Zombie

The feeling of uneasiness nags Thor from the morning. Even though nothing out of the ordinary has yet happened, the man has a feeling that it should.

All in all, his day is proceeding as usual: he gets out of bed around noon,  chugging his usual cup of coffee, hitting the gym, spending about two hours on weights. The familiar burn in muscles lifts his spirits a bit.

Then he drives his bike to the bar. “Valhalla” is quiet during the day, but only on the outside: to the ones who think of it as just a bar which, for some reason or another, the Vikings, town’s biker gang favors.

Lots of people have misconceptions about biker gangs: to some, they're the outlaws, ones to be feared and avoided at all costs. Associated with crime and dark dealings of the underworld. To others, they're more of the law than the police could ever be: the vigilantes,  protectors of the poor and weak.

To Thor, they're his family and as all families, far from perfect. His father, Odin, the One Eye, the Allfather, if you will, just like his father Borr before him, is the leader of the gang and the  unofficial king of the outlaws. To Thor, their weird little family (which in all honesty is not so little: there are around fifty grown men and women enlisted in Vikings gang, on different levels of membership) is bit of both sinner and saint. Yes they do have deals: arms and substances, protection services and offensive forces too at times, but not only for money's sake: Odin has enough of that already: both family fortune and his addition to it, earned through the years worth of hard work.

Odin is way more selective in his dealings than Borr ever was: that, according to what his mother, Frigga and some of the elders has told Thor.

Thor is not stupid: he's well aware that good chunk of money that afforded him everything he ever wanted is blood money. But he also knows that world is an ugly place and lady justice favors who bring the sacrifices to her.

The bar is almost empty: just couple of his mates hanging in the front pouch with whom Thor exchanges warm smiles, handshakes and pats on the back. He has their respect and loyalty and always will regardless of Odin’s decision on who the family fortune will go to.

In truth, Thor isn't so keen on inheritance: his elder sister, Hela, should be all means be the one to get it: she's good ten years older than him and has done lot of deals in her time, many of which were solved in a manner Thor would not and did not agree on, not like she asked for his opinion on the matter.

Thor officially became one of the gang when he turned eighteen and by the time he was twenty one, good part of the gang saw him as worthy of the title of future leader. Although he was quite content with where he was, he'd lie if he said it didn't please him or boost his ego quite a bit.

The hall is darkened. Heimdall, his father's right hand man is behind the bar, his yellow eyes fixates on a distant point, thoughtful.

“Thor, “ the man greets as soon as the blonde steps through the door. “”you're here early.”

“Heimdall.”  Thor nods in acknowledgement. “Anyone in the back?”

“your Warriors are here. They haven't left since yesterday night actually.”

The Warriors, a small group of Thor's closest friends, are sprawled around in the private lounge, in the back of the building.  They all enlisted around the same time, went through the training together and stayed together ever since. Thor knows for a fact they have his back no matter what, sometimes frankly to an alarming degree of disobeying both Odin and Hela.

The room is heavy with the smell of both alcohol and pot, which, to a novice, would be enough to cause dizziness and nausea. Thor scans the room for the least drunk person to talk to.

“Thor!” Fandral calls him from the far side where him and Hogun are seated. “Look what the cat dragged in!” pointing at the other man.

Thor makes a beeline to them: it's indeed a rare right to see Hogun here: stealth being his specialty, Odin usually has him sent to one concurrent or another to listen and gather intel. Last time he's seen the man was about month and half ago.

“Hogun, “ Thor greets. The man silently nods. “You're back already? We didn't expect you for a week at least.”

“Indeed. Your father's orders.”

“something urgent?” Thor asks, dragging the nearest chair around and pulling out a cigarette from the pack laying on the table.

Hogun doesn't say a word. Talking is not his forte and if Odin has told him not to speak, it's as good as impossible to make him. That habit,  in case of enemies snooping around, is useful. That much none can deny.

But it's also incredibly frustrating for his friends.

“He'll tell us soon enough anyway.” Fandral butts in.  “chill man. Your father that is.”

Thor grimaces.

“How's your tattoo thing goin?” Fandral inquires.

“Well enough. We'll start working on it tomorrow.”

“Who's doin the do?” Asks his ever cheerful friend.

Thor doesn't answer. He wants to keep it all private  and truthfully, has no idea why. Not like he's secretive or anything. Just… He remembers the tattooed boy's sad eyes and dejected demeanor and once again the urge to protect him swallow him whole. His gut is telling him there's something fishy going on there. And usually, his gut is never wrong.

“I don't know his name.”

Fandral raises a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“How so?”

Thor shrugs.

“not everyone is as keen and chatty as you, Fan.”

“What the famous Odinson charm didn't work for you?” he exclaims feigning hurt and shock. “Man what is the world coming to?”

Thor chuckles.

“I'm not trying to charm the pants off of everyone i lay my eyes on.” he teases back in good humor. “Unlike you.”

Fandral shoves him and climbs to his feet unsteadily.

“Yeah yeah moral code of whatever.” he says, swaying a bit. “You do that mighty knight. Ima go hit the sack.”

Thor quickly takes his place next to Hogun on the couch and looks at the other man: he has seen and been through a lot with his friend about the guy's clearly worried.

“What is it?”

“Thor…” Hogun hesitates. “I don't know if I should…”

“ Oh fucks sake, Huggs. I know your “we're in deep shit” face. Spill it.”

“Alright.” the brunette says after a minute. “There's a deal going on behind our backs, Thor.”

“Deal?  Who?”

“Surtr’s buying arms from someone else.” the man whispers back. “that's why our orders keep going down. They're transferring and laundering for someone.”

“Jotunheim?” Thor guesses.

:That's what I thought too. “ replies Hogun. “but surprisingly, not. Not that I know of. Either they're clean or someone's covering for them.”

Thor freezes.

“Someone? “ he parrots back, dumbstruck. “You mean one of ours?”

Hogun doesn't say so, but his grim face is all the proof Thor needs.

“Who?” Thor asks, icily.

“I don't know.”

“Odin knows.” That's not a question.

“He does.”

“And?”

“Ordered us to keep quiet.”

“Us?”

“Thor..”

“No no don't back out on me now. Who else knows?”

“Heimdall and Hela.” Hogun replies sourly.

“And he didn't tell me? Why? “ Thor frowns and then it finally clicks. His father and sister, their right hand man: the only ones above his rank…

“Hogun..” he starts fearing the answer he might hear. “Don’t tell me he suspects me?!”

“Keep your voice down Thor.” his friend hisses grabbing his arm when the blonde pulls up. “Everyone is a suspect.”

“But why.. Why would he think… That I? “

Gods it hurts so much to hear it. He knew Odin and him didn't always agree, but to hear it confirmed… To have the extent of the drift between him and his blood family laid out in front of his eyes like this… To see it so plain so simple and cruel.

The truth.

Hurts like a bitch.

The knowledge ruins Thor's entire week. Rational part of his brain understands the reasoning behind all this: he's the younger child and although Hela is the hair, there's one, no, two glaring issues against her rule. For one, she's… well..  female and while in Odin's household and his business women would never be seen as less than, there's no shortage of men both in the gang and the city who'd rather do business with Thor. A woman as a head of the Vikings is an unprecedented case. Lots of people would not accept that.

Thor is, of course,  not one of them: underestimating Hela is the last mistake he'd ever make. His elder sister is just as capable as she is terrifying and cruel. Thor would never stand in her way unless he had a death wish. Not that he wants to. But, frankly he understands her wariness of him. There’s been numerous examples of younger siblings’ thirst for power tearing the families apart and bringing bigger businesses down. What he doesn’t understand is Odin: the thought of his father even considering, even one bit, that Thor’s capable of such betrayal is beyond painful.

Then there's the other issue: Hela’s methods which are far too violent for Thor's liking and Thor knows that many stand on the same hill in this regard. If Hela was the one in charge right now, this silent, cautious business would likely turn into a bloodbath and fairly quickly. That's how Thor knows that if and when his father passes the mantle, running for the hills is the smartest option. He isn’t a coward and won't do so but.. others might. And if Hela interprets that as an act of defiance…

God help them all.

“You're quiet today.”

The question catches Thor completely off guard. He looks up at Zombie boy, leaned over his shoulder, applying the first, test layer of paint.

“So you wanna talk now?” he shoots back, more harshly than intended.

The Guy looks him in the eye for a second.

“No.” he shrugs.

“I didn't mean it like that.” Thor says after a minute.

“Like what ?”

“You know… Like… Ok that was rude and uncalled for you have my sincerest apologies.” Thor says in a tone that makes him sound like guilt ridden ten year old.

Zombie smiles. Thor feels his stomach do a flip.

“Apology accepted.” The artist says.

Silence stretches enough to make Thor regret his asshole behavior: first time this guy asked something about him, showed interest, unprompted and he just shut it down. Stupid.

“It's uhh… Family thing.” Thor says apologetic.

The guy sighs.

“Thor you really don't have to explain.”

“But I want to, “ says the blonde earnest.

Zombie’s cool fingers brush his shoulder. It's a feather light touch but it's intentional . Meant to comfort.

Thor's heart swells with joy.

“My sister, she… Her and my father think I've done something horrible.” he explains as vaguely as possible. It's still a secret that needs to be kept after all and he ain't no snitch no matter what some people  think.

Zombie pulls out an armature bar and starts assembling it.

“Have you?” he asks nonchalant.

“No!” Thor exclaims outraged, feelings of betrayal fresh. “Why would I do anything that hurts my family?”

Zombie levels him with an odd look.

“Lots of people do things that hurt their families, Thor.”

Thor's rendered speechless for a moment.

“I don’t understand those  people then. “ He argues, totally protective. “Would you do something that would hurt your family?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows he made a mistake: Zombie flinches and shrinks back. And even though the raven haired boy tries hard to cover up the impact Thor's words have on him, he fails miserably.

“Sorry I shouldn't have…”

“I have.”

The reply is barely above a whisper but Thor still hears it.

The artist puts down the half-assembled tattoo machine and stands up.

“Sorry, I…” he mutters. “I'll be right back. I need a moment.”

It takes more than a moment for tremor in Loki's hands to go away. He leans back to the bathroom door, cool metal digging into his shoulder blades.

Thor. Thor has somehow become a huge problem. Loki has no idea where this feeling of safety even comes from, but, for the first time, he really, really wants to tell this man every single shitty thing he's done has been done to him through the last couple of years.

Loki sighs and pulls out a pack of pills from his pocket, swallows two and washes them down with a water from sink.

It will help. It has to.

Thor waits just where Loki has left him, concern and anxiety written all over his face.

“Hey, man,” he starts as soon as Loki pulls the door out. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked. You're not my therapist or anything ok? You don’t have to listen to my problems, I shouldn't have come off like that and…”

“Thor.” Loki says, holding his hand up. “It's fine. Really. I'm the one that should apologize. I totally overreacted. That was really unprofessional of me. And it's not even your fault that you got riled up in the first place.”

“I have a bit of a temper.” Thor admits.

Loki can't help a tiny smile.

“It's the pain, “ he explains sitting back down and motioning the blonde to get back into chair as well. “ Makes people irritable and twitchy.”

“I can deal with pain.” Thor says, sounding petulant.

“Of course.” smirks Loki at him. “If any consolation, you're nowhere near the worst client I've ever had.”

“Oh?  So what's my badness level on your scale? “ jokes Thor.

“Hmm…” says Loki drawing it out, like he really has a scale to put this wonderful, childish man on. “I give it a four.”

“Four.”

“Night's still young.” deadpans Loki.

Thor laughs.

Loki picks the tattoo machine back up, straightens up the lights and gets back to the outline he was doing before the machine failed him for some reason. Good thing he realized in time the ink wasn’t coming off as smooth as it should have been and it was not his hands or eyes that were the problem.

The machine buzzes and for some time, it fills the air with comfortable white noise. Some of Loki’s clients say they love the sounds, some say they hate and fear it. Loki can barely hear it anymore.

The lines are coming along perfect. He’s putting in the first white layer, which is easy thing to do since Thor’s skin is so beautifully tanned. Loki sighs. Gods, this one; this design on this man’s perfect hand, will probably be the one he’ll have carved on his gravestone.

If he even gets one, that is.

“You know I'm really sorry about earlier.” Tries Thor once again.

Their session is done for the day. Zombie is covering up the tattoo in silence.

Thor takes a deep breath, crossing his fingers.

“Maybe I could make it up to you.” He says.

“Leave a good tip, tell your friends about me and I'll consider your debt paid in full.”

Well that's not where Thor wanted this to go.

“Of course.” he replies nonetheless. “I'll. . I'll do that no problem. Just… that's not what I meant. More like…” Gods, he’s ranting, isn’t he? “Maybe I could buy you a drink?”

“I don't drink.”

“Coffee then.” Thor offers, relentless.

Zombie sighs and looks at him like one would look at disobeying child.

“Are you asking me out, Thor?”

“So what if I am?” Challenges the blonde.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Well, what's your name?”

“Bye, Thor. See you on Friday.”

Thor looks like he has no intention of moving.

“You're hurting my feelings here.” he complains half-jokingly.

“Oh my days! Got feelings, do you?”

Thor frowns.

“Come on, what's the big deal?”

Zombie sighs.

“It will be awkward and embarrassing for you and painful for me.”

Right. Like That explains something. He hasn't denied wanting to go on a date with him though. Nor has he said he's not into guys, or already seeing someone. So, whatever the issue is, it could be fixed.

‘’One time,’’ Thor says, ‘’My gang and me, we're on this country fair. There was a parade going on, but my freakin motorcycle would not start, so my pal offers me to ride on the back of his HD Heritage Softail Classic, equipped with passenger backrest. Not that I wanted to do that, but it was better than standing there, looking like a total idiot. So, at some point the bike stalled and would not start. We decided to try to push start it. So I got off the bike and began to push the it while Fandal tried to pop it out of first gear. The first attempt failed. We tried again, failed again. Fandral was about to give up, when I told him to try it in second gear instead. I got in position to push him one last time, took grip of the backrest and ran and pushed as hard as I could.

Then the fuckin bike started, and as soon as it did, my instinct was to grab on to the back rest with a gorilla grip. I was dragged down for about fifty feet. In front of thousands of people. That is the time it took for my brain to tell my hands to release the grip. Once I released the grip my body tumbled and rolled behind the motorcycle.’’

Zombie blinks at him owlishly.

‘’Sorry but I seem to have missed the point.’’ he says, chuckling.

‘’Can’t get more awkward or embarrassing than that.’’ Thor states, brushing his fingers against other man’s. ‘’So I’m willing to try.’’

Zombie smiles, takes a small sketchbook with a pen attached to a side, thrusting it into Thor’s waiting hand. Thor scrambles down his number in a hurry.

‘’And yours?’’ he asks, hopeful.

Raven haired man just smirks, pointing to him the door.

‘’I’ll call you, Thor. Bye.’’