Chapter 6
The first thing Loki registered was that Thor was living in the same city. In his mind, his brother was far, far away. It was easier to think of it that way—that the inevitable distance had pulled them apart. Not that Thor had chosen to abandon him, leaving him alone to bear the burden of a sorrow too great for any one man to carry.
“Mr. Odinson?”
“Yes,” Loki said, hearing his voice as if it came from a great distance.
“He’s expected to make a full recovery, in time. For now, though, he needs—”
“I’m on my way,” Loki said, standing up. It was a miracle his legs held him. Carried him outside of his apartment, down the road where he could hail a cab to the hospital, not quite trusting himself to drive.
—
Thor had always been larger than life. The sun in his hair and the sky in his eyes had made him seem expansive. Loki had expected, as he rode in silence through the city, to be struck by the sight of Thor swaddled in hospital sheets. Had expected to reel back from the experience of being in a hospital for the first time in years. Had expected to feel a pang of sorrow at seeing him in a state so similar to their parents, those last, horrible days.
He had not expected Thor to be awake.
But he was. Thor was sitting up, his head turned away from Loki, talking to a doctor.
They’d cut his hair. There were stitches going down the side of his head, neat and precise.
Loki waited, and waited, until the doctor gestured towards him.
When Thor finally turned to face him, Loki realized that he had been standing in Thor’s blind spot. He’d lost an eye as well. Half of that blue sky, gone forever.
Before he could say anything, Thor smiled.
“Loki!” he said, in a voice so full of happiness that Loki was taken aback. Confused, he looked to the doctor for guidance.
She smiled indulgently. “He’s on some very strong pain meds.”
Ah.
“This is my brother,” Thor was saying to the doctor, sweet and excited. “He’s great. I missed him. Loki, the doctor says I’m gonna come home with you.”
“Yeah,” Loki said, swallowing everything else down. He focused on the scar running down the side of Thor’s head, the white patch where his eye should be. “Yeah, you’re coming home with me.”
—
He didn’t have an extra room, but the couch would have to do.
Thor didn’t seem to mind—he fell asleep as soon as Loki lowered him onto it, curling into himself, his feet hanging off the edge.
Loki went to get blankets. Poured a glass of water and put it on the coffee table. Sat at his usual spot at the dining table and tried to get some work done. Gave up, going back into the living room and sitting himself on the floor, back to the couch, with his computer in his lap.
That was how Thor found him, when he woke up, disoriented, and found the only light in the room to be shining in Loki’s face.
“You’re gonna go blind from that,” Thor said, his voice scratchy.
“I’m not the one who lost an eye,” Loki said, staring at the blinking cursor on his screen.
“You got me there,” Thor mumbled.
“More meds?” Loki asked.
“Phone?” Thor asked.
Loki put his computer away, then reached into the bag beside the table and rummaged around for Thor’s phone.
“Do you want me to—?” Loki asked.
Thor gave him the password, then asked Loki to call someone named Jane.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Loki said.
“She’ll pick up,” Thor said.
She did.
Loki stood up, went to the kitchen to pour himself some water, trying not to listen to the conversation Thor was having with someone Loki did not know.
—
They ate breakfast at the coffee table, seated crossed-legged on the floor, Thor leaning against the couch while Loki sat across from him.
“What do you do now?” Loki asked, moving a piece of pancake aimlessly into the puddles of syrup on his plate. He didn’t have an appetite for breakfast most days, and was eating now to distract himself from throwing himself at Thor and demanding explanations.
“I teach,” Thor said, which was surprising enough that Loki looked up.
“Teach what?” Loki asked.
“Physics,” Thor said. “College. Jane—I called her yesterday? She’s a colleague. Gonna take over my classes for a bit.”
“Oh,” Loki said. “Good.”
“Yeah,” Thor said. “What about you? What have you been up to?”
So careful, so polite. Loki wanted to rip something apart, but instead forced himself to shrug. “I code. Programs, websites. I get hired by influencers a lot. It pays the bills.”
Thor nodded. “Yeah. I’m—glad. Things seem to be working out for you.”
This was excruciating. Loki stood up abruptly.
“Are you done?” Loki said, and began to clear the table without waiting for Thor’s response. Then he handed Thor his meds, sat down at the dining table, and worried himself with code until the sun went down.
—
“I’m not really much help to you,” Loki said, setting some take-out on the coffee table.
“You’ve been great,” Thor said, frowning from where he sat on the couch. The patch covering his empty eye socket was a clean white. He took care of it himself, in the bathroom—Loki was squeamish with blood.
Thor always made sure to clean up after himself. Like he wasn’t there at all, except for the indentations he left on Loki’s couch, the blanket he always folded up after himself.
“You could probably go home,” Loki said, busying himself with the food.
It had been a week. Short enough that they could separate again and forget this ever happened. Like some strange dream, disappearing in the morning light.
“Do you want me to?” Thor asked.
“You never bothered to stay before,” Loki said, sharp, worn thin by Thor’s quiet, unobtrusive presence. By the reminders he brought into Loki’s hollow home, of their father and mother: the missing eye, the blonde hair.
“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered.
“Don’t bother,” Loki said.
“No,” Thor said, “you deserve an explanation.”
Oh, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.
Loki was fuming, shaking with rage.
“I deserved an explanation five years ago,” he said, raising his voice. “When Mama and Papa died and you—you fucking left me all alone, Thor! You left me!”
“I know,” Thor said, his face crumpling, his one eye wet with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry.”
Loki heaved in breath after heaving breath, tears spilling out of him.
“What was it?” he said, his voice shaking. “What the fuck made you run away?”
Thor was weeping quietly now, a hand on his cheek where the tears streamed down his face.
“I was cleaning out the files in Papa’s study,” Thor choked out.
Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“You know I used to…I used to wish we weren’t brothers,” Thor whispered.
Loki’s heart dropped. No, he thought. No, no no.
“Awful of me, I know,” Thor said, his head bent. “Just fucking awful. But I couldn’t help it. I thought—I thought that it would make things—better. If not okay. If we weren’t brothers and I was—if I wanted—”
If he wanted Loki. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Loki felt untethered, like his soul was going to leave his body if he didn't anchor himself. He grasped blindly for Thor's hand, and almost sobbed when it was caught and held.
“What did you find?” Loki whispered, his mind spinning. If he’d thought everything had fallen apart before, he realized now that Thor had done him a mercy.
“The truth,” Thor whispered, finally looking up. His one eye was such a bright, beautiful blue.
“And it broke me, Loki,” Thor said, in a whimper, curling in on himself. His hand tightened around Loki's, almost painful, but Loki could not make himself pull away.
He had to run. Had to stand up, had to move, had to fucking go—but he only sat there, staring in horror as he realized that the man sitting before him was not his brother.
Had never been his brother at all.
—
He didn’t know how long they sat there, shaking apart, only that Loki eventually stood up. His entire body shook, like he’d landed badly from a fall. But he was standing, at least.
Thor didn’t look up, still staring at their clasped hands, back bent as if carrying some great weight.
“Shove over,” Loki said, hoarse.
Thor blinked.
“It’s my couch too,” Loki said.
Thor moved.
“So,” Loki said. “We’re not brothers.”
“We are,” Thor said, sounding shocked. “We are, Loki. No matter what.”
“But you said—”
“I’m in love with you,” Thor said, in a rush, and even though Loki had known, somehow, he’d always known—hearing it spoken still left him shocked.
“So why—” Loki choked out.
“Because I wanted us to be brothers, still,” Thor whispered. “Even though I—even if I felt that way, I didn’t want us to not be brothers.”
Loki swallowed.
“You must think I’m a monster,” Thor said, and he was crying again, sniffling quietly.
“If you’re a monster,” Loki said, squeezing Thor's hand tight, “then I am too.”
“Loki,” Thor sobbed.
“Come to bed with me,” Loki murmured, and felt Thor’s hand tremble.
—
Thor folded his shirt and shorts in a neat pile and placed them on the foot of Loki’s bed.
“When did you get so neat?” Loki said, standing by the doorway, his hands at the hem of his own shirt.
“It’s your space,” Thor said.
“You never cared before,” Loki said, recalling years of Thor leaving traces of himself in everything Loki owned. On Loki himself.
“It’s not...I don’t...I don’t have the right to it, anymore,” Thor said, his shoulders slumping. “I told myself that if I left, I was going to have to give up every part of you I’d ever laid claim to.”
“Well,” Loki said, slow. “Take it back.”
Loki slipped out of his shirt, then tucked his thumbs into his sweats and briefs and tugged them down in a smooth motion.
Thor gasped, a small, broken thing.
“Thor,” Loki said, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “Forgiveness is earned, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Thor breathed. “I—let me. Please.”
“Get on the bed,” Loki said.
Thor went.
Loki closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Thor was laid out on his bed. The wide sea of his chest, the peaks and valleys of his elbows and knees, the wheat-gold fields that dusted his legs, his arms, his head, a topography that Loki had never before paid witness to. Not like this, bare to his eyes. His for the taking.
He bent over Thor, kneeling on the bed, not yet touching.
“Can I kiss you?” Thor asked.
“Please,” Loki whispered.
It was a hesitant thing, the first brush of their lips, but it made a shiver run down Loki’s spine all the same.
When he opened his eyes, he was caught off-guard by Thor’s expression, face furrowed as if in pain.
“What is it?” Loki asked, tracing a finger down Thor’s jaw.
“All I had to do was ask,” Thor choked.
Tears spilled down Loki’s cheeks again, and he leaned down to press their foreheads together.
“All you ever have to do is ask,” Loki said, and finally pressed himself all up along Thor’s body, skin against naked skin.
“It’s okay,” Thor said, when Loki began to slick his fingers. “I can take it.”
Loki frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Thor said, and there was a hint of a cocky grin on his face. “Trust me. I want to feel you.”
Loki inhaled, shaky, then nodded. He wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slick himself, shivering when he felt Thor’s hand wrap around his, Thor’s fingers pressing up between the gaps in Loki’s fingers.
Then Thor spread his legs side, his feet planted on the bed, and led the head of Loki’s cock into him.
They both sighed, shivery and soft, when Loki began to push in.
“You’re taking me so well,” Loki whispered, genuinely surprised, and Thor moaned, rocking down and gasping at the stretch.
Thor’s hands went above his head, clutching and clenching, until Loki reached up and laced their fingers together.
“No more running away,” Loki breathed, once he had Thor pinned down, his cock halfway in.
“No more,” Thor agreed, and bore down.
“Fuck,” Loki sobbed, “fuck, Thor, brother, oh—”
“Want to be good for you,” Thor whispered, rocking up, and down, circling his hips, clenching tight.
“You are,” Loki gasped, “you are, you are.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Thor said, “to, to earn your trust, your forgiveness—”
“You have it, you fool,” Loki said. “All of it, brother.”
He leaned down to kiss his brother on the mouth, and Thor opened up for him, body and heart both.
—
Afterwards, Thor’s eyepatch was blotched an ugly red.
“The doctor advised against strenuous activity,” Loki said, with a hint of a giggle in his voice.
“I’ll go clean it up,” Thor said, wriggling out of bed.
“Let me,” Loki said.
“It’s gross,” Thor said.
“I want to,” Loki said.
He spread his knees on either side of Thor’s legs, practically in his lap, as he eased the gauze off of Thor’s eye socket. Thor sat very still as Loki cleaned the wound and covered it up again, then kissed the clean white patch.
“Thank you,” Thor said, when Loki was done.
“I can’t believe you had to lose an eye before we saw each other again,” Loki said.
“I’m sorry,” Thor said.
“First rule of being with me,” Loki said, tilting Thor’s chin up with a finger. “No more apologies.”
“Being with you?” Thor asked, lips twitching.
“Yes,” Loki said.
“Are there any more rules?”
“Plenty,” Loki said, nodding.
The corner of Thor’s eye still crinkled the same way they always had.
—
They couldn’t sleep. Loki tucked himself under Thor’s chin and blinked against his skin. It felt almost impossible that he could feel Thor breathing, that he could smell his own soap on him. Felt impossible that five years had passed and being in Thor’s arms still felt like coming home.
“Can I make rules too?” Thor asked, after a moment.
Loki laughed softly. “Okay.”
“Rule number two. We’ll try our best not to let our past bog us down,” Thor said, though his voice wavered. “And I know—I know that seems unfair on my part since I—”
“Rule number three,” Loki said, “stop putting all the blame on yourself.”
He swallowed, then pushed past the fear and shame and said, “You left. But I let you go.”
Thor startled at that, drawing his arms tighter around Loki.
“Hey, rule number two,” Thor said.
“I’ll make a list in the morning,” Loki said, around a yawn.
—
Loki hadn’t realized how much he hated living alone until he started living with Thor.
He hadn’t noticed before how quiet his apartment was without anyone else, how easily he could fall into bad habits without no one to pull him out of them.
Case in point: the first time Thor had come home after teaching a night class and found Loki still plugged into his computer, where he had been sitting for twelve straight hours.
“Okay,” Thor said, heaving Loki up by the armpits while he hissed like a wet cat. “Time to get something inside you.”
“Is it cock?” Loki asked, ceasing his wriggling for a moment.
“It’s a sandwich,” Thor said, then acquiesced, “and maybe. If you’re good.”
There were also lazy cuddles and pancakes in the morning. Late night conversations, easy and fraught in turns. Lots of crying, the good kind and the bad kind. And always, always, they came back to each other.
Rule number four: no more running away.