#toploki

iw stucky for @toploki

Loki tosses his hair and knocks back a tall glass of apple brandy. A special treat just for this occasion. Thor is king now. He is a good man, brash and arrogant, but worthy. The pains Loki took to make this happen can never be known. There are worlds he would not see birthed, timelines he will fight to divert with every fiber of his being.

Who knew all it would take was lying on his back so Thor could sheath himself in that slick place between his thighs.

A cheer starts for the king, a song rising through the hall. Their parents, Thor’s parents, perhaps his too with all tragedy averted this time, sit off to the side with the other elders and sing for him.

Loki doesn’t look at Thor, but he does join the song and weaves a show in witch light that makes applause erupt among their honored guests. They know Thor loves him, and in a way they love him too just for that reason. Thor’s love is contagious, a viral kind of thing that exists for no other reason than to spread itself. Not sentient, but vicious and unrelenting. It’s enough that Loki has even fallen victim to it, has begun to like himself.

Volstagg lifts him high in the air and Loki only puts up a mild complaint for it. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif have been good to him in this life.

Loki begins a dance, one with twisting moves that force the crowd to change partners many times. Within two rounds Thor is grabbing him, warm in touch and warm in voice with mead on his breath.

“Do you love your king, little brother?” Thor asks, leaning in just shy of too close.

Loki laughs and finally forces himself to meet Thor’s eyes. The love there rips into him, tears him apart as a storm splits the sea. He is a wide ocean of possibility and magic and Thor has always been a great squall disturbing his currents.

He nods, a smile on his lips as he licks his teeth. “I do, dear brother.”

Thor sweeps him through a dip and allows Loki to do the same in kind. “Then be my adviser. My equal. Be mine, Loki.”

Loki sighs and pretends he has to consider the choice. As they twirl away to their new partners Loki answers.

“Of course, Thor,” he whispers.

Thor smiled and rubbed his cheekbone with a gentle thumb. "There you are, little brother."

Loki clenched his jaw, his chest overfull and body too light where he laid. Tears came anyway, falling down his cheeks. It was too much, he felt like a babe just born; unable to look at the world without it overwhelming him. Thor brought him back. Thor found him. He was safe, alive, and the golden son was shining on him with love. A laugh bubbled up in his throat, through the tears, shaking his shoulders as Thor kissed his forehead.

It was Loki who unlocked the gate, Loki who tugged Thor by the hand to the tree with the widest branches, and Loki who plopped right down underneath its cool, shady boughs to work on sharpening his knives. 

But it was Thor who picked the apple. 

Plucked it right off, free from its home to come to his nose so he could take in the sweet scent of life eternal waiting just beneath that golden skin. Loki’s face was bright, a wide smile on his pretty mouth and his green eyes sparkling. Thor ached to see that excitement on his brother’s face. Even princes could be punished, but Thor knew Loki wouldn’t let that happen. He trusted his little brother to protect them. 

Loki sharpened his favorite knife with haste and took one neat, paper-thin slice out of the apple’s flesh. He pressed it to Thor’s lips, and watched with rapt attention as it was eaten. Loki’s thin fingers were caught by his teeth, his tongue curling around the tips to be sure that no juice would be wasted. 

Each slice was precious and they both knew that. What would have been the use in stealing something otherwise? 

It was Thor who leaned in for the first kiss. 

A stray drop of nectar threatened to fall from Loki’s lower lip, so Thor saved it and pressed it back into his brother’s mouth with his tongue. Loki nearly dropped the apple, a sudden trembling breaking out across his entire body. Thor steadied his brother’s hand, cradling it in his own, marveling at how Loki could be so wondrously petite with all the power he possessed. 

Loki cut a slice of apple and held it between his teeth, smiling in a dare that Thor gladly accepted. Juice burst between them when Thor bit the slice and took his half. A little laugh startled from Loki’s throat, melodic like birdsong. 

The day wore on around them, and the apple was too soon reduced to a core. They buried it beneath the tree, their secret, and headed back to the palace. 

“Thor,” Loki says, voice soft in a way he never allows anyone else to hear. Only Thor can have this piece of him.

Thor lays down next to him and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

Loki opens his eyes and sees his brother framed by the perfect blue sky above their heads. His golden hair gleams in the brightness of midday and Loki feels his heart lock up from the intensity of his love, the madness of it.

“Oh?” Loki asks, a little fearful that Thor hasn’t taken to the idea.

Thor grins. “You’re right, brother. We should take a trip, see who we are, what we want.”

There’s a heat in Thor’s voice that stirs Loki’s blood. Even now they can’t risk the kind of kiss Loki wants, so instead he gently taps Thor’s chin, then his lips.

“I’ll find us a path, then,” Loki whispers.

He smiles, genuine, fond, more joy in him than he could ever fight. It surprises him that he doesn’t want to fight. As much as he’s never trusted happiness, he trusts Thor, trusts in Thor’s love.