself.
He turns around, ready to speak, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of Loki. Rut. Thor knows it just by looking.
"I thought you had spells," he says.
"That blasted collar Pym put on me when I was arrested nullified my magics. I broke the device, but it’s too late, I can't—it won't—" Loki cuts himself off with a growl.
Thor goes to him and gently cups his face. Loki’s skin normally feels cool to the touch, but he’s blazing now.
"How long?" He asks.
Loki shrugs. "Maybe a day before, but now? Hours."
Thor nods. "We should leave the planet."
One of Loki's brows lifts. "What will your friends think? Sneaking off with a super-villain? Scandalous."
Thor frowns, brows furrowing. "Whatever animosity is between us now, you are still my brother and always will be, Loki."
"Shut the fuck up, Thor," Loki snarls at him, his voice hard and closed off, but his eyes are open, vulnerable. It’s not so easy to forget centuries of love, he knows.
Loki grabs his shirt and rips the simple cotton garment off, threads snapping and the weave of the fabric tearing with a whisper before falling to the floor. Lightning reaches down from the sky and strikes the ground outside, setting off alarms and illuminating Loki in crisp white light. Beads of sweat collect around his hairline and roll down his cheeks like tears. Leather slips through denim, the sound of its drag covered by the thunder that cracks loud and close enough to make the windows shake.
Thor moves with Loki’s hands and works to make the process of undressing easier. Still, the rational part of him knows they can’t do this here in the Avengers mansion. "If we stay here we'll be caught."
Loki laughs and snaps the leather of the belt before tossing it across the room. "And that would be quite a blow to your reputation, wouldn't it?"
Thor grabs Loki's wrists and forces his brother to look at him. "They'd try to arrest you."
Loki's eyes drift in and out of focus. "Would you let them?"
Thor recoils, but his hands tighten around Loki's wrists. "Never. Not when you're like this."
A loose, lopsided smile cuts across Loki’s mouth. "Then what does it matter if it's this planet or any other? I have nothing to fear with you by my side. Isn’t that right, brother?"
Silence hangs between them for a moment. Loki only calls him brother when he wants to hurt them both. But the trust in this, to know that Loki still comes to him for this, that doesn’t hurt at all. Thor leans in and steals a kiss before Loki can stop him. Loki is as vicious as he’s ever been, shoving his tongue right into Thor’s mouth like Thor is something to be owned. The force of it borders on disrespect, which makes it the same as ever, and Thor feels himself settle at the contact. He's missed Loki's kisses.
His jeans and boxers fall inch by inch down his hips and thighs before pooling at his feet. Loki growls into his mouth and grabs his ass hard. Thor gasps, breaking their kiss but staying close, breathing into Loki’s mouth. A rough laugh rattles in Loki’s throat, hot breath hitting Thor’s tongue.
“There you are, still like that, do you?” Loki asks.
Thor swallows hard and closes his eyes, giving himself over as he always does when Loki needs him.
Possessive, hard touches slide up Thor’s back, each muscle groped as Loki’s hands move around his sides and up. He hisses as Loki pinches and pulls his nipples. Sparks explode in his belly and already he can feel warmth pooling low, his cock filling.
“You’re just as foolish now as you were the first time,” Loki says, “oh. Well. That is an idea. Why don’t we take a trip down memory lane, brother?”
Thor’s eyes crack open as lightning arcs through the clouds. Loki’s shadow has horns.
“Oh?” It’s a bad idea to ask, but he can never help himself.
Manic joy makes Loki’s smile sharp. “On your belly, brother. The floor would be most accurate, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed.”
He walks backward, his steps weightless as the floor falls away. Thor wonders for a moment if he’s floating, or if it’s just knowing that Loki thinks about their first time the same way he does. His body moves before he tells it and he gives his back to Loki for the first time in decades. The storm blocks the sun and in the shade he sees his reflection in the window. Naked and vulnerable with his cock beginning to thicken and fill out. Not even on his knees yet and he feels a familiar filthy thrill at seeing himself, at knowing what he’s inviting on himself.
“Afraid to say it, but I didn’t have time to find lube,” Loki admits.
Thor looks at his bedside table and Loki takes the hint, nearly ripping the top drawer out in his haste. The bottle of lube sits half-empty on top of everything else. A knowing laugh fills the space, Loki’s voice dropping in a way that makes Thor’s knees want to buckle.
“Look at you, when did you buy this for it to be half gone?” Loki’s props the bottle up on his fingertips, one brow rising. His cock tents his leggings and Thor can’t help staring once he notices. “Oh, brother, you must be truly desperate. No one’s ever fucked you like you needed but me, have they?”
A mockery of a question, but Thor still shakes his head. He climbs onto the bed, walking forward on his knees before, in one last act of madness, he goes to his belly and rests his head on his forearms.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Loki shove his clothes out of the way just enough to expose his cock and balls. Thor’s legs spread and Loki laughs breathlessly.
“I lack patience, Thor,” he says, “but I’ll make it up to you.”
Thor closes his eyes again and listens to Loki’s movements in the space. Heavy steps toward him, then another weight presses into the mattress. A cap snaps open, followed by a rude noise of lube being squeezed out with too much air.
Cold slick hits his hole and he jumps, but releases a slow breath from his mouth. Tension melts from his body at Loki’s touch. Soft at first, rubbing in circles, but two fingers push in too quick. Thor grunts but offers no complaint. He’s rougher on himself half the time. The burn and stretch hits a part of him only Loki has ever reached. His hips tilt back and he goes almost breathless when Loki shoves another finger in.
He groans as Loki stretches him, working his body like they haven’t missed a day of this. Lube runs the length of his ass and he feels a couple drops hitting his ass cheeks, then landing dead center.
“There we are,” Loki whispers.
Thor swallows hard and breathes through a shiver that wracks his body. Loki’s dripping lube into his ass, filling him up with it.
He whines and arches his back to accept it. Heat crawls up his cheeks, Loki laughs and growls at him, stretching him almost too far before his fingers retreat. The bottle hits the bed at Thor’s side. That’s all the warning he has before the blunt head of Loki’s cock is pushing into his hole. Thor’s breath rushes out, his mouth falls open. Fuck, he forgot how big Loki is. His eyes roll into his head and he groans deep in his chest. Pain sears its way up his spine and sends his head spinning, but he doesn’t even think to tell Loki to slow down or stop. There’s a twisted part of him that wants it to hurt. He isn’t in a headspace to look at that part, all he can do is embrace it and grind his hips against his brother.
Loki, for once, has told him the truth. He certainly does lack patience. The strength of his thrusts would betray his desperation if he’d tried to hide it. Their skin smacks and under that Thor hears the wet slide of Loki’s cock moving in his body. If anyone walks by his door, they’ll be able to hear what’s happening. Maybe Jarvis already set off an alarm.
Thor shouldn’t want to be caught.
He shouldn’t.
But he does.
Loki’s hand grabs his hair and yanks his head back and can do nothing but moan pitifully.
Venom drops from Loki’s voice as he speaks between ragged panting. “I hate you.”
Thor would ask if Loki’s talking to himself or to Thor, but he’s probably talking to them both.
“I love you, Loki.” His voice sounds thin, delirious.
Pleasure mingles into the ache in his ass and sets his veins alight. The storm surges outside, rain pours hard and fast. They’ll flood the city. He should’ve insisted they go elsewhere.
Loki yanks his hair and pants into his ear, wordless growls and moans that rival the violence of all their prior fights.
“Thor, cum. Cum now,” Loki commands.
Thor’s eyes fly open and he trembles as his body obey’s Loki’s words. He can feel the pounding of his pulse in his cock as it jumps, dirtying the sheets under his belly. Loki bears down and forces him to lie in it, covering him completely, pulling up just to drop back down and use his full body weight to thrust into Thor.
He bites Thor’s shoulder and snarls as he cums. Thor moans when he feels it, the familiar swell and throb of Loki’s knot locking them together so Loki can fill him.
The spell Loki used to make the storm has taken on a life of its own, it only worsens as they calm.
Thor takes a breath, exhaling on a ragged laugh. “Didn’t know I could still cum just from you telling me. It’s been centuries.”
Loki breathes against the bite mark on Thor’s shoulder, licking the stinging indents of his teeth. “You were always the good one.”