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Prior to his regular attendance at Odin’s council meetings, Thor had never truly appreciated the extent to which something could be both stressful and mind-numbingly boring at the same time.
Loki is, as ever, in his element: imperious at Thor’s side, coolly reading his way through the extensive paperwork provided to them in respect of the council’s forthcoming discussions. He either does not notice or does not care that the youngest council member besides he and Thor is older than their ages combined, just one of a dozen sour-faced snobs who look upon the both of them as children playing at politics.
“Brother. Stop pouting,” Loki murmurs, quiet enough to go unheeded by anyone but Thor. His focus remains firmly on the documents before him, sparing Thor not even a momentary glance.
“I’m not pouting,” Thor replies in suitably hushed tones. “I am reading, as are you.”
Looking briefly around the room, the other council members are either absorbed in their reading or engaged in quiet discussions amongst themselves. Thor is grateful for the vastness of their table, silently edging his chair closer to Loki’s whilst everyone’s attention is elsewhere.
“No,” Loki says, still not looking at him. “You are pouting because you don’t want to be here and you dislike these people almost as much as I do. And yet, if anyone here has reason to be annoyed, it is I.”
Thor turns to the next page of the document he is holding, hoping it might appear as though they are discussing the issues at hand should any prying eyes turn on them.
“Please do tell, brother,” Thor says flatly, staring at the words before him until they begin to blur together. “I am dying to hear what vexes you so.”
Loki gives a frustrated little huff. “You see, when I awoke this morning, I was quite alone in my bed. And yet, when I fell asleep last night, I am certain I was not.”
“Loki, I was in the library,” Thor reminds him. “Preparing for this meeting. I did tell you of my plans.”
There is little point in reasoning with Loki when he is like this. Thor knows he is not half so cross as he appears, and it is better to let him sulk and have his fun.
Loki looks to Thor, distinctly unimpressed, and then turns back to his papers. Neatly runs one manicured fingernail across the page as if engrossed by its contents.
“I had need of you, when I awoke,” Loki informs him. His voice is so soft now that Thor strains to hear him. “I took three of my fingers inside me. Do you know what they felt like? Dissatisfaction.”
Thor bites down on the inside of his lip, his pulse leaping in his throat. He promptly tries his best to school his expression into one of polite interest.
“Is that so,” Thor murmurs when he finally finds himself able, his mouth dry. He doesn’t dare breathe.
“Not to worry; I made sure to be thorough in my preparations. I’m still slick with oil. Ready for you. You could bend me over this table right now and I could take your cock with little effort at all,” Loki continues, as casually as if they were discussing the weather. Thor swallows, braving a glance in Loki’s direction, and catches his eye for a brief but heated moment when Loki does the same in return. He is thankful for the layers of his clothing and the fact he is seated, for his cock is taking an interest to say the least. “You don’t believe me,” Loki says thoughtfully, arranging his documents into a neat and tidy stack. He adds, somewhat louder in volume and with an air of finality, “I can assure you, Thor, it is quite true.”
A tall, grey-haired woman seated beside their father turns to them, as dreary-looking and unconvinced by their presence as ever. “What is true, Your Highness?”
Sigrid, Thor thinks. Sigrunn, perhaps? The members’ names and faces blur into one sometimes, and they don’t deign to converse with him long enough to leave a lasting impression. He slides down in his chair slightly, and hopes his face is not as flushed as it feels.
“That Vanaheim intend to relax the limitations of their trade agreements with Asgard by the year’s end,” Loki says smoothly. “It isn’t pertinent to our imminent discussion on the issues facing the southern vineyards, of course, but given the opportunities this could present it might be worthwhile if we consider -- ”
-- and so he goes on. As frustrating as it is to have to keep up with yet another unexpected debate -- one for which Thor feels mightily underprepared, in addition to having been thrown off-balance by Loki’s previous words -- he cannot help but marvel at Loki’s ability to shape these talks however he sees fit. For every word he speaks aloud his mind appears to be several steps ahead of everyone else, carefully calculating each offered idea until they all forget their doubts and nod along in agreement.
The next hour feels like it lasts an eternity, the discussions stretching on and on whilst Thor attempts to keep up as best he can. It is made all the more difficult by Loki’s earlier provocation planting tempting images in his mind’s eye; he tries his damnedest not to dwell on them but finds his train of thought veering off every few minutes despite his efforts.
At last Odin sets aside his papers and gets to his feet, declaring that the council should take a break and reconvene shortly. For Thor, it is an effort not to sigh audibly with relief at finally having the opportunity to escape, even if only temporarily. He feels restless to the point of distraction.
Loki catches Thor’s eye as they stand, giving an almost imperceptible nod. The room is large, with doorways to the east and to the west: Loki heads out of one and Thor leaves by the other, back to back, not a word shared between them.
***
They meet all of thirty seconds later in an empty chamber close by, each having taken a different circuitous route to get there. Thor has lately come to think of the room as theirs, as silly as it seems, since it appears to be little-used for anything but brief romantic trysts.
“You are impossible,” Thor says, crowding Loki firmly up against the exposed stone wall no sooner than he has finished locking the door behind them. “The worst and most maddening -- ”
“Be quiet and get your cock out,” Loki interrupts sharply. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
Ah, and Loki is as demanding as he is impatient today. Thor decides to make him wait for his insolence, even if just for a moment. He slides the fingers of one hand into Loki’s hair and twists, holding him firmly as he looks upon his lovely, upturned face with fond exasperation before fitting their mouths together in lieu of answering.
The soft sigh of pleasure Loki breathes against his mouth is a wonderful thing, and he grasps eagerly at Thor’s waist as Thor slots one knee between his thighs. Loki works one hand between their bodies as they kiss, his fingers making fast work of the laces on Thor’s breeches. He draws Thor’s cock out, already half-hard, and has it thickening further in his grasp with every firm stroke he bestows on it.
Groaning, Thor pushes into the perfect warmth of Loki’s grip, resting his forehead against Loki’s and letting his eyes fall closed.
“I wasn’t lying,” Loki says. “I really am ready for you.”
Heat flares in Thor’s belly. “Norns,” he murmurs, reaching down to brush his fingers over Loki’s breeches. “Get rid of these, would you?”
Thor blinks and they’re gone along with Loki’s boots, only his tunic remaining. He wastes no time in getting his hands all over the skin he finally has access to and gods, there’s nothing like the feel of Loki’s bare thighs beneath his palms to really ramp up his arousal.
“Fuck me,” Loki pleads. “Thor, we really haven’t much time”.
They’re running short on time, it’s true, but Thor can at least take a moment to appreciate what he has right in front of him.
“Do not fret. I’m getting to it.”
He draws his fingertips slowly up the sides of Loki’s legs, lifting Loki’s hem as he goes and not stopping until it sits rucked around his hips. Still holding Loki’s tunic in place, bunched in his hands, Thor makes no further move to touch him below the waist; instead he presses a kiss to Loki’s neck just above his collar, nudging at him with his nose until Loki’s head tips back for easier access. Thor knows the exact moment Loki realises what he’s about to do, his breath coming even faster than before.
“Yes,” Loki murmurs, “fuck, yes.”
Thor sets his teeth to Loki’s neck, biting down. Loki tenses and Thor bites harder, hearing a sharp intake of breath; Thor merely holds for several long seconds until Loki goes soft and submissive against him, his hips restless against Thor’s thigh as he seeks more stimulation. Thor gropes for Loki’s cock, giving it a singular, firm pull, and Loki’s knees actually buckle slightly before he rights himself.
“I do love how much you enjoy that,” Thor smiles against Loki’s heated skin, sucking lightly over the indents of his teeth before he pulls back.
“Mm,” Loki says, his eyes glazed and unfocused; he looks half-ruined already and Thor isn’t even inside him yet.
Smirking, Loki slides two fingers over his tongue, circling the pads of them over the head of Thor’s cock until it’s left messy with spit. Thor takes the opportunity to slip one hand under Loki’s tunic, trailing his fingers down the cleft of his arse; his cock jumps excitedly when he finds that Loki was indeed telling the truth, his hole slick with oil and giving easily to him when he slides the tip of one finger inside.
Getting a hand beneath each of Loki’s thighs, Thor lifts him easily and positions his cock beneath him. Pushes inside, then, bit by bit. Loki’s thighs tighten and then relax against Thor’s hips as he shifts against the wall, trying to take him in deeper.
“Gods, you’re so fucking tight like this,” Thor grits out, holding still despite being only halfway inside. He daren’t move; Loki might have taken three fingers earlier, but some time has passed since then. “Are you certain you can take this?”
“It’s fine, Thor,” Loki insists, digging his fingers into Thor’s shoulders as he urges him on. The way he’s bitten at his bottom lip suggests this is right on the edge of what he can handle, but he knows his limits and Thor isn’t going to argue. “Come on,” Loki says, “I want it.”
Thor pushes up and in, drawing out the movement with an exquisitely pleasurable slowness. Once almost fully inside he lets Loki slide down fractionally to meet him, both groaning as he bottoms out entirely. Loki’s head thunks back against the wall hard enough that it must surely hurt, but he merely hums a satisfied sound and makes no complaint.
Holding Loki in place, Thor’s next thrust is slow to start and quick to finish. As intended, Loki gasps at the swift, hot jolt of it. The rhythm Thor sets is strong and sure, single-minded in his focus now to ensure they both find release quickly.
“You had best hope we aren’t late to return,” Thor growls, the upward snap of his hips making Loki’s toes curl. With the next one, he whimpers. “You would have me neglect my duties, all so I might service you whenever you see fit.”
The effect of his words is immediate: Loki shudders in his arms, gorgeous and panting with pleasure. The reputation as a silver-tongued wordsmith might be Loki’s, but Thor knows him best. He has a few words of his own he can use to his advantage and knows exactly what Loki wants to hear.
“Servicing me is your duty, first and foremost,” Loki says, clearly amused. “Don’t you dare forget it.”
Bracing himself more firmly with a palm against the wall, Thor drives into him harder. His breath catches at the feel of Loki’s nails across his back, a thrilling tease even through his clothing. The stonework crumbles to sand and dust beneath the heel of his hand where he grinds into it hard enough to bruise.
“My apologies, brother,” Thor grins, altering the angle of their bodies slightly. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Loki opens his mouth as if to respond, but the rolling motion of Thor’s hips stuns him speechless. He feels so good Thor can hardly stand it; no wonder that, when Loki makes demands of him, he cannot bring himself to say no.
“Oh gods, right there,” Loki chokes out at last. “Thor, keep -- doing -- that -- ”
Thor brings their mouths together hurriedly to quieten Loki’s vocal encouragement, their movements uncoordinated and sloppy in a way that only makes it better.
“Hush,” Thor hisses, “do you want everyone to hear?”
Loki brings one hand to his mouth, biting down on the edge of his thumb and breathing harshly through his nose, but forgets himself soon after.
“Oh, fuck, fuck me, I’m so close,” he groans, clearly holding back but not quiet enough for Thor’s liking.
“It seems you need some assistance keeping quiet,” Thor says tightly, raising his eyebrows and glancing meaningfully at Loki’s mouth. Loki nods keenly in understanding, his eyes huge and dark with want.
Thor fits his hand firmly over Loki’s mouth as he drives into him, pinioning him to the wall with his bodyweight, Loki’s cock dragging between them. He’d quite forgotten just how much Loki likes being pinned like this; Loki gives a muffled moan, shivery and pliant under Thor’s touch, and two thrusts later comes all over the both of them, chest heaving. Thor works him through it without slowing down, removing his hand from Loki’s mouth only when he is sure he has nothing more to spill.
“All right?” Thor asks, smiling at him in wonder and hoisting him further up the wall as Loki blinks dazedly down at him.
“Yes,” Loki says softly under his breath. Looping both arms around Thor’s neck, he continues chanting the word as Thor drills into him.
His legs are shaking from the overstimulation by the time Thor bites at his shoulder and comes hard inside him a minute later.
After, Thor’s entire body thrumming with pleasure and his cock still pressed deep, Thor cannot help but grin at nothing in particular. Loki, who is quite used to him, merely rolls his eyes.
“Put me down, you sap,” Loki tells him, still a touch breathless. “But -- kiss me first.”
Thor does so with enthusiasm, the taste of Loki’s mouth as addictive as ever. Loki gives a hitching little sigh, his fingers carefully smoothing Thor’s hair back into place to smarten him up.
Pulling out and gently lowering Loki down, Thor holds him close as he finds his feet, mildly concerned that he might fall over should Thor leave him to his own devices. It wouldn’t be the first time, though Loki has always denied all knowledge of previous incidents in which Thor fucked him so spectacularly he couldn’t stand straight afterward.
They take a minute or two to catch their breath, slowly unwinding from their shared pleasure. Thor determinedly doesn’t look down, for the sight of Loki lounging indolently against the wall in a half-clothed state with Thor’s come dripping down his bare legs will surely be too much for him to bear; they’ll end up back where they started and won’t leave this room before nightfall.
Thankfully, Loki appears to follow a similar train of thought, heaving a sigh and then cleaning their bodies and clothing with a lazy twist of his wrist and a flash of green between them.
“Don’t make me go back in there,” Thor groans, pressing his forehead to Loki’s shoulder for a moment before Loki pulls away. “I hate it. I hate it, Loki. I know little on the land laws affecting Asgard’s vineyards and even less on the Vanaheim trade agreements, and they know it full well. I am sure they laugh at me no sooner than my back is turned.”
Mid-way through piecing himself back together, Loki falters, but finishes smoothing his hands over the creases in his magically-retrieved breeches before looking up at him with a frown.
“Do you truly think those fools know what they’re talking about when it comes to these things?” he says. “They have no idea. They read their documents, they speak on occasion to make it appear as if they are contributing -- probably something painfully obvious and unlikely to cause controversy -- and then they sit quietly to stew in their own confusion.”
He conjures a small mirror and makes an attempt at neatening his hair with his fingers; scowls and applies a glamour instead when he finds that Thor’s hands and the wall’s surface have left it untameable.
“That cannot possibly be true,” says Thor, though he appreciates Loki’s attempts to make him feel better. “And Father, at least -- ”
“Father knows only marginally more than they do, and that’s being generous,” Loki cuts him off with a careless wave of his hand. “Why do you think it takes a full room of people to progress these things? It’s about common sense and combined knowledge, not understanding the intricacies of things you couldn’t possibly be an expert in. Now do stop acting as though you are too stupid to influence those condescending bores, it’s quite unbecoming. The next time we have opportunity to offer our opinions, I want you to make a sensible contribution. I dare you.”
Thor shakes his head, laughing softly. Closing the distance between them, he nudges Loki’s chin upward with his fingertips to capture his mouth in a kiss.
“You dare me, do you?” Thor says, pondering. Loki is too much of a temptation to ignore, his bottom lip flushed pink where Thor sucked at it earlier, and Thor kisses him again. “And what if I do not?”
Loki’s eyes glitter with amusement, though his gaze then softens and he looks thoughtful for a moment as he brings his hands up to straighten Thor’s collar.
“I don’t bed fools, Thor. Nor do I bed cowards. I want to see you commanding the council with confidence, as well you should.”
Stroking a gentle thumb along Loki’s cheekbone, Thor allows himself a scant few seconds to gaze upon his brother in a hopelessly smitten fashion: he is mindful that in a moment, when they return to their meeting room, he cannot.
“And that would please you, brother?”
Loki’s smile edges into something teasing and flirtatious. “You will be king someday, will you not?” he says silkily, pressing closer to speak softly against Thor’s ear. “Prove to me why I should find myself willing and devoted on my knees before you, Your Majesty.”
With a barely-there smirk he places a chaste kiss to the corner of Thor’s mouth and whirls on his heel, striding away without a backward glance.
Motivation indeed, Thor thinks; he waits for a moment, his head held high, and follows him out.