Loki would sooner watch the world burn than to save it. He would sooner give birth to the devouring flame himself. The fjords of Norway had been followed by crimson-draped lounges in the bowels of Napoli, where he had stained his teeth with foreign cigars and indulged his taste for expensive wine. The Camorra had become worse than the Hong Kong underground, even, for they planned to sate more than their greed for wealth. The Camorra believed that the kaiju could be subjugated and thus made into a tool of war.
Loki thinks of that broken world now — the attempts at genetic engineering, the breeding consoles, the filthy lucre. The fear. His own hands had been sticky with blood, human blood, more often than not. He'd never believed that the kaiju could be controlled.
With a violent inhalation of breath, Loki drops his hands, catching hold of Thor's wrists. Holding him still and terrifyingly close. Thor has seen into the void of Loki's mind, and yet still he rises past the horizon of Loki's shattered earth, filling all the fissures below with innocent light. He cannot understand. He cannot understand. And yet he does — as if judgment were meant for all others but brother and to-be-lover. Their whole lives have been a turning of pages, and finally they have reached the end.
Loki's fingertips dig so deeply into Thor's wrists that his nailbeds begin to ache. His grip loosens only then, but even that is not yet acquiescence; Loki twists his way free, quickly and nimbly. The bottle of liquor has fallen, bleeding its clear liquid fire onto the floor beneath them, but Loki pays it no mind, busying himself instead by pressing Thor against the bulwark, pressing himself into the suddenly excruciating distance between body and body. He had wanted this even mid-battle, when fighting and fucking became two interchangeable states of being. Next time, perhaps, they will join minds and do this, instead —
So Loki laves a kiss to the apple of Thor's throat, leaving a bruise to blossom in the wake of his mouth. His hands work at zipper and clasp, yet he will not draw away for long enough to draw the flight suit away.
"Convince me," says Loki, in a rough twist of sound; his eyes have fallen closed, needing only the sensory anchors of Thor's body and mind to guide him forth. He is convinced already, as Thor well knows.
no subject
Loki thinks of that broken world now — the attempts at genetic engineering, the breeding consoles, the filthy lucre. The fear. His own hands had been sticky with blood, human blood, more often than not. He'd never believed that the kaiju could be controlled.
With a violent inhalation of breath, Loki drops his hands, catching hold of Thor's wrists. Holding him still and terrifyingly close. Thor has seen into the void of Loki's mind, and yet still he rises past the horizon of Loki's shattered earth, filling all the fissures below with innocent light. He cannot understand. He cannot understand. And yet he does — as if judgment were meant for all others but brother and to-be-lover. Their whole lives have been a turning of pages, and finally they have reached the end.
Loki's fingertips dig so deeply into Thor's wrists that his nailbeds begin to ache. His grip loosens only then, but even that is not yet acquiescence; Loki twists his way free, quickly and nimbly. The bottle of liquor has fallen, bleeding its clear liquid fire onto the floor beneath them, but Loki pays it no mind, busying himself instead by pressing Thor against the bulwark, pressing himself into the suddenly excruciating distance between body and body. He had wanted this even mid-battle, when fighting and fucking became two interchangeable states of being. Next time, perhaps, they will join minds and do this, instead —
So Loki laves a kiss to the apple of Thor's throat, leaving a bruise to blossom in the wake of his mouth. His hands work at zipper and clasp, yet he will not draw away for long enough to draw the flight suit away.
"Convince me," says Loki, in a rough twist of sound; his eyes have fallen closed, needing only the sensory anchors of Thor's body and mind to guide him forth. He is convinced already, as Thor well knows.
As Thor well knows —
Once, it would have terrified him.