Sherlock entered his flat, yawning. This had been the most draining case he had ever encountered. He dragged himself over to his couch and collapsed, still in his coat, scarf and shoes.
Suddenly, he heard a loud clanking noise coming from the kitchen. His body shot up from the couch, and he ran into the kitchen, where he found Loki intensively working on something on the counter. “Loki! What are you doing?” “Oh, nothing,” Loki replied, smirking. “Just rearranging your…specimens…” Loki had turned to face Sherlock, trying to use his thin body to block Sherlock’s view. Sherlock glanced over Loki’s shoulder. The brains that he had so carefully put into glass jars, and arranged by size and date of death last night, were now removed from their jars, and savagely strewn across the counter. “Bloody hell!” Sherlock screamed, shoving Loki out of the way. He frantically began scooping the brains into jars, damning Loki’s soul to the fiery pits of Hades. He should never have let Loki stay here. He should have let Thor kill him. He and Thor probably would have been hailed as heroes, for ridding the world of such a menace. Instead, Sherlock had allowed him to hide here.
Sherlock’s mind flashed back to the day they first met. There was a thunderstorm outside. Sherlock had just finished drawing the curtains. He was already in his pajamas, prepared to crawl under his blanket and call it a night, when he heard the doorbell ring. It was late, and Mrs. Hudson was already asleep. He was too tired to open the door. But his eyes traveled to the windows, behind which the weather was ghastly, and something told him he had to help whatever poor visitor was out there. So he walked down the stairs and opened the door, to find a shivering young boy outside. The boy was soaked from head to toe, like a puppy that had been forced to bathe. Sherlock eyed him suspiciously, in no rush to let him inside. “Are you a client?” he asked. “Y-yes,” the visitor responded, shivering. Sherlock’s face lit up. “Oh, then please come in,” he said excitedly.
Upstairs, the stranger sat on the couch and dried off with a towel, as he explained his case. “My name is Loki. My brother, Thor, is out to kill me…” In Sherlock’s mind, Loki’s voice faded out slowly. Sherlock was having a hard time concentrating. His eyes wandered to Loki’s young, pale face. To his chattering teeth. To his long hair, plastered to his cheeks, the tips dripping with rainwater. He looked so weak, so helpless. “So, will you help me?” Loki asked. Sherlock gasped, Loki’s voice startling him back into reality. “Yes. Yes, of course,” he replied, smiling.
Now here Loki was, a year later, living in Sherlock’s flat. Sherlock had helped him escape Thor’s wrath, but somehow…Loki never left. And sometimes Sherlock didn’t mind living with him. But it was times like these when he questioned why he tolerated him at all.
Sherlock finished re-assembling his prized possessions. He turned to Loki, with utter frustration in his tired eyes. “Why do you do this to me? What have I done to deserve such horrible treatment? I’ve been nothing but helpful to you, Loki. I saved your life, for goodness sake!”
Loki sighed. “I’m sorry, Sherlock. I guess I’m just trying to get your attention. Trying to get you to notice me.” Loki looked up at Sherlock as he said this. A blank, uncomprehending expression occupied his face, as was routine whenever Loki made comments such as these. Loki rolled his eyes. “ You know what, Sherlock? I give up. Don’t worry, I won’t mess with your precious experiments anymore. I’m done.”
“You give up?” Sherlock repeated. “Give up on what?” Loki lifted his eyes, looking straight into Sherlock’s. “On you.” “What are you talking about, Loki?” Sherlock asked, rolling his eyes. “Could you stop talking in riddles and tell me what’s wrong so I can just get some rest already?”
“I’m talking about you,” Loki said, walking towards Sherlock. He backed up Sherlock to the wall. “You’re so clueless. I can’t believe you don’t see it. Why do you let others treat you like a robot who just solves cases? You are so much more than that. I see it. I see it in the way you gaze out the window at night, trying to look contemplative. You are lonely. You look out at the moon and wonder whether you will be lonely forever. Why don’t you let me see that? Don’t you trust me?”
By now Sherlock was in tears. “Of course I don’t trust you. You’re a baby! You poke fun at your brother and you always ruin my experiments. You don’t understand what it’s like to be misunderstood! To be an outcast. To be an instrument people use and then throw away at the end of the night when they are through. ‘Thank you Sherlock. We’ll call you if something else comes up.’ Then I come back here to my flat and sit on my bed, my eyes wandering the vacant, quiet room. Wishing that one day there would be someone crazy enough to wonder into my flat, and want to stay. And want my company. Just to talk. Have some tea. Just to sit by me and not feel inferior because of my intellect. Just to survey my eyeball collection and not be afraid. To open the fridge and get some milk without screaming because of bag of thumbs they find. I want someone who understands me."
Loki was silent, staring at the floor. Suddenly, he punched the wall next to Sherlock with his fist, staring angrily into his eyes. “Sherlock, you poor idiot. It’s me. You’re describing me! Why can’t you see it? Do you really think I have nothing better to do than to stare at you performing experiments all day, listen to your stories, and deal with the stench of your specimens? I’m in love with you, you clueless moron! Why don’t you see that?”
Loki’s face was bright red. He turned his back to Sherlock and began pacing the room. “You know what? Forget it. I understand. Even a man as desperate and lonely as you cannot tolerate me. Cannot see me as anything more than an immature little fool, a pest who ruins everything he touches. Loki turned to face Sherlock, staring into his eyes once again. His voice became quiet. “All my life I’ve been the little brother. The annoying one. The one who got pushed around, and told he was too young to play with the older children. ‘You can do it when you’re Thor’s age.’ Well I’ll never be Thor’s age! It’s not possible!” Loki’s eyes were tearing up. Sherlock thought he saw a tear run down his cheek. “The annoying little brother. I guess that’s just my fate in life.” Then he strode to the door, grabbed his coat and ran out of the apartment.
Sherlock stood against the wall, shocked and dazed. Had Loki just said he loved him? He smiled. But where was he going right now? He knew no one else in town. He’d get lost, and then what? Sherlock snapped back into reality, running out after Loki. Closing his coat against the windy night, he yelled into the darkness, “Loki, wait!” But Loki was already running. Sherlock sighed, taking off after him. This boy will be the death of me, he thought.
After what seemed like forever, Loki ran into what looked like a small park. “Loki!” Sherlock yelled again. But Loki wouldn’t stop. He ran across the entire park, hoping to find an exit. But as he neared the metal fence on the other side, realized he was trapped. “Shit,” he muttered, stopping. Sherlock was still running, and almost knocked into Loki as he neared him. He stopped inches away from Loki’s face. “Sorry,” Sherlock gasped, breathless.
So close to his face, Sherlock couldn’t help but study Loki. He looked scared and defenseless. Small pants were escaping his mouth from the run, and Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at the utter helplessness in his eyes.
“What’s so funny?” Loki asked, wary. Sherlock looked him straight in the eyes. “You. You put on this facade of being confident and collected, arrogant and proud. But inside you’re just a boy. A boy with an all-engulfing brother complex.” Sherlock stopped, reading Loki’s face. Suddenly Loki’s frantic expression turned sullen, like a whimpering puppy that’s been kicked yet again. He began to tear up.
“Oh God Loki, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Let me try again. I didn’t understand…you never made it clear…that you were…hurting. Honestly, at one point, I thought you were a distraction Moriarty sent me just to poke at me. But somewhere inside I knew that wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be. All those nights, when you’d lay in your bed and I’d lay in mine, and neither of us said a word, I could feel this unspoken story radiate out from you. Things you wanted to share but never could. About your childhood. Your life story. Your dreams and aspirations. About wanting to love and be loved, for once in your life. I could feel the unspoken plea, “Don’t tell anyone.” I promised I wouldn’t. And I’d hoped you heard me.”
“Sherlock, I-” “Wait, please Loki. There’s more. I- I felt something else on those nights. Something even newer than the waves of sentiment and emotion you imposed on me. It was…in the pit of my stomach. Lower, even. Like a million tiny electric lights, all blinking on and off, charged and waiting. Waiting for something.” Sherlock brought his face closer and closer to Loki’s as he spoke. “I wanted to leap out of my bed and touch you. No. I wanted to grab you. And do something…something…but I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was my skin wanted to slide against yours, my lips wanted to touch your lips, and my stomach, oh, my stomach. It just…”
Loki’s back collided with a fence, making a small clinking sound. Sherlock slipped his hand into Loki’s, bringing it up over his head, pressing it into the fence. He did the same with the other. Loki’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. There was surprise in them, and anticipation. For a moment, Sherlock and Loki stared into each other’s eyes, reading each other.
Loki’s mind was racing. What if this was all a joke? He could picture Sherlock bursting out laughing all of a sudden. “Oh you poor sod. Did you really think I was serious? That I could be attracted to an insignificant brat like you?” Loki’s heart began to pound. His breathing quickened and he could feel the forest closing in on him. “Let me go!” he yelled. “Get off of me, Sherlock!” “No!” Sherlock yelled.
And suddenly Sherlock was on top of him, crushing his lips into Loki’s, pressing his body into his, forcing the fence to bend into a curve to accommodate for his lust. Loki kissed back, fervently, forgetting to catch his breath. After a while kisses became longer, more gentle. Loki and Sherlock reveled in each other’s soft lips. Sherlock let go of Loki’s hands, wrapping them around his thin waist. Loki ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curly brown hair, losing himself in the softness of it. Loki could feel his boner strain against his pants already. He somehow regretted that Sherlock had let go of his hands. He rather enjoyed being spread out against the fence, with nowhere to run, nothing to do but to give in to Sherlock’s body. Loki moaned at the thought, letting his hands leave Sherlock’s hair. He let them travel down his thin back, sending chills down his spine, and landing on his firm butt. They hovered there, appreciating the curve and tightness of Sherlock’s behind. Sherlock shuddered. There it was again. That feeling. Those nerve endings, like tiny fireworks, bursting into a million pieces and being instantly re-lit, again and again. Sherlock moaned. He wanted, needed more, but he didn’t know what it was or how to ask for it. “Loki,” he whispered. Loki didn’t respond. He just kissed him again, caught up in his own bliss. “Loki!” Sherlock exclaimed, exasperated with need. “Yes?” Loki responded, breathless.” “I feel it again. That feeling. I want you. But I…I don’t know what that means. What could that possibly mean?”
Sherlock let go of Loki’s waist, taking a step back. He exhaled and looked away. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. Ever. Whatever it is I’m feeling right now, it’s a weakness. I feel so weak, Loki. I want this to go away.” Loki looked up into Sherlock’s eyes. So this wasn’t a joke. He was being sincere. Sherlock looked like a frightened, confused child. Loki thought for a moment, then chuckled. “Oh, Sherlock, I can help you with all of this.”
Loki threw his body into Sherlock’s, kissing him deeply and fervently. He wanted to taste Sherlock, to know every inch of his mouth with his own tongue. Loki wanted to own Sherlock. He wanted to hear him whimper and cry like a baby. Loki grabbed a fistful of Sherlock’s hair and pulled as he kissed him, eliciting a moan of desperation from Sherlock. “Loki,” Sherlock moaned. “Take me.” Sherlock’s eyes flew open, gasping at his own words. “Sorry, I…I don’t even know what that means. All Sherlock knew was that a part of him, a private and sacred part, was pulsating with…with emptiness. With the need to be filled and occupied by something, or someone, else. Loki chucked and stepped back to look at Sherlock, terminating all physical contact with him. Loki wanted to take in the view of this new Sherlock. The curly haired boy was trembling with need. “Loki please…” he gasped, begging to regain contact with his body. Sherlock’s eyes were filled with tears and he was fervently trying to catch his breath. He was desperate, almost dying of lust. Clutching onto the fence with both hands, to hold himself up on his wobbling as if his life depended on it.
Loki couldn’t help himself. He lunged at Sherlock, attacking his neck. Kissing, licking, sucking, biting, nipping, taking the time to cover every inch of skin that was available to him. He’d wanted to do that ever since he’d first laid eyes on Sherlock. Sherlock gasped, so out of breath that he could only choke out whispers: “Loki, Loki, Loki…” At the sound of his name uttered so tenderly, Loki’s heart lurched.
He stepped back for a moment, gazing into Sherlock’s eyes once again. This time he found that they were in a completely parallel world, oblivious to time and place. Loki didn’t want it to be that way. He wanted Sherlock to be here, with him. To be involved. Not only to be fucked but to have a say, in everything that happened tonight. Sherlock’s wishes would be Loki’s commands. “Sherlock.” Sherlock let out a weak breath in response. “Sherlock,” Loki tried again, louder. “Yes…” “Tell me what you want.” Sherlock was silent for a moment. Hesitant. Then, slowly, shakily, he said, “I want…I want you lower…I don’t know, I…” Loki understood, even if Sherlock himself didn’t. “Ok, shhh. I understand, Sherlock. Just relax and let me take care of you.”
Loki stepped back towards Sherlock and kissed his forehead. His cheek. His chest. Sherlock let out a cry of frustration. “Loki…” “I know, I know. Be patient baby.” Loki chuckled. His lips met with Sherlock’s as his hands traveled up Sherlock’s shirt, his palms moving over his smooth, firm belly. Sherlock shuddered at the touch. He placed slow, long kisses upon Loki’s lips, each kiss a prayer, begging Loki to move faster. Loki’s hands made their way up to Sherlock’s chest, lifting his shirt up and over his raised arms. Loki kissed down Sherlock’s chest, stopping to quickly lick a nipple. Sherlock moaned. What was this amazing feeling and why had he never known it had existed before? Loki’s kisses continued their descent. Sherlock’s breathing quickened as Loki’s mouth came dangerously close to his crotch. Loki stopped at the edge of Sherlock’s pants and looked up at him, smirking. Loki slid his hand over the straining bulge before him, rubbing up and down. “Loki…” Sherlock begged. Loki batted his eyelashes, looking clueless and innocent. “What is it, Sherlock?” “Your mouth…please, I want your mouth.” “Oh,” Loki shrugged, and stood back up to kiss him. “No!” Sherlock yelled, pushing Loki back down. “On my cock, you imbecile!” Loki giggled, his heart racing from the way Sherlock had grabbed his arms and forced him down. “Your wish is my command, oh Prince of Asgard,” he said sarcastically.
Slowly, he began to unbuckle Sherlock’s belt and trousers, pulling the trousers down. Just then he heard Sherlock gasp. His head shooting sharply up, he saw Sherlock’s eyes were closed, both hands shaking uncontrollably while gripping the fence. “What’s wrong?” Loki asked. Sherlock’s eyes opened, revealing fear mixed with anticipation. “N-nothing. I just…nobody’s ever seen…this much of me. It’s alright, k-keep going.” “Are you sure?” Loki asked. We can stop if you want to.” “No. Suck me, Loki. I want your mouth around my dick. I want it more than I’m scared of it.” “Okay, baby. Close your eyes.” Loki slipped his hand into Sherlock’s, intertwining their fingers. He brought his mouth to the edge of Sherlock’s pants, planting small kisses along it. Sherlock shuddered and pressed himself into the fence, as if the sensation was too intense for him to bear. Oh Sherlock, if you’re reacting like this now, just wait until I actually get started, Loki thought.
Loki couldn’t deny himself the idea for one more second. With his free hand, he pulled Sherlock’s pants down, allowing his cock to spring free.
Loki lay against a tree, his arm wrapped around Sherlock, who was half awake on his chest. Loki inhaled the air around him. It smelled of sex and morning dew. Morning. Shit, he thought. “Babe,” he whispered into Sherlock’s ear. “We have to go.” “No.” Sherlock mumbled into his neck. “It’s so perfect here with you.” He peered up at Loki, stroking his cheek. Loki smiled, kissing Sherlock’s hair. “The sun is coming up. Somebody will see us.” “So?” Sherlock mumbled, lost in the (slightly below room temperature) warmth of Loki’s body. “So…we’re naked. And I tried looking for our clothes already. I don’t know where they could be.” Sherlock sighed. “That is a problem.” He began to stand up, noticing his legs felt week. He was halfway off the ground when his legs gave out and he fell backwards. “Shit,” he sighed, falling into Loki’s lap. Loki laughed. “That happens sometimes. Especially since…well, you were a virgin and we went pretty hard last night.” Sherlock giggled just thinking about it, and kissed Loki’s cheek. “Alright, let’s get you out of here,” Loki said, lifting Sherlock into his arms.
“Loki, we can’t walk all the way home naked.” “Oh, right. I wonder if…” Loki paused, and stared at Sherlock. “Why are you staring- whoa!” he yelled, looking down at his body. “Why am I in a barrel?” Loki laughed. “So my powers do work here on Earth.” “Powers? You mean you can…dress people?” “No, but I can give the illusion that people are dressed. Watch.” Loki reached towards Sherlock’s crotch. Sherlock thought his hand would touch the barrel. Instead, it went right through, and Loki stroked Sherlock’s penis. Sherlock squirmed. “Alright, alright, I get it. Now could you please let go of my dick and clothe me in something a little more appropriate?” “Sure,” Loki chuckled. “But let me dress myself first.” He paused, staring out into the horizon. His green suit and armor appeared on his body, as if out of thin air. He looked down at himself, and smiled with satisfaction. “Alright, let’s go home,” he said. “Wait!” Sherlock protested. “What about me?” “What about you?” Loki grinned. “You look great.” “Loki Odinson, get this barrel off me right now,” Sherlock shrieked, kicking his legs into the air. “Get you out of the barrel? Is someone horny again? Sorry, Sherlock, you’ll have to wait until we get back home.” With that, Loki took off, running toward 221B Baker Street, with Sherlock in his arms.
Sherlock was still protesting when Loki opened the door to their flat. He carried Sherlock up the stairs, afraid he would topple over because Sherlock would not stop squirming. “Sherlock, relax,” he said, lowering him onto the couch. Sherlock immediately stood up and strode to his wardrobe, clothing himself. He didn’t utter a word to Loki, and the silence hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Loki sat down on the couch, gazing at Sherlock and patiently waiting for him to finish dressing. His eyes were wide and sad, like the eyes of a puppy who had just realized he’d done something very wrong.
Suddenly Sherlock wheeled around to face Loki. “How could you do that? Do you know how humiliated I’d have been if anyone had seen us? I trusted you! I thought…last night I really thought…you were different. That you weren’t the toxic little brat you’d been passing yourself off as. And I was right. You’re not a brat. That would require a certain level of intelligence. You’re an utter cretin.” Sherlock looked Loki square in the eyes and began to walk toward him. “You’re dangerous to be around. You could do absolutely anything and not even feel guilty. You don’t care about how you make others feel. You don’t care about how you make me feel…”
Sherlock trailed off, his voice fading. By now he was face to face with Loki, gazing into his eyes. The beauty he found in them caught him completely off guard. Loki’s deep green eyes melted everything else. All the anger, all the rage inside Sherlock disappeared. He felt a gentle wave of calmness wash over his body, replacing the hatred in his heart with sweet, tender longing. Sherlock reached out to touch Loki’s face, stroking his cheek. Loki caught his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. They looked into each other’s eyes for what seemed like eternity.
“Loki, I…I love you,” Sherlock finally uttered. “I think I always have.” He remembered Loki sitting on that couch on the night they’d met, his soaking wet hair plastered to his pale white face. In his eyes was the same desperate and fearful look as was in his eyes right now. “I-I love you too, Sherlock.”
Sherlock couldn’t bear to see Loki so afraid. He leaned down and kissed him lovingly. “It’s alright, Loki. I’m not mad,” he said between kisses. “I could never be mad at you.” Sherlock slowly fell onto Loki’s body, pushing Loki flat onto the couch. Sherlock continued to kiss him, taking his hands and pinning them above his head. “You seemed to like that yesterday.” Loki moaned in approval. Sherlock kissed every inch of his body, coming at last to the edge of his trousers.
Sherlock’s heart did a little leap, and he felt fear tying a knot in his stomach. He realized he had no idea what to do next. His mind flashed back to the night before. “What do you want?” Loki had asked him.
Sherlock brought his lips to Loki’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered. Loki took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to make his request. “I want…I want you to make love to me. I want you to take my virginity.” Sherlock laughed. “You’re not a virgin, babe.” Loki looked into Sherlock’s eyes, a serious expression forming on his face. “Sherlock, I- I’ve never had sex with a man before. I mean, not before last night. And last night, I didn’t bottom.” “Oh…” A look of understanding came over Sherlock’s face. There was Loki, the man who was always so arrogant, so self-confident, the man who had fucked Sherlock into the forest floor last night, into an unfathomable soreness, asking to be taken. And more importantly, afraid of it.
“I’ll take care of you, Loki. I’m here.” Loki nodded and smiled. “I trust you, Sherlock.”
The bright morning sun illuminated the couch, creating a beautiful glow on Loki and Sherlock’s already glowing skin. Lying in Sherlock’s arms, Loki let his hand travel idly across his lover’s chest. Sherlock caught Loki’s hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. Loki tilted his head up, placing a small peck on Sherlock’s lips. “Thank you,” Loki whispered. Sherlock smiled. “For what?” Loki didn’t answer, snuggling deeper into Sherlock’s chest instead. For loving me so tenderly and so sincerely, he thought.