Yes. Yes. There are terrible desires between them, a lust for ruin which he can nearly taste: Loki's green eyes nearly black with desperation for him, and his mouth slack as his lungs struggle to command breath. He feels the struggle through all his body, the tension between pain and wanting, and how they merge into one: how Loki would be impaled upon him, speared and rent apart, and it catches Thor rising into him, working within him with greedy passion, his fingers biting into his brother's hips, thighs. Yes. Let him be wrought apart, his body and his spirit cleaved to Thor's, so that he cannot be put back together that Thor is not within him always. Forever his, forever marked, mind and body shared in intimacies even pilots do not dare. He feels Loki's body yield to his, to his cock thick and splitting him apart, an impassioned rutting, and Thor drags him into a kiss, opening and plundering his mouth as ruthlessly as he plunders all parts of him.

He drags Loki's head back by the hair. His tongue traces the white curve of his throat, his teeth relentlessly bruise his jaw, and Thor fucks up into him again, again, again, catching Loki's hip and guiding him into the rhythm of it. "Move upon me, brother." He makes Loki look into his eyes, as though possession is woven into every part of them which joins. He does not need the neural link to know this. "Show me how you desire me. Show me how you are mine."