Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/769078.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Thor_(2011)
  Relationship:
      Loki/Thor
  Character:
      Loki_(Marvel), Thor_(Marvel)
  Additional Tags:
      Human_AU, Sibling_Incest, Fingerfucking, Sex_on_a_Car, Road_Trips, only
      an_underage_warning_because_loki_is_seventeen
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-21 Words: 5417
****** Where We Went Wrong ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     And there are thousands of miles between them and home, except not
     really: They're right next to each other, after all.
Notes
     i need to give thanks to Abby and Dragon for helping me with ideas
     and also motivating me to complete this thing. you guys are the best,
     ok. ; v ;
     also, the title is taken from Ho Hey, by The Lumineers, purely
     because I could imagine Thor and Loki singing it together while they
     went on their little trip. as in, windows down and yelling at the top
     of their lungs and almost getting pulled over "singing."
i.
They have two sleeping bags in the back, three extra blankets in case the
season gets colder, back seats that are seldom devoid of food, and one-
thousand-miles-and-counting between them and the place they call home.
Thor does a lot of the driving, while Loki is mostly happy to sit and dictate
in the passenger seat.
They have a two-liter bottle of soda between them that, on some days, they’ll
take turns with, and on other days they’ll fight over like they used to do with
their toys. Today is a case of the latter, and today Thor has won.
Before they pull away from the gas station, Loki takes out a map of whichever
state they’re in and spreads it out all over the dashboard. Meanwhile, Thor
occupies himself by flicking through the radio stations, indecisive: landing on
a promising one, staying for four or five seconds, switching, and then
repeating again and again until Loki grouses, “Just fucking pick one.”
Thor kisses him affectionately on the side of his lips, threatens to shove a
bar of soap in his mouth, and then, out of spite, puts in a disc containing
some remix that a girl had made for him.
He sings along, purposely loud and horribly off-key, as he maneuvers the car
off the road. They’re passing through some small town in Kentucky, and Loki
estimates that they’ll be in Illinois before the night ends.
When they stop at a red light near the outskirts of town, they’re the only ones
on the road, so Loki folds the map up all nice and neat, packs it away with the
other state maps they’ve collected, and promptly leans over.
“Hey,” Thor says, clearly expecting anything but Loki’s fingers suddenly on his
zipper. He jolts as if he’s been struck by lightning, and his hand accidentally
slams down on the horn.
Loki laughs, and it’s terrible because he’s right there, practically nuzzling
his older brother’s thigh and–
“No,” Thor grits out, fisting the back of his hair and pulling him up. Loki’s
easily shoved back to his seat, and he licks his lips, wishing Thor would use
that force for another purpose. “Not again.”
Because he’s twenty one and Loki is barely seventeen and if there’s anything
that two brothers on a road trip should be doing, it really shouldn’t be this.
“Not right now?” Loki asks hopefully, innocently, and Thor drags a hand down
his face with a groan.
 
 
ii.
Loki was eleven-almost-twelve and Thor was sixteen when the tensions between
their father and the older son finally snapped.
Thor packed his things and left. Loki spent the following days alternating
between wondering why his brother wasn’t there when he came home from school
and worrying if it had been his fault.
 
 
iii.
They only have so much money; motels are avoided as much as possible, which is
fine with Thor; he pulls the car over the side of some empty road, and he and
Loki fit into the back, take their respective blankets, and fight over who gets
the third.
“Clearly me,” Loki announces, “because I’m smaller and more likely to freeze to
death.”
“I can’t drive with frozen fingers,” Thor reminds him. Plus, Loki’s tolerance
level for the cold is almost as high as his ego.
His brother jumps at the opportunity: “I can!”
It ends with a stalemate – or, rather, with Loki suddenly de-maturing about ten
years, pulling his blanket over his head, rolling over, and leaving Thor unable
to really claim the extra blanket without feeling bad.
“Fine. We’ll share it tonight, brat,” Thor grumbles, sidling up behind him and
throwing the other blanket over both of them.
They’ve pushed the back seats down so they would have more room to sleep. They
barely fit anyway, but over weeks’ time they’ve grown accustomed to it; the two
brothers have no trouble falling asleep that night.
 
 
iv.
(They’re not actually brothers, no. Thor’s seen the papers, right before he
first left home. He doesn’t think Loki knows, and he’s perfectly content to
keep things that way.)
 
 
v.
The next day, Thor wakes at quarter past six. The sun isn’t up yet, so he takes
his time to fully wake by staring at the car ceiling and contemplating things.
Loki’s attached to him like a leech, soft snores emitting from his parted lips.
The sun’s rays are just touching the dashboard when Thor finally gets up.
Loki’s arms come loose from around his neck and slip down with a thump. It
doesn’t wake him, which slightly worries Thor because usually Loki is the
lighter sleeper. He tucks the extra blanket around his brother, and since he’s
not there to provide his arm as a pillow anymore, he takes one of their rolled-
up sleeping bags and props it underneath Loki’s head.
As quietly as he can, he makes his way to the plastic bags in the far corner of
the back. He takes out a box of granola bars, which he estimates will take him
no less than thirty minutes to finish, and then a bag of Cheetos. It’s Loki’s
self-proclaimed favorite breakfast item, and while Thor disapproves and
constantly tries to get him to eat something better, he supposes it can’t hurt
on this one occasion. And he thinks Loki may still be a little mad at him from
last night.
It’s almost laughable, how much he values Loki’s opinion of him. Loki has no
trouble shooting him down, and Thor is the same way with little, trivial
matters – but he never makes a decision without looking back a few seconds
later to make sure he hadn’t made Loki unhappy.
He left his brother alone for almost five years. He thinks that this is his
strange way of atoning for it.
 
 
vi.
The part that had scared him the most was the ease with which Loki welcomed him
back into his life.
Thor had literally pulled into their driveway for the first time in years, got
out, and met Loki in the front. He doesn’t remember now what Loki had been
doing, but there had been a magnifying glass in his hand, and the sun was out,
so maybe he was trying to burn ants on the sidewalk.
“Hey,” he had said, dumbly, despite the amount of thinking and mulling and
planning he’d done over the seven-hour drive from there to here.
 
 
vii.
“You’re back.” Or maybe Loki hadn’t been burning ants after all, because Thor
remembers him getting off a bike. Or maybe he had imagined so many scenarios
that he’s just confusing them all now.
“Uh…you hungry?” Loki’s knees were scraped – that he does remember. He was
taller, his hair was longer, and all the soft lines from his face had been
replaced by subtle curves and angles: the shape of his eyes, the high of his
cheekbones.
Their father hadn’t been home, and no, Thor wasn’t hungry, but Loki shrugged
like it was no big deal and went on to fry three eggs, then ate them all.
Of the hundreds of scenarios Thor had imagined, none were good, except one:
where time had stopped as soon as he pealed out of that driveway and only
resuming when he finally came back; the years would have not passed; Loki would
still be as he was; Thor would be able to look at his little brother without
shame threatening to crawl its way up his throat.
The actual outcome had been close, frighteningly so, and it–
 
 
viii.
Loki hadn’t marked their destination on the map, and Thor seldom knows where
they’re actually headed, so he follows a road that’s supposed to lead them
right into Illinois. A few minutes before arrival, he hears rustling, and
without looking back he knows Loki has woken.
His brother crawls through the space between the two front seats and makes
himself comfortable in the passenger’s side. He plucks the bag of Cheetos from
where it’s resting against the gear shift and wastes no time in opening it.
“How long have you been driving?” he asks, curling up in his seat with the
chips in his lap. He reminds Thor of a cat watching over its young – except the
young in question are Cheetos.
“An hour, give or take,” Thor replies. A sign for a pit stop catches his eye,
and he raises an eyebrow at his brother.
“Sure, sure.” Loki waves his hand dismissively at the silent question. “I need
to-“ He shifts, and his breakfast almost falls to the floor. “-oh, fuck-“
Thor listens to the grumbling that follows, torn between feeling amused or
concerned at how much his little brother cursed. “You know, I wonder what
happened to that kid who once heard me accidentally swear and then acted like I
was guilty of all the seven deadly sins.”
Loki hits him, and Thor swerves the car on purpose, eliciting a horrified
squeal from his brother.
“Well,” Loki says a few minutes later, when Thor isn’t laughing anymore and his
face isn’t as red, “you can’t really get through high school without being able
to stand up for  yourself.”
“You can stand up for yourself without cursing every other word-“
“I don’t do that!”
“-and I got through it just fine, so I’m sure you could have, too.”
“You dropped out and didn’t stick around to see how I’d do, so how would you
know?”
They come to a sudden stop. Thor is glad that the parking lot is relatively
empty still, because the car isn’t exactly in the best parking position.
“There,” Loki says, chewing loudly on a Cheeto. “Go piss– oh, I’m sorry, I
mean, go utilize the bathroom.” He unfolds his legs and props them up on the
dashboard, wiggling his socked toes. He resumes eating.
This is one of those times where talking to Loki feels the same way as trying
to navigate a mine field. Thor doesn’t want to set off any more, so he gets
out.
If he takes longer than usual, Loki seems to find nothing amiss with it and
greets him with a simple, “That took you long enough.”
Thor tosses him a pack of gummy worms through the car window and then maneuvers
the car to the gas station.
 
 
ix.
 Illinois seems like a quiet place, or maybe it’s just the town they’re in.
They stop at a restaurant for lunch wherein Loki tries to pass off as a ten-
year-old.
“Two adults, then?” the hostess at the front asks them pleasantly.
“Yes-“ Thor begins, but Loki interrupts with an aghast, “Adult?”
And they’ve pulled this trick off once before, so Thor doesn’t even need to act
surprised. “Oh, right,” he amends himself. “Could we get a kids’ menu, please?”
The hostess looks about to object, but Loki takes Thor’s hand and smiles
brightly. She looks to Thor for help, but he only tries to look apologetic.
Half an hour later, they’re seated across each other in a booth, Loki wolfing
down the three kids’ meals he’d ordered. Thor doesn’t understand why his
brother does things like these, especially if they are both aware that Loki
could eat like a starved madman.
Loki talks animatedly in between bites, always as if nothing wrong had ever
happened between them. Thor listens in rapt attention, following his brother’s
wild hand gestures and the way his eyes light up at certain parts, and he can’t
help but wonder if this is what he missed out on for five years.
“Are you even paying attention to me?” Loki’s saying.
Thor rolls his eyes. “No, I’m just doing some soul-searching with your eyes.”
Loki makes a pleased noise and leans forward. “How much of it have you found? I
was starting to think mine was nonexistent.”
“You’ve got plenty of it,” is all Thor says, before he swipes a fry with
ketchup and throws it at his younger brother’s face.
 
 
x.
Their next stop is, inexplicably, some hunting shop about two blocks away,
where Loki takes an almost disturbing inclination to the counter display of
guns. He also puts on one of those fur hats and demands that Thor take a
picture of him.
“You’re seventeen,” Thor says, incredulous, but still snapping a picture with
his phone nonetheless.
“And I’ve still got three months of it left.”
At one point, he takes to touching as many deer heads as he can (read:
caressing), while Thor boggles over the existence of his brother.
By the time they finally leave, the man at the register looks ready to bust a
vein. Both of them are barely stifling their laughter.
 
 
xi.
They haven’t bathed in three days, so they rent a motel room that night. They
discuss Vacancy on their way to room 7, with Thor proposing that it could
happen while Loki denies it vehemently.
“Also, we’re not a newly married couple.” Loki has pointed this out at least
four times by now. Thor thinks it a little funny.
Thor calls the shower first. Loki has no qualms about it, as long as he doesn’t
use up all the hot water. When Thor finishes, he finds Loki flicking idly
through the TV channels, with their food all unpacked on the table.
Loki disappears into the bathroom; Thor changes and then takes his place on the
bed, opening one of the novels that Loki brought with them. He’s not
particularly interested, but it helps pass the time until Loki comes back out
and they can eat dinner together.
He doesn’t notice when his brother returns, not until there’s suddenly a warm,
wet body on top of him.
“You’re reading my book,” Loki says, resting his chin on his head.
Thor struggles to look back – and regrets it. “You’re naked.”
“It’s called what happens after you just come out of a shower.”
“You don’t even have a towel.”
A finger draws slow, deliberate designs into his back. “You’re not really
complaining.”
Thor twists and switches their positions, Loki landing beneath him with a soft
“oof.” He places his hands on either sides of Loki’s head and studies his
brother.
“Can I kiss you?” Loki asks as Thor says, “Are you still mad at me?”
And Loki says, “What for?” at the same time Thor quips, “Usually you don’t
ask.”
They stare at each other, and then they burst into laughter.
“No, but seriously.” Thor leans down until their foreheads are brushing. “This
morning, I…”
“-didn’t do anything wrong,” Loki interrupts him firmly. He reaches up and
cards his fingers through Thor’s hair, which is still a little damp from his
own shower. “Sorry. I’m still trying to figure out how to be angry at you.”
Thor stares at him. “It’s been…two weeks?” He refuses to get sidetracked by
Loki’s touch. “You have every right to be angry at me, so why- Why don’t you
get angry more often?” It would certainly be easier, as opposed to spending so
much time thinking about whether Loki secretly despises him or not. He hates
that his brother is so hard to read.
“I don’t want to be,” Loki murmurs. “I spent five years doing that. Now that I
have you back, and I don’t if and when you’re going to take off again, do you
really think that’s how I’m going to spend my time with you?”
Thor’s hand curls into a fist, crumpling the ugly cream-colored sheets. “I’m
not going to leave again.”
Loki smiles up at him. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Now kiss me and prove it.”
Thor kisses his forehead.
With an impatient sigh, Loki tightens his grip on his hair, drags his head
lower, and kisses him – properly – on the mouth. Thor makes some noise of
protest, but Loki ignores it in favor of running his other hand doing his
brother’s still-clothed chest.
“And get this off,” he mutters, pinching the cloth. “The ratio of the clothes
on me compared to the clothes on you is very uneven.”
He doesn’t wait for Thor to comply, hooking a finger on the hem of his shirt
and giving a tug upwards. Thor catches his wrist before he gets too far and
pins it down beside his head.
Loki cranes his head to look at him. Thor takes the chance to lean down and
kiss his neck, almost reverent in doing so; his brother’s skin is soft and
inviting, and it isn’t just his neck he wants to kiss; he also wants his cheeks
and his lips and his forehead, and then his shoulders and arms and chest, and
then downwards on until he’s covered every inch of him.
It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t recall ever feeling like this towards Loki, his
younger brother, yet here they are now.
He trails his free hand down Loki’s chest, taking in each dip of muscle and
committing them to memory, further until he reaches the curve of Loki’s waist.
It elicits a quiet whimper from the younger, and it only makes Thor determined
to earn more of it. He loves his brother so, so, so much.
 When he reaches Loki’s cock, it’s already half hard. Loki whines and bucks his
hips upward for more contact, and Thor gladly gives it, wrapping his fingers
loosely around the heated flesh. “Here?” he teases, stroking experimentally,
and Loki slams his head back down on the sheets with a frustrated sigh. Thor
makes no effort to hide his grin.
“I hate you,” his baby brother grits out.
Thor picks up the pace, absolutely relishing in the small sounds that he earns
from Loki’s tongue. He wants to kiss those parted lips, but that would mean
silencing him – and Loki’s noises were his primary driving force.
His brother’s cock is fully hard and dripping pre-cum. The moans and whimpers
die out, replaced by fervent curses as Loki nears his climax. A wicked idea
pops into Thor’s mind and he releases Loki’s wrist to shove three fingers into
his brother’s mouth.
“Suck.” He nips at Loki’s jawline, his hand suddenly stilling. Loki’s hands fly
up to try and pry his forearm off, but Thor pumps his hand once, twice,
torturously slow – and stops again. Loki’s eyes are burning with malice, but he
learns to acquiesce. Thor feels his tongue slowly swiping the underside of his
digits, wetting them, and he groans before he can help himself.
Loki sucks ardently, and Thor swallows, imagining what that mouth would feel
like on his-
“That’s enough.” He withdraws his fingers and Loki makes a show of licking his
lips. He guides his coated fingers to Loki’s ass and there, asks – “Ready?”
Loki uses both hands to pull him down for their nth kiss that night, this one
messy and fervent. Thor presses the first finger inside and swallows the
resulting moan. “Does it- hurt?” he whispers, never ever wanting to hurt his
brother.
“No, just feels a little strange,” Loki replies, sounding breathless. His eyes,
darkened with need, flickered up to meet Thor’s, widening incrementally with
each careful thrust of Thor’s hand.
When he feels that he’s ready, Thor adds a second finger. He starts moving his
other hand to the same pace, hoping to drown out the pain with pleasure. By the
time he’s three fingers deep in Loki, his brother is panting his name out like
a mantra, and if he’d known that Loki is this responsive, he would have started
this sooner.
“Stop,” Loki bites out, breath hot against Thor’s cheek, “treating me like I’m-
made of glass- because I’m not-“
Thor kisses his face, the corner of his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. “I don’t
want to hurt you.”
“You’re not.” Loki hikes a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. Thor
thinks him beautiful like this, spread out before him. “A-Ah, please, brother,
I need it-“
Thor shoves his fingers in suddenly, effectively silencing Loki. “Like this?”
he murmurs into Loki’s lips. “Do you want me to treat you roughly? Do you want
me to take my fingers and fuck you with them, little brother?”
Loki whimpers, barely managing a nod. He bites his lip and braces himself, and
is right in doing so; a split second later, Thor’s expression hardens and then
he’s doing just as he said. Obscene squelching noises fill the room as he
shoves his fingers into Loki again and again, no longer with a sense of
carefulness.
“So this is how you like it,” he utters, “hard and fast – why, almost like a
slut-“ He starts curling his fingers slightly each time he slides them in, his
pace momentarily switching to slow and deep as he searches for that one spot.
He knows he’s found it when Loki’s eyes suddenly fly wide open and he lets out
a strangled moan, a sound that escalates into something resembling a scream
when Thor resumes fucking him in earnest.
“You feel so tight, Loki. I can only imagine how tight you will be around my
cock.” Thor starts stroking his brother’s cock in time, causing Loki to cant
his hips for more more more. “I’ll mark you mine, and if that isn’t enough –
I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk properly the next day, and surely then
everyone will know who you belong to.” His hand never once falters, the pace
almost brutal now. Each time, he sinks his fingers all the way to the third
knuckle, withdrawing, then slamming back in again.
“Thor,” Loki almost sobs, “stop, stop, it’s too much, oh-“
“Do it, Loki.” Thor thumbs the tip of his cock. His own arousal is straining in
his jeans, but he ignores it in favor of watching his little brother come.
“Come for me, you can do it.” He doesn’t less stop, despite Loki’s hand on his
wrist, trying to get him to at least slow down. This is what Loki asked for,
and this is what he is receiving.
With one last push of his fingers, he has Loki coming undone beneath him, his
cock spurting seed across their chests.
Thor moves his fingers a few more times, and Loki makes muffled noises of
protest until he finally takes them out. His hand is covered in cum and he taps
it against Loki’s lip. Looking weary, Loki accepts the fingers into his mouth
and ardently licks it clean.
“You were so good, Loki,” Thor whispers, kissing his forehead. “So, so, good.”
 
 
xii.
The next morning, he wakes up to Loki between his legs, licking the tip of his
cock coquettishly.
 
 
xiii.
“What are we doing?” Thor asks the ceiling breathlessly as Loki nuzzles into
his side, looking satisfied with himself. And it’s only morning, too.
He did not take Loki with him to do– this.
His younger brother yawns, obviously not as concerned. “Whatever we want.”
 
 
xiv.
They leave the motel before the afternoon, setting off for Wisconsin. Loki has
his Cheetos in one hand and the map in the other, and then, as they’re waiting
for a red light to turn, he asks very, very casually, “Am I now allowed to suck
you off during red lights, then?”  
Thor gets to have the bottle of Pepsi that day.
 
 
xv.
Their first “incident” had been mere days after they left home. Thor had asked
about what happened while he was gone – had their father done anything, how was
Loki, and so on.
And Loki, very quietly, had said, “He hit me. Once.”
Thor had pulled over on the side of the road, took the keys out of the
ignition, turned in his seat, and demanded, “What?”
“It was a few days after you left,” Loki said, not looking up from his map. “He
was drunk, though, and afterwards he never stopped apologizing for it.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that he hit you.” Thor swallowed. “Where?”
Loki tapped a finger to his cheek. “Here. It bruised for a little while, but my
friend Leah helped me cover it up.”
“Jesus, Loki,” Thor breathed. “I’m- Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Loki shrugged, still not looking at him. “It wasn’t your fault. Now, if we want
to make it through Virginia by today, you’re going to have to start driving
again.” He never told Thor that the reason his father had hit him, that the
reason he had been drunk, was because he’d left.
No, Loki had not yet been so merciless.
"Loki," Thor said quietly, "please, look at me."
Loki didn't listen, so Thor opted to take his brother's chin in a hand and
force him to. Loki, feeling particularly spiteful, leaned forward the extra
distance and kissed him.
Thor looked stunned.
"Now drive," Loki had said and, ignoring his pounding heart, returned to his
map.
 
 
xvi.
They find a nice park in Wisconsin called Mirror Lake. It’s open year-round and
even though it’s nearing the end of autumn, today is not too cold. Loki manages
to coax Thor into spending the night at one of the campsites.
“I thought you hated the outdoors,” Thor points out as they carry their things
across the lake. It’s actually beautiful out here.
“Not today,” Loki says, and Thor will never fully understand his younger
brother.
They find a spot in a clearing and lay out their sleeping bags. Loki wants to
start a bonfire, but Thor puts his foot down on that one. They end up sitting
next to each other, sharing a pile of three blankets, eating a dinner
consisting of granola bars, chocolate rolls, some apples, Mountain Dew, and
chips. Loki hogs the chips and Thor eats most of the chocolate rolls. Neither
really mind.
The stars come out, and Thor thinks this is supposed to be romantic – except
Loki keeps swatting and grumbling angrily at the mosquitos. He finally gives up
and curls up in Thor’s arm, and Thor shields him from the pesky little things.
“Escort me to my sleeping bag,” Loki says.
Thor helps him into one of them, and a few minutes after Loki disappears in it,
Thor hears him shout, “Wrong bag!”
“Does it matter?” He pokes the lump.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Loki remains to be seen, and for a second Thor
worries that he’s gotten lost in there. Or something. “…This thing smells of
you.” Thor wants to offer the second sleeping bag, but at the same time, Loki
sounds…fond. So he waits, and when Loki says no more on the matter, he smiles
and opens up his own sleeping bag.
The stars are beautiful tonight.
 
 
xvii.
The next morning, Loki has, for some reason unknown, mosquito bites on his
lower legs. The fabric of his pants irritates them, so he resigns to wearing
boxers while they pack their things back into the car.
It escalates, also for some reason unknown, into Loki bent over the hood of
their car, their clothes discarded on the grass, and Thor’s fingers leaving
bruises on his hips as he slams into him with abandon.
And afterwards, Loki has the gall to ask: “Are you only doing this because you
still feel guilty about leaving me?” He shifts, uncomfortable. “Because
that’s…”
Thor shuts him up with a kiss, and then starts thrusting again, taking in
Loki’s surprised little “oh,” and fucking him to a second orgasm.
Later, as they emerge from the state park, they run into two other campers who
were slightly worried because they’d heart some screaming.
“Oh, that was him,” Thor says unapologetically, nodding towards Loki and
ignoring his brother’s indignant sputters. “He thought he saw a bear and was
running through the forest – he ended up tripping. And now he’s limping.”
The campers nod sympathetically.
Loki smiles, all teeth and all pure intent. (Of retribution.)
 
 
xviii.
Thor can’t look at the front of their car without blushing.
Loki laughs at him.
"I hate you," Thor grumbles-
-to which Loki replies with: "I love you." It makes Thor turn around, the
amount of actual sincerity in his voice. His cheeks might be a faint red, and a
ghost of a smile is playing on his brother's lips. "But I think you know that."
"It's still nice to hear," Thor replies, and he thinks, Yeah, you definitely
have a soul.
 
 
xix.
Their last stop before heading home is Lake Superior.
“I’d like to live here,” Loki says wistfully as he twirls a stick into the
water. “It’s nice. There wouldn’t be any neighbors to worry about.” He turns to
Thor. “You said you worked at a woodshop once, right? How much should I pay you
to build me a cabin before nightfall?”
“Do you want to camp out here tonight?” Thor asks instead, but he knows the
answer.
Loki shakes his head. “But I do want to stay for the… Can we stay and watch the
stars?”
 
 
x.
They do.
Thor would say that they were beautiful again, except he wouldn’t really be
sure. Loki is far too distracting.
And there are thousands of miles between them and home, but not really: They're
right next to each other, after all.
 
 
xi.
They leave before it gets too late. Loki is half asleep, so Thor practically
carries him into the car. He lays him down in the back, gives him all three
blankets, and kisses his cheek before returning to the driver’s seat.
He drives all night, listening to some radio station that plays nothing but
Mexican music.
The sun’s just coming up the horizon when he feels Loki kneel behind his seat,
his brother’s arms coming around him, and a whispered, “What the fuck are we
listening to?”
 
 
xii.
During one of their stops, Thor orders some takeout while Loki peruses a gift
shop next door. It’s night time, and when Thor comes out, his brother is
surrounded by a group of three men, clearly drunk, in the alleyway between the
diner and the gift shop.
“Hey!” Thor shouts at them. “You better have money – he doesn’t come for free!”
The guys go bug-eyed and scramble.
After ensuring that his brother hadn’t been harmed, Loki asks him, “Did you
just basically imply that I was a prostitute?”
They laugh too loudly.
 
 
xiii.
The ride home is just as entertaining as the ride to. Thor doesn’t see why it
shouldn’t be – a difference is, they don’t make as many stops, only doing so to
refill the gas tank, buy more snacks, or use the bathroom.
It’s funny, Thor thinks. Neither of them really want this to end yet, so how
come they aren’t putting it off?
“Thor,” Loki says.
They’re about half a mile away from when they’d last stopped.
Thor passes the bottle of Dr. Pepper to him. “Yeah?”
Loki shakes his head wildly, pushing the soda away. And then he says, literally
five minutes since they left the pit stop and Loki why didn’t you just go then:
“I need to use the bathroom.”
 
 
xiv.
They make it home in one piece.
Their father isn’t home, but Loki reckons he will be, later. They have a little
bit of time to themselves.
Thor’s taking out the sleeping bags and the blankets, and after Loki throws
away the last of their trash, he says, “So, uh, you hungry?”
“Not really,” Thor replies, but they go in nonetheless and Loki fries up five
eggs and then eats four of them. (Thor caves and takes one.)
“Thank you,” Loki says, putting down his fork. “For… For the trip.”
Thor smiles at him. “Any time.”
And neither of them say it, but the question is heavily implied: Are you
leaving again?
Are you?
Loki stands, starting to clear the table. Their father should be home any
minute. “So, my birthday’s in two months,” he says casually, disappearing into
the kitchen. Thor follows after him.
“Wow, little brother, you’ll finally be a man.”
“And to celebrate, you should take me out.”
Thor raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “And where do you
suggest we go?”
Loki’s facing the sink, but Thor doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s
smiling, too. The younger hums thoughtfully. “I was thinking Nunavut.” He
leaves the dishes in favor of moving closer to Thor.
It takes a second to process: “…Canada?”
 
 
xxv.
No, he actually isn’t that surprised. But he feigns it, because he likes it
when Loki looks pleased.
“Do you know how far north that is?” He settles his hands on Loki’s waist.
“Well, then,” Loki says easily, throwing his arms around Thor’s shoulders, “I
suppose it will be a long drive.”
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