Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11271369.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Marvel_Cinematic_Universe
  Relationship:
      Loki/Thor_(Marvel), thor/jane
  Character:
      Thor, Loki, Frigga, Odin, Tony_Stark, Sif, assorted_Avengers
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Ace/demi_spectrum_Loki, Jock_Thor, Teenagers, online
      chatting, brother_angst_and_feels, AU_human, AU_Teens, So_much_angst,
      false_identities, secrets_and_lies, so_much_pain, lots_and_lots_of_online
      chats, Slow_Burn, as_in, i_give_you, the_slowest_of_burns, lots_of
      teenage_angst, isolation_loneliness_all_of_that, Poor_Loki, this_is
      heavily_from_Loki's_POV, but_i'll_switch_when_i_need_to, bc_i_do_what_i
      want
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-22 Updated: 2018-03-11 Chapters: 14/? Words: 63063
****** One for sorrow ******
by thebookhunter
Summary
     One for sorrow,
     Two for joy,
     Three for a girl,
     Four for a boy,
     Five for silver,
     Six for gold,
     Seven for a secret,
     Never to be told.
     Eight for a wish,
     Nine for a kiss,
     Ten for a bird,
     You must not miss.
      
     Loki catches his brother sex chatting girls online behind Jane’s
     back. Thor is a real asshole about it. He’s a real asshole, period.
     He deserves a lesson. And Loki deserves revenge. He sets up a profile
     as a fictional girl to entrap his brother and ruin what he has with
     Jane. Or that was the plan. As it happens, things don’t go quite as
     expected.
Notes
     Soooo is that WIP number, hm, 5?
     I am SO SORRY about the lack of updates for the rest of stuff. I am
     working on it, but it's very hard going at the moment. Multiple
     reasons. I am especially trying with Kings I swear. Worldbuilding be
     TOUGH, but we'll get there!
     Now. This story seems alive and kicking, and the writing is simple (I
     will keep it so!), and I need to be doing something, so there. It's
     entirely plotted and drafted, and has been for some time. I hope the
     updates can come quite quickly.
     (*) Tagging Loki's sexuality vaguely bc it's supposed to be. He
     doesn't have a clue at this point. I don't mean any disrespect to
     either label or to anyone's sexuality by it.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
 
Thor gets home from school, drops his bag, drinks a glass of milk. Mum and dad
won’t be in till late. He climbs the stairs in threes, and opens the door to
find his pain in the ass little brother sitting at his desk, in front of the
computer.
“The fuck are you doing in my room?” snaps Thor.
“The fuck are you doing in your room?” says Loki, without even turning to look,
still scrolling. “Who the fuck is Amora_The_Enchantress? Because from that pic,
I can tell it’s definitely not Jane…”
Thor strides to Loki’s side; his eyes widen. The chat is open, and Amora’s tits
are filling the screen. Shit.
“None of your fucking business!” he roars, and brutally shoves Loki aside.
He turns the chat off as Loki rolls away on the swivel chair, rubbing his
shoulder where Thor’s fingers sunk in. He has that little-shitty expression of
his plastered on, not quite a grin, more like a glint in his eye that never
fails to make Thor’s blood boil. Oh, Loki has no idea how much trouble he’s in.
“I’m going to fucking kill you. Get the fuck out of my room!” Thor snarls.
“You said I could use your computer for the art project!” protests Loki,
fucking brat.
“Permission fucking rescinded. Fuck off!”
Loki is still rubbing his shoulder.
“You should be nicer to me,” he says.
“Says who.”
“I just wonder what Jane would make of this hobby of yours.”
Thor pales – he’s really going to murder him now.
“It’s not like I’m cheating!” he argues. “This is just…”
“And I am sure she would see your point, of course,” says Loki, a coy blink in
his eye.
“Are you fucking threatening me?” groans Thor.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” says Loki, hand on his heart, and that tone, oh, that
fucking tone…
“You little shit,” hisses Thor. “You have no idea, do you? No idea. Have you
never stopped to think why you’re not getting bashed in the head more often,
with that goddamn attitude? Did you think they’ve warmed up to you in school or
something? Who do you think protects you in that place, you stupid idiot? Who
do you think keeps them away? Would you like me to tell them that from now on
you’re on your own?”
Thor smirks when he sees the tension in Loki’s face, the furious squint. Bam,
bullseye, right where it fucking hurts. Oh, it’s so so sweet.
“You’re an asshole,” mutters his little brother.
Is that all he’s got? Feels too good, leaving Loki speechless. Thor can’t help
hammering it in.
“And you’re lucky we’re blood related, and that mum sort of likes you,
otherwise I’d be the fucking first in line to put you in your fucking place,”
whispers Thor, leaning in. “I’m very, very tired of your shit, you hear? Maybe
if you could get some pussy, or some dick, or whatever the fuck it is you’re
into, you’d have less time to be such a nosy little dickwad! Get your own
fucking life, and keep the fuck out of mine!”
“I don’t give a fuck about your pathetic sex chats!” hisses Loki, too angry and
humiliated to get much of a voice out.
“No, all you care about is being a jerk to anyone who tries to be nice to you,
right? You think your shit smells better than anyone else’s, and that’s why you
don’t have any friends! Go back to your fucking books and your fucking phone
and your dark little corner, where you can be happy making believe you’re alone
because nobody gets you, because you’re so cool and clever, when the fact is
nobody fucking likes you because you’re a mean, pathetic shit.”
Loki’s chin quivers, his lips thin. He looks eight years old.
“You’re an asshole,” he whispers thickly, and he finally stands up and stomps
out the door, with a slam.
“And stay out!” yells Thor.
He hears Loki stomping in his room right behind that wall for some time,
throwing things around.
Ah, fuck. This stupid war of theirs, they’ve been waging it for years, and it
never ends. Thor guesses he’s won this round. A crushing victory. Doesn’t feel
like winning. When does it ever.
Oh well, it’s done now. It’s not like he can take it back. Sigh. Why does he
have to do this every time?
 
 
                                 *     *     *
 
 
For about half an hour, Loki is a concentrated ball of ugh . Rage, heartbreak,
humiliation, fury, hatred, bloodlust. Thor has cut into everything he know
hurts the worst. Loki can hear his own stupid words, and still running through
his head are all the things he should have thrown back at Thor and couldn’t,
because he couldn’t, because his fucking body betrayed him. While Loki tried to
fight back, his body wanted to cower in a corner and cry, and it wouldn’t let
him talk, wouldn’t let him think. He is fucking pathetic, and Thor is a fucking
asshole, and nobody can hurt him as bad Thor can, nobody, and fuck you, fuck
you, fuck yooooouu!! (He screamed that out loud. Thor bangs the wall.)
Loki paces, huffs and puffs. He will tame this fucking thing — he will tame it.
Stick it right in, hold it back, bottle it down. He won’t shed a fucking tear.
He won’t.
Calm down. Calm down. Think.
Thor is so, so stupid. He has no idea how much trouble he’s in. He has pissed
you off real bad, and you’ll get your own back. You’re going to fucking
obliterate him. You’re going to rip him to shreds. You’re going to find the way
to do to him what he’s done to you. He’s going to fucking learn not to fucking
mess with you. He’s going to hurt. He’s going to bleed.
 
It has taken a while, but Loki finally feels calmer, cooler. He has crushed his
anger into a tiny, ultra-condensed, superheavy ball of a brand new, deadly
metal. It gives off a kind of sickly heat. It’s like ballast. It grounds him.
It helps him feel in control. Comes out as a kind of sour bitch face (“starving
supermodel pout”, Thor called it once), but he can keep it buried deep. Even if
it throbs and burns, and he never forgets it’s there, he can hide it under his
accustomed teenage ennui.
At dinner, nobody mentions how quiet Loki is, how glum. Nobody asks how he’s
feeling. He’s told them to leave him alone often enough, but still. He feels
mum casting looks his way as he chats with dad about their day and the leak in
the kitchen tap, but Loki stubbornly refuses to engage.
He wishes mum would ask. Not that he would tell her anything. But she doesn’t.
Later, lying in bed, Loki meditates. He entertains and discards several ideas.
It has got to be something special. A fuck-you-very-much from yours truly.
Something Loki can look back on with satisfaction. It’ll come to him, when
it's ready.
                                 ____________
 
Thor is driving them all to school the next morning in his third-hand red
pickup. Loki sits surly in the back seat, doesn’t even bitch about the heavy
metal shit music his brother enjoys first fucking thing in the morning.
They pull up by Jane’s house. She and Darcy hop in.
“Morning!” says Jane. Always so bubbly.
Thor kisses her slowly with his eyes closed, like it means the world. Signature
move. Makes them all melt. As for Loki, he wants to puke.
“Are you o-key, Lokey-dokey?” sing-songs Darcy, as she slumps by his side in
the back seat, always too close. No concept of personal space, this girl.
Thor drives, smug as fuck with the flush on Jane’s cheeks and the sparkles in
her eyes. He’s got her right where he wants her. God knows why he wants her. I
mean, Loki can see the attraction, sure, but he’d never think that Thor would.
Then again, Thor was only yesterday chatting to a girl online with tits bigger
than Jane’s head.
Thor and the two girls are chatting. Loki puts on his earbuds and takes himself
away from this place.
 
“Are you alright, Loki?” asks Jane as she unbuckles, after they've parked in
the school lot. She has this older sister vibe with him, condescending and
patient and sweet. Loki loathes it. He’s not fucking twelve. And it prevents
him from hating her as fully and freely as he would like.
“Got a headache,” grunts Loki.
“Need a pill or something?” says Thor, looking at him through the rearview
mirror.
Loki glares at him. Like you even care. He just grunts again. “‘M fine.”
They walk to the building. Loki walks a few of steps behind. Darcy is glued to
her phone. Thor and Jane walk hand in hand. He carries her bag, coos at her,
whispers in her ears, kisses her neck. He even gets the fucking door for her,
and he sends her on her way to Chem class with a long wet snog and kissing her
hand. And she giggles and flusters and toys with a lock of hair and she hovers
one foot above the ground, she’s so in love. Lucky lucky Jane, the envy of the
entire school; she has landed the perfect boyfriend.
...Too bad that only just yesterday, and god knows for how long, Mr. Perfect
was jerking off to strangers on the internet who send him nudes behind Jane’s
back. Sweet, earnest, honest Jane. She deserves to know who she’s dealing with,
what he gets up to when she’s not looking. She deserves to know the full, ugly
truth about Mr. Right.
And so, it hits him. Eureka. Loki knows how he’s going to teach his brother a
lesson.
He can’t possibly tell Jane outright what Thor gets up to online, of course.
For one, he’d like to survive this scheme. This needs to be an anonymous tip.
And two… She needs to see the actual words Thor was writing to that girl, to
fully fathom the extent of his filthy trespass, things Loki wishes he had never
had to read with his own two innocent eyes in the vicinity of even the mere
concept of a blood relative. Like, he needs brain bleach. Unfortunately, Loki
didn’t take a screenshot of the chat with that Amora girl, and he doubts that
he’d still find it there if he somehow gets access to Thor’s computer again. So
he’ll have to think.
 
He hears giggling behind his back in class. He sits with his head high, back
straight, and does not turn. Inside, he’s seething. Loki doesn’t try to draw
attention, he really doesn’t. He keeps to himself and doesn’t react, or
interact much at all for that matter. He just wants to be left alone to do his
own thing, but wherever he goes, there are always people waiting to make him
pay for… for existing, basically. For not minding if he fits in or not, for not
submitting to their petty, idiotic unwritten rules of behaviour. For not being
easy to pin down. For being quiet and clever. For breezing through classes
other people struggle with. For having all those girls swooning for a passing
look or a minute of his time (yes, he’s not blind), and not sparing any of them
either.
Thor says he’s stupid for making things hard for himself. Loki tells him to
fuck off, but the truth is, he doesn’t know how to act any different. He
doesn’t like to make things hard for himself — he doesn’t. He tries to blend
into the background. He’s just not very good at it. People are so fucking
stupid, and vulgar, and mediocre, and petty, and bland. Loki simply could not
manage to pass for one of the herd if he tried.
And yes, he thought things were getting better, that maturity was beginning to
reach some of the assholes that used to make his life in this place a living
hell, that they were developing interests beyond bullying, harassing, and
pestering. Youdumbass.It stings, like, a lot, to think he owes Thor for his
peace of mind. He hates it. He doesn’t want to owe Thor anything. He hates
Thor. Himself. This place. His fucking life. He wants to fucking burn it all
down, everything, raze it to the ground.
 
 
As he walks to the bus later that day, the idea presents itself, with the
elegant simplicity and obviousness of the most beautiful scientific theories,
something that seemed always plain for anyone to see, once they managed to
clear their minds and their sights: A trap.
And so, that afternoon, after school, he downloads the app Thor was using for
his sleazy sex chats, and creates a profile. Sex, female. Age, 18. So good so
far. Favourite music, favourite films, favourite books, hm. What should he put
in? He knows pretty well Thor’s tastes, but he can’t just copy those, can he?
Besides, who’s to say that’s what will draw Thor in? Look at Jane, they’re not
exactly two peas in the pod, are they? What does his brother like?
(…Loki, he used to like Loki. He used to say Loki was his favourite person in
the world. Then high school happened, and apparently super-cool captains of the
rugby team don’t have their kid brothers as their favourite anything. Actually,
they would rather pretend they don’t have brothers at all, especially when
they’re awkward and unpopular and hated by everyone. Right? Fuck you, Thor.)
Anyone can tell a lie. Not everyone can tell it well. And not many people can
tell one lie after another without ever being caught. The trick is for people
not to suspect. The moment they pin you down for a liar, they won’t even
believe you when you’re describing the rain falling on their heads. So lying
isn’t hard, but you have to weave in enough threads of truth to keep people
guessing. And so, to create Miss Honeytrap, Loki fills out her profile mostly
as himself. Because Thor does not suspect what Loki is up to, so he won’t be on
the lookout, and because it’s not like Thor knows what Loki likes or doesn’t
like these days, does he? Loki’s done some growing up since they were close
like that.
Pic. He needs to find the right pic. He browses Instagram trying to find one.
What is Thor’s type? His dick doesn’t seem too picky when it comes to hookups,
but for girlfriends, he seems to have a type; Sif was his first, then Lorelei,
then Jane. They’re all brunettes, not overly curvy, bit boyish even, beautiful
but not central-pages pin-up beautiful. Classy, aloof. Bit forbidding even.
Challenging. Loki looks for the perfect representation of all those qualities
in one single pic. It takes him hours.
Finally. There she is. That’s the one. Long legs, long black hair, feminine
enough, but not too much. Cute, beautiful, and in that pic, where she’s leaning
to fuss a big wolf of a dog, just that hint of cleavage, enticing but not too
slutty. Perfect.
Her alias. One_for_Sorrow5654. Makes Loki grin. He knows what he’s on about,
but Thor will never get it.
Click on CREATE to update your profile.
Next, let’s message Thor. Loki types in Thor’s alias, Storm99, and there he is,
first on top. He clicks on the thumbnail and the profile appears. Behold, the
asshole in full glory. Not bashful, is he? A poolside pic, just his swimming
trunks, a broad white smile, hair down, tanned and muscled and oh so dreamy .
Makes you want to retch. And the info on his profile is also true, as far as
Loki can tell. He shakes his head heavily. Favourite Books: The Goblet of Fire.
Favourite films: E.T., The Goonies, Braveheart.Such a derp.
Do you want to leave Storm99 a message?
Yeah, yes he does. But what.
‘Hey there stud’ — nah, too brash.
‘Hey there, you seem cool…’ — lame.
Dammit. Finding the right balance is hard. And Loki is probably overthinking
this, right?
‘Hey there. Nice pic, cool profile. I’d like to talk! Send me a mssg if you’re
interested’ — and a kissy emoji, and a winky one. There. Send.
Now we wait.
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Cut Thor a break. Do you have siblings? Did you live through
     adolescence with them? Are you doing it now? You know it's not easy,
     even when there's a lot of love involved. We can all be horrible to
     each other. We can be less than compassionate and sympathetic. We see
     things in black and white. We are cruel. But we grow older and mature
     and develop empathy and become nicer, better human beings, and things
     get better. Here's hoping anyway.
     Point of this is, Thor is not the villain in this story, even if he
     is to Loki right now. And I emphasise: There are no villains in this
     story. If you can't refrain from hating Thor, at least keep it out of
     my inbox bc I don't want to hear it.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Thor answers Sorrow's message. It's not going to be as easy as Loki
     predicted.
Chapter Notes
     guess who has this chapter done and no self-control whatsoever. I'm
     excited about it what can i say
     the 3rd one is finished too HNNNGG somebody stop me
 
 
The English Lit exam is still ages away, but Loki loves Beowulf, so he’s
working on it. His phone buzzes, but it takes him a second to react. Oh, right,
the dating app. He is not used to that sound yet.
He has a full inbox already, stuffed with a variety of openers from sleazes
wanting to get into Imaginary Girl’s pants. But the warning buzz is a new
development.  
Oh, look who it is…
 
Storm99: looking for me princess?
 
Princess. Loki smirks. You’re so fucking busted, jerkwad.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey stud
Storm99: lol
Storm99: what’s the dog’s name?
 
What dog? Huh? Oh, right, the profile photo of Miss Honeytrap. Hm. Think fast.
Buster? Toby? Snoopy?
Edgar Allan Poe is looking unimpressed from the much-thumbed cover of the book
on Loki’s bedside table.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: Raven
 
(Since it’s a black dog and all.)
 
Storm99: you like birds then?
 
The fuck is he on about?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: why u say that?
Storm99: one for sorrow
Storm99: isn’t that about magpies? magpies, ravens. birds
 
Uh.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah, they’re alright
Storm99: they’r very clever
 
Ok, Thor, what the fuck. Is that how you chat them up? How does he ever manage
to get any?
Let’s get down to business, shall we, we ain’t got all fucking day.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: that really u in the pic?
Storm99: lol yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: u’r very hot
 
…Which is kind of a weird thing to be typing and sending to one’s own brother,
to put it mildly. The things Loki has to do for justice.
 
Storm99: thank u
Storm99: u’r beautiful
 
That’s more like it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: want 2 get off?
Storm99: whoa
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m so horny
Storm99: no rush princess take it easy
Storm99: we could talk
Storm99: i’d like to know more about u
 
Loki huffs out loud. Jesus Christ, Thor, what the fuck are you, a girl?
Dammit. The asswipe wants to talk. Loki was hoping to get this done and dusted
in under half an hour. He really is not particularly crazy about this whole
notion of chatting his brother up online. Especially now that he’s actually
doing it.
Anyway. Keep your eyes on the prize. Patience. Hunting is a waiting game.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: what u want 2 know?
Storm99: what do u like 2 do?
One_for_Sorrow5654: suck cock
Storm99:
Storm99: maybe i’m not the man for u
 
SHIT. No no no no, shit don’t lose him. Think, Loki, think! Change tack.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry i’m new at this
One_for_Sorrow5654: kind of my first time
One_for_Sorrow5654: u seem like such a cool guy and u’r so handsome
One_for_Sorrow5654: i didn’t want to come through as a prude
Storm99:
Storm99: u don’t need to worry about that
Storm99: and thank u for the compliments
Storm99: u’r really pretty and u seem really cool 2
Storm99: how old are u really
 
Shit. That obvious?
Hm. He could stick to his guns. But a good way to establish trust is… hell,
being truthful. Right? Give a little, to get a little?
It’s okay, you can use this. It might be a bit rusty these days, but Thor has a
protective big bro streak miles wide. Let’s mine it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: 15
Storm99: right
Storm99: figures
 
Loki gives his phone the middle finger. Like Thor’s a grown ass man of the
world or something himself.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: and u?
Storm99: what it says on the tin. 18
 
Yeah, by all of one month and ten days. Don’t sound so smug, Thor.
 
Storm99: I think i’m too old for u princess sorry
 
Oh, no, no you don’t.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m only a couple of months short of 16
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i like older guys way better
Storm99: that so
One_for_Sorrow5654: boys my age are dicks
Storm99: lol i know i was one
Storm99: but u got 2 watch urself around older guys princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: older guys like u?
Storm99: Lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: u don’t seem like a creep
Storm99: am not
 
(Matter of opinion)
 
Storm99: but that’s what i’d say if i was
Storm99: right?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i guess i’ll have 2 get to know u better
Storm99:
Storm99: fine we can talk
 
Phew. Crisis averted.
 
Storm99: but u don’t have 2 try 2 impress me or anything
Storm99: u’r cool i like u, u don’t need 2 b anything u’r not
Storm99: what r u doing here anyway? why aren’t u out having fun with your
friends?
 
Oh my god, you patronising asshole. I said I was fifteen, not eight!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: this is fun
Storm99: isn’t there a kid ur age u like?
 
Lord, have mercy.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: told u. they’re dicks
Storm99: lol u may be right
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i’m shy
Storm99: u don’t seem shy to me
One_for_Sorrow5654: IRL
Storm99: i see
Storm99: so u don’t hang out much
One_for_Sorrow5654: try never
Storm99: so you come here
 
Hm. All this “too old for you” and “be careful around older guys” has given
Loki ideas about how to handle this. Thor has himself for a knight in shiny
armor, doesn’t he? Always has. Well then, come and rescue your damsel, free her
from the tower, show her the world.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: sex sort of scares me
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want it
One_for_Sorrow5654: but it’s kind of petrifying
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i know i need to be smart
One_for_Sorrow5654: so i thought i could get some experience here
One_for_Sorrow5654: interacting with real people
One_for_Sorrow5654: and that might make me less scared IRL
One_for_Sorrow5654: does that make any sense
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: u mean u’ve never done anything?
 
Whoops. Should Loki not have said any of this?
Damn, he’s frozen. He could make something up... but won’t Thor catch him
again? Lying with the truth is always a better strategy. Though that means… It
means owning the embarrassing truth Loki has been keeping to himself for
months.
 
Storm99: princess?
 
Make up your mind. Don’t be stupid. Who cares. Use it to your own advantage.
He’ll never know it’s you anyway.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: made out
One_for_Sorrow5654: twice
Storm99: yes?
One_for_Sorrow5654: at a couple of parties this year
One_for_Sorrow5654: wanted to know how it feels
 
Oh, and Loki has some news his brother will positively luuurve about Miss
Honeytrap. And he isn’t even making it up.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: once with a boy, once with a girl
 
He can imagine the glazed look on his brother’s eyes as he pictures the leggy
brunette of the profile pic on her first night out on the town, with her tongue
down another girl’s throat. Oh, the irony of it all.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: got a problem with that?
Storm99: nope
One_for_Sorrow5654: hot?
Storm99: ‘fraid so yeah. I’m that typical
Storm99: u offended?
 
Offended is not the right word, brother.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: lol ’s fine
Storm99: u bi then?
 
Uh.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: not sure
Storm99: u liked it?
 
That plunging, sickly feeling. Loki’s been praying that nobody finds out about
those two disastrous encounters for months. When Thor heard Loki had been to
those parties, he said it was time he got himself some. Loki had let him
believe that he had, and bullshitted his way through the teasing that followed.
He kept it cool and got away with it. But all along, he was shivering inside,
and what he could have used from Thor was some fucking reassurance. He was in
such a muddle, freaking out, desperate for a nice word, maybe even a hug. But
that required opening up and trusting Thor with his shame, and Loki knew better
than to share with his brother anything that really mattered, anything that
could hurt. Thor wouldn’t give a shit about it, and then he would take the piss
profusely. Thanks, but no thanks.
...Loki had felt safe telling Thor everything once. Can you even believe that?
Because Loki right now can’t.
Anyway, he can use this. What happened. Like actors do, and writers. Right?
Flesh out the character, fill in the details, make it more real. So Loki spills
(and he self-applauds the choice of words).
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i was sick
Storm99: were u drunk?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no
One_for_Sorrow5654: a little
One_for_Sorrow5654: but no, i think it was a panic attack
One_for_Sorrow5654:: girl was so handsy
One_for_Sorrow5654: i thought the boy would be worse but nope
Storm99: u were sick both times?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yup
One_for_Sorrow5654: see why i have a problem?
Storm99: don’t say that
Storm99: there’s nothing wrong with u
 
In his quiet room, Loki scoffs with derision.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: now u’ll tell me it’s totally normal and that it happens to
everyone
Storm99: more common than u think i’m sure
Storm99: if it was the first time
Storm99: and u didn’t know them too well
Storm99: or didn’t trust them enough
Storm99: and they were handsy
Storm99: and going 2 fast 4 u
Storm99: and u were a little drunk
Storm99: throwing up sounds like a perfectly normal reaction 2 me
 
Loki looks at his screen in puzzlement. That doesn’t sound like his stupid
emotional wrecking ball of a brother at all.
 
Storm99: were u attracted 2 them?
Storm99: or was it more about
Storm99: idk, ticking a box
One_for_Sorrow5654: not sure
Storm99: i think that’s ur answer there
One_for_Sorrow5654: what do u mean
Storm99: when u’r into someone usually u know it
Storm99: u may want to touch them or not, but u feel it
Storm99: and if u’r unsure what u feel, maybe u shouldn’t let them in ur pants
anyway
Storm99: did u know them much?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no
Storm99: there u go then
Storm99: didn’t know them well, didn’t trust them, were not into them
Storm99: so ur body said how about no
Storm99: it’s normal
 
Loki starts typing without much thought.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: with the boy i thought i was doing well
One_for_Sorrow5654: he took it slow
One_for_Sorrow5654: he was kissing my neck and then he
Storm99:
Storm99: yes?
 
Loki gulps, an odd, unpleasant churn in his underbelly, echo of what he felt
that night.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: he sucked my nipples. was nice
Storm99: he took ur shirt and bra off?
Storm99: u were ok with that?
 
Oops. Hm, forgot that. It would have been a bigger deal for a girl, right?
(…Hell, it was quite a big deal for Loki, too).
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i let him believe i was more ok with it than i was
One_for_Sorrow5654: didn’t tell him it was only my second time
Storm99: ur first time was with the girl?
 
Loki facepalms in silence. What a fucking mess.
Yeah, it had been. He wanted to try the mainstream way first, okay? Because
what if he isn’t…? Hell, he has no idea still what he is, or isn’t.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: girls are supposed to be nicer
One_for_Sorrow5654: sweeter
One_for_Sorrow5654: that’s what i thought anyway
One_for_Sorrow5654: not too sure now
Storm99: LOL i know
Storm99: i love girls but they’re not necessarily nice or sweet
One_for_Sorrow5654: u live and u learn
Storm99: ur very brave tho
One_for_Sorrow5654: am not
Storm99: u are
One_for_Sorrow5654: really not
One_for_Sorrow5654: or why would i react like that
Storm99: what’s it got to do with courage
One_for_sorrow5654: exactly
Storm99:
Storm99: how did it feel
Storm99: when u took ur top off and he u know
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i was very nervous
One_for_Sorrow5654: but then it started to
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: feel nice?
One_for_Sorrow5654: in a way yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: i mean i was still very nervous but
One_for_Sorrow5654: it got me really wet
 
(He’s barely stopped himself on the ‘r’ for ‘hard’)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: so i thought i was doing ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: but then he groped me u know
One_for_Sorrow5654: and then i just
One_for_Sorrow5654: i felt like i couldn’t breathe
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i was all
One_for_Sorrow5654: i had to run
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i was sick
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: it was pretty horrible
One_for_Sorrow5654: i was so embarrassed
Storm99: what did he do?
One_for_Sorrow5654: he followed me he asked me if i was ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: i said i was really drunk
One_for_Sorrow5654: he didn’t want to kiss me after that
One_for_Sorrow5654: understandable
One_for_Sorrow5654: so he lost interest
One_for_Sorrow5654: made an excuse said i’ll be right back he never did
One_for_Sorrow5654: i hope he didn’t tell anyone
One_for_Sorrow5654: he probably has right? i bet he told everyone
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: anyway i haven’t tried since
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk maybe it’s just not for me
 
Deep sigh. Okay, so it’s out. His deep, deep shame. Loki the iceberg, the
cooler-than-thou god of smooth, can’t handle some basic snogging and a hint of
heavy petting.
 
Storm99: doesn’t matter if they told people
Storm99: let people say whatever the fuck they want
Storm99: like i said, there’s nothing wrong with u
Storm99: nothing
Storm99: ur 15
Storm99: u’ll probs hate me for saying this but u’r very young
Storm99: it’s ok if u haven’t figured anything out yet
Storm99: and if u try to force it, it’s normal that ur body reacts
Storm99: honestly nothing u’ve told me screams freakshow to me
Storm99: u just need to try with someone u can trust
Storm99: and u’r attracted to
Storm99: and then take it easy don’t force it
Storm99: there’s no rush
Storm99: and hey u don’t have to do anything u don’t want 2 do
Storm99: u don’t have to do anything, period
Storm99: don’t feel u have 2
Storm99: don’t feel u have 2 WANT 2 even
Storm99: some people are just not into it and that’s fine
Storm99: u may think everybody’s at it
Storm99: or that everybody wants it
Storm99: but that’s just not true
Storm99: u’ll b ok i promise
Storm99: u’ll figure it out and u’ll be ok
Storm99: take it easy in the meantime yeah?
 
Loki holds the phone in his hand and stares at the screen in disbelief. He
lifts his eyes to the wall that separates his brother’s room from his own, then
back to the phone.
 
Storm99: princess u there?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m here
Storm99: u ok?
 
Is he? The symptoms scream ‘shellshock’ to him.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i need to go now
Storm99: ok
Storm99: talk again soon? i’d like that
 
Well, there is a fucking plan in place here, in case you had forgotten.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah me too
Storm99: night night princess
Storm99: don’t let the bedbugs bite xx
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
 
_______________
 
Okay, what the fuck. What the fuck. Loki keeps staring at his phone as if it
had sprouted fluorescent tentacles. He doesn’t know how he feels. He doesn’t
want to know. Because it’s not true that this whole pep-talky fuckery didn’t
sound like Thor. It did sound like Thor, but Thor years ago, when they still
told each other things. When Loki would go to him with dry snot crusted around
his nose because two kids had shoved him in the playground and made him fall
into a puddle of mud, and everyone had laughed. When they called him names
which Loki had to ask what they meant, but knew they were meant to hurt, and
did hurt. When the one friend he had in school turned on him because other kids
in class had been saying things about Loki and now he was a social outcast, so
his friend dumped him just like that, without a thought, like Loki was nothing,
not worth the effort. He would go to Thor crying, knowing his brother would hug
him and kiss him, and keep repeating gently that those kids were all stupid,
and that they were only jealous, and that one day soon the same things they
mocked him for would make Loki the coolest kid in school and everyone would
want to be like him, and be his friend.
“You think so?” little Loki would say.
“I know so,” Thor would say. And then hold him tight, tight, tighter.
“You’re choking me!” Loki would protest, trying to push him away, although he
had no chance.
And Thor would start tickling him or something. He’d never send him away until
he had made Loki laugh.
That was years ago. Ages ago. Loki thought Thor had changed. No, he hasn’t. He
hasn’t stopped being nice. He just stopped being nice to Loki. It feels…
Dammit, it hurts so bad.
 
He reads the chat all over again. Mission failed. The chat proves that Thor
chats to girls online, sure. It also proves that he doesn’t send them dick pics
at ‘hello’, that he actually likes to ‘get to know them’ first, even when a
girl basically comes at him with her pants down, and that he’s actually kind of
a sweetheart, armed with words of solace and wisdom to soothe the troubles of a
suffering, confused young soul. Hardly what Loki was hoping for.
He’ll have to do it again. He’ll have to do better.
 
 
In bed that night, Loki struggles to sleep. He starts thinking ways to lure his
brother sooner rather than later into the amateur smut phase of the
relationship, but soon he’s simply thinking of their chat. All the things he
told Thor today, things he never wanted to tell a living soul. And Thor didn’t
mock him, didn’t tease him. He didn’t call him a reject and a loser. He was
kind and patient and supportive. To a fucking stranger on the internet. Why
can’t he be like that with Loki.
And yet. There’s nothing wrong with you —he hears the line in Thor’s voice. And
as angry as Loki still is, those words? It’s like a weight has been lifted.
It’s all very fucking weird. And they haven’t even taken their virtual pants
off yet. Man, vengeance isn’t for the weak, let me tell you that.
 
 
 
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Loki tries to stick to the plan. But he's had such a shit day, poor
     boo.
 
 
During break next day, Loki watches Thor in the cafeteria being a heart-eyed
slobber with Jane, teasing her and smooching her and tickling her, the picture
of the perfect lover-boy. Two-faced bastard. What he’s doing to Jane is
appalling, but what he’s doing to those girls online? It’s not enough for him
to jerk off to their nudes, he also needs to sweet-talk them and act all
charming and sweet and gentlemanly, and make them feel… special. Respected.
Like they matter. Are there no fucking limits to his villainy? So Loki’s going
to unmask that asshole and make him suffer. For Jane, and for Sorrow, and all
the other Sorrows he may have strung along.
 
He’s distracted in class. Well, he gets bored, so his mind wanders. Survival
strategy. He's only been listening with half an ear to Jared's answer to Ms.
Woods’ question about modern and ancient myths, and his eyes are rolling so far
back, Loki is seeing the inside of his own skull. The vagueness, the lame,
fallacious analogies, the second-grade level of the reasoning. It’s not just
that he's stupid, stupid Loki can put up with (if one wants to live to
see college); what really, really gets to him, is how fucking pompous Jared is,
how self-important. He thinks he can just drop words like “oneiric” and
“primeval” and “cosmogony”, and everybody else will sit quietly, intimidated,
and applaud whatever half-assed stupid diatribe spews out of his mouth. It’s
offensive to anyone with half a brain that they are forced to sit in silence
through this steaming pile of babble.
“Do we agree?” prompts Ms. Woods, pointedly making no comment of her own.
Oh, Loki, don’t. You will only make more trouble for yourself. Sit this one
out. You’ll gain nothing from it.
But… Jared laughs at Loki with Brad and Jason and Cullen (god where do they get
those fucking names from), make up shit about him and make it run around the
school. He’s one of Loki’s main sources of pain in this place. Only today,
before Ms. Woods arrived, they were laughing at him and calling him names.
Apparently, Loki wearing black shirts with black jeans is hilarious to people
now, for some reason.
So you know what…? No, Ms. Woods, we don’t agree. Let me elaborate…
He raises his hand.
"Yes, Loki?"
“Well, actually, as Karl Kerényi argued in his theories on the Greek gods as
archetypes…”
He is eloquent and clear minded, his arguments rest on solid, well-informed
foundations, his diction is clear, his exposition confident and flowing, and if
he can say so himself, he has a very nice voice. It doesn’t hurt that he can
actually use “oneiric” in a sentence that actually makes sense. In summation,
he minces Jared. He tears him to pieces. 
Ms. Woods grins vaguely, delighted. The group of girls from uptown that always
stick together are all giggling to each other and batting their eyelashes at
Loki. And Jared and his gang of assholes are glaring daggers aimed at the back
of Loki’s neck. He can feel them there. For a moment, he’s riding so high on
victory, he forgets about the backlash to come.
 
 
When he sees a couple of groups of people hanging around his locker later that
day, making time and throwing him looks and sniggering, he doesn’t need telling
what this is about. He looks at his locker warily, but there’s no escaping it.
He needs the stuff inside. Shit.
He puts on a blank mask, and tries to seem unbothered. Yes, it’s been forced
open, the lock is fucked. He tries to prepare for whatever he will find in
there.
A flash of white, he flinches. What the fuck…? A pad. Shit, it’s a used pad.
Snickers and whistles burst from the people around. Loki clenches his jaw,
tries to calm his breathing.
There is no way he’ll get at his things without touching it. The nearest bin is
miles away. Shit. SHIT! 
Don’t fucking cry, you idiot, don’t you dare. You must not show one fucking
blink of emotion, of any kind. No reaction. With studied nonchalance, he picks
up the pad, pinching one clean corner. He makes it dainty, he makes it
theatrical, he makes it cute. He gathers his books single-handed and walks
through the small crowd, ignoring their words and their sounds and their
taunting. He walks and walks and walks, it feels like a mile, until the next
trash can. He’s tried to be as smooth as a cat on a fence through the entire
ordeal, head high, bored expression, relaxed gait, no eye contact.
He manages not to cry on the bus on the way home, but only just.
 
 
Thor gets home some time after Loki. From his room, he hears him clanking and
banging in the kitchen, stomping up the stairs, then pissing loudly (he always
leaves the door open when mum’s not in, the fucking gorilla) and leave without
flushing (such a caveman oh my god). He mumbles “hey” as he walks past Loki’s
door. Then he gets into his room, and a few seconds later, Loki’s phone
vibrates.
 
Storm99: hey princess
 
Loki reads the message with the taste of cold bile in his mouth.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey
Storm99: nice to see u
Storm99: had a good day?
 
He scoffs.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: the usual
Storm99: thought about u today
 
Loki scoffs some more. The fucking nerve. Like there was any time left for Thor
to remember about a silly little girl he’s just met on the internet, in between
being the center of the known universe in the cafeteria with his stupid
teammates, making an offensive amount of noise and graciously taking the
worship of every passer-by, and groping Jane against the wall behind the
library. Why does he have to say these things? Why does he have to pretend that
Sorrow matters?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: really
Storm99: yeah
Storm99: i really enjoyed talking 2 u
 
Loki huffs like an angry bull. Honestly, Thor, have you no fucking shame?
Ok, dude, get over yourself. Righteous indignation will get you nowhere. You’re
supposed to fucking sweet-talk him into getting down and dirty enough with
Sorrow to horrify Jane. You have to put on your Miss Honeytrap hat or this
won’t work.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i thought about u 2
Storm99: (#^_^#) <3
 
(Loki rolls his eyes at the silly emojis. -Don’t get sidetracked.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: made me so wet
Storm99: lol
Storm99: u don’t fuck about
One_for_Sorrow5654: no
One_for_Sorrow5654: u’r so hot and so sweet
One_for_Sorrow5654: makes me so horny thinking of u
 
Loki wrinkles his nose writing these things, just in case some spiritual
presence in the room with him might think he’s enjoying this.
 
Storm99: princess
Storm99: u don’t have to talk like that
Storm99: u don’t have to say these things
Storm99: u don’t have to impress me remember
Storm99: take it easy
 
Condescending asshole.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: how do u want me 2 talk
Storm99: how about be yourself?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: not sure how 2 do that
One_for_Sorrow5654: not sure u would like it
 
(Well done, Sorrow, self-loathing is such a turn-on.)
 
Storm99: i’m sure i will
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: how was your day?
One_for_Sorrow5654: u don’t want to hear about my day
Storm99: why would i ask if i didn’t?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: why
Storm99: i want 2 get 2 know u better
One_for_Sorrow5654: why
Storm99: because i like u
One_for_Sorrow5654: u know nothing about me
Storm99: but i’d like 2
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: u in a bad mood princess?
  
Loki huffs, he rubs his eyes hard. Bad mood? He’s fucking miserable. He can’t
put it behind him, can't get over himself. Hard to be all chatty and sexy and
bubbly like that, goddammit.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: shit day
Storm99: want 2 tell me about it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: not really
Storm99: ok not going 2 push u
Storm99: but i’m listening if u need to talk
 
Loki’s gritting his teeth, toying with his nails until he breaks one.
He tells himself he needs to say something.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: these assholes at school
One_for_Sorrow5654: left a used pad in my locker
Storm99: oh shit princess that’s awful
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m used to it
Storm99: i’m sorry about that
Storm99: people can b so fucking mean and horrible
Storm99: why do they do this shit? what do they get from it? i don’t get it
Storm99: how are u feeling now? U very upset about it?
 
When was the last time Thor asked him that? And when was the last time Loki
answered to such a question sincerely?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 One_for_Sorrow5654: idk
 
Loki sighs out loud in his empty room. And he realises that he doesn’t feel so
tight now, so close to tears and screams of rage.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i'm a bit better now
Storm99: keeping these things 2 urself can't feel good 4 u
Storm99: i'm happy 2 listen honestly
Storm99: if it helps
 
Loki sits back against the headboard of his bed. He scoffs at the
ridiculousness of the situation. He's had to create himself a fictional girl
persona to manage to find a friendly ear for his woes. The levels of pathetic
and inept he is achieving are beyond the fucking charts. He's totally leaving
his useless brain to science.
 
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: thank u
Storm99: ^_^ 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: u know, i may have asked for it
Storm99: princess don’t say that
Storm99: what could u have possibly done 2 deserve it
One_for_Sorrow5654: didn’t say i deserved it
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i know these guys i know how they are
One_for_Sorrow5654: i had a choice between letting something go or making it
escalate
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i pushed them
One_for_Sorrow5654: even though i knew there would b consequences bc there
always are
One_for_Sorrow5654: so it’s my fault i should know better
Storm99: what did u do
One_for_Sorrow5654: publicly humiliated their intelligences, such as they are,
in class
One_for_Sorrow5654: they were taking the piss out of me so i pulverised them
Storm99: why were they taking the piss?
One_for_Sorrow5654: they just don’t like me much
Storm99: why
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m a smart-ass
Storm99: lol
Storm99: how does that make any of this ur fault?
Storm99: trick question: it doesn’t
One_for_Sorrow5654: u mean rhetorical question
Storm99: XD smart-ass
One_for_Sorrow5654: see?
Storm99: LOL
Storm99: still
Storm99: so u’r clever, so what
Storm99: believe me having a good brain is totally an asset
Storm99: the moment u graduate from high school anyway
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: ok that was funny
One_for_Sorrow5654: in a tragic (for me) sort of way
Storm99: u’r funny
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Loki blinks quickly. He just. Thor doesn’t say nice things to him anymore.
 
Storm99: personally i love brains in people
One_for_Sorrow5654: in girls too?
Storm99: in girls specially
One_for_Sorrow5654: well how lucky for me
Storm99: did u tell anyone at school about what those assholes did?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no point
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s not going to stop them
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’d rather just ignore them
One_for_Sorrow5654: and count the days until i can get the hell out of this
shithole town
Storm99: oh princess
Storm99: it must be so hard. sorry u have to go through this
Storm99: i wish i could help you
 
Loki stares at the words on the screen in baffled silence.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: u are
One_for_Sorrow5654: helping
Storm99: i’m glad
Storm99: anything else i can do?
 
Ooooh, we’re getting somewhere! Fucking finally! But let’s be subtle about it,
he reacts with a forceful retreat when you’re too direct.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish u were here now
Storm99: i wish that 2
One_for_Sorrow5654: if u were here
One_for_Sorrow5654: what would u do
Storm99: i’d give you a big hug
One_for_Sorrow5654: what else
Storm99:
Storm99: we could watch a film
Storm99: i got a few that always make me feel better
Storm99: do u like movies?
 
Loki holds back a roar. Fucking hell!
Deep fucking breaths. Patience. Focus.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: tell me one
Storm99: a film u can always watch. A film you always go to to feel better
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Loki rubs his temples. He can't fucking believe this.
Keep him talking.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: star wars. grease. the goonies.
Storm99: omg i love goonies
 
(I know, doofus. You even put it in your goddamn profile.)
 
Storm99: u’r so cool
One_for_Sorrow5654: am i
One_for_Sorrow5654: r u going 2 give me the old “girls don’t usually like this
kind of film” shite
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc that’s just not true
Storm99: lol
Storm99: no no i know it’s not true
Storm99: i personally know several girls who love it besides u
Storm99: just glad u like it 2
 
Excellent. Great. Keep him chatting...
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: what’s ur favourite thing about it
Storm99: when i was little i loved the swearing
Storm99: and the cheerleader
One_for_Sorrow5654: Andy
Storm99: yes Andy
Storm99: when she kisses mickey in the cave thinking it's the other guy
One_for_Sorrow5654: the braces
Storm99: lol yeah
Storm99: i guess i identified with mickey
One_for_Sorrow5654: me too
One_for_Sorrow5654: tho i’ve been told i’m more like a mix of Mouth and Data
Storm99: lol how lovely
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah been called worse
Storm99: lol u’r funny
 
Again. The warmth, the flutter inside.
Shit, Loki, you're pathetic. Drinking this shit up, even though it's not even
about you.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: so that’s when u were little
One_for_Sorrow5654: what about now
Storm99: well i love everything but what always gets me
Storm99: is mickey and his brother
 
Hm? Go on?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: Bran
Storm99: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: what about them
Storm99: they’re always fighting and bickering and being assholes 2 each other
and getting on each other’s tits
Storm99: but they love each other so much
Storm99:
Storm99: makes me think of me and my kid bro
 
Ok.
Ok. What?
What. The fuck just. Did Thor just sort of say that. That he loves him.
When did Thor last…? Has Thor ever…? Shit, Loki does not remember Thor ever
saying the words Love relating to little old him. I mean, it may have been
implied, but...
...He doesn’t remember the last time Thor hugged him, or spoke more than a few
sentences to him, or treated him as if Loki was not a thing he’d found stuck in
his shoe.
Not that Loki remembers the last time he was civilised with Thor. This is a
contest to see who’s the biggest asshole, so Loki practices pre-emptive
assholery as a matter of course, because the best defence is a good attack and
all that.
...The two brothers. They totally get to Loki too. He gets a stupid fucking
lump in his throat right now, thinking of that scene when Mickey is miserable
and his big bro offers him a hug, and they embrace passionately, almost like
lovers, Bran’s big hands in Mickey’s hair, hugging tightly, so much love. Big
bro is a jock too, forever lifting weights and shit, like a certain someone
Loki knows. Little Mickey clings onto him with all his weight and all his
might, a stumpy handful of need, throwing himself at his big brother in full
faith that he’ll find comfort and support in his arms, in spite of all the
things they’ve called each other just a few minutes ago.
And then big bro orders Mickey to get his ass back in the house, because Mickey
is a sickly boy too. Fuck, Loki’s choking now.
 
Storm99: princess?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: same
Storm99: ?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have an older sis
One_for_Sorrow5654: we used to be very close
Storm99: what happened?
 
Good question.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: nothing
One_for_Sorrow5654: high school happened
Storm99: right
 
What did happen? Between Thor and him? Why the fuck are they always fighting?
Why do they never talk or spend time together anymore? Why does Thor hate him?
Or makes it seem like he does?
…Well, fuck. Loki, you derp, this is like… like reading Thor’s diary, if he
kept one. Right? You can just… fucking ask!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: what happened with ur little bro?
Storm99: idk
Storm99: he’s shut himself up in his own world more and more
Storm99: he’s always in a bad mood
Storm99: i don’t get him
Storm99: i used to but now
Storm99: i have no idea what he’s thinking ever
Storm99: seems like i can’t do anything right with him
Storm99: it’s like he hates me
Storm99: can’t remember last time we really talked
Storm99: or had fun together
Storm99: we used to be best friends
Storm99: i miss him
 
The growing indignation that was building up inside Loki has suddenly dissolved
with those three words. His throat knots.
He reads that last line over and over. He types now with shaky hands.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i miss my sis too
 
His eyes are welling.
 
Storm99: what happened? in high school
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: hell if i know
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s like she wanted 2 leave me behind
One_for_Sorrow5654: like i embarrassed her or something
Storm99: i’m sure that’s not true
One_for_Sorrow5654: then why is she like this
One_for_Sorrow5654: she treats me like a leper
One_for_Sorrow5654: at school she ignores me
One_for_Sorrow5654: like she wants people 2 forget we’re related or something
 
He sniffs.
 
Storm99:
Storm99: have u tried telling her any of this?
One_for_Sorrow5654: she wouldn’t listen
One_for_Sorrow5654: she’d laugh at me
Storm99: i’m sure she wouldn’t
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i’m sure she would
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish i knew what the hell did i do 2 make her hate me
Storm99:
Storm99: don’t say that
Storm99: she loves u i’m sure
Storm99: no matter what
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: doesn’t feel like it
Storm99: that’s sad
 
Well, Thor sure doesn't look sad these days.
 
Storm99:
Storm99: i’m sure it’s got nothing 2 do with u
One_for_Sorrow5654: no? what else is there?
Storm99: maybe she thinks u’r old enough 2 fend 4 urself
Storm99: that u two can’t always b glued at the hip
Storm99: maybe she’s fed up of always being made to be responsible 4 someone
else
Storm99: and she just wants to be selfish for a while and think of herself
first
Storm99: maybe she wanted 2 not be anybody’s big sis for a while
Storm99: sometimes it can be hard
 
Loki's eyes are glued to the screen.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: is that what happened to u with ur bro
Storm99: something like that i guess
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: wanna tell me about it?
Storm99:
Storm99:
 
(Come on come on come on...)
 
Storm99: he used 2 be a sick kid
Storm99: he had leukaemia when he was little
Storm99: he got over it he’s ok now
Storm99: but for years everybody was
Storm99:
Storm99: they were all over him all the time
Storm99: fawning over him coddling him
Storm99: i mean he had to be in hospital for months and months and he couldn't
get out of the room and the treatment was tough and he had a really bad time
Storm99: he was doing so so poorly
Storm99: like, he could have died
Storm99: but years after that people still
Storm99: they wrapped him in cottonwool and spoiled him rotten
Storm99: let him get away with so much
Storm99: and they expected me to be the grown up
Storm99: to be responsible and look after him and all
Storm99: i was 10
Storm99:
Storm99: am i boring you
 
Loki hasn’t blinked in a while. It’s likely that he hasn’t drawn breath.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: No of course not go on
One_for_Sorrow5654: u were saying about being made to be responsible for him
Storm99: yeah
Storm99: and like they expected me to be perfect too don’t make any trouble
never put a foot wrong
Storm99: “help your mom and dad they’r having such a hard time with ur little
brother don’t make it harder”
Storm99: they cut me no slack at all
Storm99: i think my parents still see him as a hothouse flower
Storm99: u know like he was still a little boy who can't control his temper or
what he says
Storm99: he's ur age
Storm99: it's always be patient with your brother be patient
Storm99: i just
Storm99: don’t get me wrong i love him to pieces
Storm99: when he was sick
Storm99:
Storm99: shit i used to think if he goes i’m going right behind him i won’t
manage
Storm99: but it’s like he’s always resented me
Storm99: for all the things i could do and he couldn’t, or wasn't allowed to
do, bc he was sick
Storm99: all those months when he couldn’t get out of the house and all the
months it took for him to recover
Storm99: and i get it i really do, it must have been so hard
Storm99: he was little he didn’t understand
Storm99: why did he have to be sick when all the other kids weren’t why
couldn’t he do what I did
Storm99: it was so unfair right, i get it
Storm99: but to this day when i am better at something it’s like
Storm99: like it’s personal, something i am doing TO him
Storm99: to spite him or something to rub his nose in it
Storm99: and our parents still expect me to look after him in school
Storm99: and a lot of the time i wouldn’t mind
Storm99: except it’s like he hates it and hates me for it
Storm99: not a word of thanks no appreciation
Storm99: and he takes my protection but won’t help himself
Storm99: he doesn't try to make friends he makes trouble for himself
Storm99: i guess he’s jealous of me
Storm99: bc i’m kinda popular and he’s not
Storm99: i don’t get why
Storm99: i think he could be popular if he wanted
Storm99: hell he could have all the girls in school with a flick of his fingers
Storm99: he’s super brainy and sophisticated and he’s very good looking and all
Storm99: and yeah he’s a smarty-pants and a know-it-all but he’s also very
funny
 
(Loki’s eyes like plates.)
 
Storm99: anyway he could be king in that place but he drives everyone away
Storm99: it’s like he doesn’t want people to like him
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: princess?
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe he’s found out that people he thought were his
friends were making fun of him behind his back
One_for_Sorrow5654: or he's been pranked by people who made him believe they
liked him
One_for_Sorrow5654: or it turns out they just used him to get closer to you
One_for_Sorrow5654: and now he doesn’t trust anyone
One_for_Sorrow5654: and maybe he just feels nobody wants to know him really
One_for_Sorrow5654: because whenever he opens up a bit he gets mocked
One_for_Sorrow5654: and called a geek or a smart-ass or that he's up his own
ass or
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe he feels he has nothing in common with anyone his own
age
One_for_Sorrow5654: and older people just see him as a pest trying too hard who
should learn his place
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe boys don’t like to be around him bc
 
Braking screech. Hold your fucking horses, idiot, danger area. Moving on.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe he’s so self-conscious
One_for_Sorrow5654: any social interaction for him is like
One_for_Sorrow5654: like being naked on a fucking stage with only a towel to
cover himself
One_for_Sorrow5654: and people watching and criticising every word and every
move
One_for_Sorrow5654: ready to pelt him with rotten eggs
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe he just wants to be left alone
One_for_Sorrow5654: and people just don’t let him
One_for_Sorrow5654: they won’t let him be and
 
Loki’s can’t see the screen or the keys anymore. He’s crying.
 
Storm99:
Storm99: is that how u feel princess
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: well i don’t know how 2 help him
Storm99: honestly what can i do
Storm99: he doesn’t talk to me except to snarl at me and
Storm99: i mean i’m no saint
Storm99: but even when i try to be nicer it doesn’t really change anything
Storm99: and he’s always kept to himself and he’s always been hard to figure
out but now
Storm99: now it’s like
Storm99: like i don’t even know who he is anymore
Storm99: makes me so sad
Storm99: but what can i do?
Storm99: i thought if i left him to it he’d get out there and make friends
Storm99: he’s always hanging around mine
Storm99: and it’s not like it really bothers me but
Storm99: idk
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: shit am i not allowed to have one thing of my own? do i have to share
that with him too?
Storm99: and he pisses me off so much
Storm99: when i feel he resents me
Storm99: that he resents that i’m doing well
Storm99: like he wants to see me suffer 2
Storm99: idk does he want me to be miserable so that we can b miserable
together?
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: princess u there?
Storm99: this got 2 heavy right? sorry
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s ok
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i need 2 go now bye
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
 
 
 
 
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     "For a moment, he thinks of calling it off. Create a new profile,
     choose the pic of a girl with humongous tits, and invent a whole new
     identity his brother won’t be so scrupulous with.
     But he knows how to play this. He can play this. And he’s come this
     far. It’s almost a matter of pride at this point. He wants to get his
     way."
      
     Loki pushes things, and this mess reaches new levels of fucked up.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
“Morning,” says Thor when he gets to the kitchen for breakfast. Loki looks up
from his cereal with a suspicious frown.
“Okay, kiddo?” says Thor when he catches him staring.
Loki blinks, baffled. He would usually get a “what the fuck are you looking
at.” This is obviously the twilight zone.
“You okay?” asks Thor again as they get in the car.
“Got a headache,” mumbles Loki. “Didn’t sleep well.”
And Thor actually goes andturns the music off. Loki sits there quietly for two
minutes, reeling first, then trying to bring himself to… Hell, it seems his
gratitude-expressing mechanism is rusty as fuck when it comes to his brother,
and every second that passes, he feels more and more stupid.
“Thanks,” he says at last, just a mutter.
“S’okay,” mutters his brother in reply. But he’s not finished yet: “I think
Jane carries painkillers. I can ask when we pick her up.”
Loki turns to look at Thor this time. This has been their most civilised
interaction in months.
“I’m alright,” he says. “I already took something. Uh, thanks anyway.”
“No problem.”
They’re both very quiet on the way to school, even after the girls get in. They
fill the air talking about this science fair; Jane is trying to enlist Darcy to
come with her, or something.
Meanwhile, Thor is miles away. So is Loki. He hasn’t slept a wink, thinking
about last night’s chat, feeling angry at turns, ashamed and guilty at others,
so fucking sad over it all. He was up at dawn re-reading the chat, things Thor
had said like a slap in his face, shaking him, others like a punch in the gut,
hitting him deep, robbing him of air.
He had not thought . He had never tried to see.
As a child, pretty much as far back as he could remember, leukemia had been
Loki’s reality. His memories from before he was ill are very unclear and vague,
and he doesn’t trust them. He remembers Thor, though. Running after Thor.
Asking where Thor was. He remembers Thor being asked to his friends’ places for
playdates and birthday parties all the time, and he remembers being told he was
too little to go with him. He remembers being called a pest and a pain in the
ass. He remembers being told he was too slow, too short, too annoying. He
remembers wanting to be like Thor. He remembers feeling invisible. He remembers
always being pushed to one side, hidden in the shadows.
He knows he was also invited to his own classmates’ birthday parties (at that
time, it’s politics, isn’t it? Parents wanting to court other parents; what the
kids want, who they want or not at their party, doesn’t really count), he knows
he had buddies of his own; he has seen photos. He doesn’t really remember any
of that.
He remembers Thor — everything is always about Thor. Whether Thor was there or
he wasn’t. He trusted Thor, he loved Thor, he wanted to be with Thor. And he
wanted Thor all to himself. He didn’t want anyone else, so why did Thor want
other people? Why wasn’t Loki enough?
And then, he remembers the hospital. He remembers when for a long while, only
his mum was allowed to visit, wearing a mask. The rest were doctors and nurses
Loki never really felt at ease with. He didn’t even know their faces. He had to
tell them apart by their eyes or their voice. And he was never all that sure he
got it right; names were hard.
He remembers the exhaustion, the boredom, the aches and pains, the sickliness,
and the needles. At best, that whole time in his life is like one long,
colourless, mind-numbing, Sunday afternoon. At worst…
Then they sent him home. He remembers the beanies and the kerchiefs he was
forever getting as presents to cover his bald head. Trying to be nice when he
got them, even when Auntie Ida gave him one with fucking Mickey Mouse and
another one with rubber duckies, and expected him to try them on and then smile
for the pictures. And then he was shown the fucking pictures, and it’s the
first time he had seen himself since before he was ill. From then on, he would
try to hide whenever he got visitors. He sometimes cried when they made him say
hello anyhow. He remembers his parents making excuses for him. He remembers
getting the talk afterwards. Mum asking him what was the problem. He remembers
not wanting to tell. Couldn’t she just figure it out for herself? Just… fucking
look at him! He didn’t have any fucking eyebrows!
He remembers being surrounded with new toys, and running to his mum to show her
the really, really cool remote control pterosaur that could actually fly, and
finding her in a corner crying with her sister Frieda soothing her and telling
her something like “these are only preliminary results; statistically, the
chance of relapse…” And then mum spotted him and wiped off her tears and tried
to change her face, and a few days later Loki was back in hospital.
And he didn’t want to make his mum sad, he really didn’t. He had tried to get
better, he had tried to be good, he had tried to be strong and brave as they
had told him, but he was so tired all the time, he just hadn’t been strong
enough. Why couldn’t he be strong enough. He was trying so hard. It wasn’t his
fault! —But deep inside he knew that it was his fault; he had not been good
enough, he had not tried hard enough; so many times he didn’t finish his food,
even though he was told he needed to try and make himself eat to get stronger,
and sometimes when they gave him the orange medicine he didn’t want it and made
a big fuss about it, and everyone was upset, and when they tucked him in at
night he would stay awake reading even though he knew he needed to rest, but
he’d been half dozing all day, bored to death, even when mum had told him he’d
better not sleep in the afternoon and try the gentle exercises he’d been
recommended, but he just couldn’t be bothered, they made him feel stupid, and
then at night he wasn’t sleepy, and… And now mum was crying again and talking
to him like he was a baby, and hugging him all the time, and his dad looked so
grave and serious, and Thor…
Yeah, he remembers Thor sulking in the corner. He remembers Thor being naughty,
being contrary, being grumpy. He remembers Thor getting in a huff and being
told off and sent up to his room without his supper. He remembers dad telling
Thor, “I’m disappointed in you, son.”
He also remembers Thor sitting in a corner and looking sour when relatives came
to visit. Some would bring a little present for Thor too, but many didn’t. And
Loki of course would get the coolest, biggest toys. And he remembers the sick
satisfaction that gave him. But he also remembers how it felt when Thor ran out
of the house as soon as he could to be with his friends. Loki would see them on
their bicycles whooshing down the street. He’d watch them on the lawn playing
ball. He’d watch them hanging out in the sun from his bedroom. Loki had not
left the house in months. To him, it felt like years.
And most poignant of all, he remembers hearing mum call Thor in, and then Thor
moaning “oh mum, do I have to?”, and then there’d be stern, hushed words, and
then footsteps up the stairs, and Thor would offer to play with him on the game
console. And he remembers being grumpy about it, but not proud. Yes, he wanted
to play with Thor, even when he knew Thor didn’t want to. He was little. He
thought a win was a win, and getting Thor to play with him was exactly that. He
got his own way, he won. It makes him fucking sick with anger when he thinks
about it now. He wishes he had kicked him out of the room screaming. (...No, he
doesn’t.)
He remembers the long summers at Auntie Ida’s farm, away from Thor’s friends,
away from any other kids, just Thor and him and nobody else, making up their
own games, going on adventures in the fields, getting stung by nettles, rolling
in the mud, laughing, skinny dipping in the stream, staying out until the
fireflies came out, and whispering and muttering together in their twin beds,
side by side, until silly late. They still bickered and pranked each other, but
there was no adult to make them kiss and make up (Auntie Ida really wasn’t up
to the task), so they would sort it out between themselves. Turns out, they
fought a lot less, they negotiated better, they just… got along so well. It was
the best time in Loki’s life.
They hadn’t been to the farm since Auntie Ida died, the year before Thor went
to high school. Not that Thor would want to be cooped up there with Loki all
summer long. There were no girls, right? God, Loki knew it was pretty fucking
ridiculous to hate his brother’s girlfriends so much, but… Fucking hell, he
wasn’t good at sharing.
It doesn’t matter anymore. Those were the good times, but they’ll never return.
Being realistic, all that’s left between Thor and him is a few more months of
cold war at best, open war at worst, and then they’ll go their separate ways.
Thor will leave for college, then Loki, and then they’ll only see each other
for Christmas or funerals or whatever. And that’s it. That’s all.
One of those summers on the farm, if someone had told them they would come to
this, they would never have believed it. At the farm, they had felt like two
halves of the same thing on those nights, almost like the last two humans left
on earth, like the world was their own and nothing could ever come between
them. Or that’s how Loki felt. Perhaps Thor didn’t feel the same way. He was
always eager to be with other people, to make friends, to meet girls. Perhaps
Loki had never been enough anyway. Perhaps Thor was just making the best of
what he got; he’s good at that, isn't he? (Great. Just when Loki thought he
couldn’t feel lonelier and more miserable.)
 
He crosses paths with Thor twice in the hallway. Thor nods the first time,
winks at him the second. Loki returns the nod, and hates how fucking nice it
feels.
In the cafeteria at lunchtime, Thor beckons him. Wary, Loki goes.
“Sit down, smurf.”
“Uh?”
“Come on.” Thor even moves his butt on the bench to make room for him.
“You sure I’m not disturbing you?” says Loki tightly, snarky.
Thor smiles that serene, untroubled Buddha smile of his. Loki doesn’t get it
very often anymore.
“‘Course not, dickwad. Sit down.”
It takes Loki a minute to stand down from his permanent battle stance, his
first impulse of biting and spitting, his mistrust whenever somebody is nice to
him in this place. Finally, he puts his tray down, then his butt, and there’s a
crack in Thor’s smarmy casualness, and Loki thinks he sees some real warmth
coming through. And fuck, Loki has no idea what to do with that, except wanting
to roll in it. Man, he’s so fucking starved, isn’t he? It’s pathetic.
The group around them doesn’t make a big fuss. Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun,
they’re from the neighbourhood, they’ve known the brothers their whole lives.
Jane and Darcy, and her boy Ian, are new acquisitions. And Thor is the center
of it all, of course. Loki has wondered many times if Sif and the other three
would even be friends were it not for Thor binding them together. (The football
team doesn’t count. Rogers, Wilson, Barnes, and the rest, they don’t really mix
with Thor’s school friends. Or Stark, Thor’s brainiac occasional study buddy.
Because Thor is a brainiac too, he just doesn’t let on.)
When Jane arrives, Thor makes her sit on his lap, to a couple of whoops and
whistles from the rest of the table. Not from Sif. Sif said “hey” when Jane
arrived and now she’s checking her phone, pointedly not looking at the
lovebirds smooching. They had a thing, Sif and Thor, for a whole summer. Then
Thor, the slut that he is, said he needed “some space” (sixteen-year-old Thor’s
literal words, shitting you not; he told Loki himself) and that was that. He
went on his merry slutty way to harvest hearts and then break them. Sif… Not so
much.
“You’re not gonna finish this?” asks Thor, when Loki is putting down his
cutlery. He’s eaten about half his lunch.
“Not hungry,” says Loki.
“Come on, eat up. You’re growing,” Thor replies.
“Leave him alone, mum,” says Fandral.
“Hey, he’s very skinny,” says Thor.
“It’s a good look on him,” says Fandral, grinning wickedly. Forever flirting in
all directions, because the guy just doesn’t give a fuck.
“Hey,” warns Thor, nevertheless.
Loki feels too much attention aimed at him.
“Gotta go.”
“Need a ride later?” offers his brother.
Loki just... Enough.
“I need to go to the library after class,” he says, gritting teeth. “I’ll catch
the bus.” (As I always fucking do. As I’ve been doing for almost two fucking
years. I don’t fucking need you to babysit me, brother, just because suddenly
you feel a bit guilty that you’ve been treating me worse than someone you’ve
never even met before this entire time.)
“Ok. Text me if you change your mind, yeah?”
Loki stomps away. He did need to go to the library, but he doesn’t. He stays
out in the street, sulking, thinking. He goes over last night’s chat again.
Brilliant idea, just what he needed to pull himself together. He reads, and
huffs, and scoffs. So mom and dad see Loki as a little boy who can’t control
his temper? His dad is forever letting Loki know just what a disappointment he
is, how very childish and moody and irritating. Not feeling the leeway you
mention there at all, brother. And he had realised Thor wasn’t crazy about Loki
hanging with him and Sif and the rest. Loki uses them as a screen, to make it
seem like he’s not alone. He had not realised it looked so… pathetic. And it’s
not like Thor is sharing them. What is Loki taking from him? What?
Does he resent Thor? Does he want Thor to be miserable? He once fantasised
about dying, to make Thor feel guilty. You’ll miss me when I’m deadkind of
thing.
However. When Loki was getting all that attention, Thor wasn’t getting any.
It’s true that they must have left Thor to fend for himself a lot. Mum spent so
much time in hospital, and their dad is not exactly warm. Mum tried to be
everywhere, but if she was in the hospital with Loki, she couldn’t be with Thor
whenever he needed her. ...Did he need her much, then? Because he was also
little and he was also scared, because his kid brother might die?
Shit, Thor has the fucking nerve to resent himfor things that are entirely
outside of Loki’s control. For the fucking illness. For how people treated each
of them. It’s… Shit, it’s understandable. Thor was a kid too. If he'd been in
Thor's place... Yeah, probably. It would have felt like Loki had all the
fucking luck. They never told Loki off for throwing a temper tantrum, and he
was quite into those. Thor got yelled at and sent to his room and had gaming
and TV privileges removed, he got stern talks, he was made to acknowledge the
wrong of his behavior and apologize. They didn't make Loki finish his dinner.
If Thor didn't eat his greens, he'd have them served again for breakfast. All
those little things. To a ten-year-old, it must have felt so bitterly unfair.
And even though we're talking about a life-threatening condition and a really
uncomfortable medical treatment here, Thor might even have been jealous.
...Loki would probably have been jealous, right? Had it been him? So yeah, he
can understand. But he does not want to understand. Why must he. Thor isn't ten
anymore. He wasn't ten when they got to high school. And the leukaemia-free
pass Loki used to get has long expired. Nobody gives him anything for free
anymore. Nobody lets him get away with anything. He got over the fucking
illness. Can't Thor get over it too? -What can I do?, Thor wondered last night.
Well how about stop blaming me for being sick? For taking up so much attention?
For how the grownups treated me? I fucking needed you in there, asshole! So
you’re tired of being my older brother? Well fuck you! I’m tired of you being
my brother too!
...Damn. It hurts to think this kind of thing. Loki doesn’t mean it. Does he?
Shit, sometimes...sometimes he does. Sometimes he hates Thor with a burning
passion, the kind of hatred that makes you willing to ruin yourself to ruin
someone else. But right now, Loki is just tired. And confused. He had no idea
what he was signing up for when he came up with his plan to entrap Thor.
 
“Where were you?” asks his mother gently when he gets home.
“Library,” he answers.
“It’s a bit late, don’t you think?”
“Physics midterm is coming,” he mumbles.
She nods, and smiles sweetly. She trusts him. She trusts him not to make
trouble. Loki could get anything past her if he wanted. He thinks he’s so
clever. (Yeah, a genius. She knows you don’t have a fucking life, idiot.)
 
He toys with his food at dinner time, chases it around the plate. This time,
Thor doesn’t tell him to eat up. He’s fidgety, gobbling down his meal in huge,
hurried mouthfuls.
“Remember to chew every now and again, son,” grumbles their dad.
Thor finishes first, of course, way ahead of the rest of the family.
“Can I be excused?” he says eagerly.
Dad sighs. He’s really fixed on these family meals at the table together.
“Got homework,” hedges Thor.
“What have you been doing all afternoon then?” grumbles dad.
“Alright,” says mum, ignoring that, and ignoring Odin’s soft huff. “Off you
go.”
She’s the boss in this house, and they’re all the better for it. Thor kisses
mum and dashes upstairs. And sure enough, one minute later, Loki’s phone
vibrates with a message warning.
He ignores it. He doesn't feel like playing fucking charades tonight. He'll
make himself later, because he's disciplined, and determined, and perseverant
if the goal is worthwhile and he's sufficiently motivated, but he's in no
rush. He toys with his food for a bit longer. He knows he better get some more
of it down, or they’re going to pester him to no end. He could get away with it
(mum is nothing if not understanding), but he’d rather not do that tonight. So
he chews and rolls the food around in his mouth and scatters it all over the
plate until both his parents are finished. When they stand to clean up, so does
he. He knows he’s not fooling either of them, and he can hear the huffs and
sighs, but they’re fed up and tired too, they can't bring themselves to parent
any more, and they let it go. Loki was fully counting on it. 
Loki goes upstairs, shuts his door, sits on the bed, and ceremoniously gets his
phone out.
 
Storm99: u there princess?
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey
Storm99: hey <333
Storm99: missed u 2day
Storm99: thought about u a lot
Storm99: what we talked about yesterday
Storm99: tried 2 be less of a dick 2 my bro
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: that’s nice
Storm99: not sure he even noticed
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m sure he did
Storm99: not much i can do is there
Storm99: i can try that’s all
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: anything wrong princess?
Storm99: can’t u talk?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. All the mess he’s been
feeling all day resolves into this slimy emotion, this poisoned, sick triumph.
He’s got his brother eating out of the palm of her hand, this creation of
Loki’s, this fictional girl he’s put together and has cleverly been dishing out
in just the right way.
...And that’s exactly what this fictional girl would believe as well, right? If
she was real? She would look at the evidence -the smooth words, the enthusiasm,
the eagerness, the I missed yous and I thought about yous- and think… Yeah,
she'd get excited, right? She'd get her hopes up. She would believe this is
something that it's not. Because she wouldn’t know about Jane.
And Sorrow said she was lonely. She’s obviously needy and desperate and
vulnerable, and Thor just… He gives and gives and gives, and it feels fucking
awesome, but what he's really giving you is a fucking rope to fucking hang
yourself with. Like those summers in Auntie Ida's fucking farm. 
Loki clenches his jaw. Oh, brother. I am going to fucking destroy you.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m just not sure what we’re doing here
Storm99: what u mean?
One_for_Sorrow5654: u here 2 make friends?
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t u already have friends?
One_for_Sorrow5654: u put a shirtless pic of urself on ur profile bc u wanted
to make friends?
Storm99:
Storm99:
 
Yeah, that's it. Look yourself in the fucking mirror, Mr. 'I want to get to
know you better', Mr. 'Let's talk a bit first', Mr. Mr. 'Thought about you
today'. 
And now, let's fucking nail this.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i came here for a reason
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m here for sex
One_for_Sorrow5654: to experience it with somebody else
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want to stop feeling so wrong
One_for_Sorrow5654: so i really don’t know what we’re doing
Storm99:
Storm99:
 
Hm. Oh shit. Too much? Have we lost him?
…No, we can salvage this. You can play him. You know him. Use it. (It stings to
tone it down, but whatever it takes, right?)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry
One_for_Sorrow5654: i just
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t u like me?
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t u want this with me?
Storm99: it’s not that
Storm99:
 
So what the fuck is it then. You whipped your dick out for the others, why not
for Sorrow? (Loki scoffs, alone in his room. Man you’re pathetic. Your own
fucking brother’s rejection of your fictional girl persona is stinging.)
 
Storm99: princess u’re great
Storm99: u’r gorgeous and fun and cute and i love talking 2 u
Storm99: just bc a guy doesn’t grab ur pussy the moment u meet doesn’t mean u’r
not attractive
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t patronise me
Storm99: sorry i didn’t mean 2
 
(Sigh. You really need to tone it down now.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: no i’m sorry i’m being a jerk
Storm99: another bad day?
 
(Hell no, not this time. Don't change the fucking subject, Storm-boy.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u want me?
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: u’r gorgeous
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t. Answer me
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: yes i want u
One_for_Sorrow5654: then why don’t u
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: why don’t i what
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what do u want
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Shit, it's... hard to type? For some reason? Not like he hasn't typed worse
things on this chat before... 
It just... feels weird. He's been doing a lot of confessing and soul-
searching through Sorrow's mask, hasn't he? Edges blurring. Identities
blending. Hm.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want u 2 get me off
One_for_Sorrow5654: can u do that
Storm99:
 
A shudder of unrest. (Eew.)
Come on, say what you have to. Nail his fucking ass.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i need it
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want to
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want 2 b with some1 and for it to feel easy and nice
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want to feel normal
Storm99:
Storm99: why do u think it would feel like that with me
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc u’r nice
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i like u
Storm99: u attracted 2 me?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i trust u
Storm99: idk princess u’re so young
Storm99: i feel like a creep
 
Oh, for fucks sakes.
For a moment, he thinks of calling it off. Create a new profile, choose the pic
of a girl with humongous tits, and invent a whole new identity his brother
won’t be so scrupulous with.
But he knows how to play this. He can play this. And he’s come this far. It’s
almost a matter of pride at this point. He wants to get his way.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u’r not a creep
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i’m not a baby
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i’m going to do this
One_for_Sorrow5654: with u or with someone else
One_for_Sorrow5654: would u rather i get it from some1 else
Storm99: that’s not nice princess
Storm99: pushing buttons like that
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry
One_for_Sorrow5654: i just don’t want u 2 feel u’r doing something u shouldn’t
One_for_Sorrow5654: i know this place is full of creeps and sleazes and i was
ready for that but i wasn’t ready 4 u
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m lucky i got u instead
One_for_Sorrow5654: i really want this and i want it 2 b u
One_for_Sorrow5654: we’ll never meet anyway
One_for_Sorrow5654: so what’s the difference
One_for_Sorrow5654: pls
Storm99:
Storm99:
 
(Come on, come on, come on…)
 
Storm99: but u gotta tell me if it bcomes 2 much
Storm99: i understand u don’t have experience and that this is hard 4 u
Storm99: and that’s alright that’s fine
Storm99: it’s supposed 2 feel nice ok
Storm99: so u gotta promise me right now
Storm99: if it doesn’t feel nice u’ll tell me
Storm99: and we’ll slow down
Storm99: i don’t want 2 say anything that doesn’t feel good 2 u ok
Storm99: so if it gets 2 much or feels wrong or u’r uncomfortable
Storm99: u’r going 2 tell me
Storm99: and we’ll figure it out
Storm99: i won’t b mad
Storm99: and i won’t stop talking 2 u
Storm99: yeah princess?
 
Fuck. Wow. Okay. Triumph. Right? You did it. Score.
Uh. He’s feeling a bit sick now.
 
Storm99: princess?
 
Shit. Wake the fuck up.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: now what
Storm99: LOL
Storm99: allow me ;)
Storm99: what r u wearing
 
Uh, right. (Bleurgh, the thing his belly just did.) How does this even work?
(His pulse is pounding.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: pj
Storm99: lol
Storm99. is it cute?
One_for_Sorrow5654: adorbs
Storm99: is it soft?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: u touching it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: want me 2?
Storm99: yeah
 
(Jesus.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me where 2 put my hand
Storm99: hm
One_for_Sorrow5654: what
Storm99: i liked that ;)
 
Loki fidgets on his ass. Does that mean Thor…? (His fucking stomach.)
 
Storm99: u know where i want u 2 put ur hand don’t u
 
(Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.)
Loki swallows. He’s so fucking nervous. Why the hell is he so nervous.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have a slight idea
Storm99: u wearing a bra?
 
Uh. Would a girl be wearing a bra?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: not to sleep doofus
Storm99: some girls do
One_for_Sorrow5654: in your broad experience
Storm99: ;)
 
Enough with the fucking winky smileys or so help me…
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i don’t need 2. my tits are not so big
Storm99: they’re perfect
 
Loki rolls his eyes.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: thank u very much
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Go on then. We’ll never fucking get there otherwise.
Shit, this is hard.It’s just words on a fucking screen, Loki. Pull your stupid
self together. You don't even have goddamn tits!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish u could touch them
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish u were here now
Storm99: i wish i was there too
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: what would u do rn
Storm99:
Storm99: this would b ur first time right?
 
Loki’s pulse manages to pump even faster.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yup
Storm99: then i’d take it real slow
Storm99: i’d be real gentle
Storm99: i’d kiss ur forehead ur eyes i’d hold ur hand
Storm99: how does that feel princess
 
Like this is going to take forever, oh god.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: good. great.
Storm99: where are u rn princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: in bed
Storm99: u lying down?
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorta
Storm99: lie down close ur eyes pretend i’m there
One_for_Sorrow5654: how can i read the fucking phone then
Storm99: lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: okay okay
Storm99: pretend i’m there beside you
Storm99: i’m stroking your hair
Storm99: we could make out for a long long time
Storm99: i’d kiss ur lips ur neck ur ears
Storm99: ever had that done before?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah once
Storm99: the girl or the boy?
One_for_Sorrow5654: boy
Storm99: did u like it?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: it was intense
One_for_Sorrow5654: if it was someone i like I might
Storm99: like me?
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe
Storm99: u trust me?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: u know u can stop me at anytime
Storm99: the moment u feel queasy
 
Queasy? Loki's fucking shaking.
Come on, now. You’re so close, so close.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m not queasy
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t stop
Storm99: ok princess
Storm99: so i’d look after u so well
Storm99: until u were really worked over
Storm99: get u nice and ready for more
One_for_Sorrow5654: get me real wet?
Storm99: ;) ur panties would b soaked
One_for_Sorrow5654: not wearing any. pjs remember?
Storm99: hmmm hot
One_for_Sorrow5654: and u’d be really hard
One_for_Sorrow5654: are u hard now?
Storm99:
Storm99: yeah
Storm99: and getting there
 
Fuck. …Really?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u just saying that 2 make me feel good?
Storm99: no
Storm99: it’s very fucking hot
Storm99: ur first time bby
 
Ah, the goddamn hot churn in Loki’s stomach. Is he going to be sick?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: what next
Storm99: can i touch u
Storm99: ur breasts
Storm99: through ur clothes first
Storm99: i’d lick them and suck them until i can see right through ur shirt
Storm99: then i’d take ur top off. if u’d let me
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’d let u
Storm99: i’d love to see them and touch them now
Storm99: nipples so hard
Storm99: i’d b gentle
Storm99: princess u’r so beautiful
Storm99: touch urself now. touch ur tits
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: ok
Storm99: how does it feel
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
(He does it. He touches himself for a moment. Research.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: tickles
Storm99: remember how it felt when u had ur nipples sucked
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: i wish i was doing that now
Storm99: close ur eyes for a moment imagine i’m doing it 2 u
 
Loki does not close his eyes and he does not try to imagine his brother sucking
his fucking nipples, because he’s almost got this and he’s not about to fucking
ruin it by being sick all over his fucking phone.
(…He does get a flash of the guy doing that at that party, whether he likes it
or not. They’re between a pile of coats and jackets, and they guy's hard-on is
pressing against Loki’s thigh, and Loki's getting hard too and he thinks, well,
so that’s it then, that’s settled; I must be gay.)
 
Storm99: how r u feeling bby
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: nervous?
Storm99: u turned on?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: turned on
Storm99: r u wet?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: u just touched ur self?
 
Uh.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: do u like doing it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: who doesn’t
Storm99: how do u like it
 
Shit. What do girls like?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk, the usual
Storm99: u rub ur clit?
 
Jesus fuck. He should have done some research (although the mere thought makes
his stomach heave).
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: finger urself?
 
Heh. Well, here’s something he can answer sincerely at last.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: do u like it?
 
Why else would I fucking do it otherwise, moron?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: hmm so hot
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah?
One_for_Sorrow5654: does it make u hard?
Storm99: fuck yeah
Storm99: i’m imagining u
Storm99: on ur bed
Storm99: touching urself
Storm99: with ur fingers inside u
Storm99: thinking of me
Storm99:
Storm99: are u ok princess
 
Jesus Joseph and Mary.
No, he’s not. Loki's very much fucking not okay. He imagined it too, what Thor
just said, couldn't fucking help it, and now his pulse is thumping in his
temples, his underbelly is rolling and tumbling, and he's beyond horrified;
he's now reached a place where he can't even tell how he feels. His internal
organs are doing all sorts of weird things, like somebody went and pressed all
the buttons of a washing machine and all the programs are running at the same
time. What an almighty mess. 
…It’s just words on a screen, Loki. Just fucking words on a screen. It's not
fucking real, nothing is. Push on through. Finish this.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m just so turned on
Storm99: but ok? feeling good?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t stop now
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me more
Storm99: if i was with u now i’d like to go down on u
Storm99: would u like that?
 
Loki folds over. There's been a stirring, a spike of something in a place he
doesn’t want to feel anything right now. His heart rate is getting ridiculous. 
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: i’d be so gentle
Storm99: kiss ur thighs ur belly button
Storm99: spread ur legs for me bby
 
Shit. A throb.
Words. On. A. Fucking. Screen. It’s got nothing to do with… Nothing to do,
okay? It’s not fucking real. It’s nothing, doesn’t mean anything.
Deep breaths.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: my tongue, i’d lick u slow, part ur lips
Storm99: can u feel my breath princess
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: it’s hot and heavy
Storm99: ur clit is hard
Storm99: i flick my tongue slowly, make it harder
Storm99: suck it gently
Storm99: would u let me finger u
 
Loki’s breathing, shallow and short.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: fuck yes
Storm99: r u horny? u touching urself?
 
Throat dry. Swallow. Hands firmly on the phone.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: i’d feel it with my tongue first
 
Fuck.
 
Storm99: then i’d feel u up, see how relaxed u are, while i lick u
Storm99: until u let me in
Storm99: i’d screw my finger slowly, still licking and sucking ur clit
Storm99: then fuck u real slow with my finger
Storm99: find the sweet spot inside
 
Loki licks his lips, so dry.
 
Storm99: and touch ur tits too, thumb ur nipple gently
One_for_Sorrow5654: how many hands do u have
Storm99: XD
Storm99: enough
Storm99: trust me
One_for_Sorrow5654: u do this a lot?
Storm99: XD as much as they let me
Storm99: i love going down on girls
Storm99: feels so good, it’s so hot seeing them like that
Storm99: i’d make u come like that
Storm99: make u come so hard
Storm99: with my finger and my mouth
Storm99: u touching urself princess?
 
Touching himself? Loki even refuses to adjust the semi-boner he’s developed,
even though it’s kinda squashed. He won’t fucking get near it. Like, ever
again. Ever. Not with gloves, not with fucking tweezers. Just in case.
(Besides, it could not be a boner. It could be that the squashing is making it
feel, you know. I mean, his stomach is acting weird, there's all sorts
happening in that lower belly area. So better not fucking get near it, lest
we find out it was a boner after all).
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u want me to?
Storm99: i’d like 2 make u come
 
No. He can’t even fucking write it down. Unthinkable. Just. No.
 
Storm99: unless u don’t feel like it
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk
One_for_Sorrow5654: i just
One_for_Sorrow5654: ur touching ur dick?
Storm99: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: u do it
Storm99: do it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: jerk off
Storm99: that what u want?
 
Shit, Thor, can’t you just…? Goddammit, don’t make me say it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: pls
Storm99: ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: do it
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t say anything
One_for_Sorrow5654: just do it
Storm99: ok
Storm99: i'll think about u
Storm99:
 
Shit. Thor’s just behind that wall, and he’s…? Loki tries to listen and not
hear anything at the same time. Fucking gross, why is he still half-hard? Shit,
he needs to be put in a fucking looney asylum. Like, he’ll fill in the
application himself.
 
Storm99: princess
 
Loki’s stomach does a flip. It ends up the wrong way up, judging by how off it
feels.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey
Storm99: u ok?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: u?
Storm99: great
 
Gulps.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: was it good?
Storm99: unusual
 
(Oh, you have no fucking idea, brother.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: how so?
Storm99: idk
Storm99: u’r unusual
One_for_Sorrow5654: am i?
One_for_Sorrow5654: good or bad?
Storm99: good. great. fantastic.
 
The realisation of what he’s just done crashes on him like a ton of bricks. He
just sex chatted his brother and got him to jerk off for him. What kind of sick
fuck… Oh my god, if Thor ever finds out…
Now he is feeling sick. About to retch.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: we should call it a night
Storm99: u’r the boss princess
Storm99: but u’r ok?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: u sure?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: thank u for this
One_for_Sorrow5654: welcome
Storm99: don’t let the bedbugs bite princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: sure
One_for_Sorrow5654: nite nite
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat.
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     *hands over tissues*
     i regret nothing
     (except maybe mumblemumble-Ididnotrewritethis-thisisafirstdraft-
     mumblemumble)
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     "The other clever thing to do, Loki will observe later that night,
     with the benefit of hindsight (as he retches over the toilet in the
     middle of the night, cold sweat on his forehead, shaky hands), was to
     leave a day or two for his fury to cool down before attempting to put
     again the plan in action. He was clearly too invested in this, too
     worked up in general, for it to be anything but a complete and
     unabated disaster. He should have fucking waited. He should have
     known."
     Oh, Loki, baby...
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
 
“Oh, Loki…” sighs his mother in dismay when he turns up for breakfast the
following morning, with spectacular purple circles around his eyes and glazed
pupils, caused by an evident, severe lack of sleep. “What was it, were you on
your phone, or reading, or revising…?”
Loki rubs his eyes.
“I just couldn’t get to sleep,” he grumbles. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Are you feeling well?” There’s that note of panic in her voice, nothing but an
accent. Loki’s ear is well attuned to it, so he doesn’t miss it.
“I’m perfectly alright,” he declares, touchy. Give me a break, mum, it’s been,
like, what, ten years?
 
On the matter of being perfectly alright, however, the jury is still out. There
are many definitions of alright, but Loki’s pretty sure that what he did
yesterday with his brother doesn’t fit into any of them. Frankly, it would be
even more alarming if he had managed to sleep at all. As it is, it seems
there’s still a semblance of moral sense in that cesspool of wrong his brain is
turning out to be.
 
Getting in the car with Thor makes him acquainted with ever more acute levels
of discomfort. He huddles in the back seat, stuffs in his earbuds, and tries to
get Thor to forget he’s even there. His eyes are falling shut, heavy as lead,
but his brain is scuttling in twelve directions, in full panic mode. Meanwhile,
Thor is whistling and humming, in an obscenely good mood. And that, of course,
is Fucked Up with a capital F. Loki is so, so dead.
He manages to live through the day, and he does so with the firm conviction to
steer clear of the chat from now on. Forget this stupid plan. Forget about it
all. He’s clearly bit off more than he can chew. He was still way away from
finished processing their first conversations, and he doesn’t have a clue how
to even approach what happened yesterday. He doesn’t want to think about it. As
in, he categorically refuses. Big fat nope.
And when he gets home that afternoon (thank god it’s Friday, mum and dad’s date
night, they’ll be out till late, he won’t be pestered), he shuts himself up in
his room and spends the rest of the day shooting zombies. He avoids the chat.
Hell, he puts the phone in a drawer. He doesn’t want to see it. He doesn’t want
to be reminded of any of it. He considers deleting the app altogether.
When Thor gets home (very late, only fifteen minutes before their parents; he’s
cutting it closer and closer), Loki pretends to be asleep. Every sound coming
from his brother’s room makes him jump.
 
Thor spends a good chunk of the weekend out with his mates. Thank god for small
mercies. By the time Monday arrives, Loki’s urgent terror has lost some of its
edge. Thor doesn’t suspect a thing, of course. How could he? But he still
dodges Thor’s brotherly come ons at school by staying away from the cafeteria.
He might not be as scared, but he’s still feeling weird as fuck about it all.
As for Thor, he’s still doing the overly friendly thing, but the novelty seems
to be wearing off, or he forgets why he was making an effort, or maybe he’s
just too busy having a life. Anyway, things between them slowly return to their
natural course. Still no big fights of course, because Loki is pretty much
hiding in a portable shell like a hermit crab, trying to make everyone forget
he’s there, and there’s no need to fight with a shell.
A hell of a lot of things are happening beneath that shell. The frantic,
continuous whirl of his thoughts make entire continental landmasses of belief
move within, shatter here, crash there, rearranging the landscape of his
thoughts in a process almost beyond Loki’s control, or even comprehension. He
can only look on and try to work out what the fuck is happening inside as the
pieces this thing has shaken fall into place in strange, new ways. Emptiness
detected. Aggravated loneliness. Pain. What the hell is wrong with him?
Eventually it dawns on him, what he’s feeling. When he gets home from school
every day to an empty house and a quiet phone, and the plan for the evening is
always to sit down with some textbooks, then play, then family dinner, and then
read and go to bed. The nagging, unpleasant, irritating feeling sheds layer
after layer until its true nature reveals itself: he’s grieving. He fucking
misses being Sorrow, that’s what it is. He misses the goddamn chats. He misses
being asked about his day, being listened to, getting compliments and
attention, he misses… Shit, it’s possible he’s even missing the flirting. He
misses looking forwards to something. He feels lonelier than ever before.
A little devil on his shoulder whispers in his ear that his phone is just
there. At first, Loki has no problem telling it to fuck off. But as the days go
by, the longing gets worse. It really is just there. You could have a little
look. No need to talk. Come on, where’s the harm.
Aaaaand he gives in. He checks the app, wherein half a dozen messages from
Storm await, reading like a crappy yet somehow poignant piece of contemporary
poetry:
 
Storm99: princess u there?
Storm99: princess u there?
Storm99: princess?
Storm99: thought about u 2day princess
Storm99: i’m getting a bit worried bby
Storm99: just a word to tell me u’r ok?
Storm99: princess?
Storm99: princess?
 
It gets him feeling all soppy. Oh, man. He rubs his eyes deeply and turns the
app off again. Then he ceremoniously deletes it altogether. For his mental
health, for his actual bodily health if Thor should ever figure it out, and
because this is… shit, it’s not real. He’ll go insane yearning for something
that does not exist. He needs to wean himself off it and move on. Forget the
stupid plan, forget everything.
So you’re craving company and affection? How about this revolutionary notion
instead: Talk to your fucking brother. How’s that? Don't you think it would
make sense? You know he misses you, he’s fucking told you himself. He misses
being your friend. He’s trying to be nice to you. So why don’t you do yourself
some good, for once, something not completely twisted and unhealthy and insane?
How about you just… Hey, Thor, shall we watch a movie?It's really not that
hard. He's your fucking brother, fucksakes.
The Goonies.We could watch The Goonies. Haven’t seen it in ages. We could do
that…
Good plan. Sound plan. All you need is a little courage, a little
determination. He will not reject you. He will not tell you to fuck off. He
misses you. He's fucking told you in so many words. So let’s set a date, shall
we? So there's no pulling back? Okay, so, Thor has training three times a week,
and he meets up with his mates and/or Jane the rest of the time, but maybe on
the weekend…? Yeah, maybe on Sunday evening or something? He’s usually in on
Sunday evening. We could do it then. Alright, that’s a date. (Shit, don’t use
that word.) Uh, that’s set. On Sunday evening Loki shall ask Thor casually if
he feels like watching The Goonies together. Like two regular, ordinary,
normal, not-at-all-fucked-up brothers. Which they are. Right? They're just a
little out of practice.
And Loki feels a little bit better about everything. He’s looking forwards to
it.
 
Friday evening again.
“Don’t stay up late, darling,” says mum when she comes into Loki’s room (after
duly knocking and waiting to be invited in) and kisses his head.
“You look nice, mum,” says Loki, in high spirits for once.
Her face lights up.
“Thank you, darling,” she says, pleasantly surprised. It earns Loki another
kiss. ‘S nice. “How about pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Sure, mum,” he smiles, genuinely delighted at the prospect. “Have a good
time.”
Exits mum, looking too beautiful to be the mother of two teenage boys, in a
blue gown with a golden scarf and golden high-heeled shoes. She said they were
going dancing. It’s kinda gross. Cute, but gross, mostly because Loki just
can’t wrap his head around the thought of his dad being anything but a stone-
faced grouch. So, dancing? To music? In other people's presence? For fun? Get
outta here.
 
Soon after mum and dad leave, too soon to be anything but deliberate,
Loki hears the back door, then some shuffling, and some giggling. Then quick
steps up the stairs, and his door cracks open. Thor’s face appears, preceded by
a stretched out arm, finished with a menacing pointy index finger.
“We’re not here, get it?” Sounds like Thor the Asshole is back in town.
“Hi, Loki,” says Jane, poking her head in too, waving.
Thor slams Loki’s door shut.
A second later, Loki hears Thor’s door. More giggles. Then furniture creaking,
and what to Loki sounds like hums and sighs.
Loki shuts his eyes heavily. Fuck. Not this. Not today. How about never. Fuck,
no.
The house is so quiet. The walls are way too fucking thin. Loki frantically
stuffs in his earbuds and blares some music, even though he hates it so loud.
He can’t help the images in his head though. Unwanted, violently rejected, and
still fucking there. He does not want to see them. You hear that, brain? Stop
it with the fucking visuals! God, no, he doesn’t want that uneasy feeling in
his stomach. Reminds him too much of… He doesn’t want to feel anything,
goddammit. Is that too much to ask?
He kills zombies. Or he tries. He’s useless today. He’s just… furious. So
furious. So angry. Burning with it. Trembling with it. Nostrils fucking flaring
with it, teeth gritting. No idea against whom, or why. Thor, he decides.
Because how fucking dare he. Do that to Sorrow. Do that to Jane. How fucking…
Damn him! (THONK!Loki sends the controller flying.)
Play on, idiot. Keep busy. Die bastards die. Fuck you and you and you, and
especially fucking you.
 
It must have been an hour. Loki’s headache is getting really, really bad. He
doesn’t dare leave his room for painkillers.
His door opens and he jumps.
“I’m driving Jane home,” says his brother. “If you tell mum or dad I’ll fucking
kill you.”
“Oh, Thor!” says Jane, disapproving. “Ignore him,” she says to Loki.
They're both looking rosy-cheeked and glinty-eyed and Loki wants to fucking set
the house on fire.
“You heard me,” warns Thor, doing the fucking finger-pointing thing.
Jane rolls her eyes, shakes her head heavily, gives Loki a complicit 'ugh this
man right?' kind of look.
“Bye, Loki,” she waves.
They hop down the stairs. Loki can hear them sniggering all the way down like a
couple of idiots.
“Next time, fucking knock!” he yells.
No answer. The door downstairs slams shut.
 
Every drop of ill feeling he’s ever had towards his brother returns full blast.
This asshole can’t be allowed to keep getting away with it. He does not deserve
this girl. This girl definitely does not deserve this. And Sorrow doesn’t…
Somebody must teach this asshole that actions have consequences, that you can’t
have your cake and eat it, and then get every other fucking cake around just
like that, and never have to pay for any of it.
The Trap sounds like a genius idea again. He was being squeamish because he
just has to overthink everything. Get a fucking grip. Grow some fucking balls.
For Sorrow. For Jane.
With a clear purpose and a cool mind, he re-reads their last chat. Clinical
assessment: too mild, too sweet, too clean.  It’s miles away from the filth
Loki glimpsed in that chat with that Amora girl. He needs to do better.
Now, the clever thing here, the rational thing, would be to create someone like
Amora, someone without the innocent/virginal vibe, someone Thor doesn’t have a
problem calling a “hot bitch”, asking her to send him a pic of her “sweet
pussy,” someone he’s perfectly happy to “put on her knees” and command to “suck
that thick cock.” But a) Loki doesn’t have time to do the whole “getting to
know each other first” thing again, and b) he wants it to be Sorrow. He wants
Sorrow to get her revenge. He wants that chapter closed. Fuck reason. Fuck
clever.
So, not the most rational thing perhaps, since Thor has this knight-in-shining-
armor attitude towards Sorrow that makes him all protective and delicate, but
Loki is no fucking shrinking violet, and he’ll prove that. He may not have
actual experience, but he’s seen his fair share of porn and he’s read enough
smut online to be able to fake this shit convincingly. Psych yourself up. Just
words on a screen. Not real, not true. Don’t overthink. Just get him where you
want him, screenshot the fuck out of the chat, create a ghost email account,
email Jane the filthy evidence. Behold your brother being faced with the
reality of what he’s doing. Behold his ass being kicked. Breathe easy, Loki,
for you will conquer.
 
                                     * * *
 
The other clever thing to do, Loki will observe later that night, with the
benefit of hindsight (as he retches over the toilet in the middle of the night,
cold sweat on his forehead, shaky hands), was to leave a day or two for his
fury to cool down before attempting to put again the plan in action. He was
clearly too invested in this, too worked up in general, for it to be anything
but a complete and unabated disaster. He should have fucking waited. He should
have known.
He’s always been told he should learn patience, for his own good. Well, lesson
learned the painful way, he thinks, as he flushes.
He sits with his back against the cold tile wall, panting. He can only thank
the heavens he managed not to wake anyone up.
 
Burrowing in his bed some time after that, obsessively going over recent
events, he confronts reality. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had
waited two days or three weeks or ten fucking years. This has nothing to do
with clouded judgement and bad timing. This sick shit is within himself. He
rocks on his side, hugging himself. God, what is he going to do now.
 
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     i've got the next one ready... Won't publish just yet. SUFFER!
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     "Hey, will you look at this. He’s got Thor precisely where he wants
     him. And he didn’t even have to try! How about that. ... You won’t
     have an opportunity like this again. Look at him, he’s put himself on
     the platter, stuffed the apple in his own mouth, and he’s ready to be
     cooked and carved. Just a little nudge, that’s all it will take.
     Wasn’t that the plan? Well what are you waiting for, then?
     The uncomfortable churn in his underbelly is beginning to stir.
     Courage, Loki."
Chapter Notes
     I thought of waiting until tonight but... Hey it's Saturday, the sun
     is shining, and I am IMPATIENT okay?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
 
(Earlier that evening.)
 
He waits with his ears pricked up for Thor to come home from dropping Jane at
her place. His brother doesn’t keep him waiting long. He hears the front door
and footsteps thumping up the stairs. Loki downloaded the app again, and as
Thor stomps down the hallway, he makes Sorrow log in.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey
 
He messages just as Thor walks past his door and mumbles some sort of greeting.
His brother’s bedroom door shuts. Approximately ten seconds later, Loki’s phone
vibrates in his hand.
 
Storm99: princess! been missing you so much! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
 
Loki’s jaw clenches tight, beyond his control. A dark scowl settles on his
face. He tries – he really does.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: oh yeah?
Storm99: so much bby
Storm99: u had me all worried
 
No, Loki doesn’t really try. Who’s he even trying to kid.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i bet u had ten other girls to help u pass the time
One_for_Sorrow5654: i bet u have them lining up
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m sure u were just fine
Storm99:
Storm99:
 
You’re huffing like a fucking steam train, idiot. He’ll fucking hear you!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: am i wrong?
One_for_Sorrow5654: u’r not gonna tell me i’m the only one are u
Storm99: u’r the only one i talk to since we started chatting
 
Ah, the fucking small print. Nice try, brother.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: like u would tell me if that wasn’t true
Storm99: it’s the truth
One_for_Sorrow5654: sure
One_for_Sorrow5654: sure it is
Storm99:
Storm99: did i do anything wrong princess?
 
Loki rubs his eyes. Calm the fuck down, you sound like a fucking bunny-boiler.
That’s not the way to get him down and dirty with Sorrow again, which is how
you’re going to get your own back. Be fucking cool, dammit.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: why r u so nice to me?
 
Huff. Epic fail. You’re such a fucking imbecile.
So who fucking cares anymore.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s like u want me 2 have feelings 4 u
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t u think that’s kinda cruel?
One_for_Sorrow5654: since i can’t have u
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc it’s not real
Storm99: it’s real
One_for_Sorrow5654: get the hell out
One_for_Sorrow5654: i bet u even have a gf irl
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t u?
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’ll take that as a yes
Storm99: we never said anything about that
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: u know, u’r totally right
One_for_Sorrow5654: i don’t have a right 2 b angry at u
One_for_Sorrow5654: this is just a bit of harmless flirting nothing more
One_for_Sorrow5654: nothing to it
One_for_Sorrow5654: this is just me making it more complicated than it’s got 2
b
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry about that
 
Too bad there’s no special font for sarcasm.
Well then, that was that. You’ve managed to outdo yourself. Failure with a
capital F, the kind that’s several fonts larger than the rest of the text, and
it’s encased in gold, finished with curlicues, and fucking decorated with
flowers and gryphons or human-faced lions or some shit.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i better go
Storm99: princess wait
 
No siree. You get yourself out of here right now, young man. You won’t get what
you’re after tonight, so just don’t fucking stay here nattering!
(He’s typing before he knows it. He just can’t let it go.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: why u do this if u have a gf?
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: she doesn’t satisfy u or something?
Storm99: it’s not that
Storm99:
Storm99: i started chatting here when i was between gfs
Storm99: i stopped for a while when i started dating J
Storm99: but then after a while idk
Storm99: we don’t get to b together that often and i found my eye straying i
must admit
Storm99: this seemed like a harmless way to let off steam
Storm99: kinda sleazy i know
 
Did Thor hear the snort from behind the wall?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: kinda?
Storm99: i know
Storm99:
Storm99: not proud of it but it seemed less harmful than the alternative
 
Why have a fucking steady girlfriend in the first place? Nobody fucking makes
him! Anyway that’s not the point.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: if u just want 2 let off steam, why were u so nice 2 me 2
begin with?
Storm99: why should i be anything but nice?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: i can’t just throw dick pics at girls i’m not like that
Storm99: doesn’t even turn me on when it’s just
Storm99: i like feeling they'r real u know what i mean
Storm99: i like girls who are real people not pornbots
Storm99: and just bc it’s about sex doesn’t mean it has to be cold or
impersonal
Storm99: and just bc a girl feels like having a bit of fun online doesn’t mean
she’s not a human being
Storm99: don’t u think?
Storm99: i’ve been raised to respect people what can i say
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: princess?
 
Loki is all choked up, his eyes burning. Even as a fictional imaginary online
girl, he’s still fucking pathetic. Sexy, eh? Thor won’t be able to resist the
allure of his self-pity.
Well, finish this, then.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m such a fucking drama queen ain’t i
One_for_Sorrow5654: learn ur lesson, don’t ever b nice 2 lonely crazy girls
Storm99: don’t say that
Storm99: i really like u
One_for_Sorrow5654: sure what’s not 2 like
One_for_Sorrow5654: oh right i’m pretty ain’t i
One_for_Sorrow5654: a complete perfect human being in every way everything u
need: boobs and a pussy
Storm99:
Storm99: princess u’r a lot more than pretty
Storm99: and u’r a lot more to me than just a warm body
Storm99: i love talking 2 u
Storm99: u’r fun u’r clever u’r sassy
Storm99: and do u think i get to talk with just anyone the way we u and me have
talked?
Storm99: i feel like we get each other
Storm99: it’s so easy with u like we’ve known each other forever
Storm99: it feels good to let things out and feel like somebody gets u
Storm99: doesn’t it?
Storm99:
Storm99: i just feel like there’s so much more 2 u
Storm99: and hey i like that u don’t take shit from any1
 
(She’s talking all of yours.)
 
Storm99: and it might b my problem but it’s not the same with J
Storm99: idk it could b i guess
Storm99: idk
One_for_Sorrow5654: what
Storm99: with her i’ve never felt like i can talk about things like my brother
and stuff
Storm99: like she has this image of me and i have 2 live up to it
Storm99: and like there’s a lot of me she wouldn’t like if she knew about it
Storm99: or anyway i just never feel like it’s a good time to talk about these
things
Storm99: anyway that’s my problem not hers
Storm99: and i know what i do here sucks
Storm99: but it’s true what i said
Storm99: i’ve thought about u a lot
Storm99: i’ve missed our chats
Storm99: and i’ve been worried
Storm99: i was concerned u had freaked out over what we did
Storm99:
Storm99: have u thought about me too?
 
It’s getting harder to breathe.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: what do u think
Storm99:
Storm99: in a good or bad way?
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s complicated
One_for_Sorrow5654: see above
Storm99: i like how u sound u make me smile
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: do u think about what we did?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah a lot
Storm99: again, good or bad?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk
Storm99: how do u feel about it now?
 
Oh, brother. If only I could begin to tell you.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: weird
Storm99: right
Storm99: and while we were doing it? did u lie 2 me then? did u say u were
alright when u weren’t?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i may have struggled to push through some reservations and
neglected to let u know
Storm99: did that make u feel bad?
One_for_Sorrow5654: nah not bad-bad just
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: did u like it while we were doing it?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: did it feel weird then?
 
(Oh brother, you have no idea.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: not as much
Storm99: glad 2 hear that
 
Hm. Loki’s calmer now. Yeah, appeased. He's totally been charmed hasn't he?
Thor has a knack for this, who'd knew? To think he's the one with the
reputation for being physical, and Loki the one with the words. Hell, Thor, you
managed to sweet-talk even me. Let's remove our imaginary hats to
such remarkable prowess.
And hey, will you look at this. He’s got Thor precisely where he wants him. And
he didn’t even have to try! How about that.
On the other hand, Loki's really, really not sure he wants to go there tonight.
What he wants with his brother is still mostly to strangle him. (Why does he
have to be so fucking…? “I was raised to respect people”, sheesh. Give me a
fucking break.)
However. You won’t have an opportunity like this again. Look at him, he’s put
himself on the platter, stuffed the apple in his own mouth, and he’s ready to
be cooked and carved. Just a little nudge, that’s all it will take. Wasn’t that
the plan? Well what are you waiting for, then?
The uncomfortable churn in his underbelly is beginning to stir. Courage, Loki.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have thought a lot about u
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have thought a lot about what we did
One_for_Sorrow5654: and yeah i guess i wasn’t totally cool all the time but
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i didn’t feel sick or panicky or anything
One_for_Sorrow5654: it was good and u were so nice
One_for_Sorrow5654: i feel like i can trust u
One_for_Sorrow5654: i did fear i was getting a lot more into this than u are
One_for_Sorrow5654: and it’s scary
One_for_Sorrow5654: that’s why i stayed away 2 clear my head
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i guess that gave me 2 much time 2 think and i managed
2 work myself up into well
One_for_Sorrow5654: what u saw earlier
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry about that
One_for_Sorrow5654: u’r very nice and sweet u’ve been so good 2 me
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m not used to people being nice 2 me
One_for_Sorrow5654: but yeah we never said anything about real life we didn’t
make any promises or set any rules or anything
One_for_Sorrow5654: and fair’s fair i know now and i’m still talking 2 u so i
guess
One_for_Sorrow5654: if this is wrong then i’m just as in the wrong as u are
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc i don’t want 2 stop talking
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry i went at you like such a crazy bitch earlier
Storm99: don’t say that
Storm99: stop putting urself down all the time
One_for_Sorrow5654: force of habit
Storm99: habits can b broken
One_for_Sorrow5654: i guess self-pity is not a turn on
Storm99: never mind that
Storm99: be kinder 2 urself
Storm99: it’s better for ur health :)
One_for_Sorrow5654: u like me anyway?
Storm99: ‘course i do
Storm99: u’r really something
One_for_Sorrow5654: something huh?
Storm99: yeah something special <3
 
Oh god, bring the bread and the sticks, let’s have a fucking fondue party. All
that goddamn cheese.
Now, focus. Deep breaths. Here we go.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u still want me?
Storm99: yes princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want u 2
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’d love 2 b with u now
Storm99: i’d love that 2
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Gulps. Still hard to write down.
Yo, wake the fuck up! Words on a screen. This is not you, it’s Sorrow,
imaginary girl, talking to some nameless, faceless binary entity in the world
wide electronic ether. Come on.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: would u kiss me
Storm99: very sweetly.
One_for_Sorrow5654: would u touch me
Storm99: if u wanted me 2
One_for_Sorrow5654: do u want 2 fuck me
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t tell me 2 slow down
One_for_Sorrow5654: just answer me
Storm99:
Storm99: yes i do
 
Loki’s heart rate is picking up again, dammit.
He considers going to sit at his desk rather than lying in bed to put even more
distance between himself and this. Don’t be stupid, he tells himself. This is
where you always fiddle with your phone. Don’t change a thing because of this.
Don’t make it weirder.
He soldiers on.
 
Storm99: princess?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m lying on my bed
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m taking off my clothes
Storm99: shit
One_for_Sorrow5654: does that turn u on
Storm99: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m naked now
One_for_Sorrow5654: lying in bed
Storm99: front or back
 
God, his throat is so dry.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m on my back
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i’m spreading my legs open
Storm99: fuck princess
 
Loki is breathing hard, belly tumbling like a fucking washing machine, hands
tight around his phone to stop them from shaking, and he’s got to bring himself
to write things he never thought he’d be texting to anyone, let alone… Can he
get an actual, physical heart attack from this? Or is it something that only
happens to old millionaires with wives one fifth their age?
Okay, here goes.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want u
One_for_Sorrow5654: touch me
One_for_Sorrow5654: fuck me
Storm99:
Storm99: not so fast
 
Oh my fucking god, Thor. I’m getting grey here!
 
Storm99: i want to eat you out first
Storm99: i’m gonna make u ready
 
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump…Loki's heart making his chest shake.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: so do it
Storm99: i’m lying between ur legs
Storm99: my face in your pussy
Storm99: i’m dying 2 know how u smell bby
Storm99: dying to taste u
Storm99: can u feel my tongue on u
 
Thor’s words are like a punch low in his belly, making him huff. He refuses to
name or analyse what he’s feeling. It’s just… biology, okay? Your fucking
hormones don’t understand what the problem is, primeval evolutionary
adaptations that they are, producing instinctive drives coming from the deepest
reaches of your reptilian brain, animalistic and immune to law and moral, and…
and you’re fifteen and fucking full of them. That’s all it is. Don’t fucking
make a meal of it. Don’t overthink this so much.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish
Storm99: imagine it
Storm99: hot and wet
Storm99: licking u
Storm99: playing with ur clit
Storm99: now i’m sucking it
Storm99: ur hands in my hair
Storm99: come on pull if u have 2
Storm99: if it gets too much
Storm99: don’t b shy i like it
Storm99: i like everything about this about u
Storm99: i’d love 2 hear u moan
Storm99: and call my name
Storm99: and shake bc it feels so good what i’m doing 2 u
Storm99: are u touching urself princess
 
Loki has a pretty fucking massive erection, throbbing and pulsing like a dumb,
blind animal, and he’s still wearing his jeans, which are always too tight, and
shit, he’s aching. He cups himself and squeezes. God, feels so good. Has he
ever been that hard before.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: pretend it’s my hand
 
He whimpered out loud, shit. Did Thor hear anything? He sits very still,
fearing the sound of his heavy breathing will carry through the wall and betray
him.
 
Storm99: are u doing it?
 
(Thank fucking Christ.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: lick ur fingers
Storm99: slowly slowly
Storm99: like u were showing me how u like it
 
(Oh god. He squeezes tighter.)
 
Storm99: r u ok bby
 
(Arguably not, but…)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes so good
One_for_Sorrow5654: don’t stop
Storm99: i want u 2 put ur finger inside u
Storm99: b really gentle b careful
Storm99: imagine it’s mine
Storm99: i’m going 2 open u up very slowly very gently
Storm99: so that u’r ready for me
Storm99: it’s not going 2 hurt one bit
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Oh, god. Fuck. Loki’s on the bed with his hand on his crotch and his legs
crossed and he. Shit, he’s bursting with need. Fifteen years old, at the
biological peak of his sex drive, and never fucking getting any.
It’s so unfair. The first, the only fucking time in his life he’s with an
actual separate real human being, and he’s not about to puke his guts out. Look
at him, he’s fucking writhing, desperate, aching for it, a fucking wet spot on
his jeans. Isn’t that how it is for everyone else?
It’s not fucking real. It’s not his goddamn brother. It’s a character he’s
playing. And this is not Loki himself, this is just someone he’s made up. This
is like, like talking to a machine. It doesn’t fucking mean he has the hots for
his fucking brother. It just… Doesn’t he get to have this? Just this once?
 
Storm99: are u doing it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m making myself ready 4 u
One_for_Sorrow5654: for ur cock
Storm99: shit princess
Storm99: say that again
 
Oh, god.
Loki lies flat on his back. Hands clumsy, trembling badly, he unbuttons his
jeans, pulls them down. He grunts when his cock is released. He spits on his
palm, and bites his lip when he starts stroking, trying to keep quiet. Hmm…
He's gonna have to do this with his left hand if he's to keep texting with his
right...
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: ur cock
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s gonna feel so good
Storm99: if i was there i’d still be licking u
Storm99: fucking u slowly with my fingers
 
His hand on his dick is not enough. He can't... feel the words. He... he
fucking wants to feel the words!
Oh, fuck this. Let’s go to town, shall we. Loki pushes his pants down to his
knees. He keeps a tub of hand cream in his drawer, says “vaseline” on the lid.
He has been using it for – well. He scoops out some cream, lifts one knee,
reaches down, slips one finger inside. His dick throbs now, aching for
stimulation, but at least if he shuts his eyes for a second, he can pretend...
(God you're so, so sick.)
Good job he’s skilled at typing single-handed.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’ve gt my fingrs inside
One_for_Sorrow5654: im fuckng myslf
One_for_Sorrow5654: opening myslf
One_for_Sorrow5654: 4 ur big fat cock
Storm99: fuck
 
A noise behind the wall, Thor’s chair creaking. Loki’s heart jumps; he stays
very still for a moment. If he can hear this, does it mean Thor will be able to
hear him?
He turns onto his stomach. He could just bite the pillow if…
He keeps going with his fingers, and now he can also hump the mattress. Oh,
fuuuck…
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m so trned on
Storm99: i’m so fucking hard bby
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m onmy frontt
Storm99: fuck princess
Storm99: god what i wouldn’t give 2 see u like that
One_for_Sorrow5654: im onmy frrnt nd ihave my fingrs indise nd ur wtchingme nd
tuching urslf
One_for_Sorrow5654: waitng 4me 2b ready
One_for_Sorrow5654: ndwhen im redy ur gonna getn top ofme
One_for_Sorrow5654: andur gnna fuckme
 
Humping the mattress, frustrated, two fingers in, he wishes he could fuck
himself properly with them. He wants this so bad, he might just fucking leave a
burn mark on the fucking comforter.
And the image just pops into his mind unasked for, but once it’s there, he
can’t unsee it. His brother with his pants down, hard-on in hand, standing
there, ready to put his dick inside him. He’s… he’s so fucking beautiful.
Loki whimpers into the pillow and arches his back and really tries to stab his
fingers in. His mind shows him Thor’s hand, his fingers. He knows them so well.
Seen them all his life. Oh, fuck…
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: im ready
One_for_Sorrow5654: god fuck me
Storm99: yes princess
Storm99: i’m lying on top of you
Storm99: i let u feel me
Storm99: ur so wet
Storm99: u let me in so easily and sweetly
Storm99: i push it inside u
Storm99: u feel so good bby so good
Storm99: r u ok princess
 
Loki groans into the pillow.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: its not enogh
One_for_Sorrow5654: my fingrsr not enough
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want u i want it 2 b real
Storm99: shh
Storm99: imagine my weight on top of u
Storm99: imagine how full u would feel
Storm99: we’re closer now than u’ve ever been with anyone and it feels amazing
Storm99: i won’t start moving until u feel good
Storm99: breathe bby
Storm99: i’m kissing ur back ur neck i’m stroking ur hair
Storm99: i’m whispering in ur ear how wonderful u feel
Storm99: now i’m moving gently
Storm99: so that u get used 2 me
Storm99: when it starts 2 feel good ur breathing will change and ur face
Storm99: and i know i can start really giving it 2 u
Storm99: r u touching urself princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
 
So clinical, so underwhelming, “yes”, when Loki’s breathless and whimpering and
having to bite the sheets to keep himself from whining in need.
 
Storm99: i’m fucking u now
Storm99: god ur so hot and so sexy
Storm99: touch urself bby
Storm99: i want u 2 come while i’m inside u
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: fuck yes
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Loki puts his phone down on the pillow, props it against the headboard. He puts
his ass higher up in the air for room to maneuver. Grabs hold of himself,
sticks his fingers back in. This position makes everything a hundred times
worse. And better. He feels exposed, in offering, and it’s sort of humiliating
and fucking mind-blowing. He’s never been more turned on in his life.
Fingers inside, just pressing, he jacks slowly at first in a vain attempt to
make it last. But it escalates so quickly. He just lets himself be carried
away. He’s panting and tiny mewls do escape his lips now and again, and fuck,
what if Thor hears him, what if… Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh god…
He buries his face in the pillow for a moment, but he needs to keep looking at
the screen. He wants to keep reading; he wants to feel Thor’s presence in there
with him. God you’re sick, so sick… fuuuuuck…
 
Storm99: i can feel u getting closer
Storm99: i can hear u
Storm99: fuck princess i’m close
Storm99: come for me bby
 
Fuck, that word… Loki clenches his jaw and groans low and strips fast, clenches
around his own fingers up his ass, and duly comes all over the fucking bed,
sobbing.
He stays there as he is, milking it to the last drop, shuddering at every
aftershock. He almost types “Thor”. He almost sighs it.
 
Wow. Fucking wow. So that’s why people think of nothing but sex all fucking
day. Wow.
 
Still panting, he extracts his fingers, wipes them on the comforter, rolls onto
his back, (avoiding the wet patch).
And this must be an afterglow. His mind is serene and calm and empty, and his
body feels heavy and boneless, like the mattress is sucking him in, and it
feels fucking great.
After a long moment, the phone buzzes. He turns his face lazily to see, but he
can't read it. His arm needs severe coaxing to grab for it.
 
Storm99: princess r u ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: i came
 
(Understatement of the fucking century. There were fucking fireworks, didn't
you see them? Or was it an earthquake. How did you not feel it?)
 
Storm99: me too
Storm99: that was fucking beautiful bby so hot
Storm99: u ok bby?
 
Is he?
His lust sated, slowly sobering up, it starts to sink in. The reality of what
he’s done. The lies he’s told himself, which were complete and utter bullshit,
and yet he fucking clung on to them anyway, to shut up the other voices
shrieking in horror in his head, so that he was able to... God. He’s so many
fucking degrees of not ok. He’s… a sick pervert, basically. He just had the
best orgasm of his young life imagining his own brother was fucking him.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah i’m ok
Storm99: was it good?
 
Well, at least that’s not a lie.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: incredible
One_for_Sorrow5654: u?
Storm99: it was amazing
Storm99: god ur amazing
One_for_Sorrow5654: *u’r
One_for_Sorrow5654: we’re not savages
Storm99: lol
 
Sluggishly, Loki props himself up, examines the mess. Pants around his knees,
come streaking the comforter, his limp dick, his slick ass. And the toilet roll
he keeps in his bedside table for this kind of thing is almost finished. He’s
going to need a bigger roll, he snorts as he starts to clean up.
And then he starts crying. He sobs quietly like a heartbroken little boy, face
hidden in his hands, shoulders shaking.
 
Storm99: princess? ok?
 
Oh, great, his brother is now a telepath.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i don’t know
Storm99: what’s wrong? u feeling sick?
 
He scoffs and wipes his eyes, but the tears just keep coming.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m not going 2 puke rn but
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i’m
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk
Storm99: tell me pls
Storm99: try
One_for_Sorrow5654:  i can’t
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk
One_for_Sorrow5654: i need to go
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Let it be said, the author does not necessarily espouse the
     character's views and reactions and feelings. This talk about being
     sick and perverted and corrupted and stuff, that's all Loki's mental
     drama.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Summary
     "For the first time in his young life, Loki is feeling the full
     meaning of being in over his head. He’s sitting there in a sandstorm
     of confused thoughts, desires, and needs that shake him this way and
     that; what he can have, and what he can’t; what he wants, and what he
     should not want, but does have; this place he got himself into, which
     feels too fucking good to be real, and isn’t real, but is, in a way?
     Oh, his brain is going to fucking explode. God, all the things that
     are there for him to take, if he dares. They’re only ghosts,
     illusions, dreams. But unlike in an actual dream, he can decide how
     this goes, or he can deny himself. He can step back from this. He can
     end this.
     Does he want to end this?"
 
“So,” says mum with a kindly but tight smile, “you don’t have a temperature.
You’ve only been sick the once, though? You’re sure you haven’t thrown up again
this morning?”
Still in bed and refusing to get up and face the world (not even for pancakes,
which is what got mum into his room in the first place), Loki shakes his head
no. He tries, really tries, and barely manages, to hold back the snark. (Mum,
you can’t just… throw up and then be not too sureabout it.) He knows she’s only
offering an out if he previously lied, giving him one more chance to own up to
“the truth.”
The interrogation has been going on for a while. “Nothing, really” wasn’t
cutting it, hence his confessing to his nightly inconvenience to give her a
bone to chew. And she’s looking at him that way, and there’s that wrinkle
between her eyebrows that she gets when she’s worried and never vanishes
completely anymore; he’s sure seen enough of it in his young life.
“Just the once, last night,” he insists. And he lies. “I pigged out on candy
bars. Sorry.”
She stares at him, really stares, like she wants to burn a hole in his forehead
with her eyes and see inside. She does not believe him, does she? It’s got
nothing to do with Loki’s acting skills. It’s just, she knows him. With Loki’s
health, she’s always bracing for the worst. So he lies to spare her the anguish
that will get blown out of all proportion and to get her off his back, and she
knows he lies, because he would. Same desired outcome: some peace. Undesired,
self-defeating outcome: mistrust. He can’t win.
She lets her eyes fall to one side, sighing loudly. She’s going to let it go,
but she’s going to make sure Loki knows this is a free pass, and he only gets
so many of those. Careful now, young man.
“Okay then. So, do you want to stay in bed for a bit longer?” she offers.
Loki nods eagerly. That was the plan.
“Shall I bring you something to eat?”
“No, thanks.”
“I will get you a Gatorade, though, and you better drink it, okay?”
He rolls his eyes, but only slightly.
“Okay, mum.”
“Okay,” she says softly.
She leans over to press a long kiss to his temple. Loki closes his eyes for it.
He’s incapable of returning the gesture - not sure why. He used to be a cuddly,
affectionate little boy. But now, when he gets a hug, he can only stand there
awkwardly, unmoving, until it’s over. Why?
“Call me if you need anything. I’ll leave the door open so I can hear you.”
“No, mum, it’s not necess… Okay, you did it anyway. Fine.” Sigh.
 
Alone again. Alone with his thoughts, actually, so his room feels kinda
crowded.
It was a dismal night. He’s so tired. He wasn’t sick straight away, oh no. He
lay in bed frozen in terror while hearing his brother walk to the bathroom,
wash, piss, and walk back, and he remained frozen for a long time after, awake,
shivering, like a rabbit crouching in a field with a bird of prey circling
above. He heard mum and dad get home, heard their muffled voices and soft
laughter, heard them take turns in the bathroom and go to sleep. He heard them
flick their light switches off even ‒ snappy sound, made him jump. And then he
heard the house settle down, wood frame creaking like an old ship, and other
night noises ‒ dogs barking outside, cats calling, isolated voices and steps on
gravel, one single car getting home at a stupid hour. Soft laughter. And he
felt more lonely and alien than he had ever felt in his entire life, and that’s
saying a lot. Out there, normality. In here… God help him.
The most idiotic, most pathetic feeling had invaded him suddenly. He wished he
could just knock on his brother’s door and get a hug. His brother. Who always
used to have his back. Who always listened to Loki fret about being a freak and
a weirdo and a loner everyone hated, and always knew what to say to make him
feel better. Better, normal. Loved. And he couldn’t. Loki could not walk those
few steps, could not leave behind that flimsy wall between them, could not
knock on Thor’s door, and ask his brother for a hug. It was impossible. Thor
was only next door, but he might as well live on the moon. Loki is not capable
of asking, and Thor doesn’t offer. End of. A few days ago, he would have put it
down on the fact that his brother hated him. Hey ho, his brother does not hate
him, who knew! …But he would. If he ever found out that Loki…
And that was the point in the night when Loki’s innards turned upside down
again, and he only just made it to the toilet.
 
He must have managed to fall asleep at some point, because he had weird,
feverish dreams that he could not remember but that didn’t do anything to help
settle down his digestive system.
It was late morning when he finally regained consciousness, what with mum
breezing in, talking about pancakes. She’d drawn the curtains to let the
daylight in, Loki had receded into the shadows with a hiss and a groan. He must
have painted quite a picture, because her smile dropped the second she turned
and saw his face.
“Darling, are you feeling well?” she had asked, with a painfully obvious effort
not to sound panicked.
Because Loki managed to overcome his illness, but he's beginning to realise his
mum probably never will.
 
                                     * * *
                                        
She brings him the drink, because hydration and minerals and electrolytes and
stuff, because Loki is so thin that he can’t waste the nutrition of even one
single calorie. And he drinks a few sips for her, because the whole waltz is
now ingrained in his psyche and it just happens like that. He promises to
finish the rest of it, but he absolutely doesn’t mean to. Dad is shut up in the
toilet (should be a while…) so Loki contemplates just throwing the thing out
the window. Silly idea, but also fun. Yeah, hilarious, actually, he can’t
resist. So he gets out of bed and goes to the window, mischief on his mind.
But then he pokes his head out, and there’s Thor, mowing the lawn, shirtless. A
pile of bulging, outrageous muscles glistening with sweat. And Loki freezes
there on the spot, unblinking, white noise filling his head.
After god knows how long, Thor stops to wipe the sweat falling into his eyes.
He throws his head back to have a drink of coke (gasp, his neck), and he spots
Loki up there.
“What are you staring at, squirt?”
He’s smiling and it’s like the fucking sun in the sky.
A smart-ass comeback is in order to preserve a semblance of normality, but Loki
can’t think of any. Can’t think, period.
Realising he’s being weird as fuck, and hoping his brother will put it down to
the malaise du jour, Loki scrambles back inside, all the way to his bed, and
burrows under the covers.
It… doesn’t make any fucking sense, such a reaction. It’s not like he’s never
seen his brother before. And it’s not like he hasn’t looked at him. Stared,
even. And he’s never, ever…
What was Loki staring at, indeed? Well, why wouldn’t he stare? They are so
different. Loki takes after mum’s side of the family. He’s of a similar body
frame as Frigga herself, tall and strong but still slender, and he’s the
spitting image of granny Heidi in her youthful black and white photos, boy
version. Probably prettier. Those androgynous features are very attractive on a
woman, but they’re striking on a man. (Hey, don’t shoot the messenger; he’s
just stating what he sees in the mirror on a good day). And while Thor has a
lot of Frigga’s northern European ancestry to him, with the blond hair and all,
and the height, the bulk is more from Odin’s side of the family (if said family
was on steroids). Uncle Thrym especially was another gorilla of a man too. So
growing up, why wouldn’t Loki be curious about all the differences between Thor
and him? Nothing weird about it. They both used to look and compare. Hands,
feet, arms. Hair. Freckles. The color of their skins. Other things. In the
bath. You know.
So it’s not as if Loki has just noticed his brother’s presence as a physical
being. As in, try not to notice Thor’s physicality. In peak summer condition,
with that smile and those ridiculously deep blue eyes breaking through a
glowing tan, the bleached blond hair, and the persistent clothing deficit, it
emanates in waves, it fills the room, it presses you against the walls. And
yeah, there’s no doubt what it is —pure sexual charisma. Even if you don’t feel
it yourself, you can see its effects on other people. It’s kind of hilarious at
times, like when a few of mum’s neighbour friends come over for cards and Long
Island tea or sangria in the backyard, and Thor storms in after training or
whatever, and the first thing he does is take his sweaty t-shirt off and dash
to the kitchen for a glass of something cool. The ripples of flustering and
preening it causes among the slightly tipsy, utterly respectable matrons that
see him through the French doors, like the rooster had just been thrown into
the chicken pen. You can see them thinking about it, imagining it. How does
that body feel when… Yeah. Thor has this effect on people. In-your-face
physical impact. One look at him, and boom, everyone’s mind in the gutter. And
that’s even before he unleashes the cheek, the teasing, the charm he has in
spades.
So Loki can see it, and always has. He can appreciate that Thor is objectively
hot by the aesthetic conventions of their time and geographical location. And?
Plenty of hot people in history have had siblings. Those siblings could not
have been blind to it. Doesn’t mean anything. And with a brother like Thor? You
could be blind and still fucking feel it, his aura; Loki’s sure of it. Not that
he has ever felt it himself.
He has never felt it.
No, really. He has never fucking felt it before. Ever . With anyone. Shit. Is
that normal? He can see attractiveness in people. Sometimes he’s really, really
fascinated by it. Like Sif’s face, god, and her neck and collarbones when she
got that haircut. Or Rogers from the football team, so damn pretty. That boy
Barnes has something magnetic about him. Jane’s amazing skin, and that long
neck. Yeah, Loki likes to look at beautiful people. Loves it. And animals. And
buildings. And gardens. All the beautiful things. But he has never… felt
anything about it. Beautiful people, that is. He can become entranced looking
at someone’s beautiful face, but nothing stirs in him.
Again, louder for the people in the back, because he has just come upon a
pretty fucking big realisation: he has never wanted anyone. No-one. Ever. Is…
is that normal? I mean yeah, he’s young, sure. But people at his age (and much,
much younger) have the hots for other people, right? People get crushes? People
pine and yearn and chase after people? And want to touch them? Thor was
snogging girls at twelve! (That awful barn dance in the village at Auntie
Ida’s, oh god, don’t remind him.)
And Loki realised at the time that he wasn’t getting it. That he didn’t have
that urge, that whatever was causing that fire in everybody else’s pants was
passing him by without affecting him and he just… he thought Thor was an early
bloomer, and himself a late one. But… Loki has blossomed now, hasn’t he? His
balls have most definitely dropped, he’s duly sprouted some (not much) hair in
the customary places, a nice silver timbre has added depth and gravity to his
voice. And he does get horny, and he jerks off, and he even reads porn (watch
it not so much, he freaks out about being discovered, and it’s usually so damn
ugly). He just… isn’t into anyone in particular. Nobody gives him those
feelings.
Until now.
Oh. Oh god.
He's always known he was missing something. He had never understood just
exactly what that was, not really. You can't miss something you've never felt. 
Listen, Loki reads. He reads about teenagers thinking they’re the first, the
only ones to do this that and the other, and has read that maturing is, among
other things, the great relief of realising you are not. Not the first, not the
only one, not the last. But holy fricking jesus, try and tell yourself now that
this is normal. Just try.
And just like that, Loki needs to be sick again.
 
                                     * * *
                                        
The phone burrs that evening in the drawer. Loki can't resist. He checks it.
 
Storm99 has joined the chat
 
Storm99: hey princess
Storm99:
Storm99: i guess u can’t talk that’s fine
Storm99: i hope u’r ok, and i hope u’ll tell me if u’r not, promise u will
Storm99: anyway i just meant to say it was great yesterday and u’r amazing
Storm99: you’re* bc we’re not savages XD
Storm99: thinking of you princess
Storm99: nite nite <333
 
Storm99 has left the chat
 
So it seems we shan’t be getting any meaningfully restful sleep tonight either,
old chap, thinks Loki, but hey, at least he’s not puking all over the place. He
must be getting used to the new status of things —that he’s precisely the sick
freak everyone in school has always said he was. Is this how the acceptance
stage feels like?  Anyway, it sounds like progress.
 
                                     * * *
                                        
“Not sure you should be going to school, you know,” says Thor on Monday
morning, when Loki gets in the car. He can see his brother’s blue eyes in the
mirror, trained on him. “Mum’s right, you don’t look so fresh.”
Loki does look like shit. And he feels like shit. There’s no point in waving it
off, so he lies.
“I-I don’t want to miss the chem quiz. I really need to push that grade.”
Thor’s eyes in the mirror are smiling, warm and kind.
“Nerd,” he says softly, endeared. He’s starting to pull out of the garage now,
so he misses the positively starry look in Loki’s eyes when he hears his big
bro talking to him like that. “But you’ll tell me if you change your mind and
need a ride home, yes?”
Loki mumbles yes. He huddles in his corner and agonises, those scraps of
affection rubbing some very old, deeply set sore spots better, and
simultaneously throwing salt on an array of fresh, very fucking stingy wounds.
Good god, this whole thing is turning to be an ever-worsening, unmitigated
fucking disaster.
He spent the weekend trying to avoid his brother. The stomach thing helped
because he was able to skip the family dinners. He’s been mostly in his room,
either trying to get his mind off things by playing and reading and wasting
time on the internet, or psychoanalysing himself to death and back several
times. In a spiral. A downwards spiral.
Thor was out all Sunday with his mates, and his absence was tangible, a
physical pull, the universe sucking the life out of Loki to try and balance the
sudden lifelessness in the house. And though Loki still managed to miss dinner,
and spare himself some face time with his brother, he just had to poke his head
out into the hallway the instant Thor was stepping out of the shower in a waft
of steam, with a small towel around his waist, a wink and a sunny smile for his
kid brother, and nothing else. Aaaand basically Loki’s fucked, so fucked, so so
so fucked. The fuckedest.
So his mood on Monday is basically funereal; he’s a sober mourner at his own
wake. He’s gone through the five stages. He’s overcome the denial, the anger
and the bargaining, and he’s now somewhere between depression and acceptance.
He walks down the school hallways like a zombie.
It’s usually where the shittiest things of his day happen, in these goddamn
aisles. In class he’s sort of safe, but here… Ever since he set foot in this
goddamn place, the moment his classmates laid eyes on him, they started to hate
him. They could tell he was not to be trusted, accepted, or befriended, lest
they caught his cooties, whatever they were. They thought he was, what, a bit
fishy? Gay? Hard to fit in a box, and therefore suspicious? A nerd? It’s hard
to try to go about your life not knowing why nobody likes you, what have you
done to draw people’s negative attention like that. Makes you meek, scared,
always on red alert. You don’t know when you’re trespassing, when you’re Doing
The Thing They Hate. When you feel an innocent victim in all of this, when
you’ve Done Nothing. Makes you want to bury your head in the sand, or failing
that, keep your head low, avoid making eye contact, and hope people will miss
you as you walk past and leave you be today.
Loki doesn’t feel like he’s Done Nothing anymore, and he certainly doesn’t feel
innocent. He’s sick, a fucking pervert. He’s all the things people say about
him, and then some. He has a pretty big fucking secret that goes beyond these
peasants’ imagination, whose idea of pervy and edgy is getting drunk and making
out with their bro for a dare, or getting their girlfriend to take it up the
ass. They fucking call jerking off to porn “sinning”. They’re all so fricking
cute. Loki feels like the fucking Prince of Darkness in comparison. They can
badmouth him all they like. They’ll still never even get close.
So Loki's zombie walk transforms into something else. Today he doesn’t have to
try to walk with his head high, he doesn’t avoid making eye contact. He's not
scared. Nothing can touch him.
Walking by the group of uptown girls (he really hasn’t paid attention to their
names), there’s a whistle. It comes from that tall, bosomy, feisty redhead.
From overhearing the locker room talk, he knows she’s being lusted after by a
considerable portion of the male population, but so far she’s not marrying
anyone.
“That ass, Odinson, that ass!” she calls behind his back.
He turns to look over his shoulder, surprises all present with a smirk.
“What about it?” he teases.
“Oh my god, and that voice!” she sighs, fanning herself.
Loki laughs. He himself can tell it’s a caressing, sensual sound.
“Oh my god did you hear that? Somebody hold me!” she says, pretending to faint.
She’s funny, actually. Loki struts away with a smile on his lips.
Jared and his gang are hovering around the door. They witnessed everything.
Loki blows them a kiss. There’s a moment of panic as they all scramble to dodge
it and make it clear how disgusted they are. Loki smiles in contemptuous
delight, looking down on them from miles above their stupid, pathetic little
heads.
 
He takes his chair, and there’s a phantom throb where he perhaps went in a bit
too hard on Friday. His back also remembered the strain all through the
weekend, pins and needles in his arm. It was excruciating yesterday, and the
day before, a painful reminder of what he’d done, of what a twisted pervert he
is. With every pinch of discomfort, came the stab of awareness; that he could
not pretend anymore it was a fantasy in his head, but a physical thing he had
done with his brother . But right now, after the little face-off in the aisle,
it feels… It feeling exactly like that, like he didn’t dream it. Like it was
real, something he did , something that happened. Like someone real truly
romanced him, wanted him, cherished him, and thoroughly fucked him. It almost
feels like he’s not a virgin anymore.
And it’s such a fucking relief. Fucking look at him, the way he’s sitting.
Usually stiff and ramrod straight and proper, trying to go unnoticed by
imitating an architectural feature (until he opens his mouth, of course). And
will you look at him now, manspreading like a boss, leaning over the backrest,
liquid posture. Aware of his body, aware it’s something people want, and for
once, not afraid of that.
He’s always been aware of the stares. The lusty stares of the girls who want
him, the spiteful stares of the boys who could recognise a rival equipped with
weapons they didn’t have, and the humiliation that he didn’t even need to use
them. All those goddamn stares. Made him feel tense, on the defensive. He used
to engage the resting bitchface to put them all off, and try to disguise his
terror with plain old boredom and superiority. Because terror is what he felt.
Terror of being discovered. That he was an impostor with a painfully
embarrassing secret -that he didn’t have a clue.
Ever since puberty, he felt like everyone else knew more about his own body
than he did. Because whatever they saw in it, or in anyone else’s, Loki
couldn’t see it.  He couldn’t respond to it. He couldn’t meet it with something
of his own. These people who looked at him and lusted after him, they had
experience he didn’t have, knowledge he didn’t have access to. Didn’t even
matter whether they had done something or whether they were pure as driven snow
like himself. It wasn’t about what they’d done , it was about what they felt,
and Loki didn’t. It was like everybody else was one up on him; like being the
only little boy in a party of grownups, knowing there is more to it, and unable
to see over the fence.
But everything’s different today. He now knows that he too can experience lust
for someone, and be with someone, and fucking get off on it like an ordinary
everyday human teenage boy (provided one doesn’t think too closely about it,
which he shall pointedly avoid doing right now if that’s okay, thank you very
much). It feels… fucking hell, it feels awesome. Shit, he’s feeling sexy.
It’s Sorrow who has a cyber boyfriend; it’s Sorrow who has started having sex;
but it’s Loki who’s strutting the halls like a supermodel, sizzling with sexual
energy, his head high, graced with a mysterious little smile of which only he
knows the secret.
 
                                     * * *
                                        
The Loki that comes home that evening is an entirely different Loki from the
one who left that morning. Even dad notices.
“It must have been one of those twenty-four hours bugs,” he comments after mum
asks Loki if he’s been sick again today. “He’s looking perfectly alright now.”
“But make sure you chew your food properly,” she admonishes. “You don’t want to
give yourself another stomach ache now.”
Thor smiles at him and shrugs, complicit. Mothers, eh? Loki smiles back and
looks low, hoping his bangs will conceal the fluster. He's the one impatient to
finish dinner this evening. And yeah, he’s also fucking ravenous. He wolves it
all down.
"Can I be excused?"
 
He scrambles to his room and only fricking manages to make himself wait exactly
fifteen minutes before logging on, to be a bit less obvious. He even sets a
timer. He types the message and leaves it there. And when the timer goes off
and he logs on and he sees that little green dot next to Storm99, he smiles
uncontrollably, and his hands shake as he taps on send.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey
Storm99: hey princess <333
Storm99: how r u feeling 2night
One_for_Sorrow5654: not bad
One_for_Sorrow5654:  u?
Storm99: so good princess
Storm99: i thought of last night all the time
Storm99: how sexy it was
Storm99: my head was in the clouds
Storm99: almost felt like it had happened IRL
Storm99: sweetest thing ever
 
Loki hides his face in a pillow and wants to scream, he’s so pent up.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: me 2
One_for_Sorrow5654:  all day i’ve been
 
Oh, he doesn’t even fucking know where to begin!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’ve been treading on air
One_for_Sorrow5654: i felt so confident
One_for_Sorrow5654: when i got shit from people i just talked back
One_for_Sorrow5654: i felt proud
One_for_Sorrow5654:  i think i may b giving off the vibes
One_for_Sorrow5654:  i got flirted with a lot
One_for_Sorrow5654: honestly it’s been a great day
One_for_Sorrow5654: thank u
Storm99: princess that’s so great
Storm99: i’m so happy about that really
Storm99: like, i cannot even say how much
 
(Yes, well, there is nothing ten kissy emojis cannot convey.)
 
Storm99: had a good weekend?
Storm99: no freak out moments?
 
Loki snorts, he sniggers. It’s all so absurd. It’s so absurd and ridiculous and
fucked up, it’s actually funny.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: actually i had a bug or something
One_for_Sorrow5654: but apart from that
 
Why not? Thor would never believe it.
 
Storm99: oh poor u
Storm99: wish i could have come round with a bowl of soup to tuck u in
One_for_Sorrow5654: tuck me in eh? >;->
Storm99: bby if it was RL u’d probably 've been sore
One_for_Sorrow5654: thought u said it wouldn’t hurt 1 bit
Storm99: no but it’s kind of weird for the body
Storm99: so i’ve been told
Storm99: don’t think u’d feel like getting “tucked in” again so soon
Storm99: if u know what i mean
One_for_Sorrow5654: i hear u’r a resourceful man
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe u could think of something
Storm99: bby u’r insatiable XD
 
That throws Loki off. Is he? Insatiable? Really? And why is he preening like
that?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i do feel a bit u know
Storm99: a bit what?
One_for_Sorrow5654: like we actually
Storm99: right *blush*
Storm99: did u hurt urself?
One_for_Sorrow5654: not hurt but
One_for_Sorrow5654: i did get a little bit carried away
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: what not good?
Storm99: lol no just
Storm99: princess the things u do to me with a couple of words
One_for_Sorrow5654: *blush*
Storm99: naw don’t ur too cute
 
Oh my god, Loki is going to… hnnng! He presses the pillow on his face to stifle
whatever utterly mortifying sound he was going to utter otherwise.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me what u would do if u were here
Storm99: ;-)
Storm99: u naughty girl
 
Loki’s heart begins to beat harder.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell meeee
Storm99: i’d take u in my arms we could cuddle up together
One_for_Sorrow5654: *yawn*
Storm99: lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: kiss me?
Storm99: could do yeah
One_for_Sorrow5654: hey don’t do me any favours XD
Storm99: lol
Storm99: i can guarantee i can do A LOT with only kissing
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah i’m sure you can
 
Yeah, he’s seen it.
Shit, Loki sees it now –Thor and Jane in the car, the morning kiss when she and
Darcy get in. Thor’s technique, so accomplished – the heavy lids, the soft lip
bite, the eyefuck – just a kiss, but so much to it, so intense. And Jane
melting in her seat; if it had been a hundred years back and she’d been wearing
a corset, she’d be needing Darcy to fetch her the smelling salts.
Jane.
Fuck.
 
Storm99: or necking i love necking
 
Loki contemplates those words for some time.
What the fuck is he doing. The plan. His vengeance. Jane and Sorrow and all
those girls. He hasn’t thought of it for one split second since he logged on
today. What the actual fuck is Loki doing right now. What is this about.
 
Storm99: princess?
 
For the first time in his young life, Loki is feeling the full meaning of being
in over his head. He’s sitting there in a sandstorm of confused thoughts,
desires, and needs that shakes him this way and that; what he can have, and
what he can’t; what he wants, and what he should not want, but does have; this
place he got himself into, which feels too fucking good to be real, and isn’t
real, but is, in a way? Oh, his brain is going to fucking explode. God, all the
things that are there for him to take, if he dares. They’re only ghosts,
illusions, dreams. But unlike in an actual dream, he can decide how this goes,
or he can deny himself. He can step back from this. He can end this.
Does he want to end this?
He knows that there are reasons to end this. He doesn’t remember what they are
right now.
 
Storm99: u ok? Can’t talk?
 
He's not one for Stoicism. Too much enforced isolation. Denying himself just
isn’t his style. His style is more doing the stupid thing and deal with the
regrets and the self-loathing later.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: necking?
 
 
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Summary
     A high school party. Loki knew going was a bad idea. Boy, does he
     hate being right all the time.
Chapter Notes
     Warning for homophobic slurs
Storm99: a party?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah with actual physical human beings in it
Storm99: lol
 
It’s not the first time Darcy has invited him to one of her “little do’s”, but
he’s always chalked it up to her being a very promiscuous social animal who
likes to sow the seeds of acquaintance to the four winds indiscriminately just
to see what takes, without necessarily meaning anything by it. Loki gravitates
to the Thor system, and Jane has entered that orbit, so Darcy’s tentacles
automatically reached for him too. Loki never thought about her as a potential
friend (Is that what they are?), not really. However, for the last couple of
weeks, there has been some morning chatter in the backseat of Thor’s car; that
led to sitting with her at breaks, sharing a fag now and again (don’t tell
Thor), and even arranged meetings to take the bus home together on a few
separate occasions. And in a moment of madness, drunk on the feeling of having
someone to talk to, Loki told her everything about Storm.
“Oh my god! Is he cute?” was her reaction.
(Never once had he mentioned Storm’s gender; is Loki that freaking obvious?
Anyway, who the hell cares! Because she doesn’t.)
“He’s hot as fuck,” he had answered, dreamy eyes. 
“Gah, tell me everything!”
And he had, more or less, and they’d both gotten very excited about it, and
Loki felt it all become a little bit more real. He was going to lose his mind
completely at this rate. But it just felt so good…
“So happy you finally got that stick out of your ass and put something else in
instead!” she laughed.
He’d been riding the high, and found it quite funny.
So anyway, it’s not the first time Darcy invites him to a thing, but this time
it wasn’t as an afterthought to inviting Thor as attaché to Jane. This time
Loki had an invitation all of his own. And you know what? He’s thinking about
it. Yes siree, he’s thinking he might just go.
 
Storm99: yeah u should go
One_for_Sorrow5654: u think?
Storm99: of course
Storm99: it’s good 2 c people isn’t it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk is it?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i never have a great time at these things
Storm99: nobody is gonna force u 2 stay if u don’t want 2
Storm99: but try, why not?
 
Why does that sting so much? Storm so casually pushing Sorrow into a crowd and
telling her to have a good time should be good, right? Except. Except. Except
what Sorrow really wants is for Storm to kidnap her, lock her up in the tallest
tower of his castle, all the while roaring “You are mine !” Healthy and mature
relationships, you say? (His fucking brother, Loki could answer.)
Does passive-aggressiveness actually come through in text form?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i should right
One_for_Sorrow5654: try and meet some1
One_for_Sorrow5654: some1 real i mean
Storm99:
Storm99: yeah but remember u don’t have 2 do anything
Storm99: if u’r not attracted if u’r not comfortable
Storm99: just don’t
Storm99: there’s lots more things 2 do in it u can just talk 2 people
Storm99: hooking up is not mandatory ok
 
That’s more like it. So Loki can’t help but keep pulling that thread.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u trying 2 dissuade me?
Storm99: dissuade u?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah sounds like u wouldn’t like me 2 hook up
One_for_Sorrow5654: jealous?
Storm99: lol
 
lol ? I’ll fucking give you lol.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: so what if i meet me a fine stud 2night
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i feel comfortable and attracted
One_for_Sorrow5654: and something happens
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk u tell me
One_for_Sorrow5654: what will u do
Storm99: u’r goading me?
One_for_Sorrow5654: what if i am?
Storm99: u’r a very naughty girl
One_for_Sorrow5654: maybe i need a correction?
Storm99: princess u trying 2 kill me?
 
Rolling on his back on the bedcovers like a cat in the sun, Loki watches the
words on the screen for a bit longer, taking them in.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: *sucks lollypop*
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’ve been bad daddy
Storm99: argh don’t do thatttt u know i can’t rn
 
Loki smirks. He smirks, he fumbles with himself, he grins happily.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: *pop* so so naughty
Storm99: omg bby don’t
One_for_Sorrow5654: i need you to punish me
Storm99: princesssss
Storm99: can’t go downstairs 2 dinner w a massive boner
Storm99: have some mercy
 
Loki sighs. It’s a happy sigh, though. He slips his hand out of his pants, one
last squeeze for good luck. Back to the matter at hand.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: it’s ok it’s not gonna happen
One_for_Sorrow5654: meeting a stud and all that i mean
Storm99: why u say that?
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc i’m an awkward nerd and a total fail in social
situations
 
(And because I’m so not interested right now.)
(Sigh, by the way.)
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’d like u 2 b at that party
One_for_Sorrow5654: meet u there
Storm99: that would b awesome
Storm99: i’m going 2 a party 2
One_for_Sorrow5654: wouldn’t it be awesome if it was the same 1
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: yes it would b awesome
 
That desperate sigh. Thor must have fucking heard it from behind the wall.
But then: Earth to Sorrow? Hello?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: but ur girlfriend will b there 2 right
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Yes, well, you know what? Of all of Loki’s problems right now, Jane is possibly
the one that should concern him less, so just...
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: anyway
One_for_Sorrow5654: i don’t think i will go
One_for_Sorrow5654: i really hate these things
Storm99: no u should go
Storm99: u really should
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: we’ll see
One_for_Sorrow5654: see how i feel tomorrow
One_for_Sorrow5654: gotta go
Storm99: good nite princess <333
One_for_Sorrow5654: nite
 
He lies in bed, contemplating the ceiling, his life and his choices.
For the last few weeks, he’s been living his days on two different planes, as
two different people. Loki is miserable, bored, and spends all his time wanting
to run away from reality. Sorrow is a live wire, crackling with energy. She
giggles, she flirts, she teases, she is seduced and praised and worshipped, she
gets told beautiful things, and filthy things, and she definitely loves to
exist and can’t get enough of it. For an hour or two in the evening (sometimes
more, whoops), Sorrow fits into Loki's skin better than he ever has. She's
happy.
It’s not always perfect, of course. Reality sometimes sneaks in and it stings
(like when they get a bit too close to the Jane-thing), but he’s getting really
good at quickly brushing over that kind of stuff and forgetting about it. He
remembers every chat session as beautiful and perfect, and it's what keeps him
going until the evening comes and he can slip into Sorrow’s skin again. If they
don't get to talk, Loki feels so lost and bereft, it should be kind of
worrying. But then the next chat session comes and all the pain and
concerns are forgotten. He lives. At first it sickened him. Now it scares the
hell out of him. He's depending more and more for his only source of joy on the
most impossible, most unattainable fantasy on the planet. He’d have a better
chance with James fucking Dean, dead and all, because good old Jimmy at least
wasn't a blood relative? And he might have actually liked him back? 
He surprises himself watching when Thor doesn't notice, when he's concentrating
playing a game, that array of little frowns animating his expression, when his
brow furrows, making the blue of his eyes even deeper. When he hasn't shaved
and those golden bristles catch the light. When he's acting cute with mum to
get something from her. When he's in a good mood and he hums in the kitchen
making his breakfast. When he's feeling playful and they cross paths in the
corridor and Thor crashes his shoulder with Loki's and Loki grumbles and Thor
chuckles. His mouth. His hands. His feet, even. His fucking knees. It seems
every bit of him is a source of fascination. And if Loki is nowadays always
keeping an ear out when Thor is showering, to pop out into the corridor just as
Thor walks to his room wearing only a towel and still dripping wet, it's just
because the asshole always takes forever and Loki's short for time and can't
waste a second to get his own shower. Of course that's all it is. 
(He's started to hear Storm's words in his brother's voice. He's not anywhere
near as weirded out by that as he should be.)
Anyway, what are you even talking about. He does not think of Thor that way. He
tells himself he doesn't. It’s not Thor. It’s Storm. And it’s not Loki who’s
into Storm, it’s Sorrow. It’s all a fucking fantasy, that’s what it is. He does
not… have a fucking crush on his brother. That’s preposterous. What a stupid
notion. I mean, have you even met that asshole? Like, have some respect for
Loki’s self-respect, such as it is. That would be… Just, no. Not what this is,
not what’s happening. No. And that couple of hours Sorrow gets to live in the
evenings, they’re not real either. They’re not real. Yes, they feel more real
than anything Loki does in the daytime, but they’re… smoke. They’re nothing.
Not real. None of it. It's just... In most of his teachers' rather
unoriginal phrase, "Loki's a kid with a vivid imagination." That he is. He's
always found it easy to get lost in the printed word. His mind fills in the
colors and shapes and shadows and lights. If it's a good fiction, he really
gets affected, he suffers for the characters, his mood changes with the
story... He engages deeply, and he lives the fucking thing. Like a drug-induced
trance. (But what a sweet high it is.) 
And Sorrow and Storm are a good fiction. A fucking great fiction. That's all
they are, nothing else. But, okay, yeah, he’s hooked on it, that’s true, and
that’s a little worrying. But maybe, just maybe, he should think of getting it
under control. Make it just a part of his day, not the sole purpose of his
entire fucking existence and the axis of his every thought.
What he needs is to get himself a fucking life.
 
__________________
 
Thor is humming and playing the drums on the wheel as he drives to Darcy’s
party. Loki is in the passenger seat, for once. The drumming annoys him. Thor’s
sunny mood annoys him. Life annoys him. Why the fuck did he ever decide to
come?
“Curfew is at one, got it?” says Thor. “So we have to leave by twelve-thirty
tops. Okay?”
“Yeah, heard you the first twenty times.”
“Aren’t you a bucket of sunshine tonight,” says Thor. “You’re gonna be so
popular.”
Loki’s mood is awful because he is shitting bricks. Thor could never get that.
It doesn’t happen to him. In a group of people, he seems to grow, expand in all
directions, shine brighter, and fill the room. And he just sees Loki being a
snarky little bitch, and responds accordingly. (Nice, brother, thank you. Just
what I need right now.)
They park two blocks away from the house. The walk there is quiet. Loki is
trying for slow, even breaths. He’s dolled up a little, all in black, hair
loose and painstakingly dried into soft spikes; he’s put on some eyeliner even.
“You sure about that?” Thor asked him before they left the house. “Got a
problem?” Loki snapped back. Thor shrugged with a “suit yourself” kind of
attitude. Ugh! Loki could strangle him. But he knew perfectly well what Thor
was on about. And as they approach the house, he doesn't feel so cocky anymore.
It’s easy to stare into the mirror and tell yourself “you can do it, yeah!”,
and put on his war paint and think “you’re a pretty boy, you know.” But
stepping out of the house like that, like he’s wearing a red light on his head,
asking for attention... I mean, he wants some attention, he doesn’t want to be
hiding alone in a corner the entire fucking duration of the event, but… God,
he’s having so many second thoughts right now. He won’t admit it for all the
fucking bandwidth in the universe, but he could use a friendly word. One of
Storm’s solemn, powerful “you’ll b ok” would really go down well. He has the
stupidest thought, the most absurd picture in his mind: Thor with his arm
around his shoulders. (Even walking hand in hand, like when they were kids.
—Shit, don’t.)
That’s Darcy’s door. Loki’s throat is sandpaper dry. Thor buzzes the doorbell.
“Argh, you’re here!” screams Darcy, doing a little bounce of joy. She gives
each of them a kiss and a hug, and then grabs Loki’s arm and whisks him inside.
“Twelve-thirty at the door!” shouts Thor behind him. “I won’t wait!”
The music thuds around the house.
“What the fuck is this?” asks Loki.
“The Partridge Family, aren’t they amazing?”
Loki responds with a nose-wrinkle.
“Hey, it’s my birthday, I get to pick the fucking music. Come on!”
She drags him inside by the crook of his elbow, and every now and again she
introduces him to random groups of people.
“Everyone! This is Loki! Loki, this is everyone!”
“Very useful, Darcy, thanks,” he snarks.
“I can’t believe you came, dude. I really thought the pass yesterday afternoon
was final.”
“Changed my mind. Need a bit of fresh air.”
“Well, big fat chance of that I’m afraid, maybe in the yard? Anyway, how’s that
internet beau of yours. Any more remarkable nocturnal feats of daring?”
Poor Loki: Sensation festival inside. Ghost tingles, electricity, that crazy,
overloaded enthusiasm the very thought of Storm unleashes in him. Having a
confidant makes it all a hundred times more real, the tingles a hundred times
more tingly.
“Some,” he says, totally flustered, and bashful about it, eyes flitting around
as if somebody could see and know.
“Tell me right now.” She grabs his arm and they walk. “Has he eaten your ass
yet?”
“Oh my god, Darce…” He’s blushing hard.
“Look at youuuu…!” she coos, pinching his cheek. “You’re adorable. We should
get you a dildo.”
“What?” snaps Loki, shocked.
“The dick-shaped thing that you shove up your pleasure-hole to give you nice
sensations?” she translates for him. “With long-distance things, it helps a
lot, I can tell you. You know when last summer Ian went for that student
exchange in Europe? That’s how we made do.”
He must have a seriously stupid expression on his face right now. She’s looking
at him like he is one of those vids of a Labrador puppy learning to play fetch
and tripping and rolling over his head or something.
“I’m gonna get you sorted, don’t worry,” she laughs, and kisses his cheek. “And
now I can do it legally, wahey! I can walk into a sex shop and go to the
counter and say Gimme the Biggest Dildo You Have. I’m of age! Let’s partaaaay!”
She drags him to the kitchen, where the countertop is covered in bottles and
food trays. It’s full of people coming and going, laughing hysterically,
talking way too loud.
“Here’s the booze, and here’s the food. Be smart, eh? Bit of both.”
Just then, the doorbell rings again, and she runs away without another word.
Which leaves Loki in the middle of the kitchen all alone, conspicuous and
pathetic. This is going to be such a fucking great night, isn’t it?
On the table there’s an assortment of bottles, soda pop and alcohol and a
barrel of ice with beers. He doesn’t know where to start.
“What’s it gonna be?” says a sultry voice over his shoulder.
He turns. Oh dear, it’s the foxy redhead girl who keeps flirting with him in
school.
“I have no idea,” Loki says.
“Then allow me,” she says. The way she stares at him, fixed look, way too
close. It’s as hard to hold her stare as it is to look away. Mesmerising.
She grabs two paper cups and pours ice, coke, and gin. Hands him a cup,
smirking.
“You’re trying to get me drunk?” says Loki.
“You look like you need it,” she winks.
And hers is a friendly, familiar face full of genuine interest in a sea of
threatening strangers lurking in the shadows and giving him confusing looks.
Loki is very, very grateful for her right now. He takes a sip, her eyes on him,
burning.
“I really loved how you shredded that dickhead Jared or whatever the other
day,” she purrs, leaning closer, well into his personal space.
“Uh, thanks.”
“You just do these things, don’t you? You don’t have to prepare. It just…
happens.”
“Not quite, but…”
“Shh, don’t contradict me. You’re a genius. I like geniuses. And my my my,
isn’t that a pretty smile you got. And you don’t even know it, do you?”
What the fuck does one answer to that.
Theoretically, all that pushiness should annoy him. Why isn’t he annoyed?
Relieved is what he is. Happy to let her take the lead and happy to trail
after, be told where to go and what to do. He takes a sip of his drink.
“That’s it,” she mutters. “Drink up. Up, up, up…”
Loki obeys, and finishes his drink. Smiling, she pours him another and puts it
close to his lips. Oh, to have that self-confidence. And should that fail, just
submit to it. So he does. He drinks. She whispers in his ear,
“Want to go somewhere quieter?”
The living room is hardly quieter, and they still need to speak into each
other’s ear to hear a word, but it’s certainly darker, and there’s a spot big
enough in one of the couches, between two high bros and a cooing couple, and
they take it. She’s sitting sideways on the couch to face him, tip of her
sneaker casually rubbing on his shin.
“What’s your name?” asks Loki in a loud voice. He’s feeling a bit happy now,
booze starting to do its thing.
She laughs. She’s in three of his fucking classes, he should know, right? But
instead of offended, she finds it hilarious.
“I’m Sig,” she says in his ear, hot breath caressing the shell.
“Hi, Sig, I’m Loki,” he replies into her ear.
“I know,” she’s still laughing. “Oh my god, you’re so cute! I can’t stand it!”
she sighs, and puts her head on his shoulder. Her mouth is close to his neck.
Which is nice. Really. I mean, his heart is racing a bit, but. He pats her
head, clunky and awkward as fuck.
The music has gone mellow, it’s a bit quieter.
“So cute, and so hot,” she whispers into his ear. Loki shivers. “The hottest
fucking thing in the entire school.”
Loki thinks he should say something back. It’s not like he can’t see the
attraction. She’s objectively aesthetically pleasing. Handsome face, great bone
structure, flaming red hair, and her freckles are really lovely. Also sassy,
classy, and brimming with confidence. He’s pretty sure that makes a person
sexy.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he says.
She laughs.
“What a poet. I consider myself thoroughly romanced.”
He laughs now. She’s quite funny. She kisses his neck, once. Loki startles a
little, squirms. She kisses him again, open mouth now, wetter. The sensation
spreading through his body is not completely unpleasant. To be honest, he has
no idea what it is. He’s nervous, but that’s not all he's feeling. He doesn’t
have a fucking clue where this will go as she carries on. Will he have to run
for the toilet to be sick, or… She kisses his ear, then his face. Her hand in
his hair, threading in, it’s nice, he likes that. His body likes that. He shuts
his eyes and he wishes, he prays. Please, let this be okay. Let this feel okay.
She kisses his mouth. She’s gentle. She parts her lips, and Loki parts his, and
he feels her tongue, just a slight dip, and she bites his lip, and he’s kissing
her back, her hand is on his stomach, rubbing gentle circles, and this is the
real thing, boy, this is real. Loki expects the rush of panic at any moment. It
doesn’t come. …But nothing else comes either. He doesn’t feel much, apart from
the taste of BBQ Cheetos and booze in her breath.
A silence between changing songs or whatever. Brings Loki sharply back to his
senses.
“Sig…” he mutters, pulling away as much as he can, with the backrest of the
couch as his limit. He thinks he should confess. I’m pretty sure I’m gay.
He never has the chance.
“Oh my fuck, Odinson, are you blind?” comes a voice. “That’s a fucking girl!”
Sig pulls apart, frowning. It’s Jared and his asshole friends.
“Yeah, I know you’ve never fucking seen them before, but those are boobs, you
derp,” says Caleb.
“That’s really fucking shitty, Odinson,” says Jared. “Leading her on like
that.”
“Hey, leave us the fuck alone,” says Sig.
“Go fuck yourself, Jared,” hisses Loki.
Which doesn’t go down well at all.
“Get off her, faggot!” says Jared, stepping closer, aggressive stance.
Loki stands up, anger tensing him up. They’re right in each other’s faces.
“What did you call me?”
“You fucking heard, faggot.”
Loki shoves him. Jared shoves back. Loki sees red, and charges. Throws his fist
aiming for whatever, but it smashes into what feels like a bar of steel and
never hits its target. Then a strong pull at his arm that almost topples him
back, and a big black bulk steps in front of Loki’s face, and stands between
him and the group of assholes.
“Back the hell off my brother.”
It’s Thor. His voice is cool and calm, like he’s in complete control. And he
is. A voice inside is screaming at Loki to take back the fucking situation, but
he’s frozen still, like everyone else in the room.
“Oh, big bro to the rescue,” mocks someone in the background. Thor squares them
off with a stare that cuts the snicker off sharp.
If Jared had thought to go down the mocking route, he quickly thinks better
—Thor is about one full head taller, and many, many pounds of pure muscle
heavier than him. And he absolutely won’t balk, he’s forecasting it as loud and
clear as if he was wearing a t-shirt that read “fucking try me.” He still has
Loki’s arm in an iron grip, keeping it behind his back. Loki is shaking and
panting with adrenaline and unspent rage.
“Are you fucking deaf as well as stupid,” growls Thor. “Get the hell out of
here before I break your fucking face.”
Caleb and the rest of the assholes fall into a spontaneous conga line and
stumble and scramble for the door. They drag their bro Jared with them (He was
still standing his ground, trying to safe face.)
Then and only then does Thor’s claw loosen its grip on Loki’s arm. It throbs
where his brother’s fingers sunk in.
“You okay?” asks Thor.
“Why did you have to do that!” snaps Loki, red with shame. “I was fucking
dealing with it!”
“Oh yeah, sure, you had everything under control,” scoffs Thor.
Loki feels his fucking skin tighten as he swells with burning fury and
frustration and humiliation. It bursts out of him in a shove he deals Thor
straight across the chest that makes his brother stumble back (and Loki too).
For a moment, the scene is still as a movie frame. Thor’s expression is bitter
and dark and mean. Loki is absolutely sure for a whole minute that he’s going
to get hit.
Then Thor’s expression resolves in contempt.
“You’re fucking welcome, asshole,” he says.
“Fuck you!” screams Loki, and strides off before he bursts into tears.
He whooshes past Darcy.
“Loki, baby, so sorry, I honestly didn’t invite them, I didn’t let them in…”
she apologises as he goes past.
“Leave me alone,” he barks.
The backyard. Several people there, small groups, in darkness. They’re staring.
They must have heard the ruckus. Loki, you idiot. You did not think this escape
route through.
A gentle stroke on his arm, right where it throbs still with the imprint of
Thor’s paw.
“I really didn’t invite them,” insists Darcy softly. “I don’t know who the fuck
let them in. When I find out I swear…”
“Never mind,” he cuts her off.
Who cares? The damage is done. He’s fucking pathetic. On every single fucking
level. No need to note that Sig did not follow him here. Some picture he must
have painted, cowering behind his big brother. Honestly, will humiliation in
social situations ever fucking end? Oh dear, it's about to get worse. He’s
going to fucking cry.
“I’m really sorry, baby,” says Darcy, petting his arm.
“Forget it,” he insists, moving sullenly away from her touch.
Awkward silence. They’re trapped here. On the one hand, everybody just leave
him alone already. On the other hand, he does feel better for her being there.
He’s just absolute crap at showing it. But she’s still there, not minding how
prickly and difficult he’s being. He’s so, so grateful.
“How about a drink?” she suggests.
How very fucking 1950s of her. But it’s something to do, and it’s better than
standing there like a pair of idiots, Loki sulking, Darcy pitying. So they go
for a drink, and it’s Loki’s third, and he hasn’t eaten anything,
because nothing on those trays appeals (shop-bought sandwiches and snacks in
bowls, who fucking knows how many hands have been in there after touching god
knows what. No thanks.) Bad idea all around.
A girl comes to find Darcy, mwah mwah, happy birthday, omg you got me a prez?
(a black tank top with the word SLUT in silver glitter all across the boob
area, makes Darcy shriek with delight, for some unfathomable reason). The girls
start chatting, Loki doesn’t bother learning the friend’s name or even
pretending to join the conversation. He does follow them as they do the rounds
group by group, saying hi there and stopping for a word and a giggle. He's like
a dumb, stupid shadow, but it beats the hell out of standing in a corner all
alone, broadcasting to the whole room what a loner, a weirdo, and a reject he
is.
Their aimless perambulations around the house take them through the sitting
room. The atmosphere there is different than when Loki occupied it briefly with
Redhead Sig. It’s mostly couples now. Loki has a bad feeling, and he doesn’t
want to look, he tries not to look, but still he can’t not see it. A slim
brunette straddling a jean-clad lap, a pair of big hands Loki would know
anywhere cupping her ass, squeezing, pulling their crotches close. It’s Thor
and Jane of course, heatedly making out on the exact same fucking spot on the
couch where Loki was earlier.
Is it nausea? Is it a sob? Is it a goddamn guffaw of demented laughter? No
fucking idea what it is, but there’s so much of it rising to Loki’s throat,
threatening to come out in god knows what way, right here in front of everyone.
Don’t fucking run, you fool, makes it look worse! He tries. He must have
failed, because he can feel Darcy frowning without even looking.
Thank fucking god, the bathroom. He locks the door, his hands shaking, feeling
ill. Braces himself on the sink, and dry heaves for a minute with his eyes shut
tight.
His life fucking sucks hairy sweaty fucking balls. He hates everything. He
wants to fucking die right now.
Once his guts have calmed down, he opens his eyes and sees his face in the
mirror. The black eyeliner. Not sure why, that’s what tips him over, and here
come the waterworks.
One minute, he tells himself, as he sobs miserably. You have one minute. That’s
all he’s going to allow himself. One fucking minute weeping, shedding big fat
tears, sobbing so deep he’s choking.
And that’s it, one minute gone. That’s all you get. Now you pull your stupid
fucking self together.
He runs the cold water and washes it over his eyes again and again, until the
tears stop.
When he’s done, he looks like an absolute fucking mess, and feels like crying
again. Oh no you don’t. Deep fucking breaths.He finds a brush and puts his hair
sort of back in place. He looks in the drawers and cabinets until he finds a
bottle that says makeup remover and a cotton bud. He wipes the traces of black
away. At least now he’s clear. His eyes are still red and puffy, but there’s
not much he can do about that. He’ll just have to make it a quick escape. He’ll
keep to the shady areas, get himself out of the house, and go sit on the
sidewalk for two hours beside his brother’s car until it’s time to go home.
Hopefully Thor will let him in.
More deep breaths. Wipes the expression off his face as best he can. Opens the
door.
And there is Tony Stark, leaning against the opposite wall. Nothing in his
posture indicates he’s queueing for a piss.
“You okay?” he asks.
“The hell do you want?” snaps Loki, startled.
“You look a bit green. Need me to get Thor?”
“No!” Loki barks, bit too loud and sharp.
Puts a thoughtful look on Stark’s face, but not a surprised one. Makes Loki
uncomfortable.
“What about a ride home?” offers Stark.
Loki’s first instinct is telling him to fuck off. But it’s not as strong an
instinct as usual. Maybe it’s the blissful notion on his mind to get home as
soon as possible without having to face Thor. Maybe it’s the way Stark has
offered, casual, unaffected. Loki doesn’t feel pitied or looked down on. Loki
isn't uncomfortable anymore. What he is is suspicious.
“Why are you being nice?”
Stark’s lip quirks. He thought that was funny, but not enough to laugh.
“Because I’m a wonderful human being,” he says. “And I was leaving anyway. Come
on, I’ll drive you.”
He even texts Thor on Loki’s behalf on the way out. What a godsend. Loki could
totally use a break, so he takes it.
 
A quiet ride. Stark keeps his eyes on the road, soft music on. Sounds like
Frank fucking Sinatra. He doesn’t attempt to make conversation. It’s a relief.
He doesn’t need directions, since he has been to their place a few times, to
tutor Thor in math and physics. Thor has no problems really, but with Stark’s
help, he’s managing to crank up all his science grades. He’s aiming for full
scholarship from an Ivy League school. With his football and academic grades,
he should be fine.
“And here we are,” announces Stark as he pulls up in front of chez Odinson
Brothers’ front yard.
Indeed. Loki unclasps his seatbelt slowly, thinking he should say something,
but struggling. He’s still suspicious about it all. Like, maybe there was fresh
paint on the car seat, or something more sophisticated, since Stark is a
mechanical genius and all. Was it a petty prank after all?
“Take it easy, eh?” says Stark. He seems innocent enough, though with his huge
brown eyes, that’s his default look.
“Thanks,” says Loki.
“Don’t mention it,” Starks says, and winks.
 
“Had a nice time, darling?” asks mum. She’s watching an old Audrey Hepburn film
and knitting while dad snores on his armchair.
“Yeah, awesome,” he says, sarcastic as fuck. What a thing to ask, it’s barely
past fucking eleven.
“Where’s Thor?” she asks.
“Still there.”
“Had you had enough then?” So brightly, so lightly. No a hint of drama
anywhere. It’s a fucking piss-take, adding insult to injury. He’s going to say
something really nasty and regret it later. He grunts in reply, and goes
upstairs.
Shut up in his room, he thinks he’s going to cry, but doesn’t. He doesn’t even
know what is it inside, feels like a whole lot of everything, so much of it, he
can’t even begin to let it out. He just wants it to stop.
He has thoughts about death. They’re not sincere. And they surely don’t make
him feel any better.
 
Later, much much later, he hears the street door and steps in the kitchen. Thor
helping himself to some milk straight from the carton, he’ll bet. And then
there’s that special ping that indicates Storm has logged in.
 
Storm99: princess i’m back
Storm99: u up? did u have a good time?
 
Loki turns the phone off and starts crying.
 
 
 
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Summary
     The brothers have a brotherly chat.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
He does it while Thor is at football training. He has to choose his time
carefully. He fears one sweet word from Storm and he just won’t be able to go
through with it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’ve had a lot to think about
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i think i need to stop talking to you
One_for_Sorrow5654: because i think i’m
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m def developing feelings
One_for_Sorrow5654: and that was never what this was about
One_for_Sorrow5654: i don’t blame you
One_for_Sorrow5654: you’re just yourself and you’re very sweet and nice and
just
One_for_Sorrow5654: and you’re just here for a good time and i’m not
One_for_Sorrow5654: clearly i need a lot more
One_for_Sorrow5654: and carrying this on will only end up in tears
One_for_Sorrow5654: so i better cut it off before it gets too much
One_for_Sorrow5654: although i’m afraid it already is for me
One_for_Sorrow5654: thank you for making my first time so sweet
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
 
He thought he would cry but he doesn’t. He’s cried enough.
So anyway, that was that. It was sick, total madness, but it’s done. He’ll cut
it off and back the hell away as far as he can and bury it deep, now, while he
still can. He’s going to put it out of his mind. He’s going to pretend he
hallucinated it all. Nobody will ever know just how fucked up in the head he
is. He’ll get over whatever the fuck this is, and in time it will be as if it
never happened —and it’s that last thought that drives the blade through his
heart. Never happened. Never had this. Will never have this again. Now he does
cry.
 
 
____
 
“‘M home!”
The front door slams shut (Thor always pushes too hard), the floorboards groan,
heavy footsteps up the stairs.
Loki is dejectedly lying on his bed, puffy eyes, gone past hurt into numb. His
phone pings. Shit, he should have deleted the app. And he shouldn’t check it
now, but he does. There it is, the green dot next to Storm99. Thor must be
reading it now. Loki pricks up his ears, tenses up, awaiting a reaction that
may or may not come.
The dot next to Storm99 turns red. And that’s all. That’s all there is. It’s
done.
 
At dinner, Thor is quiet. Mom and dad are talking about the garage door. It
sticks on the way down again.
“It’s these goddamn repair people the insurance company has us lumped with,”
dad is grumbling, “they have absolutely no idea. I swear this is the last time
we renew. I don’t care how cheap they are, they’re not worth it.”
“If only to save your blood pressure, dear,” mom says.
The kids just roll the food around their plates. Thor stares into space, chews
slowly. Loki watches him on the sly, thinking I did that. Or Sorrow did.
Managed to wipe the light out of those eyes. Only a few weeks ago, Loki had
been so low in Thor's radar that managing to get to him at all would have been
a triumph. Some triumph.
 
                                       *
 
It’s late. Loki’s in bed, and he should be sleeping. Needless to say, he can't.
His phone pings, and his heart jumps to his throat.
 
Storm99: princess
 
Shit.
 
Storm99:
Storm99: baby
Storm99:
 
Loki, no.
 
Storm99: i just want 2 know ur ok pls
Storm99: pls i’m worried
 
Shit. Loki, don’t. Don’t…
 
Storm99:
Storm99: ok fair enough
Storm99: one thing though
Storm99: princess i’ve been thinking
Storm99: to me this started as it always has just a way to let off steam
Storm99: no harm intended just fun
Storm99: so if u say let’s quit i thought whatever u say bc if this is not fun
for u then of course we need to stop
Storm99: but i need u 2 know
Storm99:
Storm99: this, u and me
Storm99: for me it’s not just about having a good time u know not anymore
Storm99: i care about u
Storm99: it may count as stringing you along but im right there with u u know
what i mean?
Storm99: and i guess this makes me an even worse human being
Storm99: bc i guess it means im def cheating on J and i know it
Storm99:
Storm99: shit im a fucking mess
Storm99:
Storm99: anyway i just needed u 2 know that
Storm99: that i do care for u a lot and that this has not been just some good
times and that i’ll forget about it in 2 days and move on
Storm99: i won’t i can’t
Storm99: but i’ll respect your wishes
Storm99: i’ll leave u alone now but
Storm99: pls let me know ur ok
 
Loki clings to his phone in the darkness, that little square the source of all
light.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has joined the chat
 
Storm99: princess! <3333
Storm99: bby are u ok?
 
Oh, Loki...
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:  not ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want something i can’t have
Storm99: baby
One_for_Sorrow5654: i can’t
Storm99: princess pls
One_for_Sorrow5654: i need 2 go now sorry bye
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
 
_________________
 
 
Saturday night. Loki’s been miserable all week, shuffling about like a zombie,
feeling empty, a frozen wasteland where other people have feelings instead.
He's kept his head buried in schoolwork, but eventually even Loki the Über
Nerd needs a break. So he’s scrolling through Netflix aimlessly, trying to find
something to watch, but it’s hard to find anything that appeals when you're
dead inside.
Suddenly, what feels like a sack of wet cement plummets beside him, shaking the
entire couch. His brother.
“Shift, smurf,” he demands. It's a small couch.
Much put upon, Loki slides as far as he can go (about an inch and a half),
squashing against the armrest. He really doesn't want to be so close to his
brother right now. Puts a heavy ball of lead in his stomach. He can't be sure
what it is, but his money would be on guilt, self-loathing, and anger. Which is
probably unfair and misdirected, but hey, this whole thing started because Thor
was an asshole in the first place. Loki didn't make him be a total dick. So
yeah, Loki's angry at him, alright.
“What are you watching?” asks Thor.
“Nothing.” He keeps scrolling.
"Shall we watch something?" suggests Thor.
"Like what."
“Fast and Furious?”
“No.”
“The new Star Trek?”
“No.”
“I thought you liked Star Trek.”
“Don’t feel like it.”
“Okay,” sighs Thor.
Loki scrolls and scrolls and scrolls and is fed up. He'll never find anything.
What would get through to him right now, what could possibly make him engage?
Seven hundred fucking shows to choose from, what an embarrassment of riches! As
long as you want to watch straight people doing straight things, oh the drama.
And in the LGBTQ section, coming of age stories about pretty boys discovering
their sexuality, again and again and again, usually somewhere exotic and warm,
and sigh the melancholy when the summer ends, if nobody dies first. Well, fuck
them, and fuck this. He throws the remote resentfully on the coffee table, and
crosses his arms, with a sullen scowl on his face. He wishes Thor would fuck
off and leave him alone. Why is he even here?
“Shit day?” guesses Thor (such insight.)
“Shit life,” answers Loki.
Thor huffs. Which makes Loki's scowl even deeper and grumpier. (Yeah, your
little brother, such a drama queen, eh? How about we swap skins for a week and
then you get back to me.)
“Has any fucker been giving you grief again?” asks Thor.
“Leave it," Loki warns.
“You know you can tell me.”
Loki rubs his temples and mutters something about hoping for some supernatural
entity to grant him patience.
“Loki, if they’re bullying you, you have to…”
“They’re not, okay?" snaps Loki. "They’re leaving me alone. They heard you.
They took you seriously. You saved the day. Thanks.” That's how gratitude
sounds when it's sucking on lemons.
The barbed, sudden tirade leaves Thor taken aback for a second. 
“Okay. Uh, no problem," he tries, going for appeasing. Which is unusual, to say
the least. Loki would have anticipated a snarl involving some form of "fuck
you."
In any case, Thor isn't done yet. Loki can sense him looking for the right
words and the final push to speak them out. Here it comes.
“Listen, Lo, I get that you… want to be your own man, and that’s cool, that’s
great, but… But there are other ways to get respect besides letting a bunch of
shits bash your head in. Don’t you think? And... and you’re my brother,
goddammit. If I find out somebody wants to hurt you, I’m gonna step in,
alright? End of. Not because I believe you can’t handle yourself, but because…
Fucking hell, Lo, wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
Loki contemplates his hands, woven together on his lap. The fact is, he hadn’t
for one second looked at it like that. And it shouldn't really change things,
not really. It’s brotherly duty, key annoying word here being duty. But
actually, when you put it like that... 
“I guess,” he grants, twisting his hands.
“Well, there you fucking go, then!” And Thor sounds so earnest, and
also relieved. Like this is something that had been eating at him for some
time. Hm.
“Thanks, I guess,” mutters Loki. And wants to beat himself immediately. That
was plain old shitty. He tries again. “I mean, uh. Thanks." Okay, that was also
pretty terrible. Third time lucky? (Just a whisper, but a solemn one.) "Thank
you."
At least this time he sounded like he meant it.
“You’re welcome,” says Thor.
Silence. Not as awkward as it could be, by the way.
It’s getting late; it’s dark out there already. The glow of the TV throws
strange shadows on their faces.
“Anyway, that girl I saw you with at the party,” says Thor.
“What about her,” says Loki, tensing up.
“Is it serious?”
“Serious,” Loki scoffs.
“I mean, are you dating or…?”
“No. There’s nothing,” he jumps. After a moment, he feels sort of compelled to
expand on that, to make up for the snappy tone. (Not that something inside him
is screaming about how good it feels to open his heart to a friendly ear or
anything, nothing like that.) “We… We made out. A bit. But that’s it.”
“Aw.”
“Aw what,” says Loki icily. That was patronizing as fuck.
“For shame. She’s hot.”
Loki shrugs it off. “She was alright, but we didn’t click.”
That’s not technically a lie.
“What about Darcy?” insists Thor.
“What about Darcy?” sighs Loki.
“She’s very sexy.”
“She has a boyfriend, Thor.” He uses the exhausted tone one hears from parents
who've just been assaulted by the umpteenth "why?" by their tireless toddlers.
“Yeah, but if she didn’t…?”
“Oh my god, Thor!" snaps Loki. "She’s just a friend! You know you can be
friends with a girl without having to fuck her?"
“Okay, okay, sorry.”
"Can I fucking live? What’s with the fucking third grade? Lay off me!”
His brother raises his hands, in full surrender. It's meant to appease, but
that tilt of his eyebrows is exactly the same as it's always been since Thor
was twelve, and learned to let Loki have the last word to save himself the
bother. It's basically cheating,robbing Loki of the chance to make his point,
to keep trying to win on his own merits. Leaves him all pumped up and no way to
vent. It fucking sucks.
Anyway, Thor is not twelve anymore, but more importantly, Loki is not ten. So
he grinds his teeth, closes his fists, and wills it to go.
The emptiness inside deals with that. Not even his anger lasts very long these
days. No kindle left to burn.
“So, there’s no-one,” summarizes Thor, after a moment.
"Can you please drop it?"
“It’s just, you’re a good-looking guy, you’re cool, I just…”
“I’m not interested, okay?” snaps Loki, way too aggressively, alarmed at the
raising fluster he can't control. He feels like he's slowly but surely been
pushed into a corner of his own making. 
“At all?”
“What?”
“I mean, if that redhead and Darcy are not your type…”
“…What?" His heart is hammering. "What the hell are you on about?”
“Hey, it’s fine, okay? It’s fine with me.”
“What is fine.”
“What I mean is… You know what I mean.”
“No I fucking don’t.”
“I mean…” Thor sighs, struggling for words. Not that Loki can't fill in the
blanks himself, but like hell he will. “I mean, that poster of Ewan McGregor in
your room…”
“Can’t I just like the film?” he says. It's very weak, and he knows it.
He's fucking shaking now.
“Yeah but… He’s uh, he’s very handsome."
“You think?” Loki snarks, trying to disguise his panic.
“Yeah, he’s hot,” says Thor, with a shrug meant to express nonchalance, but his
eyes are shifty, trying to read Loki's reactions.
“I can get you a poster too I’m sure," he sneers. 
“Hey, Loki, I’m trying," says his brother softly. "Throw me a fucking line
here. You know what I’m trying to say. Right? I’m saying it’s fine. It’s all
good with me. Okay?”
The following silence is crackling with Loki's panic. He doesn't even know what
he's so terrified about, but he is. Exposed, vulnerable, nowhere to hide, and
no use running or dodging anymore.
"Loki?" Thor prods calmly, as if Loki was a cat hiding under his bed.
“I know what you’re trying to say,” murmurs Loki after a long time. And the
delay alone was pretty revealing, wasn't it?
“Fine," says Thor. "Is that all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Want a medal for not being a bigot or…?” Aggressive again.
“I don’t… I’m not expecting anything. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Fine, good. It’s all okay with you. Now I know. Awesome.” And the
defensiveness behind that sarcasm was about as subtle as the Maginot line
His brother keeps quiet, lets Loki cool himself down. Oh. Loki had forgotten
that Thor actually knows how to handle him, how to de-escalate situations. He's
just not seen him try in a long while. Diplomacy takes more effort and is way
less satisfying than open hostilities, isn't it? Not that Loki is free from
guilt in that regard. They can split the blame for most of the grays in
their mother's hair equally between the two of them.
In any case, Thor is trying, and he's trying hard. And Loki wants so bad to...
Shit.
“I don’t even know,” he mutters, worrying at the hem of his t-shirt like a
timid little boy.
“Know what?”
Deep, deep sigh.
“What I am.” That was hard.
“No?”
“I’ve tried.” That was even harder.
“What, boys?”
“And girls. It just… Nothing felt right.”
“You’ve… done it?”
“I said it didn’t feel right, weren’t you fucking listening?” 
“Hey, chill.”
“Sorry, not my favourite subject.”
“I see."
The silence between them is now fraught with tension. 
"With boys, how far have you…?” asks Thor.
“I said I don’t want to fricking talk about it.”
Thor nods thoughtfully. But he doesn't really drop it, he just changes tack.
“Does it bother you?” he asks.
“What.”
“That you, uh. That you don’t know. That nothing feels right.”
Loki is practically drowning now in a feeling of dejà vu. With it comes the
real fear that it might not be very clever to talk about this.
“A little," he says anyway.
“It’s more common than you think, you know?”
“What is.”
“That phase.”
“Phase?”
“Not being sure. Not knowing.”
“Yeah? You had it too?” taunts Loki, skeptical.
“I did say everybody," says Thor.
Loki's eyes go wide.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Okay, that’s news.
“Who…? What...? Have you… ?” he stutters, his brain imploding with visuals and
ramifications.
“Have I done something?” guesses Thor, smiling genially, ignoring his growing
blush with cavalier panache. “No. Well, yeah. Kids’ stuff, you know.”
“I really don’t.”
Thor laughs.
“Just, you know. Bit of fooling around.”
Loki is going to need details. He can’t possibly articulate the question, but
the whole eyes-bulging-out-of-orbits thing surely ought to suffice.
“Playing around with dicks, okay?” confesses Thor, red as a beet now. “I was
young.”
“Whose dick?”
“Oh my god, Loki…” Thor hides behind one big hand, which is pretending to rub
away a headache. “Teammates. Fandral. Heimdall.”
“Oh my fuck!” Loki jumps in his seat. “Really?”
“Don’t go fucking telling anyone, okay?" warns Thor, but his tone doesn't have
bad teeth. "It’s… it’s private.”
Loki sits back, eyes lost in space, reeling. He's going to need a while to
process that.
“So anyway, like I was saying, it’s totally healthy and normal,” insists his
brother.
“Do you still…?”
“Uh, no.”
“Why not?”
Thor thinks.
“I don’t know. I just... don’t. I don’t look for it, it hasn’t come up… I don’t
know. I suppose it wasn’t about guys after all. I guess we were just... making
do.”
Loki’s spirit sinks about as low as the basement.
“But hey, I’m young too," says Thor. "I don’t know what will happen, right? And
you’ll figure it out too, whatever it is, when you’re ready.”
Loki is slumping on the couch, his mood darkening again by the second. 
“So they keep telling me,” he says, deflated. “But I just don’t see all these
hoards of people wandering around questioning their sexuality or lack thereof.
I feel like a freak.”
“Hey, don’t say that. You’re alright. Ok?”
The Exorcist-worthy eyeroll and the moody scoff signal Loki's clear skepticism.
“Heyyy, you’re not!” insists his brother, and he puts one heavy paw on Loki's
shoulder, a little shake every now and then, for emphasis. “Listen to me,
smurf, You Are Not A Freak, okay? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.
You’re just fifteen. Everything feels like the end of the world at fifteen. You
feel like the first and the last and the only and the worst, and then you grow
up, and you see that everybody goes through the same stuff, and it’s not so
bad, you’ll see.”
(The same stuff, eh? Oh, brother, if only you knew.)
“Look at you, at your wise old age of eighteen years and three months," says
Loki.
“Exactly, old and wise," says Thor, smug. "Listen to your big bro.” He throws
one arm around Loki’s neck and pulls him in for a noogie.
“Get offf…!” Loki twists and struggles (his stomach has suddenly turned upside
down, blood rushing fast.)
With a chuckle, Thor lets go. Loki flattens his hair, heart pumping.
They sit side by side in silence, the first comfortable silence with his
brother Loki remembers in god knows how long. It's nice.
“So why aren’t you out tonight?” he asks after a beat.
“I don’t have to go out every Saturday night, do I?”
Loki shrugs. “Guess not."
Thor rubs his eyes tiredly. Loki notices for the first time that he looks
exhausted.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
“Ugh. Boring shit, really,” says Thor. “I mean, probably boring for you.”
Loki may be imagining it, but to him this sounded exactly as if Thor was
reaching out, and is only waiting for a little encouragement. Loki doesn't want
to sound too eager. He doesn’t jump on the opportunity. Instead, he sort of
lets himself wander onto it casually.
“Try,” he offers.
“I don’t know. Girl problems.”
Loki goes into overdrive. He'll go fucking blue trying to refrain his breathing
from becoming a short, anxious panting. 
“Things no good with Jane?” he says, on the virtual edge of his seat.
“Not that,” whispers Thor, like he's ashamed to speak any louder. "Well, that
too."
Loki is going to fucking vibrate out of his body.
“Tell me,” he nudges, just a good brother offering a shoulder to cry on,
nothing more.
“It’s kind of… Can I trust you?”
(Mother of god.) “Want me to pinky swear it?”
“Cross your heart,” grins Thor.
“And hope to die.”
Thor’s grin vanishes.
“Don’t say that."
For a moment, they lock eyes, and the air between them turns heavy as lead.
“Okay, I won’t say that,” says Loki softly.
Thor breaks it up, looks away.
The mood has turned. They can't possibly leave it here, can they? Not now, for
god's sake!
“I won’t tell anyone anything,” promises Loki. “Go on.”
Thor is picking at his nails.
“There’s someone else that…” Thor turns and fixes him with a serious glare, bit
manic around the edges. “I swear if you speak of this to anyone…”
“I won’t!”
Thor examines him for a beat through a severe squint. Loki opens his eyes wide,
going for totally innocent and trustworthy. Thor's expression turns softer; he
looks exhausted again.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he says. “It’s-it’s kind of unusual.”
“Unusual how.”
“Unusual as in I’ve never even met her.”
Gasp. Oh my.
“Right,” says Loki, in a whisper to disguise he's fucking breathless.
“It’s just… I’ve been, uh, talking to someone. Online,” confesses his brother.
“Right,” says Loki. (Take it easy boy. Think of something to say. Anything.)
“Not that unusual.”
“I guess not. But…  I don’t know. I’m a mess over her. Without having even met
her. And that’s half the problem, really. I mean, how real is it when you’ve
only ever talked online? I don't even know how her voice sounds. I have her pic
but for what I know it might not even be her, right? And I’m just… I think
about her all the time. It’s like— we click. You know what I mean? Like we just
get each other? And when we talk, I feel… I don’t know. She knows about Jane.
And I feel like I’m cheating on them both. And Jane is… I mean, Jane is real,
and I don’t even know what this girl is like in real life, and yet, if I had to
choose… Shit, what a fucking mess.” He folds in on himself, hugging his stomach
as if he had a belly ache. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?” He chuckles, self-
deprecating.
Loki would like to pet his hair one hell of a lot right now.
“Slightly,” he says. He's the one picking his nails now. His hands are shaking.
“You know what I mean?” says Thor.
“Vaguely."
Thor laughs. He leans back again, rubbing his stomach. Deep exhale.
“Ever been in love?” he asks.
Every nerve in Loki’s body fires up. He gulps. If Thor wasn’t so distracted
with his own headaches, he’d definitely catch on to Loki’s nerves, dodgy as
fuck.
“I’m not sure,” whispers Loki, feeling his face burn. Thank goodness for the
dim light. “Maybe.”
“It’s a fucking madhouse, isn’t it?” chuckles Thor.
(Oh, you have no idea, brother.)
“Yeah.” Harrumph. “Ssso. Uh. You-you’re saying you’re in love with Jane but
maybe this girl…?”
“No,” says Thor. “No.”
“No?”
Thor rubs his brow, his eyes, like this is all giving him a massive migraine.
“I think I’m in love with Sorry.”
Loki’s stomach takes a plunge.
“Is that her name?” His voice is a fucking squeak.
“That’s what I call her. Sorry. Sorrow. I don’t know her real name.”
Shit, there’s a lump of soft butter where Loki’s heart used to be.
“Some name,” mutters Loki, just to avoid being completely quiet.
“Suits her.”
“Why?”
“Just does.” Exhale, more face rubbing. “Anyway,” sighs Thor. “I’m FUBAR.”
“I’d say so, yeah,” says Loki, still with very little voice.
“And she’s fucking broken up with me too,” adds his brother, with one more
bitter chuckle.
“Has she?”
“Yeah. Because she’s got feelings for me. Jesus. What the hell are we even
doing.” Huff. He definitely looks like he’s not getting much sleep, or whatever
sleep he’s getting is rather on the crappy side. “I’ve never felt like this
before. Like she's something of mine. Sorrow, I mean. Even though I've never
even heard her voice! And still, I want to... I feel like I owe it to her to
look after her. She's so lonely. And she’s out there, and she’s not okay, and I
can’t help her, and it's so... I feel helpless. And I... I don’t feel like this
for Jane. Shit, I don’t know what to do.”
Forget his heart, the entirety of Loki’s innards are now runny dairy. He’s
going to fucking cry, but it’s definitely not sadness he's being inundated
with.
And he looks at the sagging line of his brother’s magnificent shoulders, his
fierce blue eyes lost in space, and the face Loki thought he knew by heart
amazes him as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He’s fucking aching with
the need to hug his brother.
The crazy need to do an extremely silly thing suddenly overwhelms him.
He shouldn't. He mustn't.
It won't amount to anything, right? It's just... a bit of fun.
Shit, he can't fucking help himself. 
“Thor, I’m Sorry,” he whispers. The enormity of the confession leaves him more
shaken than he thought. It's not fun at all.
“What for,” chuckles his brother softly.
Gone miles above Thor's head, of course, how could it not? Loki was counting on
it. So why does he feel so... disappointed?  And then there's a deep shiver, a
horrible chill in Loki's bones thinking... Fuck, what if Thor did actually find
out? Loki, you moron.
“I'm sorry that I’m not much help,” he says quickly.
Thor returns a little smile, though sincere, and warm. The warmest, most loving
look he's addressed Loki in years.
“You helped,” he says, and elbows Loki's side. Ouch. “Was good talking without
trying to kill each other for once, wasn’t it?”
Loki smiles. He was going for a smirk, but it inevitably turns into the
softest, goofiest, sappiest fucking grin.
"For once, yeah."
“Let’s find something to watch, come on,” says Thor, upbeat, and grabs the
remote. “Hey! The Goonies! Haven’t seen it in ages.”
“Me neither.”
“Want to?”
Loki nods, smiles.
“Sure.”
 
 
Loki breezes into his bedroom about an hour and a half later as if treading on
fluffy pink clouds. He’s going to break into song in a moment, and he sure
feels like blue birds are already fluttering around his head. That was
awesome,the best time he's had in ages. They've been laughing like a couple of
idiots; they spoke the most epic lines out loud; and when Bran and Mickey hug,
there was an expression on Thor's face that almost made Loki fucking whimper. 
Lying on his bed, happy, it doesn’t even feel sick, or bad, or weird. It might
all fall on his head later and crush him, but he’ll let himself swim in it for
a little while. Right now, it’s neither good nor bad. It’s simply the way
things are. He’s in love with his brother, and that's that.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     You guys have been so kind with Asshole though, bless you.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Summary
     Temptation. The only way to get rid of it is to fall into it.
 
“Hey, snap out of it!”
Loki blinks with Darcy snapping her fingers right in front of his nose.
“That guy must be really something…” she muses.
“What? Who?”
“Your e-bae. Oh my god I punned.”
“What?”
“Oh Loki, deary. Nothing. Just… Nothing.” And she walks on, laughing.
It’s true that Loki has been a bit distracted as of late. Bit distracted being
an understatement. No points for guessing where his mind is constantly roaming
lost these days. To wit: he’s in love with his brother, which, whoa, okay, not
a minor deal, that, surely enough and more than enough to have one’s thoughts
absorbed, to say the least. But that’s not all. The whole of it is that his
brother… Oh, sweet mother of god, his brother is in love with him.
And a case could be made for refining that statement and adding nuance and
shaving some of the sharpest edges but, when push comes to shove… Thor is in
fricking love with him. Him being this playful, sweet, only occasionally self-
loathing other person he is when he writes (and thinks, and acts, and feels )
under Sorrow’s name. When he puts on Sorrow's mask, and drops the moods and the
grumps, and the armor, and the wall of silence. When he opens up and shares,
shares what he likes, what he thinks, what he wants. When he teases and flirts,
when he feels comfortable and at ease and just lets go. When he is being… well,
when Loki’s being himself.
Of fucking course Loki is distracted. And simultaneously wretched and treading
on clouds, Schrödinger’s heart! His love is reciprocated/His love is
impossible. Thor’s love is real (he loves the real him)/Thor’s love is based on
false pretenses (that the one he loves has a female body and is not a blood
relation texting from the room next door). What a mindfuck, what a conundrum.
What a roller-coaster. And poor Loki. Ecstatic one minute, shattered the next.
What he wants in the palm of his hand, and at the same time forever behind
reality-proof unbreakable glass. He’ll never get what he wants/He already has
it.
His phone weighs and strains in the back pocket of his jeans, forever making
its presence known, and he likes it like this; like an amulet or a charm, a
talisman able to conjure up another life, a portal into a place where good
things await him. The potential is there, but he’s forbidden himself from
reaching for it. Because nothing good ever came from wanting to get too lost in
fantasy land. Because every time he opens up that goddamn chat, he digs a
deeper grave for himself. For his heart, and for his actual physical
murdered body, should Thor ever find out. And yet. And yet… He misses talking
to Storm. He misses being Sorrow. He misses the dream, this illusion they’ve
cast. And all he has to do is slide his fingertip over one fucking bit of
screen and it will all exist again, it will all be there for him. Temptation
bites him harder and harder everyday.
The evenings are the toughest. When he's done all his schoolwork, and some
extra, and dinner is done, and he tries to read or play but nothing manages to
keep his attention long, and he just good for lying there moping. Time crawls.
His thoughts can't seem to go far from his goddamn phone, the fucking app. It's
a talisman alright. And it haunts him.
And sometimes he can't resist. He opens the app and looks at the last messages
from Storm. He yearns so bad, it carves a hollow within that bleeds and aches
and yowls. This is insane, you moron, he scolds himself. Insane, sick,
impossible, sick, sick, sick, it can only end up in tears. He tries to patch up
the throbbing emptiness with these red flashing warning signs. It does
precisely fucking nothing for him. Except that the flashing lights get dimmer
and dimmer every day, the strength of the warnings fading as the words become
meaningless doodles.
Acting normal around his brother, in this mental and emotional landscape, is a
growing challenge. Big surprise. If Thor’s presence fills everything, his
absence sucks all the light from the world. There is no peace. It doesn’t
matter how sternly Loki tells himself to keep it real. If Thor walks by him
with a smile and ruffles his hair, Loki’s heart sets off and hope overcomes all
his defenses. If Thor stares at him just so, Loki’s mind goes into overdrive
trying to read in it signs and clues. He knows there aren’t any, he knows it
perfectly well. That if Thor should ever get an inkling of what's going on,
Loki would not have to look for clues and signs. His brother does not do
subtle. He would just turn up in his room and beat him to a pulp. Oh Loki,
you're fucking pathetic. And suicidal. But he can't fucking help it, he looks
at Thor and he feels like he was possessed by Sorrow’s ghost. If only Loki
could possess a Sorrow body…
Shit, he just thought that, didn’t he? He just wished himself into a girl’s
body that his brother (his fucking brother) could be attracted to. Attracted.
As in. You know. Gods, oh gods, he’ll never make it to the end of term. He’ll
never make it to the summer. He’s going to lose what few wits he still has over
this. Not that there are that many left.
“Looo-keeeeeh…!” honks Darcy in his ear.
“What!” he snaps, startled, and not just a little bit annoyed.
She smiles from ear to ear, her eyes full of warmth and affection. She’s a pain
in the ass, she is. But she likes him, god knows why. And so, Loki’s irritation
when he’s around her too long builds up and dissolves several times a day. When
she clings to her arm and kisses his shoulder, he can’t help but smile, and pat
her hand.
 
__________
 
The noises from Thor’s room have gone alternatively from exalted talk to
laughter to agitated loud disagreement several times now for a couple of hours.
It’s doing Loki’s head in. Tony Stark is in there, working with his brother on
a science thing that must be as urgent and critical as Project Manhattan,
judging from the intensity of the discussion in there. Something to do with
climate and electricity. Loki bets Thor’s schoolmates have no idea what an
egghead he can be, how very into this sciency stuff he is, how excited he gets
over it. He just doesn’t look the type, does he?
Anyway, they’re getting on his tits. Not that his own work is urgent; he could
have just given up and waited for a quieter time, but he’s stubborn. He’d
rather huff and scoff and righteously bang on the wall from time to time. It’s
satisfying to obtain an immediate hush from behind the wall, rather than the
usual “fuck off, shithead!”
Anyway, the noises have changed now. Chairs rolling, steps on the floorboards,
muted chuckles. When his brother’s door opens, he hears Thor’s husky voice
mumbling, and steps down the corridor, bound for the bathroom probably. And
then more steps, and a soft knock on his door.
“Anyone in?”
It’s Stark.
“It’s open.”
Tony’s face pops through the crack in the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“May I?”
Loki shrugs.
The crack widens, Tony steps in, hands in his pockets. He’s wearing his black
paste glasses. At school, he never does. He has a kind, childish face, soft
rounded cheeks, a few pimples, bright, inquisitive dark eyes currently scanning
the contents of Loki’s room. He looks like a right nerd.
“Cool place,” he says, hands in his pockets -overly baggy, like his t-shirt.
Are the 80’s back in fashion already? “Need help with that?” He gestures at the
spread of papers and open books on Loki’s desk.
“Not really,” says Loki.
“Okay.”
It’s a very awkward atmosphere. Even Loki can tell Tony’s trying to find things
to say or do, anything, to justify being where he is. And oh my god, is he… Is
he actually blushing?
“Are you done with my brother?” asks Loki, to fill the silence. Weird question.
He flinches at the sound of it. Talking about awkward nerds.
“Uh, for tonight, yeah,” says Tony brightly, happy for the cue. “We still got a
lot more work to do, but we’re getting there.”
“Right.”
“I mean, the design stuff is mainly over, now it’s the hands-on phase.”
“Okay.”
“We-we’ll probably need to use my dad's workshop. You’ve never been to my dad's
workshop.”
“No.”
“Maybe you’d like to see it, someday?” Bright pink now. “It’s pretty cool. I
have presses, welders, the works. It’s really cool.” And he hears his own
clumsy words and hesitant tone and cringes, poor dear. He looks like he wants
to slap his own face, or bury it in the closest available sandpit.
Loki bites in his lips to contain a smile. He thinks that wasn’t so bad. Okay,
yeah, it was. But not pathetic. It was… cute?
“Maybe,” he says.
The door opens wide.
“Hey,” says Thor icily, staring from Tony to Loki, and back to Tony, with a
very dark look. The “oi oi oi, what’s going on here” is implicit, yet very
loud.
“We were just…” says Tony, and he can’t finish the sentence for some reason
(that he's been caught red-handed, maybe), and it’s oh so much worse.
“Tony wants to show me his workshop,” says Loki sweetly, little shit that he
is.
Tony blushes purple. Thor’s glare becomes a murderous squint. (This is so much
fun.)
“You need that ride or not, Stark?” barks Thor.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Uh, bye Loki.”
“Bye bye…” Loki wiggles his fingers, meets Thor’s dark glower with a blameless
smile. Oh, that protective asshole display has added ten good years to Loki’s
life. It felt amazing on so many levels, most of them profoundly wrong.
"Watch yourself," he hears Thor as they go down the stairs.
“What? What did I do?” Tony is protesting.
"Don't even," Thor is saying.
Noises at the front door.
Loki pops his head out the window. Tony and Thor are walking to the car, and
it’s late, and the street is quiet, and Loki can hear every word they say.
 
“Back the hell off, he’s fifteen,” Thor is saying, menacing.
"When is his birthday?" asks Tony as he climbs in the car. The tone is light,
as if it's meant as a joke, or meant to walk a fine line thereabouts at least.
But Thor clearly, aggressively doesn't find it funny. Loki gets a zenithal view
of his brother's furious, indignant glower. A moment later, he gets inside the
car with a door slam, and they speed away with a screech.
Loki sits at his desk, and spins slowly on his chair, again, and again, and
again. Whoa.
 
The strange scene is still on his mind when he’s texting with Darcy in bed that
evening.
 
Queen Darce: omg Stark? that nerd lol
Queen Darce: nerdy but cute
Queen Darce: & his dad is totes loaded
Queen Darce: u know that right?
Lo: don’t know don’t care
Queen Darce: minted i tellya
Queen Darce: his own jet heated penthouse swimming pool offices in downtown
manhattan u name it
Lo: why does tony live over here then?
Queen Darcy: in that colonial mansion over in palisades that looks like the
white house u mean?
Queen Darcy: no idea
Queen Darcy: why don’t u ask him out on a date and find out? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Queen Darce: u should snatch him now before he inherits so it doesn’t seem ur
only doing it for the money
Queen Darce: so he doesnt make u sign a prenup or someth
Lo: *u’r
Queen Darce: nerd
Queen Darce: see? u guys are meant 4 each other
Lo: anyway i’m sure it’s just T being paranoid
Lo: and wanting me 2 stay lonely and miserable 4 all time
Queen Darce: aw boo
Queen Darce: what i was saying MARRY STARK make ur move now get ur hands on
that booty
Queen Darce: nudge wink (double meaning. Booty. Get it?)
Lo: *rolls eyes*
Queen Darce: its a damn fine booty btw have u checked? round and plump yum
Lo: help
Queen Darce: honestly it is he’s smol but has everything one needs
Queen Darce: & those fleshy lips hmmm & his skin is smooth as a babys
Lo: give or take a few pimples
Queen Darce: let he who is without those fucking shits cast the first stone
Lo: u really like him dont u?
Lo: why dont YOU ask him out?
Queen Darce: sweetie i’d eat him for breakfast
Queen Darce: he’s too precious for the QUEEN
Lo: unlike ian the Destroyer
Queen Darce: lol he has hidden depths my boy
Queen Darce: back to stark. he seems v sweet too
Queen Darce: nerds really need to keep up their game
Queen Darce: 2 compete with the jocks i mean
Queen Darce: he can’t grab u and fuck u against the wall so
Queen Darce: he’ll seduce u with his cultivated conversation buy u flowers &
take u to a fancy restaurant then the theatre or the ballet or something & then
bang! amazing head in the backseat of his limo
Lo: (sickly emoji)
Lo: is that what ian did?
Queen Darce: lol
Queen Darce: except for the fancy restaurant and the ballet and the limo (^_-)
Queen Darce: but i had 2 teach him 2 give good head
Queen Darce: he’s proficient now
Lo: stop
Queen Darce: no i mean it he’s a wiz i almost wish 2 share him so that the
world knows what a fine teacher i am in the arts of love
Lo: pls i won’t be able 2 look at him ever again
Queen Darcy: without thinking about his face between my legs?
Lo: DARCY!!!DX
Queen Darce: u just make it so fun for me sweetie XD
Lo: anyway i bet he’s not even remotely interested anyway
Lo: tony
Lo: i bet it’s all in Thor’s head
Queen Darce: ooooooh it’s TONY now is it????
Queen Darce: tony and loki under a tree...
Lo: Daaaaarce(>_<)
 
Loki’s phone gives a buzz. The chatting app, a little green dot. Flagged
message. Oh. Oh dear. Loki’s heart is going like a drill hammer.
He checks it out, of course he does. How could he resist.
 
Storm99 has joined the chat
 
Storm99: princess
Storm99: pls forgive me i know i shouldn’t be doing this
Storm99: but i need to tell u something
Storm99: i’ve left j.
Storm99: i cant stop thinking about u
Storm99:
Storm99: sorry i said i’d leave u alone but
Storm99: it’s killing me
Storm99:
Storm99: i’ll b waiting bby
 
Loki looks at the fucking screen in the palm of his hand and the storm of
emotions inside doesn’t even bear describing. He’s flushed and overjoyed and
angry and relieved and… And unable to keep so many plates spinning.
 
Lo: Darce gotta go tlk ltr
Queen Darce: i hope this is about ur e-hunk
Queen Darce: get it bby
Queen Darce: tlk 2morrow SMOOCH
 
God, she’s exhausting.
Loki contemplates the situation again.
In the end, he’ll have to admit there was never any real fight.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has joined the chat
 
Storm99: princess! :))))))
Storm99: omg bby i’m so glad to see u
Storm99: how r u bby?
 
Loki cuts to the chase.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i never asked u 2 leave j
Storm99:
Storm99: i know i know but it was the right thing 2 do
Storm99: for her sake too
Storm99: I’ve fucked up enough already
Storm99: with both of u
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: what did u tell her what reason did u give
Storm99: the truth
Storm99: that i had been up 2 no good with other girls online
Storm99: that she deserved better
One_for_Sorrow5654: what did she say
Storm99: she was willing 2 talk it over
One_for_Sorrow5654: why didn’t u?
Storm99: want 2 have a guess?
 
Loki sits back in his bed, looks at the ceiling, and is about to have a fit of
giggles. So he got what he wanted in the end, in a way, but that was so not the
plan. Jane was supposed to kick his brother’s ass all around town, not… ask
Thor to talk it over. Thor fucked up his own relationship himself, and he
didn’t learn any lessons the hard way. That was not the plan at all, in
general. Loki’s failed on every single fucking level, what an unmitigated
disaster of a human being that he is.
But he could still teach Thor a lesson, couldn’t he? About the dangers of sex
chatting strangers online. Dangers Thor can’t even begin to fathom. He could
fucking ruin his brother’s life, exactly as he had planned, more thoroughly
than any stupid plan Loki could ever come up to, and fuck up his mind too while
he's at it. All he has to do is tell him the awful truth. There, revenge is
served. Some form of it at least. Oh, Loki boy, whatever forces are running
your life are fucking hilarious. They’ve taken a page out of the old book -how
does it go?- Give them what they want, but never the way they expect. Dear god,
what a fucking mess.
The giggles have dried up. Suddenly, none of this is funny anymore.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: idk how 2 feel about this
Storm99: u don’t have 2 feel anything
One_for_sorrow5456: no?
Storm99: it’s not about u
One_for_Sorrow5654: ? really
Storm99: i mean it’s not ur fault
Storm99: i mean it felt like it didn’t really matter until u came along
Storm99: what i was doing
Storm99: but it did matter didn’t it?
Storm99: it was me being a shit lying and cheating
Storm99: even if i didn’t want 2 call it that
Storm99: breaking up with j was my choice
Storm99: and what i did online that was my fuck up originally
Storm99: so it’s not ur fault
Storm99: u don’t have 2 feel anything about it
Storm99:
Storm99: except know that i choose u
Storm99: if that makes u feel anything
 
(Loki is totally not screaming into his pillow right now. Not even softly and
in a pitch almost beyond the range of human ears.)
 
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u know it does
Storm99: princess i’m over the moon 2 hear u
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: me 2
One_for_sorrow5456: i’ve been thinking a lot
One_for_sorrow5456: i missed u so much
Storm99: god me too
One_for_sorrow5456: all the things i said
One_for_sorrow5456: still true
One_for_sorrow5456: i can’t protect myself from this from what i feel 4 u
One_for_sorrow5456: what i feel WITH u
Storm99: neither do i
One_for_sorrow5456: it scares me
One_for_sorrow5456: it’s a lot more complicated than u think
 
God, Loki, you have to try. You have to come clean. Or come as close to clean
as possible. That Sorrow is not being honest about how fucked up this situation
really is. That she’s afraid Storm is going to get massively burned in it too,
not just herself. That she’s way in over her head, they both are. That it’s not
just for her sake, but Thor’s, that they should run away from each other as
fast as they can.
But how. How. What can he possibly say? Should he make up a family of religious
fundamentalists that would kill both Sorrow and Storm if they ever found out?
Or that Sorrow is dying from something terminal and only has months to live
and…? No, don’t even. That would be awfully poor taste, to say the least.
What? What can he possibly…?
Before he can gather the courage, or ideas, Storm storms in.
 
Storm99: i know u’r younger and i know this online thing has caveats but
Storm99: but a lot of people have found each other this way and this is how it
feels for me exactly how it feels
Storm99: that we’ve found each other
Storm99: u know what i mean
 
Oh, god. All of Loki’s gods. And a few more he’s gonna borrow from whatever
religion that has some to spare. He’s choking.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: yeah
One_for_sorrow5456: i feel the same
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: so what do we do
Storm99: idk bby
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: listen i know this is crazy we haven’t even met but
Storm99: u have no idea how bad it’s been believing i’d never get 2 speak 2 u
again
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: yes i do
One_for_sorrow5456: what u think it’s been like over at my end?
Storm99: <333
Storm99: well there u go then
Storm99: if it hurts let’s not
Storm99: simple
One_for_sorrow5456: not simple not simple at all
One_for_sorrow5456: i’m scared of this, of where it’s going
Storm99:
Storm99: me too
Storm99: never felt this way before
Storm99: maybe we can face this together?
Storm99: one day at a time? figure something out?
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: i want 2
One_for_sorrow5456: we shouldn’t
Storm99:
Storm99: what scares u so much that it can’t be real?
Storm99: we could make it real
Storm99: we could meet irl
Storm99: where u at?
 
Loki’s stomach heaves. Shit, oh shit. Time to bring up the religious
fundamentalist family. And have them live in a remote scientific outpost in the
Arctic Circle somewhere.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: no
Storm99: why not
 
He’s panting, in terror. Scrambling for an answer in his brain as his innards
threaten to turn inside out.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: early days don’t u think?
 
And that’s the best he could come up with? What a moron.
 
Storm99: hey i’m not asking 2
Storm99: u know
Storm99: i’m not asking for anything from u ok? not a single thing
Storm99: just in case u thought, u know
Storm99: that’s not the reason
 
Loki spots the chance and seizes it with both hands. Flirting.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: aw shame
One_for_sorrow5456: & here i was hoping u were just trying 2 take advantage of
me
One_for_sorrow5456: make some untoward advances
One_for_Sorrow5654: goodness me mr. storm how very shocking!
Storm99: lol
Storm99: never on the first date
One_for_sorrow5456: who made that rule someone from sex & the city i bet. fuck
it
Storm99: lol
Storm99: srsly now
Storm99: we should just sit face 2 face and find out if what we have here is
real
Storm99: before we sink in it completely and then we meet and find out we don’t
click
Storm99: it will hurt so much more if we wait
Storm99: we should get it over and done with
 
In his room, in the dark, Loki sighs.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: too late for that
One_for_sorrow5456: it would break my heart already
Storm99:
Storm99: yeah mine 2 actually
Storm99:
One_for_sorrow5456: seriously pls don’t ask me that
One_for_sorrow5456: don’t ask me to meet irl
Storm99: but why
One_for_sorrow5456: bc it would ruin everything
Storm99: ruin it how
One_for_sorrow5456: just trust me it would
One_for_sorrow5456: i mean there’s nothing i’d like more but
One_for_sorrow5456: but it’s just impossible
One_for_sorrow5456: i really wish it wasn’t
Storm99:
Storm99: i’m willing to travel 2 u and keep it a distance thing if u want
Storm99: and i’d b faithful i fucking swear on my mom’s life i would
Storm99: i swear it bby do u believe me?
Storm99: i know my track record is dodgy at best but
One_for_sorrow5456: it’s not that
Storm99: do u believe me?
One_for_sorrow5456: it’s not the point
Storm99:
Storm99: i looked it up after u turn 16 it’s legal in my state
Storm99: when’s ur birthday?
 
Loki snorts at his brother's magnificent, shameless hypocrisy. Only a couple of
hours ago he was going to kill Tony Stark over something like this.
But he's not in the mood for a laugh. Instead, a deep, deep sigh, and a growing
urge to weep.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: pls can we just
 
Suddenly, an idea. And a brilliant one, if he may say so himself.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: this is still hard 4 me
One_for_sorrow5456: the physical part i mean
One_for_sorrow5456: maybe if it gets too real i’ll clam up
One_for_sorrow5456: it feels good now but if we push it
One_for_sorrow5456: what if it gets too much
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: i thought u were feeling more comfortable with me
One_for_sorrow5456: and i am but
One_for_sorrow5456: 
One_for_sorrow5456: can we forget about it and keep things as they are
One_for_sorrow5456: please
One_for_sorrow5456: it means so much 2 me what we have now
One_for_sorrow5456: i don’t want to spoil it
One_for_sorrow5456: don’t want 2 lose it
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: please
Storm99:
Storm99: of course
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: u mad?
Storm99: no bby not mad
Storm99: disappointed frustrated but i totally understand
Storm99: and u’r the boss here u’r always the boss ok?
Storm99: whatever u say goes
Storm99: always
Storm99: i promise
 
Loki chokes, and does the fair thing.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: if u’r not happy about this we can quit
Storm99: no
Storm99: no i don’t want 2 quit
Storm99: it’s the last thing i want pls bby
Storm99: sorry i got so pushy
Storm99:
One_for_sorrow5456: this won’t change it’s fair that i warn u and u understand
One_for_Sorrow5654: the meeting irl thing
One_for_sorrow5456: it can’t change
Storm99:
Storm99: yeah i get it
One_for_sorrow5456: i'd understand
One_for_sorrow5456: u had an actual gf that u could actually be with and it
wasn't enough 4 u
One_for_sorrow5456: u’r really ok with it?
Storm99:
Storm99: i have 2 be
Storm99: i love u
 
Loki drops the phone and covers his mouth with both hands. He was not ready.
 
Storm99: if that’s all i get that’s all i get
Storm99: and i don’t lose hope that things may change 4 us in the future not
gonna lie about that
Storm99: but now is now
Storm99: and if it never happens
Storm99: if i never get 2 meet u
Storm99: it will still b worth it
Storm99: i just know i don’t want 2 b without u
 
Loki will in a minute hug his fucking phone tight to his chest and kiss it
tenderly. He won’t be able to help it.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: i love you too
Storm99: <3333333333333
Storm99: thank u bby
One_for_sorrow5456: thank u?! wtf storm?
Storm99: lol
Storm99: i don’t know what 2 say
One_for_sorrow5456: then don’t say anything ;)
Storm99: bossy
One_for_sorrow5456: u have no idea
Storm99: lol
One_for_sorrow5456:
Storm99:
One_for_sorrow5456: ok
One_for_sorrow5456: so what now
Storm99: lol
Storm99: what u said we keep it like this
Storm99: can we do that bby?
Storm99: just talk if u want
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: i don’t want just 2 talk( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Storm99: XO
Storm99: u’r gonna b the death of me u know
One_for_sorrow5456: u want me 2 stop? the teasing i mean
One_for_sorrow5456: asking srsly
One_for_sorrow5456: don’t want 2 torture u or anything
Storm99: no it’s fine
Storm99: it’s ok more than ok
Storm99: i like doing this with u
One_for_sorrow5456: “this”?
Storm99: oral sex(^_-)
 
(Loki feels a shiver from the roots of his hair down to…)
 
One_for_sorrow5456: more like typed but
Storm99: heh
Storm99:
Storm99: actually what i want
Storm99: what i’d really want rn
Storm99: i wish i could hold u
Storm99: just hold u
Storm99: i want that so much
 
Loki’s tears start falling hard, even as he’s smiling so much his lips are
fucking straining. He looks towards the wall between his brother’s room and
his, and a sob comes from deep inside, and nearly shatters him.
 
One_for_sorrow5456: i wish u could
Storm99: <333
One_for_sorrow5456:
One_for_sorrow5456: what else do u really really want rn3;‑>
Storm99: lol
One_for_sorrow5456: tell me where ur hands are
Storm99: omg princess (#*_*#)
Storm99: where are urs?


***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter Summary
     Loki hates his profile pic in the chatting app. Thinking out of the
     box to solve that problem leads to new, rather exciting territories.
 
“Knock knock, are you decent?”
Blanching, Loki scrambles to find his clothes, in a state of absolute panic.
He’s so flustered it takes him three attempts to put his feet in the right leg
of his pants. Terrified, he realises his t-shirt is inside out, and that his
mom is waiting, and that every second she is kept waiting makes everything so
much worse, and that the t-shirt will have to stay as it is, nuts. And now he
has to unbolt the door, which makes it all the more obvious that, indeed, he
had bolted it, which screams guilty! to high heaven. His forehead is covered in
cold sweat, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He ends up stuffing
them in his pockets, and standing awkwardly in the middle of the room like a
lemon.
“C-come in!”
Mom pushes the door open with her elbow, a basket of pressed and neatly folded
clothes in her arms.
“A hand, please?” she asks.
Loki rushes to relieve her of her burden. His pile is on the right. His hands
are trembling when he picks it up and sets it on the bed. All the while, mom
has a vague, barely there smile, and sparkly eyes. She doesn’t look at him when
she muses,
“Do I want to know?”
Blushing deep purple, but soothed on some level by the non-judging, humorous
tone in her voice, he just says,
“Probably not.”
She chuckles softly.
“Don’t leave them hanging around, will you?” she says, picking up the basket
again and gesturing with her head to the clothes.
“No, mom.”
One last sweet, fond, mischievous look from the door, like he was still the
chubby five-year-old who pocketed sweets to pig out in the middle of the night
and thought he was fooling everyone about it. Loki rolls his eyes dramatically
as she shakes her head slowly and leaves, with a grin.
 
He pushes the door shut after her. And when he thinks she’s far enough, he
bolts it again, with a deep, muffled sigh of relief, careful not to make one
noise. That was close.
He grabs the phone, the murder weapon, where all the evidence is contained.
He’s still shaking when he opens the photo file. There he is, posing naked in
all his pasty, spindly glory. Two thirds of him actually, never above the
shoulders. On show, mainly his skinny butt, part of his legs. He’s tried many
configurations, looking for the right angle. Not good enough, just not good
enough. He still looks like a boy-willowy, androgynous, but definitely a boy.
That won’t do at all.
He plummets on the bed, deflated. Huff. He’s been trying for two hours now.
He’s running out of ideas.
It’s just… Fucking look at this —this being his profile in the dating app, the
pic of Miss Honeytrap he pulled out of some stranger’s Instagram. So cute and
perky, so light, such a nice, likeable girl. Neither too modest nor too
prudish, playful with that fucking dog of hers, having a good time, and
probably with lots of friends and a great life. Loki hates her. Hates her to
bits. He can’t fucking stand the sight of her. He hates that it’s her face and
her body Storm is picturing in his head when they… And it grates on Loki more
and more every day. He’s positively chafing at this point. He imagines Storm
with his phone in one hand and his dick in the other while looking at that
fucking picture, and he wants to fucking kill. Maim. Destroy.
So he needs to give Storm something else to look at. But what? What might
constitute a suitable replacement for Miss Honeytrap? It has to be something
that manages to attract, and keep, Storm's attention. As in, a bit of skin.
More specifically, Loki's skin. Gulps.
For his first attempt, Loki took his t-shirt off and took a photo of his
middle while sucking his belly in, hoping for a waistline. Terrible idea,
terrible. Even after shaving his happy trail, that's a boy's stomach through
and through. And what's worse: his belly button. They’re pretty unique,
individual things, aren’t they? What if Thor recognized it?
So try again, this time from the back.
Slightly better. It’s smooth enough, and though lean and toned, it's not overly
muscular. He tries a few poses, which is how he finds out that sticking his
butt out and arching his back makes him seem a tad more curvy. But the jeans
are really getting in the way of the whole effort somehow. They look like boy’s
jeans. No idea what the difference is, but they do. So Loki kicks them off.
Which means, of course, that he needs to drop his underwear too. More gulps.
And this is how Loki ended up stark bollock naked in the middle of his room,
trying to take one single passable naughty selfie, when his mom knocked on the
door.
He examines the results of his efforts with frustration. Damn, if only his arm
was two meters long, or if only he had a stupid selfie stick. In the mirror he
manages something more or less convincingly feminine, but in the pic it just
refuses to happen. What do you know, Loki is too manly.Ain’t that a laugh.
In any case, they're not good enough. In no way are these sexy or suggestive
enough. They're simply no match for the charming Miss Honeytrap, damn her. Oh,
how Loki loathes her. Cursed be the day he found her fucking Instagram. 
 
He doesn’t hear the doorbell. He does hear his mother bellowing from
downstairs.
“Loki! Darcy’s here!”
“Be a minute!” he hollers back.
He throws on the clothes he picked earlier when Darcy called to suggest a trip
to the mall. Bit of hair fluffing, quick appraisal in the mirror—acceptable.
Then he hops down the stairs, with only one quick look at his brother’s bedroom
door. Which is shut, even though he is not in there. He’s at Stark’s, again.
He’s been spending a lot of time over at Stark Sr.’s workshop, intent on
winning at the science fair this year with their ultra-secret project. (And
Loki is supposed to be the nerd in the family, oh my god.)
It has brought with it a sharp decline in the brotherly soirées they had been
having as of late, not enough of them to become routine, but certainly enough
to create a craving. It’s back to normal really, when one thinks about it, but
it sucked then and it sucks now just the same.
It’s a bit of a mindfuck, actually, for Loki. Because Thor doesn’t have time
for his kid bro, but he certainly has it for Sorrow. He scrapes up at least an
hour almost every evening to chat with her, and more than chat if the slightest
sliver of a chance should arise. So it comes down to a situation in which Loki
could be jealous of himself. Wot…?
And you know what, yes it’s a mindfuck, but does Loki even care about being
split in two at this point? Does he agonize about the cruel dichotomy, torn
between his kid brother self and his cyber girlfriend self? Nah, fuck it. Take
it as it comes, be grateful for it. And does he obsess much about how fucking
crazy and sick everything is anymore, about the incest and the pure insanity of
it? Uh, not really. And he sometimes sort of thinks he should be at the very
least alarmed, but he isn’t. The guilt, the shame. He just isn’t feeling it.
What can he do about it? Are there pills he can take for that? Should he grab a
belt and self-flagellate after every chat, just to make sure he never forgets
how fucked up this is, and suffers appropriately for it? Listen, if the one
thing is outrageous and demented, so is the other. He’d rather not fucking
suffer right now, thank you very much. So he just goes with the flow, and if
this happens to end in a cascade falling off the side of the earth, so fucking
be it. He has stuff to do before they get there.
 
Saturday morning at the mall with Darcy. Busy, but tolerable. Darcy totally
neeeeeds new pants, they have a sale at the make-up shop, she wants a pair of
platforms to go with her skinny jeans, she saw this awesome t-shirt the other
day with a massive skull made with sequins, she absolutely has to spend this
two-for-one voucher she got for nail polish because it expires this weekend...
“Yo! Earth to Loki!”
Loki blinks awake with Darcy snapping her fingers one inch away from his nose.
It’s a bad habit she’s into.
“What! I was listening!” he protests.
She’s shaking her head with a fond, patronizing smile on her face.
“You’re hopeless, you know? Kaput. End of. This guy Stormy-boy has done you in
good and proper. I mean, imagine you did actually meet him in person? RIP Loki,
poor Loki no mo’.”
Loki doesn’t say a word, but the silly grin spreading on his lips is pretty
eloquent.
“Anyway, like I was saying.” She resumes her extended, emphatic summary of her
plan of action for the day, interspersed with snippets of her latest spat with
boyfriend Ian, and they walk on.
And all of a sudden, Darcy grabs his arm.
“Oh my god, I’m deaded, look at that!”
It’s a female underwear shop. As in, a lingerie shop. The kind of establishment
Loki’s made a point not to look at all his life, lest people should think he
was a pervert (hah, the blazing irony!). Darcy’s looking in awe at the shop
window display, where a gray, hairless, featureless, size 0 mannequin models a
black ensemble that blends wet-look fabric with lace and straps; she drags Loki
into the shop tugging with determination at his arm.
 
“So? What do you think?” says Darcy two minutes later, holding the two-piece
set over his clothes in front of her in the mirror, bra and knickers. “It says
kinky but classy. It’s so me I’m about to have an out-of-body experience.”
Loki chuckles; he actually likes her quite a bit, to be fair. She looks in the
mirror, probably picturing herself in those knickers and bra, and Loki finds
himself doing the same, envying for a moment his friend's abundant, sinuous
curves. She complains often that they don’t make clothes for her, and she's
probably right, but when she does find something that fits, she looks like a
1950's Hollywood starlet, all woman.
“Yeah, nice,” is all Loki has to say.
“Loving the enthusiasm,” she says. “Oh, there, the fitting rooms.”
While she tries the thing on, Loki finds a seat next to another two stranded
male sidekicks, also trying to seem nonchalant and unaffected in the presence
of so many feminine undergarments. Why are they so terrifying? The three of
them look positively intimidated.
Loki's found a safe place to put his eyes in the pyjama section, just in front.
But hanging beside the Snoopy and Minnie Mouse comfy cotton sets is a display
of… what’s the name? Negligés? Lacy, semi-transparent little things, some
utterly sheer, others with tactical coverage, some paired with vintage-
style silky shorts, others paired with skimpy pants, others with barely-there
thongs. Oh so enticing, so suggestive, so feminine.
Wait.
“Nah, I don’t think I’m gonna buy it,” Darcy is saying, emerging from the
fitting rooms in a flurry. “The wet-look part is pure plastic, no elasticity at
all, it sticks like cling wrap; if I sweat, I’m going to lose skin peeling it
off. And the straps dig in and make my hips look like a fucking muffin. …What
are you staring at?”
Darcy follows his eyes. Loki looks away too late and blushes in three tones.
“Oh, nice. Not my style I don’t think, but…”
Loki’s fluster must have reached radioactive levels now, because look
at Darcy's knowing, all-seeing smirk. She's quick as a whip, this one. When it
comes to Loki, practically a telepath. It's scary.
“That dark green set,” Darcy whispers. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Nice, yeah,” says Loki, playing the fool.
“Is Stormy-boy into this too? Hmm, I love me a kinky one.”
“Shut up,” mumbles Loki, steam about to come whistling out of his ears like a
boiling kettle.
Darcy perambulates casually to the display of lingerie. She picks size L off
the rack, eyes Loki slyly, picks M. Holds it over herself in the mirror. Loki
is right behind her.
“It’s super sexy,” she says.
“You think?” mutters Loki.
“He’d go completely out of his mind if he saw you in this,” she whispers,
barely moving her lips.
Loki imagines himself wearing that. Correction, tries to imagine himself
wearing that. Can’t.
“Stockings,” says Darcy with determination. “We’ll need a pair of stockings
too, and a garter belt of course.”
“Oh my god, Darcy…” he grumbles, rubbing his very hot, very red face.
“Yes? Problem?” she challenges, haughty.
“Surely you can’t be serious, I mean...”
“Of course I’m serious. And don’t call me Shirley.”
She winks at him and gets to work.
 
“Trust me,” she’s saying half an hour later, as she empties the contents of
their shopping basket on the counter for Loki to pay. There is that dark green
chemise with black velvet trimmings and lace inserts, a skimpy thong, one pair
of stockings, and a garter belt.
There have been a couple of interesting moments. They’ve had to request a
different size from a shop assistant’s who was adamant that L was the right
size for Darcy.
“It’s not for me“, "It’s a present,” they had both uttered nervously at the
same time, managing to look suspicious as fuck, even though their stories
matched without even trying. The shop assistant had looked quite cagey, but
they don’t pay her enough to deal with this shit.
“Well, keep the receipt then, in case she needs to change it. The bottom parts
are non-returnable, sorry, so please make sure you get that right.”
Darcy smiled pleasantly, Loki’s released and internal pheeew.
 
Next stop, Darcy’s place. To be precise, Darcy’s narrow walk-in closet.
“Come oooon, let me see you, boo!” she’s calling. “I’m sure you look perfect.
Come on, get out here.”
There is no mirror in here, so all Loki has to go on is what his eyes can
reach. The green chemise clings to his body, black trimmings in vertical lines
to recall the shape of a corset; nice and soft, sure, but so unlike anything
he's ever worn, he doesn't even know how he feels about it; as for the black
thong, it digs in the crack of his ass, making its presence known at all times.
Finding the way to arrange his junk so that it wouldn't pour out all over the
place was not easy, lemme tell you that; as for the stockings, he thinks he's
ripped them a bit pulling them up, and getting the back seam anywhere near
central has been a fucking nightmare; finally, attaching the garter to the lacy
top of the stockings was fiddly as fuck, and took him another age and a half,
and a bad case of mounting frustration. All in all, he feels uncomfortable and
completely ridiculous.
“Loki, either you get out here now, or I'm bringing you a bowl of food and a
litter tray and from now on I'm calling you Mr. Fluffy.”
“Okay, okay, hang on...” he grumbles. A huff of resignation that comes from a
place beyond hope and self-respect, and he opens the door. Arms around himself,
uselessly trying to cover up, he shuffles out.
Darcy’s bottom jaw drops and her eyes open wide. Loki rubs his face,
embarrassed. He waits for the laughs.
“You bastard,” she gasps. “You asshole,” she gasps some more. "You son of a..."
“What?” says Loki timidly, concerned now.
“You look like a fucking supermodel, that’s what!” she exclaims, bounding for
him, getting him to turn this way and that. “Not one fucking speck of cellulite
of course, and that butt is so fucking unfair. I hate you!” All of which she’s
saying with an ear-to-ear blinding grin, which to Loki is both appeasing and
disturbing. Appeasing because she doesn’t seem to really hate him, and
disturbing because it’s strongly suggesting that he has finally driven her
barking mad.
“So it looks good?” he asks. Not ashamed to admit he needs the reassurance. A
squee is not enough right now. He needs words. Lots of them, as unambiguously
positive and enthusiastic as possible.
“Good? Good?” she repeats, indignant. “He’s going to burst a goddamn blood
vessel, your boy! You need to send him photos! He’ll totally fricking lose it!”
Loki blushes and finally dares to assess himself properly in Darcy’s full-body
mirror. He's still as broad and muscular as he was this morning (that would be
thanks to all the swimming) but the chemise changes everything. The swirls of
the lace, while insinuatingly see through, disguise his boyish stomach. The
vertical trims that resemble a corset fool the eye into following a curve that
isn't there. Even his shoulders look softened or more slender somehow, just
because the lacy straps of the chemise run across them.
“Your ass is to die for. To die for, I’m telling ya. I mean, here I am, dying.”
Loki turns around and examines how the skimpy thong frames his butt, somehow
emphasising the roundness and the fleshiness over the tight, pert qualities
that are more apparent when he’s wearing briefs or tight boxers instead. And
the garter belt breaks the line between his legs and his torso and seems to
create hips, and the stockings soften his bony knees and sinewy calves, and if
he raises his arms, sucks in his stomach, arches his back, and sticks his bum
out like he tried this morning… Oh. My. God. Yes. It could pass.
“You look so fucking hot in this, I hate you,” says Darcy.
Loki smirks at the sexy boy in the mirror.
“Darcy, (harrumph,) do you think you could… help me take some photos?"
 
The closet door is a suitable background. Creamy white, bathed in the soft
light of the afternoon that comes in through the window, not too harsh. And
with no identifiable features,adds Loki in his head. Even if Thor had been in
this room, which is doubtful, he wouldn’t recognize that bit, because it
doesn’t stand out in any way. It’s perfect.
“H-how do I… No, wait, not the face!”
“Why not? He’s seen your face, hasn’t he?”
Loki goes purple.
“Yeah but, but… ever heard of hacking accounts? Revenge porn, all of that?”
Quick thinking, clever boy. Points to you.
“You think he’d do that?”
“No, but… But I’m sure neither did all the people this has happened to. Better
safe than sorry.”
“You’re the boss, clever boy,” she says, and winks.
 
(Fifteen minutes later.)
“Sweetie, you need to relax a bit more. You seem very uptight.”
Loki huffs, exasperate, paralyzingly self-conscious. This isn’t working. Whose
fucking idea was this? What the hell had he been thinking?
“I’m trying,” he protests weakly, grouchy, frustrated with himself.
“Okay, boy. We're going to crack this, or my name isn't Darcy Lewis. Come on,
deep breaths. That’s it, in, out, in, out. Now shake your hair. Seriously, do
it, a massive shake, come on. See? Channel your inner Tina Turner. Now put your
hands on the door and spread your feet, like I was going to give you a shake
down. Do the thing with your butt, I want to see it in all its glory. Now,
still. Deep breaths. Think Madonna. Think Lady Gaga. Think Jessica Rabbit. Here
we go.”
And so it goes for a while, trying different poses. He follows her instructions
as best he can.Now one foot on the bed, as if you were doing up your stockings.
Now lift your arms, arch your back, hold your hair up, that’s it. Now hand on
your waist, cock your hip, cross your legs at the ankles. Now try on my heels.
Bend over in half, hold your ankles. Do it, trust me.
“You are a seriously hot woman, Loki,” says Darcy. “You make a hotter lingerie
model than a Victoria’s Secret angel. Poor Stormy-boy is going to die. Let’s
take some on the bed. Wait, I have these black sheets…”
And that is how Loki ends up posing on Darcy’s bed in lingerie, trying to find
a good balance between teasing and tasteful postures. On his back, knees up,
crossing legs. On his front, feet in the air; crossing his ankles. On his side,
one leg forward, propped on one elbow, stroking his thigh. Now from the back,
now from the front. Then on all fours, from different angles.
“Ooooh, you’re really getting into the spirit now, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, bright red, nowhere to hide his growing enthusiasm in
that scrap of fabric. It's this fucking posture, Darcy finish up already...
 
“So, you’re going to send Stormy-boy some of these?” muses Darcy when they’re
sitting on the bed side by side, heads cozily together, looking through the
yield of their little photo shoot.
“I’m not sure,” he lies. (He is, he totally is. Mission accomplished, and how.
Miss Honeytrap, you are so fired. Not fired, you have been annihilated,
obliterated. Bite the fucking dust, girl. Watch these and cry.)
“Anyway, this reminds me,” she says, standing up. She has a rummage in her
closet. “Happy birthday, sweetie,” she says when she returns, holding a small
oblong box wrapped in deep red satiny paper.
“It’s still two weeks away.”
“I was going to save it, but I think you could really use it now, when you show
these to Storm.”
He frowns, utterly suspicious.
“Don’t you want it then?” she pouts.
“Okay, gimme.”
Loki unwraps the parcel with wariness. He has a bad feeling…
“What… the fuck?” His eyes are bulging out of his orbits, his cheeks are
burning red. (Where is his fucking cool? How very embarrassing.)
Darcy sits beside him on the bed, takes the box from him to open it up and
reveal its contents.
“It’s specially designed for beginners. There’s a thinner one, to get used to
it, and when you’re ready, you move on to this one.”
Loki is gaping like an idiot. An awfully flustered idiot. Truth of the matter
is, he had never seen one of these in real life before.
“What do you think? Pretty, huh?”
A pair of bright pink silicone dildos.
“I went with a realistic shape. I thought if you’re going to pretend it’s you
know who, realistic was better. The color… Well, I couldn’t afford the really
well-finished ones, so I went for funky. Top-quality silicone, though. Look
after them and they’ll last you for years, no matter how much you use them.”
She wiggles her eyebrows.
And realistic they are. Loki finds himself holding a cock in each hand, one
thinner, the other thicker and longer, with their bulbous heads and veins and
ridges, nice, pleasant weight, yielding but firm to the touch.
“Then this bullet goes in here, if you want them to vibrate. I’m even throwing
in the batteries and the lube, because I’m generous like that.”
She illustrates with the thinner dildo. It starts buzzing in Loki’s hand. Loki
drops it as if he’d been bitten. She chuckles. He’s still speechless.
“You don’t have to say anything, sweetie,” she says, putting both dildos back
in their box, and patting his back like a chump. “You can thank me later. And I
mean you will be thanking me later.” She kisses his cheek. "I hope they bring
you lots of happiness. To you, and to Storm."
 
 
“Did you have a nice day, darling?” says his mom from the kitchen when he gets
home.
Loki mumbles a reply while he rushes by directly up to his room, with a fixed,
single purpose: find a fucking place to hide his extremely secret cargo, two
silicone dildos and a phone chocka-full of nudes in lingerie.
He brushes past Thor on the stairs, their shoulders clash.
“What’s up your ass?” he snaps.
How Loki cringes (always so on point, brother.)
He shuts and locks the door and looks around his room in a panic, as if his
backpack contained a time bomb that was going to self-destruct if he didn’t put
it away in the next ten seconds. Nowhere seems safe enough, hidden enough,
inaccessible enough.
In his mind, the rest of Darcy’s sales pitch still goes on and on. “These are
suckers on the base, so you can stick them to the bathroom wall, or the floor,
or a chair, and you can fuck yourself on them. And you can practice your
fellatio skills too. Your boy will fucking lose it watching you make sweet oral
love to these babies. Are you guys Skype-ing yet?”
 
“Dinner in five minutes! Come set up the table!” Frigga’s voice from
downstairs. “Thor?”
“Yes, mom!”
“Loki?”
“I-in a minute!” he stutters.
In the drawer they go, under some t-shirts. He’ll have to find a more secure
location later.
(Stick them to the bathroom wall and fuck yourself on them… Start with the
thinner one, get used to it, and then when you feel more comfortable…) Fucking
hell, not now. He adjusts himself, and tries to think of less exciting things.
It's really, really hard. Ugh, his choice of words.
 
As he walks in and out of the kitchen with plates and cutlery, keeping his face
low and screaming internally at himself to stop thinking about dicks and dildos
and erections and cucumbers and zeppelins and courgettes and bananas and
fucking aubergines, he hears Thor ask,
“What’s for dinner, mom?”
“Sausage casserole!” she announces. “Are you okay, Loki? You look pale...”
 
 
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Summary
     Loki has stuff to show his brother.
Chapter Notes
     This is for Golikethatcat, with lots of love.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
It’s at times like these when you really notice the age difference between mom
and dad. Saturday afternoon. Mom is at the gym, and dad is slumped like a sack
of wet cement on the couch, head fallen on his chest, snoring.
In theory, Saturday afternoon is father-son time; Odin and Thor are supposed to
be bonding over collective enjoyment of televised contact sports. And sure,
Thor is right beside him, pigging out on nuts from a big bowl, chugging the one
beer he’s allowed on weekends. Not sure how much bonding can occur when one of
the parts is passed out, and the other one’s attention is mostly on his phone
(socializing with his mates, making arrangements for this evening), but that’s
the idea, and for a few months now, father and son had stuck to it faithfully.
It’s the thought that counts, one would guess.
As for Loki, contact sports are not his thing. The time will come when his
departure for college will start to loom, and mom will probably want to insist
on bonding activities of some kind with their rather remote father, but for
now, he is usually not expected here on a Saturday afternoon. But shutting
himself up in his happy cocoon upstairs is not as enticing as it used to be
when Thor is in the house and outside of his own room. Yes sir, Loki is getting
more fresh air lately. He spent two whole hours in the garden this morning
pruning the hedges while Thor mowed the lawn in a tight white tank top. Mom was
shocked. Nobody had even had to ask him! The hedges were in not such a bad
shape, they could have waited another week. Loki could not. And at the end of
it all, the two brothers sat on the porch with a coke in a comfortable silence,
exchanged a couple of jokes. It was amazing.
Loki has his phone with him, of course. I mean, he pretty much always does,
multi-purpose little thing. A power shield that protects him from awkwardness
when hanging about alone somewhere (makes him look busy, suggests he might have
a life, or a purpose even), a portal to another place that’s more entertaining
and blessedly far away. A talisman to look into when avoiding somebody’s eyes.
And since last weekend, after the little photoshoot at Darcy’s, a very
dangerous, very sensitive weapon of mass destruction, a vial of deadly poison.
If somebody should get access to its contents, there would be a massacre. Damn
fucking right he carries it with him at all times these days. Never lets it out
of his sight, not even in the shower. Such a powerful, lethal little thing.
In the secrecy of his room, he’s been fiddling with the photos all week. Not
just adjusting light and contrast, but cropping and reframing and cropping
again, making sure not to leave in one single identifiable feature that could
betray him. And yeah, ok, he’s done a bit more than just that; he’s smoothed
out a few muscles where they looked too sinewy, too manly, and he’s also
airbrushed a few patches of body hair. He doesn’t have a lot, but most girls he
knows shave or wax their legs and armpits, and that’s the look he’s aiming for,
a regular girl . The idea did cross his mind about adding curves where there
aren’t any, but it was quickly and vehemently dismissed: It means something to
him that those images are him, just him, and nothing but him. It’s a matter of
pride.
So anyway, after intensive, thorough, and by this point mostly superfluous
tinkering, the photos are ready, as ready as they can ever be. They have been
for days. So what is he waiting for then? I mean, it’s not like they’ve not
crossed an irreparable number of red lines already, right? This whole story is
fucked up with a capital F, with or without the photos. Right? So who cares?
What’s one more red line crossed?
Then again. Then again.
And so, he’s been all week bouncing between two moods: Hoe, don’t do it /
Bitch, what are you waiting for.
“Just throw the damn ball!” Thor grumbles at the TV.
Odin half opens an eye, and goes back to snoring.
Thor’s beer is all gone. He throws a look at Odin, and then goes to get himself
another. Loki’s brain drops everything it was doing and focuses on the
unexpectedly graceful bulk of his brother walking to the kitchen. He’s wearing
soft knit jogging pants and (so Loki would swear) nothing else. And it’s doing
Loki’s head in. Such a fidget, his brother, constantly shifting, changing
position, crossing and uncrossing his legs; and bucking his hips up every now
and then to pull the pants out of the crack of his ass. The material rises and
falls, tenses and drapes, hides and reveals. And Loki has to scrape up every
last shred of self-control he can find to not keep looking. It’s fucking
exhausting. And though it still feels weird as fuck, because, fuck, this is
Thor, Thor as in his brother Thor, Loki can’t help but follow the swing of that
ass on his way there, and has to really, really try not to follow the swing of…
things on the way back. Sweet mother of god, he’s so, so sick. He’s obsessed
with his brother’s junk, swinging freely under a wisp of fabric.
But it gets worse. There’s a bit of a thing going on currently in Thor’s year;
the boys have all been growing beards (those who physically can , that is.)
Pretty much all of them look older and manlier and just, you know, better, but
Thor. Oh my god, Thor . His hotness has increased by several orders of
magnitude. He just… Wow. There is no fucking contest. I mean, there is no need
for one. Skip the fucking play-offs and just hand him the cup. Potential
rivals, watch and cry. You can’t compete with a god.
It kind of hits Loki now sometimes, how fricking inconceivable it is that he’s
grown up next to this crowning achievement of the human species and never
really realized just how fucking beautiful Thor is. He saw it, sure, he knew
it. But it did not do this to him. It didn’t stun him into reverent, awed
silence.
And now he gets lost in it, watching Thor. He falls into a trance. Harmonious,
pleasantly symmetrical features, but any potential blandness or lack of
character done away with by that fierceness in his eyes when he frowns, the
fucking sparkles when he’s happy. His mouth is so fucking lovely, but when he
smiles, fucking hell, he lights up the room. And now that fucking beard, giving
him gravitas, adding a few years, sharpening what’s soft and childish, making
him look like a man. And it looks so fucking strokable. He has had to pull
himself back several times now right from the edge of asking his brother if he
could feel it.
“Do I have something on my face, smurf?” asks his brother.
Loki comes to with a start.
“Your dinner,” he fires back quickly. He jerks his chin towards Thor’s face, he
gestures vaguely. “Saving all those crumbs for a midnight snack or something?”
Thor laughs in his direction (that jaw-splitting grin, dazzling; feels like
being hit by a thunderbolt) as he wipes the bristles around his mouth.
“Very practical,” he says. He’s in a good mood. “You should grow one. Oh, wait,
sorry, how insensitive of me. You can’t .” Another chuckle. He’s not being
cruel, just… Thorly. Loki isn’t affected.
“Hah, hah,” he deadpans. And after a moment he asks. “Is it annoying?”
“What, the beard? A bit itchy when it was growing. Now it’s really nice not to
have to shave everyday.”
“Not that I would know anything about that, right?” snarks Loki. And after
another short silence. “Makes you look older.”
“That was kind of the idea.”
“Why?”
“Casting aside childish things, I don’t know,” Thor shrugs.
“It’s all about buying booze without an ID, isn’t it?”
His brother chuckles, husky, warm.
“It suits you,” Loki says. He’s tried to just drop it in there in passing. He
absolutely wasn’t supposed to blush like that. He quickly buries his eyes in
his phone, praying in silence that Thor hasn’t noticed.
Thor fingers a gun at him, pulls the imaginary trigger with a clacking sound of
his tongue, winks.
“Thanks, smurf.”
Smurf. Tisch. Loki clenches his jaw. He’s irrationally pissed off now.
Irrationally, because Thor regularly calls him that, and has been doing so
pretty much forever. But right now, Loki has a real problem not throwing the
fucking phone at his brother’s head, aiming for the eyes.
And then there are other impulses that have just become awfully, awfully
pressing.
He should never ever let himself make decisions in this kind of mood; the
amount of dangerously stupid stuff he’s got himself into of late when he’s
feeling like this, ugh. Loki, honestly, haven’t you learned your lesson? ( Hoe,
don’t do it.) So many stupid things, so many, ugh.
...So hey, what’s one more. (Bitch, what are you waiting for.)
Loki holds his phone in a dead grip.
Smurf?I’ll fucking give you smurf.
He goes to his files, has a quick browse; but he’s had his mind set on one
particular photo for days now. On his feet, slightly off frame, holding his
hair up, face turned to the invisible window on his right, features hidden by
his arm. In the dark green satin chemise with black lace inserts and velvet
trim, and that exquisite lacy thong. His arched back and the lines of the
lingerie sinuously leading the eye to one perky, round, smooth buttock; and
once that rolling hill is left behind, meet a few miles of white leg in black
stockings, with a matching garter belt keeping the composition tight. The light
is soft and warm, and that person in the photo is absolutely lovely. And could
very well be a young, delicious, nubile young girl.
So Loki selects the file. His finger hovers for a moment. He takes a quiet
breath, bites his lip, and clicks send.
The teeny tiny little package of data goes up up up in the sky, hops through a
few satellites, and then it makes its way down down down again, back to the
living room at Chez Borson, and ping! it lands in his brother’s phone. And now
there’s no taking that back. Shit.
What have I done.
The following seconds seem to happen underwater, in slow motion, every tiny
blink or twitch of his brother’s expression arising slowly enough for Loki not
to miss a single one. The soft smile—vague, barely reaching his eyes, so
warm—when Thor recognizes the specific sound that identifies who the message is
from. He grabs the phone and his thumb flies to unblock the screen, and then a
fraction of a second passes while the app loads up and opens. And then another
fraction for the image to download, and oh, Thor’s eyes, wow, will you just
look at that. How they widen, the fucking poetry of his eyebrows rising, his
mouth about to fall open. And suddenly, the screeching effort to contain his
reaction and reel back. Thor’s eyes dart around nervously as if Loki and Odin
could see what he’s seeing, see what he’s thinking. And then he must realize
his dad hasn’t stopped snoring, and that Loki is focused intently on his phone,
maybe reading or whatever. That nobody cares what he’s just been sent, and that
he can look safely. And look he does, now with a more neutral expression,
carefully managed to make him look unaffected. A thumb slide, and now the photo
must be flooding the screen. The light is not the brightest now, and Loki might
be imagining things, but if that isn’t an honest to god flush of color creeping
up Thor’s neck and face. The stony expression cracks a tad into a pleased,
smarmy half grin. His brother is fucking delighted. And Loki? Loki is vibrating
in his own skin, about to fucking blow up into a rain of light and noise like
fucking fireworks, one of those massive displays that fill the sky. It’s a lot
to hold in.
Before Thor has time to gather his wits, Loki launches a second attack. Second
favourite pic. Still with the whole lingerie set, the framing strategically
cropped to leave face and hands out; the person in the photo is on their hands
and knees on a bed with black sheets, a slight thong and garter belt framing a
damn fine, heart-shaped, rather inviting butt.
Thor’s reaction is everything . His jaw drops, his eyes go huge, he leans
forward, and he stares at the photo like he doesn’t know what to do with this.
Like he’s totally overcome. And Loki has to put in everything he’s got to
pretend that he isn’t looking, that he isn’t noticing a thing, but he really,
really struggles. There is something in his chest and in his throat that’s just
bursting to come out. He wants to yelp.
This shit is addictive. Loki fires one more salvo: in this one he’s on his
back, one arm over his chest, making it look like there are breasts to cover,
another one between his legs, suggestive, one knee raised to block the view to
specific areas, and a fine arch in his back, a sexy but subtle position. The
lighting is magnificent, pure Baroque. Darcy, you’re a genius.
Thor sits up on the couch, back ramrod straight. And oh, Loki saw that, he
totally gulped. His brother’s face is serious now, as if he has important
business in mind that require his immediate attention. He slips the phone into
his pocket, stretches his arms (stiff as a board, playing for the gallery) and
mumbles.
“‘M going up to my room.”
“Not watching the rest of the game?” asks Loki sweetly, coy. He’s fucking
enjoying this.
“‘S’almost finished,” says Thor.
Loki rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t protest (he thinks I’m stupid, right? Just
because I don’t follow it, doesn’t mean I don’t know how much longer a game
goes on for, brother.)
Anyway, who cares, Loki is also eager to get this show on the road. And he
should also be glad to, uh, see the back of his brother, so to speak, because,
well, the photos have surely made Thor feel a little bit eager too, and those
soft jogging pants… It’s hard for Loki to keep his eyes off that burgeoning
semi, and he really, really should.
Thor disappears up the stairs, and Loki counts Mississippies.
And sure enough, only a handful of rivers later.
 
Storm99: oh
Storm99: my
Storm99: fucking
Storm99: god
Storm99: princess
Storm99: !!!!!!!!!!!
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: im fucking speechless my brain is a fucking puddle
Storm99: what the
Storm99: i cant form sentences sorry u broke me
 
Loki’s smiling from ear to ear. Seriously, it will start to hurt soon.
Odin makes a series of noises in his sleep, chortles and huffs. Then he
settles. Loki is not doing this here, with football on and his father snoring.
A prudential time after his brother’s disappearance has now elapsed. He grabs
the phone and tip-toes quietly up the stairs to his room.
He locks the door, throws himself on the bed, and reads again that outpour of
enthusiasm before he can think what to reply.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: so u like them then
Storm99: like???
Storm99: LIKE???
Storm99: !!!!!!!!!
One_for_Sorrow5654: ur cute when ur speechless
Storm99: & ur the most beautiful thing ive ever fucking seen in my entire life
 
Loki rolls over, hides his face in his pillow, and squeals. Softly, with
feeling.
 
Storm99: where did that come from when did it happen?
One_for_Sorrow5654: went shopping the other day
One_for_Sorrow5654: then went modeling ;)
Storm99: who took them?
One_for_Sorrow5654: lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: a friend of mine
One_for_Sorrow5654: a *girl* friend
Storm99: rite
One_for_Sorrow5654: jealous?
Storm99: jealous?? me?? would i have wanted 2 b the 1 in that room w u taking
those pics???? that a serious question??
One_for_Sorrow5654:(#^_^#)
One_for_Sorrow5654: i just saw the thing in the shop i thought i’d look cute in
it and then thought mayb ud like 2 see me in it
Storm99: mayb? u fucking tease
Storm99: bby YOU LOOK GORGEOUS
Storm99: LIKE A FUCKING DREAM
Storm99: im dead fucking dead
 
Oh my GOD, who even knew being alive could feel so good?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i got more
Storm99: omg
One_for_Sorrow5654: but if ur dead…
Storm99: not that dead pls show me
 
Loki chuckles out loud in his room. He has a look at his stash. Hm, when he
tried on Darcy’s heels, in his garter and stockings, and leaned on her closet
door like he was about to be frisked... He does have very photogenic legs.
 
Storm99: fuuuuuuuck
Storm99: ur so fucking sexy princess i have no words
Storm99: i mean
Storm99: whoa
Storm99: sweet merciful jesus
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: !!!!!!!!!
Storm99: i’m just looking at them and
Storm99: ur a goddess
Storm99: so so hot and confident and sensual
Storm99: like if i was there rn bby i’d be on my fucking knees kissing ur feet
One_for_Sorrow5654: lol kinky
Storm99: i know i know i’m talking shit i just
Storm99: can’t fucking think let alone string sentences together with all my
blood in
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: oh
Storm99: yes oh
Storm99: OH even ;)
 
Loki himself is not impervious to the situation either. That delicious hot
throb deep inside, that pulsing in his cock, getting visibly bigger and thicker
where it’s trapped in the leg of his jeans. Which gives him a naughty, naughty
idea. So naughty. Unbelievably naughty. It’s not just one more red line, this
one. It’s a fucking fence painted in black and white stripes with flashing
orange lights on. He shouldn’t cross it. Really. He shouldn’t even be thinking
about it. Of all the Terribly Fucked Up Things they have done…
That throb is so, so good. Won’t let him live.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: show me
Storm99:
Storm99: show u?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i showed u mine show me yours?
One_for_Sorrow5654: pls
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: idk bby not sure
One_for_Sorrow5654: why?
Storm99:
 
Oh god forget it. It’s way too much, isn’t it? And does Loki even want to see
this, for real? He’s having second thoughts now. Those flashing orange lights
are really going at it now.
 
Storm99: ok hang on a sec
 
Oh my FUCK he’s gonna do it. He’s gonna do it god save us all.
 
Storm99 sent a photo file
 
Loki is holding onto the phone for dear life, shaking. On his screen, a blank,
blurred square with a little round arrow, “click to download”.
You can still back away from this, boy. There is still hope in hell that… Oh,
fuck it.His breathing coming in short, shallow bursts, and his insides
churning, Loki taps on the screen.
It’s the longest fucking three quarters of a second of his entire life.
In the frame, the image of a crotch in light knit jog pants (and definitely
nothing else, that’s confirmed) strained by a sizeable erection. Not quite a
dick pic. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed, or relieved.
However, on second look. Oh. My. God. The fabric is thin enough you can make
out the shape of the head.
For a second, Loki is sure he’s going to puke. The next second, he’s folding
over with the burning hot stab right in the middle of his groin. Oomph.
He stares and he stares and he stares, his chest rising and falling quickly.
Storm99: princess?
One_for_Sorrow5654: more
 
He typed it before he could think about it.
 
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99 sent a photo file
 
Oh holy mary and all the saints. Loki swallows dry. He taps on the blurry
square to download.
He physically, audibly sighs. His brother’s big, yet oddly refined hand, one
thumb hooked on the waistband of the sweatpants, pulling them down. Golden
pubes (old gold), and a glimpse of the dark, veiny root of a thick hard cock.
This is the very same piece of anatomy Loki used to be scientifically curious
about in the bathtub, or at the beach, or back when they shared a room, or
whenever Thor barged into the bathroom to piss while Loki was in the shower.
The exact same bit. Only now by the power of fucking Grayskull or whatever,
it’s giving him palpitations and there is surely a growing risk of a full blown
heart attack.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: more
Storm99:
Storm99: no bby better not
One_for_Sorrow5654: why???
Storm99: ur 15
Storm99: i think there are grounds 4 me 2 go 2 jail already with what uve sent
me
One_for_Sorrow5654: im not going 2 report u!
Storm99: lol i know i mean i hope so but
Storm99: idk bby
Storm99: it doesn’t feel right
Storm99: i just don’t feel comfortable about it
Storm99: what u sent was suggestive and erotic and supersexy but nothing was in
ur face if u know what i mean
Storm99: and maybe that’s enough don’t u think?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i dont think
Storm99: bby id feel like a creep ur only 15
One_for_Sorrow5654: my birthday is in a couple of weeks
Storm99: lol ok ask me again on ur birthday
One_for_Sorrow5654: ill hold u 2 that
One_for_Sorrow5654: dont think i wont
Storm99: lol ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: promise?
Storm99: maybe;-)
One_for_Sorrow5654: d’aw *pouting*
Storm99: and im sure its an adorable pouting face too <333
 
Cute or not, the pout stays in place for a while.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u think its creepy? What we’r doing?
Storm99:
Storm99: i think if ur honest and im honest and we’r both good people who
respect each other and want good things 4 each other
Storm99: & we dont rush into anything & take our time;-)
Storm99: then no its not creepy
Storm99: i can imagine how it would look 2 people from the outside tho
Storm99: and im a little
Storm99: well i guess it does concern me
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what
Oh, nothing, brother. Just, thoughts, you know. What are those tiny red horns
that have suddenly sprouted in my forehead, you ask? Hm, care to find out? Here
goes nothing.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i say, ur an awfully grounded and sensible young man,
considerate & decent
Storm99: lol
Storm99: thank u v much i try
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
If you’re gonna do it, do it now.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i got an early birthday prez from that same friend
One_for_Sorrow5654: a friend who has been in a distance relationship & knows
how hard it is for young hearts 2 b apart
One_for_Sorrow5654: and contrived methods to alleviate the burdens of
separation
Storm99:
Storm99: *intrigued*
 
Loki has fished the very special super secret box from the deepest reaches of
his wardrobe, taken both dildos out of their silky black pouches, and placed
the big boy on the bed, on a black t-shirt for a neutral background. He takes a
photo, and sends it.
 
Storm99: *spit take*
Storm99: !!!
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: r u quite finished?
Storm99:XD
Storm99: pretty much yeah
Storm99: Ended. Kaput. i blame u
Storm99: so (cough) have u tried it yet?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no
One_for_Sorrow5654: how does this work let’s see
One_for_Sorrow5654: im an innocent virgin i dont know much about these things
im afraid
One_for_Sorrow5654: this end must be the one u put in ur mouth?
Storm99: *another spit take*
Storm99: u want to physically kill me 2day
One_for_Sorrow5654: *gobble gobble gobble*
Storm99: ROFLMAO
One_for_Sorrow5654: i adore u bby
 
Loki implodes. No, seriously. He’s pretty sure hearts are not supposed to do
this thing his has just done. This is a medical emergency. There might be some
internal bleeding, or worse.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: send me another pic
One_for_Sorrow5654: pls
One_for_Sorrow5654: doesnt have 2 b u know
One_for_Sorrow5654: just
Storm99:
Storm99: hang on
Storm99:
Storm99 sent a photo file
 
Thor holding himself through his clothes, a firm grab. The way the light of the
table lamp falls on his crotch, on the thin grey fabric of the jog pants, leave
so little to the imagination, so fucking little. If this was manga, Loki would
be splashing half his room with a projectile nosebleed right now.
He holds the dildo in his hand, closes his eyes, squeezes it. Rolls on his
stomach, types with one hand, feels the warm silicone with the other. Presses
his hip against the mattress, squashing his own hard-on.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: pretnd i’m on my knees between ur legs rn
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have the dildo in my hand tell me what 2 do
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me what u like. how u like it
Storm99: jesus
One_for_Sorrow5654: come on like we havent done worse
Storm99: ik
Storm99: it just feels *more* somehow
One_for_Sorrow5654: ik
One_for_Sorrow5654: its amazing
One_for_Sorrow5654: *closes eyes, licks it*
Storm99: oh bby omg
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me
Storm99: jesus
One_for_Sorrow5654: He cant help u now
Storm99: LOL
One_for_Sorrow5654: come on
Storm99: slow
Storm99: i like it slow
Storm99: 2 begin with
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me what 2 do precisely
One_for_Sorrow5654: & ill be doing it
One_for_Sorrow5654: as u type
Storm99: fuck
Storm99: fuck ok
Storm99: hold the base tight
Storm99: like, tight. its not gonna break or anything. some girls are like so
delicate
Storm99: and im like its not a fucking flower u have no idea how hard i go when
i do this myself go right the fuck ahead and *grab it*
One_for_Sorrow5654: axes 2 grind, anyone?
Storm99: lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: got it
One_for_Sorrow5654: tight hold
One_for_Sorrow5654: what else
Storm99: lick it
Storm99: along the shaft
Storm99: avoid anything too sensitive like the head, speclly under. tease me
One_for_Sorrow5654: mmmmm ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m on it
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: it has these veins did u notice in the pic? very realistic
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m licking along them
Storm99: oh dear god
One_for_Sorrow5654: u know an angel dies or someth every time u take the Lord’s
name in vein in this situation dont u
Storm99:XD
Storm99: im so fucking turned on rn im afraid to come in my pants
Storm99: just thinking of u like that
One_for_Sorrow5654: like what
One_for_Sorrow5654: running my tongue up and down ur cock slow
One_for_Sorrow5654: until its all wet and slick and shiny
Storm99: hnnng
Storm99: does it taste plasticky
One_for_Sorrow5654: a little bit
One_for_Sorrow5654: not as bad as i thought
One_for_Sorrow5654: id like 2 know how u taste
One_for_Sorrow5654: how u smell
Storm99: shit
One_for_Sorrow5654: so can i suck it already or
Storm99: bby goddammit
One_for_Sorrow5654: im impatient what can i say
Storm99:
Storm99: take it easy bby
Storm99: make it last
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes tell me
Storm99: is it stuck on something?
One_for_Sorrow5654: can do
One_for_Sorrow5654: has like a sucker at the base hang on
 
A bit of maneuvering, and now there is a nice hot pink dildo proudly jutting up
from the surface of Loki’s bedside table, nice and smooth and just right for
this kind of thing, and more or less the right height too. And Loki gets on his
knees for real now, and breathes deep, with the phone in his hand, and his
other fist curled up tightly around that dildo.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: its in position
One_for_Sorrow5654: im on my knees ready 2 suck it
Storm99: dont yet
Storm99: jerk it slowly while u lick under the head
 
Now we’re fucking talking. Loki accommodates his throbbing hard-on as well as
he possibly can, closes his eyes, and does just as he’s told. He decides to
tell himself that the plasticky taste (really not overpowering at all, good
quality stuff, thanks Darcy) is the condom, and as he strokes up and down the
shaft, he explores tentatively with his tongue. And he pictures it. His brother
looking down on him, eyes glazed, breathing hard, maybe petting his hair. His
own erection tugs hard, trapped as it is. He cops a good feel.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: wht r u dng
 
Takes a moment longer than usual for Thor to reply.
 
Storm99: jerking off
Storm99: teasng mslf
Storm99: i sht my eys nd pretnd ur here
 
Ah fuck. Fuck.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: can i suck it yet
Storm99: fuck
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: let me suck u
Storm99: fuckng hll
Storm99: yeah bby
Storm99: suck me
 
Loki closes his eyes again and takes it into his mouth, seals his lips around
the head, slobbers it well. He tries to get it deep. Doesn’t make it even half-
way. He uses his hand where his mouth can’t reach. He uses his tongue.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: keep tllng me
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me how
One_for_Sorrow5654: wnt me 2 go fastr?
Storm99: shit
Storm99: bby if u wer here
Storm99: id jst let u do whtvr u felt like
Storm99: whtver feels good 2 u
Storm99: id like 2 see u tease me
Storm99: react 2 wht u see me do
Storm99: fuck princss i wnt u so bad
 
With the silicone dildo in his mouth, Loki whimpers desperately. He squeezes
the heavy, throbbing hard-on in the fold of his jeans.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: im suckng hard
One_for_Sorrow5654: using my hand tight
Storm99: fuck bby
One_for_Sorrow5654: now jerking slow
One_for_Sorrow5654: my tongue on the head
One_for_Sorrow5654: flicking quickly just under
Storm99: hnnng fuck yes
One_for_Sorrow5654: would u grab my hair
Storm99: u wnt me 2?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes fuck
Storm99: shit
Storm99: shit bby
Storm99: lol id tell u i like it slow but
Storm99: if this ws real i would have come like hours ago
One_for_Sorrow5654: ud want me 2 swallow?
Storm99: not bothered either way
Storm99: if she finds it hot i find it hot
Storm99: if she hates it I wouldnt find it hot, wouldnt ask her
Storm99: i wouldnt ask u its wht u wnt really
 
He rolls his eyes in pure despair. His brother is such a fucking gentleman.
And Loki is so, so fucking horny.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: id want u 2 come inside me when u fuckd me
Storm99: shit
One_for_Sorrow5654: id like tht so much
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: tht was so fuckng close now
Storm99: gd i wnat 2 fck u so bad
Storm99: so bad bby
Storm99: this is fckng torture
 
Dildo still in hand, Loki buries his face in his arm and wants to roar.
Instead, he eyes the slimmer dildo. Hm.
His hands are on his flies in under a second, fumbling clumsily, so impatient.
He pushes his pants down and kicks them off. He grabs the slimmer dildo and the
lube, and throws himself on the bed, on his back. Spreads wide.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: im on th bed
One_for_Sorrow5654: gonna fck mself
Storm99: yo bby tht lookd pretty thick b careful there
One_for_Sorrow5654: got a thinner one
One_for_Sorrow5654: 4 bginners
Storm99: ur friend is a gem
One_for_Sorrow5654: isnt she just
Storm99: still b careful go slow
Storm99: dont hurt urself
 
Oh, Thor, big brother twenty-four fucking seven.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: tell me things
One_for_Sorrow5654: pretnd its u
One_for_Sorrow5654: jst about 2 fck me
Storm99: fuuuuuck
Storm99:
Storm99: id b kneeling between ur legs
Storm99: looking at ur amazing body, touching u
Storm99: id play with ur clit gently
Storm99: i would have been eating u out 4 half an hour at this point
Storm99: ud b so wet
Storm99: id slip my fingr in fuck u with it
Storm99: then id stroke u with my dick
Storm99: rub it on u
Storm99: rub it right there
Storm99: ud b squirming and moaning and gd so lovely so sexy
 
Loki rubs the thin dildo on himself, circles it on his hole. He still has the
other one in his mouth, except for texting. He’s shuddering with need now.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: put it in me already fuck
Storm99: lol
Storm99: yeah? U wnt that bby?
Storm99: wnt this inside u?
Storm99: wnt me 2 fck u now?
 
Loki teases himself, resists temptation to, uh, push on ahead.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: godfuckngdmmit
One_for_Sorrow5654: fck me please fuck me
Storm99: bby id love 2 c u now
Storm99: love 2 hear u
Storm99: im lining up now gonna put it inside u
 
Yes fucking please, thank god.
 
Storm99: come on bby do it
 
Loki tries, just an inch. It goes right in, well lubed and horny as he is. It
still burns. So, so weird. Nothing to do with his fingers. And not particularly
nice.
 
Storm99: u ok?
One_for_Sorrow5654: weird
Storm99: move it slow
Storm99: in out in out slow not 2 deep
 
Loki closes his eyes for a moment, and sucks the dildo, and slips the other one
bit further in. And out. And a bit further in. Still not nice, but god, this is
so fucking hot, lying there, sucking, fucking. He feels debauched and slutty
and he likes it. It inspires him to pick up the pace, be a little less careful,
go a little less gently. It burns. His face burns too. Look at yourself.
 
Storm99: touch urself
Storm99: ur clit
Storm99: tease urself while u fuck
 
It means Loki has to put down the dildo he was sucking on, but it sounds like a
good idea, so he holds his dick, only half-hard now, and squeezes and strokes
and teases. (Hnnnng...)
And starts fucking a bit faster, a bit deeper.
 
Storm99: how do u feel?
One_for_Sorrow5654: full
Storm99: keep moving gently
Storm99: gt used 2 it
One_for_Sorrow5654: hve u done mny vrgins?
Storm99: never kiss n tell!
Storm99: jst guessng wt wld feel good 2 me
Storm99: i mean if it was me
 
Loki keeps going, and the burn mixes with the nice feelings coming from his
dick, and he starts getting hard again.
He also gets a bit cheeky.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: if it was ur ass?
Storm99: lol yeah i guess
One_for_Sorrow5654: wuld u like tht?
Storm99:
Storm99: i hve no idea
One_for_Sorrow5654: never tried?
Storm99: nope
One_for_Sorrow5654: u agnst it?
Storm99:
Storm99: dunno
One_for_Sorrow5654: i think its hot
Storm99: yeah?
One_for_Sorrow5654: would u do it 1 day?
Storm99: wt
One_for_Sorrow5654: fingr urslf 4 me
Storm99: lol
Storm99: get me drunk first
One_for_Sorrow5654: lol
One_for_Sorrow5654: deal
 
He drops the phone and grabs his dick again, shuts his eyes. He’s fully hard
now. And it’s like a fucking revolution of the people down there. The crowds
are amassing, a growing clamor is rising.
In short, now he’s fucking feeling it.
The phone pings, and Loki opens his eyes to check the screen.
 
Storm99: how r u bby?
One_for_Sorrow5654: nnnnng
Storm99: lol
 
Everything in Loki’s body is demanding that he puts all his attention on the
matters at hand. It does feel like he’s gonna get there with flying colors with
only a few more thrusts and a few more strokes. So he stops stroking, and keeps
to the thrusting. And grabs the phone.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: wt u dng?
Storm99: me?
Storm99: humping the be d
Storm99: fkng my own fist
Storm99: wt can i do
One_for_Sorrow5654:XD
One_for_Sorrow5654: pants down?
Storm99:
Storm99: they are now
One_for_Sorrow5654: oh my
 
And he imagines it. Thor on his stomach on the bed, pants halfway down his
thighs, his butt clenching as he ruts. Frustrated, grunting, whimpering.
Loki’s in fucking flames. He wants to come, like, yesterday. He holds it. He
endures it. He still leaves his cock alone (now painfully hard and leaking pre-
come) and he keeps fucking himself. Way too thin to be his brother but… but it
could be his brother holding the dildo. It could be his brother’s hand. It
could be… Oh, Jesus fucking… Everything’s just escalated suddenly, when he
closes his eyes and imagines it, Thor holding the dildo instead of him, his
face hovering close, watching Loki squirm, teasing him, tormenting him, slowly
driving him out of his mind.
 
Storm99: r u close bby?
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes
Storm99: oh god
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: me 2
Storm99: id really have to hold bck now
Storm99: id want to go hard
Storm99: bt i wnat 2 b gentl
Storm99: i wnt 2 b gentl bby
Storm99: but im so fckng hrny im so clse
One_for_Sorrow5654: just fck me
One_for_Sorrow5654: fck me hard nd deep
One_for_Sorrow5654: give it 2 me
One_for_Sorrow5654: dont hold bck
One_for_Sorrow5654: fck me make me feel it
One_for_Sorrow5654: come inside me
Storm99: shit fuuuuuuuck
 
And Loki grabs his cock and it’s two strokes to the head and he’s coming,
biting his lip hard, grunting probably way too loud. It lasts forever, fucking
hell. There’s spurts of come dripping down his fist. He never stops fucking
himself, last deep, slow shoves. It burns so good, god, so so good.
 
Panting, eyes lost in space. The jerking hand squeezing the tip now, milking
it. He shudders with the aftershocks, clenching around the foreign body still
lodged inside him, unmoving now.
He’s sprawled there, utterly relaxed, breathing shallow, mind god knows where.
It’s… whoa. What the hell is this. He’s fucking high. So this is an afterglow,
a proper one. He had no idea.
Ping!
 
Storm99: u ok bby?
 
It takes Loki a moment or two.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: very
One_for_Sorrow5654: very very ok
Storm99: :)))
Storm99: ws it good then?
One_for_Sorrow5654: fuck yeah
Storm99: :))))))
One_for_Sorrow5654: u?
Storm99: mde a total mess
Storm99:
Storm99: i wish so bad u were here
One_for_Sorrow5654: with my warm wet pussy
Storm99: bby! :-O
Storm99: nah nows when we cuddle
Storm99: id hug u close
Storm99: we could make out slow under the sheets
Storm99: whisper sweet nothings
 
Loki sighs out loud, his yearning worse now than five minutes ago.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: what kind of sweet nothings
Storm99: idk
Storm99: plans for later or tomorrow
Storm99: how r u how do u feel
Storm99: how was it
One_for_Sorrow5654: it was amazing
Storm99: im glad
One_for_Sorrow5654: & im so so fucking miserable and lonely right now
Storm99:
Storm99: me too
Storm99: don’t know what i’d give 2 have u in my arms right now
 
So much for wonderful afterglows. Loki’s heart is sinking lower by the second
instead.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i love you
Storm99:
Storm99: i love u too
Storm99: it hits me like a brick wall u know
Storm99: when u say that
Storm99: leaves me reeling, shook up
Storm99: it means so much
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: same
 
For a while, neither says anything. Loki doesn’t know about Thor, but he’s
simply so fucking miserable.
 
Storm99: hey! had an idea!
One_for_Sorrow5654: what
 
The phone starts to buzz in Loki's hand with a voice call from the dating app.
Shit! Shit shit shit! Loki hits the red button like it’s a bomb about to go off
in his hand. Did Thor hear that?
 
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: baby? ok?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Okay? Loki’s heart nearly fucking stopped here, and now it’s going like crazy.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: wasn’t expecting that i panicked
Storm99: should have warned u sorry
Storm99: can i call u? Can we talk?
Storm99: mayb we can’t meet irl but at least that
Storm99: id love to hear ur voice
 
Shit. Fuck. No. Loki is still panting in terror. His brain is scrambling for
excuses.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: im not ready
 
That’s not just the best, but the only thing he is able to come up with.
 
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry
Storm99: ok
Storm99: it’s ok bby
Storm99: it was kinda sudden i realize
Storm99:
Storm99: think about it tho
Storm99: id like that so much
 
Oh, Loki’s life was so fucking perfect for about three fucking seconds then.
Things were going hunkydory. Couldn’t last of course, he should have seen it
coming. He should have known.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: me too but
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
What can he possibly fucking say?
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: we’ll see ok?
Storm99: sure princess
Storm99: it would be amazing
Storm99: id love to hear u say i love u
Storm99: id love to say it to you
Storm99: would be amazing dont u think?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: will u think about it?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
Dammit, Thor. You’ll fucking ruin everything!
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah
Storm99: ok
One_for_Sorrow5654: gotta go now
One_for_Sorrow5654: look at the state of me
One_for_Sorrow5654: if somebody sees me like this
Storm99: hmmmm
Storm99: i just pictured it and damn
Storm99: u must look so sexy
Storm99: fucked out and gorgeous
One_for_Sorrow5654: u too
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99 sent a photo file
 
Uh.
Loki opens it. His brother’s face, oh his every fucking god, hair mussed up, a
healthy flush, eyes dozy, a killer satisfied smirk. He’s so insanely handsome,
so fucking hot. Good job Loki’s lying down, because he just fucking swooned.
With what feels like a heavy rock in his stomach, Loki suddenly comes to the
realization that he’s gonna be seeing that face in the flesh in a short while,
when they’re called to set up the fucking table for dinner, and they have to
sit down to eat with their goddamn parents. Why must his life be so fucking
painful and unfair. Who the fuck did he piss off in a previous life. How does
he get off this ride.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: wow
One_for_Sorrow5654: ur out of this world
Storm99:(#^_^#)
 
That’s all he’s got.
He figures he should reciprocate, but of course he can’t just take a snapshot,
can he? Motherfricking sigh. He finds one of the pics from the photo session at
Darcy, sends it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: sorry it’s not a fresh one
One_for_Sorrow5654: light is shit in my room sorry
Storm99:
Storm99: u know i dont care about the light do u?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i do
One_for_Sorrow5654: i have standards
Storm99: lol
Storm99: stunning pic anyway princess
Storm99: how many more are there?(o_O)
Storm99: but we need 2 do this in the daytime some other time
Storm99: so u can send me a fresh 1
 
Loki exhales from the bottom of his poor wretched heart.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: sure
Storm99: anyway ill let u go now
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah i better sort myself out
Storm99: and meXD
Storm99: well i have 2 sort myself and the bed
Storm99: small inconveniences of being a boy;)
One_for_Sorrow5654: yeah i can imagine
Storm99: tlk soon princess
Storm99: i love you
 
Sigh.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i love u too
Storm99: take care xxxxxxxx <33333
 
Effusive as a fucking Labrador.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: bye now <3
 
Loki stays exactly as he is, pants off, t-shirt rumpled, dildo still in his
ass, cock limp on his thigh, phone in his hand, eyes lost in the vast emptiness
of the ceiling.
His mind is not pleasantly empty and buzzing with happy juices anymore. It’s
suddenly full of an ominous, chilled, cutting dread.
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Thank Golikethatcat for the update. He provided the kick in the ass I
     was needing to sit down and finally get this done.
     Now, for the others.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Summary
     Thor wants more than Sorrow can give him.
     "Here we go. A few days ago, Loki had still been managing to get away
     from that with a joke and a tease. Now Storm won’t have it. Yeah, hah
     hah that’s cute, but answer the goddamn question. He’s backing Loki
     further into the corner every fucking day."
Chapter Notes
     Uuuuuh, sorry (not really. I AM AN ANGST HOE and if you made it this
     far in this story SO ARE YOU embrace it and revel in it.)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
Storm99: whats ur name? ur real name
Loki stares at the screen for a while. They were talking about the new Star
Wars and merrily hating on the prequels, and now this, out of the blue. Well,
no, not out of the blue to be fair. Storm has been dropping questions like
these more and more often, trying to get bits of real life information from
Sorrow. Her school, her house, her family. And what excuse can Loki honestly
give to keep this kind of things from him? So he lies. He lies and he lies and
he lies. And he never would have thought he would hate it so much, that it
would feel like a fucking piece of his soul breaks away and rots every time he
tells Storm a porky.
Anyway. He needs to make something up. Uhhhh… Names. Girl names girl names girl
names… One_for_sorrow. Magpies. Got it.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: maggie
Storm99::)))))))))
 
Is it normal that Loki’s brain is automatically translating those strokes of
black on white into a specific smile on his brother’s face? He would bet on
which one it is. It’s one of the dazzlers. (…Hell, they’re all dazzlers.)
He hadn’t even realized they hadn’t asked each other’s names. Of course,
Loki's never felt curious about it because he's known all along, but Sorrow
would have been curious, wouldn't she? Anyway, it feels like a biggie. It
definitely must be from Thor's side.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: whats urs?
Storm99: Thor
One_for_Sorrow5654: hello Thor
 
He feels a flutter in his stomach. Hello Thor. Wow. That felt… Wow. (So it is a
biggie for him too after all.)
 
Storm99: hi maggie, plsd 2 meet u
Storm99:(＾ｖ＾)
One_for_Sorrow5654: (－‸ლ)
One_for_Sorrow5654: XD hi Thor plsd 2 meet u 2
 
Storm99: its nice 2 know ur name maggie 
One_for_Sorrow5654: same here thor
Storm99: where u from?
 
Loki exhales heavily. Rubs his eyes. That’s the thing though. That’s their
problem. It’s never enough. Storm asks for a finger but what he really wants is
the whole arm, and one leg or two. It gets harder everyday to change subjects.
 
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: the north
Storm99: north where
One_for_Sorrow5654: alaska
Storm99: really?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no:P
Storm99:
Storm99: why cant u tell me?
 
Here we go. A few days ago, Loki had still been managing to get away from that
with a joke and a tease. Now Storm won’t have it. Yeah, hah hah that’s cute,
but answer the goddamn question. He’s backing Loki further into the corner
every fucking day.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: why do u want 2 know?
Storm99:
Storm99: u know why
 
*Sigh*
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: yes i know why
One_for_Sorrow5654: then u know why im not telling
Storm99:
Storm99: i just
Storm99:
Storm99:
Storm99: i just dont understand why u cant tell me
Storm99: dont u trust me?
One_for_Sorrow5654: why r u doing this?
Storm99: what
One_for_Sorrow5654: we were butchering Attack of the Clones and now
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: this is important
One_for_Sorrow5654: not the point
Storm99: what do u mean not the point
One_for_Sorrow5654: i mean
 
Loki’s throat is choked, a lump of burning coal inside. He furiously wipes the
tear starting to well in his eye. (I mean you’re going to ruin everything.
You’re going to end us. Stop it please before it’s too late. Please, Thor,
pretend none of this matters to you, please. What am I going to do without
this, without Storm…)  Loki rubs his eye until it stings. (You s top that right
now, boy.)
 
Storm99: whatever the problem is u can tell me
Storm99: i want 2 help u
 
Loki snorts. ...Aaaaand we have a leak, the floodgates have burst open. He
tries to stem the downpour single-handedly, or single-sleevedly more like. He’s
fucking finished all the tissues in his bedside table, used them on we all know
what. Damn.
Both sleeves. Both sleeves of his sweatshirt streaked with snot, as if he was a
goddamn toddler. Oh well, he started with not a lot of dignity, and off goes
what little was left.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: theres nothing 2 fix u cant help me
Storm99:
Storm99: u wont even let me hear ur voice
One_for_Sorrow5654: bc what would that solve?
One_for_Sorrow5654: first is my voice then its can we skype next is can we meet
One_for_Sorrow5654: and its impossible it cant happen
Storm99: but why not? i dont understand
One_for_Sorrow5654: nothing 2 understand
Storm99:
Storm99: there has 2 b a solution
One_for_Sorrow5654: but there isn’t
Storm99: if u told me what the problem is im sure we’d think of something
together
Storm99: let me help u
Storm99: is it ur family?
 
Loki snorts, blows his nose.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: in a way
Storm99: im willing 2 do whatever it takes. ill help u. anything
One_for_Sorrow5654: u gonna have ur parents adopt me?
Storm99: shit whatever it fucking takes bby if ur family is the problem then we
see it through i wont leave u in their hands i wont
 
A few days ago, Loki would have found it in himself to laugh at that, but it
seems everything about this little muddle he’s gotten himself into has ceased
to be funny.
 
Storm99: just tell me what the problem is and we’ll work something out
One_for_Sorrow5654: i cant
Storm99: why cant u trust me?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i trust u its just whats the point
Storm99: the point is id like 2 know and u wont tell me and u wont tell me why
u dont tell me
 
Loki rubs his forehead, his eyes. Shit. So much fucking shit.
 
Storm99:
Storm99: im beginning 2 think
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654: what
Storm99: im beginning 2 think ur not totally honest with me in some way
Storm99: i mean i trust u but im starting to feel like maybe i shouldnt
 
That finally breaks Loki down. He folds into a silent ball and bawls. His sobs
shake him up as he tries to keep it quiet. For what feels like a long time, all
he can do is cry.
They’ve had this conversation in one way or another several times in the last
two weeks. Loki has tried to keep Storm at ease feeding him drips of vague,
made up information, but clearly Thor isn’t having it. Fact is, he’ll never be
satisfied, no matter what he says. He’ll never be happy with the crumbs. He is
either lying to Loki, to himself, or to both of them, but he’s lying, and the
fact is, it will never be enough; he’ll keep asking and asking and asking, and
he will never get what he wants, and this can only end up in tears. (Hah.
Loki sniffs.)
For a day or two, Loki considered dropping a very big bomb, like, say, “I am a
boy”. But what would that accomplish? At first, Storm would be pissed off,
that’s for sure. Brimstone and lightning and a curse on both your houses. (Does
that sound fun? Anyone? Thought so.) And then after that, he’d either break up
with Sorrow, or he wouldn’t, because yeah, who knows (and wasn’t that an
exciting perspective in Totally Insane Happyland, for a minute or two.) But
after that, Thor would definitely want a picture. And a name. And immediately
after, back to asking to Skype. And then a location, and then a meeting.
Because if that was the Awful Terrible Problem, and now it was solved... Really
not a solution at all. Only a massive bump in a road that’s inevitably leading
to the same fucking precipice.
This precipice. This one where Loki is sitting by, feet dangling over the edge
of the cliff.
And there’s no place to go from here. It’s the end of the fucking road. The end
of every road he can think of for Storm and Sorrow.
 
Storm99: shit bby im sorry i didnt really mean that
 Storm99: its just
Storm99: u wont talk 2 me u wont tell me where u are u wont tell me anything u
wont tell me why
Storm99: my mind goes 2 ugly places what can i say?
Storm99: if u could help me understand
Storm99: what r u so afraid of?
Storm99: do u think i want 2 hurt u or something?
One_for_Sorrow5654: no of course not
Storm99: dont u trust me?
Storm99:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: i do
Storm99: then why do u hide from me?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: princess im sure theres good reasons for everything u do
Storm99: i just need 2 understand
Storm99: im going crazy here pls
Storm99: maggie
 
It takes Loki several minutes to pull himself together to a bare minimum, and
for his sight to clear up sufficiently to see the fucking screen and what he’s
typing.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: Thor
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: im listening princess. Maggie
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
God this is hard.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: u dont really want 2 understand u want to know whats the
problem so u can do something about it
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i only love u more 4 it i really do
One_for_Sorrow5654: if there was any chance at all id go for it in a minute
One_for_Sorrow5654: id do anything whatever it took
One_for_Sorrow5654: but theres nothing 2 b done
One_for_Sorrow5654: this cant happen
One_for_Sorrow5654: i told u from the start
Storm99: but why cant it happen why? there has 2 be a solution. if only u could
trust me, tell me what the problem is, i swear 2 u we’d find the way theres
always a way. may b hard but we'll make it happen. i'll do anything
One_for_Sorrow5654: pls believe me
One_for_Sorrow5654: there is nothing in this life id want more
One_for_Sorrow5654: nothing
One_for_Sorrow5654: but there is no solution and u dont need 2 know why
Storm99: i dont get it!!!
One_for_Sorrow5654: it wouldnt solve anything and it would
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what? why dont i need 2 know why?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what at least finish that line
One_for_Sorrow5654: it would hurt u
Storm99: hurt me how? why would it hurt me? i dont get it
Storm99: u talk in riddles all the time i dont get it!!
 
Storm's raging despair is fucking excruciating to witness. Loki feels the
exasperation and the anguish, and there's nothing he can do to ease it or
soften it. Worse, he now has to twist the knife.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i’m so so sorry
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish there was something i could tell u 2 make this
better
One_for_Sorrow5654: i wish what u want could happen between us
One_for_Sorrow5654: i want it too so so much
One_for_Sorrow5654: if u believe nothing else at least believe that
One_for_Sorrow5654: but theres no way. its impossible. i wish it wasnt but
thats how it is
 
Hold on for just a few more seconds. A few more seconds, and it will be done.
Deep breaths, already shuddering and wet.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: this has meant more 2 me than u’ll ever know
One_for_Sorrow5654: i love u more than u can imagine Thor
One_for_Sorrow5654: i hope u can forgive me someday
Storm99: forgive u 4 what?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: everything
One_for_Sorrow5654: i never meant 4 this 2 happen
Storm99: what r u saying?
One_for_Sorrow5654: i regret all the hurt im putting u through but i cant
regret whats happened  its been everything for me for these last few months its
fucking changed me changed my life
One_for_Sorrow5654: but maybe u will regret it in time
One_for_Sorrow5654: and when that happens pls remember
One_for_Sorrow5654:
Storm99: what
One_for_Sorrow5654:
 
"That I never meant to hurt you?" Yes he did. Yes he fucking did. He absolutely
meant to hurt his brother. That's what this was always about.
He just never fucking thought. He never stopped to actually consider... Fuck.
He was a stupid little boy with a cold and bitter heart. He's a shit. There's
no fucking excuse. Just because Thor was being an asshole? Big fucking crime,
so is Loki one hundred percent of the time. But Thor never fucking put a plan
together to wreck Loki's life. And he'd never do something like that. He'd kill
him with indifference one hundred times a day, but never purposely set out to
cause Loki harm. Thor will stand between Loki and his bullies again and again,
knowing that he won't get a word of thanks, more like the opposite. That's the
difference between them. Thor might be an asshole, but Loki? Loki is a mean,
wicked little shit and he should not be allowed near decent people. He's
fucking poison. How could he ever do this to his brother. How could he ever let
it get this far.
But he didn't mean to break Thor's heart. Not like that. 
I mean, he never would have believed that he even could, because how can you
break the heart of someone who doesn't give a damn about you? And that's the
most fucked up thing about this whole story. That Loki had managed to make
himself believe that Thor really didn't care for him, that he hated him even.
If there's something truly unforgivable, it's this. He had not tried to see
through his own fucking sense of entitlement and his self-pity, and he had let
that color his perception of Thor. How did Loki fucking dare do that to him.
Why can't he be a better fucking person. What's his fucking problem.
If somebody broke his face right now, he'd take it lying down and then say
thank you. Might even make him feel better afterwards, like he'd done some
atonement. Can somebody fucking beat me up please, it would be a kindness.
Well, he doesn't deserve it, but he's been granted this one chance. 
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: im so sorry about so many things
One_for_Sorrow5654: none of this was supposed 2 happen like this
Storm99: what r u on about bby i dont even know what ur trying 2 get at. why r
u saying all of this
One_for_Sorrow5654: it wasnt meant 2 go this way
One_for_Sorrow5654: im so fucking sorry Thor. im sorry
 
Loki types what follows as if instead of pushing on some keys he's carving
stone, slowly, with huge effort, with meaning in every single letter. He'll
only get to say this once.
 
One_for_Sorrow5654: I love you Thor
One_for_Sorrow5654: that was never a lie. never doubt that. ever.
Storm99:
Storm99: r u breaking up with me?
One_for_Sorrow5654:
One_for_Sorrow5654: im sorry
Storm99: no!!
Storm99: ill stop asking questions ill stop being a pain in the ass i swear
Storm99: bby pls Maggie
Storm99: Maggie pls pls
One_for_Sorrow5654: theres nothing else we can do
One_for_Sorrow5654: ur not happy with this as its stands
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i understand believe me
One_for_Sorrow5654: but it cant be anything else
One_for_Sorrow5654: if we try to keep it going this will only get more
miserable and more fucked up
One_for_Sorrow5654: u wont give up but u wont b happy
One_for_Sorrow5654: this was my happy place but now its not 
One_for_Sorrow5654: i dont want it 2 get any worse i want to save something
from it
One_for_Sorrow5654: i mean id never stop it if i could i wouldnt be strong
enough. if it was just about me id keep going forever. it would b worth it 
One_for_Sorrow5654: but i cant give u what u want i cant give u anything else
Storm99: princess
One_for_Sorrow5654: and thats not enough 4 u and i understand
One_for_Sorrow5654: i understand but theres nothing i can do about it
One_for_Sorrow5654: it will only get more and more fucked up u wont like me by
the end of it. i would hate 4 that to happen
One_for_Sorrow5654: rather a sad memory than a bitter one. cant stand the
thought of u hating me 
Storm99: how can u say this i never could hate u ever
One_for_Sorrow5654: im sorry Thor
One_for_Sorrow5654: im so sorry about everything
Storm99: maggie please
One_for_Sorrow5654: and i hate doing this more than u’ll ever know
One_for_Sorrow5654: i love you Thor
Storm99: maggie
One_for_Sorrow5654: good bye
 
One_for_Sorrow5654 has left the chat
One_for_Sorrow5654 is offline
 
______________
 
It’s a rough few days. In the car on their way to school, just the two of them
now, it’s quiet. 
Loki doesn’t have the words for what he’s feeling. At times, there’s just
nothing, vast plains of nothing as far as the eye can see. At times he’s
cringing in pain, more for Thor than himself he thinks. What a big fat cruel
joke. He set out to ruin his brother’s life, and succeeded. But it wasn’t
supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Does he regret all that’s happened? When he sees Thor like that, sunken and
wretched and lightless, with all his rotten black little heart, yes, he does.
But then the brothers cross paths and Thor will fluff his hair, or ask about
his day, or tell him to sit with him at lunch, or just smile at him when they
bump into each other at home, and they haven’t fought or screamed at each other
for weeks... And then warm, tender feelings soak up Loki’s heart, and he can’t
regret any of that. He wonders, if Thor knew, would he feel the same? After
he’d finished painting the walls with Loki’s innards, that is. Would he feel
that at least some of it was worth it?
 
That Friday evening, Loki walks into the den and finds his brother crying. At
first he doesn’t realize what’s going on. Thor is hiding his face in his hands
and his shoulders are shaking and there’s barely any sound, and it’s as obvious
as can be but it just does not compute. It’s a damn fucking shock, and it
rattles Loki to the bone. He can't remember the last time he saw Thor cry.
Thor hears the door when Loki pushes it closed, and pulls himself together. A
sniff and a scrub and he straightens his back and goes quiet, but a few seconds
later, he starts crying again. And it’s like from this point on he doesn’t
care. He curls up, and weeps like a little boy, and Loki looks on, frozen.
After some time, with a dry dry throat, Loki approaches the couch, not sure if
he’s allowed. He sits beside his brother.
“Hey,” he says softly. He doesn’t ask “are you okay,” because honestly? And
when they do that to him it feels like they’re taking the piss. He doesn’t ask
what’s wrong either, because he… doesn’t have a fucking right.
Instead, he slowly, timidly, puts a hand on Thor’s shoulder, and gives it the
slightest, most timid squeeze.
Thor sniffs, takes the tissue Loki is handing him (yeah, they've been keeping a
box of them in the den for a couple of years now, and Thor would sometimes make
a lewd joke or something, while Loki made a point to never talk about it.)
Thor blows his nose and sits back, his shoulders slumped, the very picture of
dejection. His eyes are red, which makes the blue seem paler, like crystal.
God, even bawling his eyes out, with streaks of snot on his fucking beard, he’s
beautiful beyond words.
“She left me. Sorrow,” Thor explains, with a forced, weak, broken smile that
shatters his brother’s heart to pieces.
Loki feels a burning knot tightening in his throat, his lips trembling.
“I’m sorry about that,” he chokes out. Then, just whispering. “I’m so so
sorry.”
And just like that, his own tears begin to fall.
Compassion floods Thor’s expression. Poor Lo, how he loves his big brother,
such a big heart, so sympathetic, so caring.
“I’m so sorry, Thor,” sobs Loki, then. He's full on bawling now, and he can't
stop it.
“Hey, hey…”
Thor pulls him into his arms, and hugs him close. And Loki crumbles.
He hugs him back, clings on tight with everything he’s got, years worth of need
and bereavement, and a few months worth of something else, more urgent and
hungrier and more desperate. 
“What is it,” whispers Thor. By now of course he realizes it can’t be his own
sentimental comings and goings that are afflicting Loki so deeply. He begins to
rock him gently. He kisses his hair. He slowly strokes his back. “It will be
okay,” he whispers, while Loki weeps from the bottom of his soul. “It will all
be alright.”
It’s the best moment of Loki’s life. He never wants it to end. Between his
brother's arms, so strong and tight and warm and true, like when they were
little. He is loved here, he is forgiven, he is saved. Nothing wrong can happen
to Loki here. And if only Loki could stay there forever, he'd sort himself out,
he'd be fixed, he'd be better...
He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve to be consoled by the same person
he’s betrayed and hurt so cruelly. He doesn’t deserve to seek comfort in his
brother’s arms. The animal in him holds on with all its might, but his brain.
It's like it's grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and wrenching him away.
No, mean poisonous little shit, what makes you think you have the right.
It’s the worst moment of Loki’s life. It hurts. It's tearing him in two. 
And so he pulls apart, still crying, and runs away.
He meant to hurt his brother. He succeeded. Now the least he can fucking do is
fucking put up with the consequences. And if that means suffering like hell,
well, boy, you made your own bed. One thing you do get to do? Fucking lie in
it.
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     I'M SO FRICKING DRAMATIC AREN'T I? NO STOPS LEFT UNPULLED HERE. There
     is a full-tilt diva that lives inside me, and lives to write moments
     like this.
     Warning: It gets worse from here. (Yes, it CAN get worse. Don't you
     know me by now? I can ALWAYS make it worse.)
     (BUT if I tell you I know how this story ends and it's NOT a
     miserable ending, would you believe me?)
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter Summary
     In which the shit hits the fan
Chapter Notes
     Ready?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
“Hey,” comes Loki’s voice, softly, from the passenger’s seat. “Wake up. We’ll
be late.” His tone is kind.
Thor smiles weakly and starts the car. They pull out and drive to school in
silence. True, it’s not like they used to chat before, when Thor would blare
his music, and Loki would sit at the back with his earbuds in, and there would
be a wall between them both, something that started building up years ago,
brick by brick, without them even realizing, until they were completely cut off
from each other and never talked at all, except for the constant bickering and
fighting.  It’s a different kind of silence these days. The wall is gone. Thor
hadn’t realized how oppressive it was, how overbearing and suffocating. He only
feels it now that it’s lifted. They can lower their guard, ease up, be quiet
together. The air isn’t frazzled with tension, and they aren’t waiting for
someone to snap so that they can react and be the meanest, the one with the
cruelest put-down, and score a shitty point. Now they can just  be .
Loki knows what’s up too, and treads lightly around him. Not because he’s
afraid of a row (at least that’s what Thor thinks), just… respecting Thor’s
space, the time he needs to muddle through his woes. He’s tactful and
thoughtful and kind. And it’s fucking great. Thor doesn’t have to put up a
façade of normality, he doesn’t have to fake a laugh, and he doesn’t have to
find increasingly more imaginative answers to his friends’ questions about
what’s wrong with him. Loki doesn’t ask him anything, but Thor feels less
lonely and better looked after with his kid brother than with any of his
friends right now.
That’s how it used to be, once upon a time, for a year or two anyway. Loki had
overcome his illness, he was getting stronger, they were both getting older.
Around eleven and thirteen. Those were the golden years. The age gap between
them seemed to become smaller. They got along really well, they understood each
other. They were good mates. Those summers at Aunt Ida’s farm, a couple of them
were a perfect idyll. It would just be the two of them and the countryside, and
they talked and talked and talked, or they didn’t need to speak a word for
hours, and still everything was said. In those days, Thor had his friends, who
liked him cocky and brash and boisterous, and then there was Loki. He didn’t
have to fake anything with Loki, he didn’t have to push himself to try to be
something he was not. They liked the same things, they laughed at the same
jokes, they rolled their eyes at the same people. Soulmates.  Damn. Thor had
not realized how much he missed him until… Until Sorrow.  Damn .
He stops a bit too abruptly at the red light. He can feel his eyes beginning to
sting. It’s been over a month, and he’s still a fucking mess.  He thinks about
her all the time. All the time. It feels like it should be impossible to
function in the world with so much of his brain space taken up by thoughts of
her.
He  does  function, barely. He even manages to conceal his misery, if he tries.
With his mates, for example. He doesn’t want their questions. He doesn’t want
to admit this is all over a mystery internet girl that came in and out of his
life and turned it upside down in less than three months and then vanished. It
takes everything he’s got, though, to keep up appearances. He gets home
completely shattered, and feeling so lonely. Some days he sits down with Loki
on the couch in the den, and they watch something together. Gets his mind out
of it for a little while. It’s good. Not everything is shit about this story.
At least he has got his kid brother back.
He cries a lot, though. When he’s alone in his bedroom. When he’d be opening
the chat and waiting for her to pop up. Sometimes they didn’t have a lot to say
to begin with, but soon a little thing would set them off, and they'd get
talking about life and death and love, and the things they liked and cared for
and the things that mattered. A lot of times it was just a quick hello how are
you and goodnight, but even that would keep Thor more or less sorted until next
time. She was out there and they had found each other and that was all Thor
needed to carry on.
And the sex. He still gets an instant boner when he remembers. Especially after
those photos and the magical set of neon pink dildos entered the scene. Whoa,
the punch in his lower belly, even now. It’s not just that she’s beautiful -
which she is, fucking  stunning . What a goddess, hot damn. It’s not the
lingerie either, though that’s super hot too. It’s the attitude, the way she
held herself in those pics, how she’d managed to… Those pics really capture the
girl he knew,  what he imagines her to be in the (hmmm) flesh, the shy and the
bold, the hesitant and the brazen. Those images had set his imagination on fire
like nothing else before. They had him desperate to find out what it would be
like to be with her in real life. How she’d come at him, determined to break
through her fears, wanting him to help her through, wanting  him . Trusting
him, putting in his hands all that she was, that gorgeous body and everything
else, every secret thought and feeling and longing shared between them. How
he’d take that trust to his heart. He’d make love to her for hours, until there
was no fear and no hesitation and no walls between them. There was a “princess
locked in the tower” element to it, true. There was something to being the
dashing saviour of the damsel in distress. But to be fair, that princess had
been weaving her hair into a long rope and was ready to jump out of the window,
and that was how Thor had come to meet her, right?  She  had picked him. She
had come out of her shell and told him what she wanted. That princess had
rescued herself.
Makes him feel great that he’s the man she decided to trust, the one she had
chosen. He… he wants to be her first in real life too. The thought that someone
else might get there instead of him… Fuck, he’s never been a particularly
jealous guy. Until Sorrow.
That was a turning point, Thor thinks, the photos. He had been sort of okay
with this thing never being real until that moment. Real as in  physical .
Before that, Sorrow was words on a screen, a voice in his head. He had pretty
much stopped paying attention to the photo in her profile. She was a spirit, a
thought, a feeling. A dream, even, a beautiful fantasy. He did yearn for her,
he struggled with her absence, but he could deal with it. When he told her he
was okay with never meeting up, Thor thinks he really meant it. It was kind of
romantic, and he was okay with a bit of doomed romance in his life. It was
something different. Made him feel a little bit tragic, a little melancholy; it
lifted him above the drudge of everyday school routine. It was endurable. It
gave him soft feelings. It  gave  him something. It seemed enough.
The photos, and those fucking dildos, and what it did to the way they had sex,
that blew all that romantic resignation out of the water. Now whatever this
story was giving him was nothing compared to how much it was taking from him.
He craved so bad, he was in fucking  pain  with want. The constant realization
that her actual physical body existed in the world, and that it desired  his ,
and that he can’t have it, that they cannot fucking have each other.  At times
he had even resented her for letting him see and almost sniff the honey he will
never get to taste. It was not fair to her. He knew she was in agony too.  It
didn’t make it any easier for him. He  had  been in a lot of fucking pain. He
had been constantly frustrated and pissed off and horny and desperate. That’s
what had made him so demanding, so impatient. That’s what had made him push her
too hard. That’s what had ruined everything. He sometimes blamed her too. He
couldn't help it. And he hated himself for it, for these sneaky, mean feelings.
It wasn't anyone's fault, was it? 
He knows he shouldn't be wallowing. He knows he should try and get his mind off
it, and let go. Instead, he keeps going over the entire conversation again and
again, the entire  relationship , from the very first “Hey” to the last
“goodbye” and… cries like an idiot, mostly.
Also laughs. Sighs quite a lot too. He misses her so fucking much.
And he jerks off. Jerks off to thinking about how she blossomed for him, from
an awkward stumbling virgin trying to push it too hard and go way too fast, to
the eager but self-possessed, irresistibly sexy thing she was at the end,
confident, owning both her inexperience and her desires, confronting the whole
picture face on, and willing to walk that path, with him.  To think it had been
him who had helped her feel better in her own skin. That it had been him taking
her by the hand and… She felt like something of his.  My girl.  He had never
felt so much tenderness for a girl. He had never felt so close, so… connected.
Everything was different with Sorrow. Everything was a hundred times better,
and a thousand times worse.
Makes him feel guilty now, whenever he bumps into Jane at school. They were
together for six months. He had told her he loved her. He had even thought at
times that she was the one because she was clever and sassy and kind and sweet
and honest. Because she was  mature . She seemed like the real deal, the kind
of girl he should be setting his sights on. He’d really thought he was madly in
love. He hadn’t had a clue.
Even his fantasies are different, with Sorrow. When he’d fantasized about girls
before, it was about how he’d chat them up, sweep them off their feet and take
them to bed, and how amazing it would be, how hard he’d make them come, how
they would worship him for it. If he was really infatuated, the fantasy would
continue into high school hallways and between classes or whatever. That’s what
it had been with Jane, before he had the opportunity to make his move. Then he
had made his move and, well, reality never quite follows the script though,
does it? Anyway, for what it's worth, reality is better.
But he had never before spent  hours  lying in bed fantasizing about cuddling,
or watching a girl breathe in her sleep. How fucking silly is that? He imagines
how it would be to have Sorrow there next to him every night, and it’s not even
about sex, it’s about  having her there , knowing she is happy and safe and
well. That  he  makes her happy. That no asshole gives her a bad time at school
ever again, that she has his shoulder to cry on whenever she needs it, that she
feels she can always go to him and feel at home. He fantasizes about magically
teleporting Sorrow from wherever it is that she lives and right into his house,
where he himself, and mom, and dad, and Loki, he guesses, would become her
family, and she’d never feel lonely anymore. She could have her big sister
visit even. It’s completely fucking insane, but in his dream scenarios, it’s
allowed, it’s possible, and it’s perfect.
These fantasies haven’t stopped just because she’s broken up with him and
disappeared. In fact, they’re more intrusive than ever. As in, he thinks of
little else all fucking day long.
He’s gone over their chats with a fine-tooth comb, trying to tease out any
revealing details that might have slipped in. He still does not understand why
she can’t tell him anything. It won’t let him live.
It won’t let him fucking live.
He wakes up, and spends his day, and goes to sleep, thinking of little else but
Sorrow. Missing Sorrow. Yearning for Sorrow. Craving Sorrow’s presence, her
words, the feeling of anticipation until the moment they could chat again, and
she’d be real again, for a bit. It’s not emptiness he feels inside, it’s almost
a thing you can touch, that craving. It claws at his insides–it  hurts . If
only he could understand  why  it isn’t possible between them, now or in the
future, why can’t she tell him anything, why can’t she even explain why she
can’t tell him anything. And why did she seem so afraid, so alarmed, whenever
he asked questions?  What is she so afraid of?  What if she’s in danger? What
if she’s putting herself at risk trying to protect  him ? If only he could have
a clear answer, or  any  answer, for that matter. If only he could make some
fucking sense of  why . A reason he could understand, something he could work
with, and process, and come to accept in time. Just, something.  Anything .
It’s driving him up the wall. How is he to let go? How is he ever going to get
over it and put it behind him?
 
“Hey,” Loki nudges him gently.
They’ve been parked in the school lot for a minute now, Thor’s eyes and mind
drifting. He gives his little brother another faint smile.
“Earth to Thor?”
Thor nods, acknowledges him.
“Go. I’ll be a minute.”
Loki returns a dim, miserable smile all of his own, but his eyes are brimming
with so much love and compassion and tenderness. He’ll be sixteen next week,
but right now he looks older, world-weary, like he’s been through a lifetime
already, and quite a rough one at that. Thor supposes that, in a way, he has.
He pulls Loki into a one-armed hug and ruffles his hair. Then a gentle shove.
“Go, smurf, you’ll be late. I’ll be out in a minute, I promise.”
Loki stares at him for another moment, his cheeks pink. That’s not right.
They’re  brothers ,  goddammit. Loki shouldn’t get flustered because his big
brother gives him a hug, but that’s how unusual these spontaneous
demonstrations of physical affection have become between them. How stupid. Loki
was always a cuddly kid. He drinks these things up, much more than words. And
he looks like he needs them. They should hug more.
Thor ruffles his hair again.
“Go,” he says softly, with a stroke/pat on his cheek, as he promises himself
he’ll make a point of being more touchy-feely from now on.
Loki grabs his bag, opens the door, and lingers.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” He seems as eager to get on with the day as Thor.
Poor baby, he never has a good time at school, does he?
“Uh-huh,” says Thor. And tries to be a better brother. “Come sit with me at
lunch, yeah?”
Loki’s eyes barely brighten up. He looks pretty low all the time these days.
They’ve been talking more often, but Loki keeps a lot to himself. Thor wishes
he could do more for him.  
“See you later. Come on, off you go,” urges Thor.
He wants to be alone for a couple of minutes, before he has to face the world.
Loki drags himself out of the car, and shuffles away. Thor looks on for a
moment, and thinks back to a boy of eight with gaps in his teeth, no hair and
no eyebrows, delighted because his big brother had deigned to spend some time
with him, piling up the board games on the floor, darting Thor quick looks,
trying to spot the tiniest suggestion that Thor was excited about any of them,
so he could pick the one. Thor would be chewing on his resentment and
frustration, forced to play with Loki indoors when what he really wanted was to
be out there with his mates, and he’d keep on the sour face for the duration,
even if mom wasn’t there to see it and feel bad about making him do what he
didn’t want to do. And Loki didn’t care, he didn’t give a fuck, he was just too
happy that his big brother was there spending some time with him, for a single
fucking hour of his day (Thor would have an eye on the clock.) How mean and
selfish and petty. Was it really so hard, was it such a fucking big sacrifice,
to play with his poorly baby brother for a little while? What a fucking asshole
he had been to him back then.
Suddenly, Thor feels the urge to run after his brother and give him a hug, a
proper one. But Loki’s already disappeared inside the building he fears and
hates so much. Thor wishes with all his heart that the assholes have taken the
day off today, and that Loki’s time at school passes quickly and painlessly. He
really really hopes so. He makes it into a little prayer.
He sighs, and pulls himself together as much as he can, and steps out of the
car. Another miserable day ahead. Only one thing to look forward to: taking
care of Loki a bit, make up for years and years of being a shitty brother,
feeling a little better for it, and hopefully make Loki feel better too. It’s
enough, he guesses. It will have to do, because that's pretty much all there
is.


                                       *


They’re at Chez Stark’s, that monster early-century mansion, allegedly working
on the project for the science fair.
It’s been five weeks now since Sorrow broke up with him. Thor still isn’t
sleeping properly. In fact, it’s getting worse. He’s read the last chat again
and again, and he’s now one hundred percent sure that Sorry is in some sort of
danger. Why would she sound so afraid otherwise? Why would she cut off so
suddenly?
An idea she’s had from the very beginning, but discounted because, well, he
didn’t have a right, now plagues his every waking hour. An idea that’s dubious
from a whole array of points of view, and it involves Tony Stark.
Today he’s at Stark’s, and Thor decides to ignore all the warning lights
surrounding this dubious idea of his, and jump at this chance. Enough is
enough.
 
“So tell me again, from the beginning,” says Stark. “She broke up with you. She
told you in non-equivocal terms she did not want to give you any personal
information, not even where she lived. She  literally  told you she was
breaking up with you  because  you were asking too many questions she could not
answer. And now you want me to help you find her? How the hell is that not
stalkerish?”
Thor huffs, tired of circling over the same arguments. He’s even shown Tony his
last conversation with Sorrow at one point, to try and sway him. Hasn’t helped
one bit.
“Tony, you don’t understand…”
“Clearly.”
“I’m concerned, alright? I mean, why can’t she tell me anything, not one thing?
What is she so afraid of?”
“We don’t know.”
“We don’t know! So what if she  is  in danger!”
“…She seems pretty adamant that the way to protect herself is to keep all that
sensitive information from  you . What if she’s in witness protection or
something, and you blow her cover? What if she’s the daughter of a mobster
engaged to marry a rival mobster, and this starts a gang war? What if she’s the
darling of a lesbian cult and she’ll be cast out if her sisters find out she’s
been dabbling with a boy? What if…?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t got a clue. I’m just saying you’re doing exactly what
she’s begged you not to do. What in her own words has ruined everything. What
gives you the right to overrule her decision and...”
“But what if it’s too late? What if she’s already in serious shit, and she’s
alone and helpless and I’m the only one who…”
“…Aaaand you’re grasping at straws. You just want her back.”
“Goddammit Stark!” Thor roars.
Tony frowns at him. His patience, already pretty strained, has a considerable
chunk cut off with Thor’s every moody outburst.
None of this is winning Stark over to his side. Deep breaths. Calm down. Or
appear calm, at least.
“Sorry. I… Sorry. I just. I need to know she’s alright. Please. Please help
me.”
Tony observes him through a suspicious squint.
“If I help you find her, what will you do with that information,” he asks.
“…Well, if she’s really in Alaska or in Europe or in Dubai or something I can’t
do much, can I?”
“What if she’s not. What if she’s one hundred miles away. What then. Will you
turn up at her door, and make whatever situation she’s trying to contain ten
times worse?”
The answer blossoms in Thor’s face in the shape of a thorough flush.
“No,” he makes himself say, and tries to mean it too.
“What then. What are you trying to achieve with this?”
Good question. All Thor knows is he’s been obsessing about this for weeks now,
working himself into a right state, Sorry’s silence on the chat deafening, and
Thor unable to come to terms with the fact that it can be over just like that.
And he sees Tony’s point, and he even agrees with it, on some level. An
important level even. He’s been brought up well enough to know that no means no
and stop means stop. He doesn’t want to be a stalker, he doesn’t want to
trespass, he doesn’t want to abuse Sorry’s confidence, and more than anything,
he doesn’t want to make her problems worse, whatever they are.
But he would like to be able to sleep again. He just wants to know she’s
alright. He just wants to know  why .
“I will not go knock on her door,” he pushes out, again trying to convince
himself as much as Stark. “I’ll call the police. Or social services. Or
something. I just want someone to-to go and check that she’s okay. That’s all.”
“What if that makes everything explode right in her face?”
“Then she definitely needs our help, goddammit!” snarls Thor.
Tony’s frown gets deeper. Thor’s temper is really, really not helping his
cause. He sighs, rubs his eyes. Like he said, he hasn’t been sleeping well.
He’s snappy.
After a moment, Tony’s expression softens. Thor must really look a mess.
“Listen,” sighs Tony, a long exhale, giving in. “Okay. This is what I am going
to do for you. And no, you don’t get to haggle. I will try and find her. I’ll
do some shady things -which I’m totally pinning on you if anything goes wrong-
to find out if there’s something fishy going on. If there is,  I  will call the
cops, or whatever agency I see fit. But I am  not  telling you where she is, or
how to find her. Is that acceptable to you? Because that’s all you’re gonna
get. If you’re not happy with that, get yourself another hacker.”
Thor is far, far from satisfied. But it’s a start. Perhaps if they find out
that Sorrow is actually at risk, Stark will be mollified and give Thor another
inch.
And hey, who knows, maybe if they find out why Sorry was hiding, and Thor can
make sense of it, he can fucking lay it to rest and get on with his fucking
life. Right now, he’ll take whatever he can get.
“Okay. Do it. Please.”
Tony sighs, and sits himself down on his swanky high-end ultra-ergonomic
designer swivel chair, which wouldn’t look out of place in the bridge of the
Enterprise.
“Why do I get myself into these things…” he grumbles, as he takes to the
keyboard and starts tapping. “What was the name of the dating app? Your
username and password,” he demands, in a toneless drone.
“This one over there, the square green icon. Storm99. Password is 'Hamm3rh3ad'.
The e’s are 3s.”
Tony gives him an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. After some tapping, in no time
at all, he’s in a place somewhere in the depths of the computer, a black screen
covered with lots and lots of commands in green.
“Please don’t hover over my shoulder, thank you,” says Tony curtly as he works.
“Sorry.”
Thor takes a seat on Stark’s couch (his room is enormous; it has an entire
living room on top of the usual accoutrements of a bedroom, and of course its
own bathroom and even a tiny kitchen, because one would have to walk like a
mile to get a glass of milk in this house otherwise, if there was only the one
kitchen; they probably use segways to move around the place.)  This should take
some time. Thor bounces his legs, realizes he’s doing it, makes himself stop,
but in a moment his mind is wandering and his legs are bouncing again.
However, it’s not been three minutes, when Tony sits back in his chair, with a
deep frown.
“That can’t be right,” he says.
Thor springs up to his feet.
“What?”
Tony does some more tapping. More commands on the black screen.
“Yyyup,” he says. “Okay. No. I don’t understand.”
“What?!” Thor is nearly out of his skin with agitation.
“The IPs. Look.”
“ What .” Thor is too wired to focus.
“Oh, for fucks sakes, Odinson. Just look.  Here . The IPs. They’re the  same .”
Thor follows Tony’s finger, pointing at a string of figures and letters on the
screen. He knows basic programming, and he can code, and though he may not be a
tech genius like Stark, he’s not IT illiterate. But he’s just too fucking hyped
to  think . Unable to compute.
“What do you mean, the same?”
“Well,” Tony clears his throat. “Uh, three options. One, I’m making a mistake,
which is not possible, not the same mistake four times, because I’ve checked.
Two ,  your girlfriend lives in your basement, or attic, or whatever. Three,
she’s a computer wiz and she’s done some seriously advanced work to cover her
tracks.”
Thor is looking at Stark’s face, completely baffled.
“Or somebody is playing a very elaborate prank,” shrugs Tony.
Thor straightens up, and goes cold and rigid. It’s that word,  prank .
“Buddy, you’ve gone pale,” says Tony. “Like, seriously pale. Are you going to
faint? Is it insulin related or…?”
The words come through a fog, they barely register.
It's impossible. It's fucking unthinkable.
Somebody is playing a very elaborate prank.
White noise. Sparks in his eyes. 
He covers his mouth, afraid he's going to puke.
Three months of conversations, and the fucking  rest  of it, running on a mad
loop in Thor’s head, like laundry tumbling in a washing machine. His stomach is
on a long, fast drop.
“I’m going to kill him,” he says, flat.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, because you make it sound like I’m
actually about to become an accessory to murder…” Stark’s tone is artificially
light, his words rapid fire. He’s joking, but he doesn’t find this funny. He’s
tense.
Thor hears him through the fog in his brain, as he starts to pick up his things
and stuff them any which way in his bag.
“Thor, my man, you’re sort of spooking me. Who do you…”
Thor is already at the door, and rushing away. Behind his back, he hears Tony
mumble, “Oh shit,  Loki .” Thor is already striding down the fucking main
avenue the Stark manor has for a hallway, when he hears Tony running after him.
“Thor, fucking wait a second! There has to be an explanation! What are you
going to do? Calm down for a minute!  Odinson !”
Thor makes it down the stairs and through the backdoor that leads to the drive.
He gets in his car.
“Oh boy,” is the last thing he hears Tony say, before he slams the door of the
car. “Oh boy.”
 Thor screeches back out of the drive, burning rubber, does a U turn, and
speeds away.
In his head, still that loop from hell from the last three months. Things
they’ve said. Things they’ve  done . The… the photos.
He’s swallowing down with determination the urge to be sick out of the fucking
window.


Screeching to a stop in their drive, slamming doors, stomping upstairs, and
when he barges into Loki’s room, there he is, on his stomach on the bed, on his
phone, pretending he hasn’t noticed a thing.
“Can’t you knock?” says his kid brother, feigning boredom.
Thor is shaking with an outrage so deep and terrible, he’s afraid of himself
right now. He is not in control. He’s never wanted to be wrong so badly in his
entire life. Terrified of what he will find, he still swoops in and snags
Loki’s phone right out of his hand.
“Hey!” Loki sits up in bed, indignant. “What the hell are you…”
Whatever Loki was saying dies on his tongue as Thor goes through the phone.
Loki’s quiet now, tense like a bowstring.
Shit, no, there’s the icon of the dating app. Please  god , no. His hands
shaking, Thor taps it.
And there it is, the log-in screen. And Thor is falling.
 
Username: One_for_Sorrow5654
 
There is a state beyond shock and rage and denial and horror, and Thor has
crossed over to it. He’s cold from head to toe.
He looks at his brother. He wants to see complete confusion in there, maybe an
angry frown. How does Thor dare or something. But Loki’s gone white, paper
white. Not that.  Not that.  Thor’s stomach manages to sink even further down.
It’s hard to breathe.
Thor turns the phone towards his brother, shows him the words on the screen.
Loki’s eyes are blown wide with fear. He’s shaking. Thor’s stomach heaves. He
will  be sick.
Until the very last second, until right  now , Thor had hoped for a blank stare
on his brother’s face, an unfazed expression, total incomprehension, annoyance
at being disturbed. It would mean somebody had been pranking them both. Failing
that, he would have taken a malicious smirk of victory, sleazy satisfaction, a
quip about what an idiot Thor had been, how he’s been had,  hah hah, look at
you, you totally fell for it didn’t you?
What he did not expect, what he does not know what to do with, what he cannot
fucking  endure , or deal with, is  that look . Loki is shivering visibly, his
chest heaving with panicked breathing, his bottom lip quivering like it always
does since he was a baby before he starts to cry. And he’s receding even
further into an imaginary corner, like a dog used to beatings, meek, unable or
unwilling to fight back, defeated before the pounding even starts. Makes Thor
want to  scream .
“What the fuck did you do,” he says, a soft, dangerous whisper instead of a
yell. He fears if he starts to shout he won’t be able to stop.
Loki’s eyes fill with tears; he curls up small and hugs his knees.
“You cry…?” seethes Thor. “You’re fucking  crying… ?”
Loki hides his face, and his shoulders begin to shake with quiet sobs.
“How… fucking dare you?” Thor’s voice is rising. Up and up and up. “What did
you fucking  do ?  How fucking dare you cry now?!”
Loki looks up, covering his mouth, eyes big and pleading, offering no answers,
either because there aren’t any, or because he can’t even speak, he’s sobbing
so hard.
Thor’s chest is burning with fire now.
“ Stop fucking crying!”   He’s looming over Loki, fists clenched by his sides,
threatening to rise, and he’s full on bellowing. “You don’t get to fucking cry
after what you’ve done!” And the rage only grows and grows inside him, making
his chest swell and cave in and  hurt . He roars like a wounded beast. “What’s
your fucking  problem ! Why the fuck did you  do  that? What the fuck is wrong
with you, you… sick  freak !”
“Thor!” comes a roar behind his back. “What the hell is going on here!”
Thor is frozen in place. Mom  never  swears.
“What’s going on here!” she repeats, a yell strangled with anguish. “What are
you  doing ?!”
Thor is huffing and puffing, sobs of rage. In his mind, in a horrible tumble,
all that has happened, replaying again and again. The things they’ve said, the
things they’ve done, the things they’ve… Loki and him. Loki, his  brother .
Thor’s face is burning hot, and his stomach is trying to turn inside out. He’ll
throw up if he tries to speak now.
Mom is standing between them, her eyes glassy with shock and fury, darting from
one son to the other.
Loki is trying to hold back the crying. He looks pathetic, and pitiful, and
younger than his age, just a little boy. His eyes are still wide and blank with
fright.
“Will one of you tell me what is happening here!” demands their mother.
“He-he said…” Thor’s voice is thick. He feels nauseous. “He said some things.”
“ What  things?!” shouts his mother, who never raises her voice. “What could he
possibly have said to justify you screaming at your brother like that! Calling
him that name!  What! ”
“About… about Jane,” tries Thor, scrambling for something to say.
Frigga still seems completely out of sorts, unbelieving. She turns to Loki.
“Is that true?” she asks Loki, her voice still loud, shrilling in that awful,
awful silence. “What did you say?”
Loki’s eyes are unfocused, his lips pressed tight. Mom seems to take that as an
assumption of guilt. He does look totally guilty.
“Why? Why in the world would you do such a mean and horrible thing? Why?!”
Loki’s lips tremble, his face scrunches up, and he goes into a fit of sobbing
again. He could not reply if he tried.
For once, though, mom’s expression doesn’t soften one bit. She turns to Thor,
her eyes just as hard.
“To your room, now,” she hisses to Thor. And to Loki, “You stay exactly where
you are.”
She slams Loki’s door behind her, and follows Thor to his bedroom. She slams
that door too. Thor starts.
She stands in front of him. It feels like she’s hovering over him, as if Thor
was little again.
“Thor Odinson, I have no words,” she tries to say, her voice breaking. Somehow,
that’s even worse than the screaming. Her eyes have never been so cold on him
before. “How could you…?” He swallows hard. She struggles for words. “Didn’t
you  see  how scared he was? Did you not  see  him? How could you call him
that  name! Precisely that name! After all he’s been through!”
Those three months keep replaying in Thor’s head like a loop from hell. Quick
flashes. Things that have been said. Things Thor has imagined. The… the fucking
photos . Oh,  god . He cannot even bear to think about it. He’s going to be
sick in a minute. Thor’s blind rage is cracking and becoming something else,
something much, much worse. His eyes are filling up.
“I-I was upset.” It comes out as a hoarse croak.
“ Upset …?” she repeats, her contempt for that answer swallowing the fucking
sun. It would hurt less to be slapped right across the face. “What made you so
upset that you…? What can possibly justify…?” The outrage stuck in her throat
won’t let her finish her sentences. “You know what, I don’t care!” she shouts,
making him jump. “I don’t fucking care what he did! If you ever treat your
brother like that again, you… heartless…  monster!  I don’t even  know  what
punishment would teach you how wrong, how terribly, awfully cruel… You scared
him to  tears ! Your little brother! You called him the one thing you know
hurts him more than anything! That was  despicable ! Do you understand? That’s
unforgivable !”
Thor looks into space and keeps his mouth shut and takes it.
She takes several deep, huffy breaths, trying to stifle her wrath.
“I’m going to speak to your brother now,” she says, her tone controlled, but
seething. “You stay exactly where you are, and start thinking about how you’re
going to apologize for what you said to him. I don’t care what he did.  Nothing
justifies what you called him.”
And she slams the door again behind her back.
The moment he is alone, the cracks in Thor’s solid armor of shock and fury
break through completely and crumble at his feet. That armor was the only thing
keeping him upright. He plummets onto the chair with shaky knees. He’s panting,
struggling for breath. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Among the
confusion and the anguish and the shame and the horror, some thoughts stand
out, flashing bright, like light caught in a blade just before it sinks in.
Loki is Sorrow. Sorrow is Loki.
The things they’ve said. The things they’ve  done .
The things he’s said to  Loki .
The things he’s done with  Loki .
He covers his mouth with both hands, and swallows hard. He’s going to puke.
Then another realization sets in.
Sorrow doesn’t exist. She’s gone. She was a fiction all along.
Sorrow does not exist.
The stab of grief takes him by surprise and leaves him breathless. The sudden,
shattering emptiness, the terrible end of all his hopes.
This is it. This is how it ends between Storm and Sorrow.
To think Thor believed he knew real pain because missing and craving was
painful. He had no fucking idea.


 
Chapter End Notes
     Yup, not finished with this yet. Actually, it's only just begun.
      
     PS: Dear "Update soon" people. Thank you very much for reading, for
     commenting, for your enthusiasm, really, thank you so much, I
     appreciate it. But YOU JUST /HAD/ AN UPDATE!! This shit is HARD!!
     May I suggest you try "I'll be waiting for the next update" or even
     "I can't wait for the next update" if absolutely necessary. I'm also
     considering having a tip jar in my blog. I WILL try harder for money.
     That is all.
     Love,
     A grateful but slightly harassed writer <333
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