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It is Tony who is the first to come to him. “Thor,” he says, after a long day spent chasing large Midgardian beasts around New York City. “We need to talk.”
Thor looks back at him blankly. “Are we not doing so presently?”
Tony face cycles through an odd selection of feelings before settling back on smiling. “Right,” he says. “Yeah, we are. See, this is getting out of hand.”
Thor blinks. “What is?” he says, slowly. “I did not know that you had anything within your hands,” he adds, to be safe.
Tony’s smile is somewhat less forced this time. “We’re relatively certain that this latest slew of attacks is your brother,” he says. “And while usually we’re more than happy to go and beat his ass into the ground—”
Thor growls under his breath, reflexively.
“And not kill him,” Tony very quickly adds. “I can’t help but notice a pattern in behavior.”
Thor blinks.
“Or rather,” Tony is saying, stalking around the room a little bit more. Thor does not remember telling him he could enter it in the first place, but goes to sit back on his bed obligingly. “Bruce has noticed, because Bruce is a scientist. Not to say that I haven’t noticed, but Loki has a very unfortunate habit of stunning me within the first few second of battle.” Tony does not sound very pleased about that.
Thor snorts. “My brother does not take lightly to the kind of taunts you throw his way,” he says. “I—that is probably my fault.”
Tony looks uncomfortable. “Anyway,” he says. He doesn’t appear to know what to do with his hands, and settles for putting them awkwardly on his hips. “We’ve all noticed the sudden increase in attacks, and we’ve decided that it’s time to try a different approach.”
He stops speaking and stare at Thor.
Thor stares back at him blankly. “What would you have me do?” he asks.
Tony shoots the door an ugly look; Thor wonders why. “What is necessary,” he says. “Whatever you did last time he was . . . difficult.”
Thor continues to stare at his friend without understanding. “I do not understand,” he says.
Tony mutters something under his breath darkly. “Look, we’ve all sort of been ignoring the great big fat incestuous elephant in the room—”
There is a noise that sounds suspiciously like Clint snickering and then Natasha slapping him from the hallway, and Tony shoots the door another look.
“—but we all know exactly what we walked in on—”
“He’s still not an incubus, Stark!” Clint shouts from outside the hallway, but his words are muffled. Thor sighs, and gets up to open the door. The rest of the Avengers blink back at him. Steve, at least, has the decency to look chagrined.
“Whatever!” Tony says, quickly. “Point is, there is a pattern, which begins first with a series of increasingly frustrated attacks on New York and ends in a trail of bodies throughout the city!”
Thor sighs. “What is it you would like me to do?” he says.
Tony opens and closes his mouth a few times, before sighing. “Look, I’m gonna be blunt here, big guy, but what we really need is for you to go visit your brother.”
Thor swallows. “Visit,” he repeats.
“Visit,” Tony replies. He gives Thor a good long look. “Right, good, he gets it, everybody out I am going to need so much therapy to recover from this!” He ushers the rest of the Avengers out of the room quickly and shuts the door with surprising care on his way out.
Thor is left standing awkwardly in his room, half in his armor and half out of it, and he sighs.
“Would you like me to locate Mr. Laufeyson?” says JARVIS.
Thor, for once, does not jump at the voices sudden appearance. He sighs again. “Yes, please,” he says.
Which is, of course, when the sky decides that it’s going to rain literal cats and dogs.
Loki is staying in a hotel in a country with a name that Thor can’t even begin to pronounce. Thor finds him sunbathing on the balcony reading a book. To his credit, his brother doesn’t so much as look up from the book when he says, “Hello, Thor. Lovely weather we’ve been having, isn’t it?”
Thor makes a few aborted attempts at cursing under his breath before striding forward and hauling his brother up his upper arms. He stares at the reflection of his own angry eyes in the shiny surface of Loki’s sunglasses and glares at him.
He pulls the glasses off and tosses them over the side of the building. Loki watches them go with a sad smile. “Hey,” he says. “Those were expensive.”
“You will have to buy a new pair, then,” Thor says, stiffly, taking a firmer grip on Loki’s shoulders and beginning the tedious process of attempting to manhandle him to his feet.
“Not fair,” says Loki, not helping in the slightest. “I’m not the one who broke them.”
This time Thor really does curse. “I shall buy you a new pair, then,” he says, in the hopes that the gesture will get his brother moving. He has no such luck.
“Ooh,” Loki says, not budging an inch. If anything, he appears to grow heavier. Thor gives up on getting Loki to stand by himself and hoists him up so that he’s supporting most of Loki’s weight. “How nice of you.”
Thor gets the screen door open and tugs Loki into the hotel room. “I will show you nice,” he says, darkly, and flings Loki down on the bed.
Loki bounces once, before he gets his bearings and ends up in an obscene sprawl across the mattress. “How barbaric,” he purrs, tracing a hand down the skin of his abdomen, leaving gooseflesh in his wake.
Thor growls under his breath and slams the screen door behind him.
“I hate you,” Loki says afterwards, breathlessly, when he’s finished screaming. His voice sounds like it’s been through a cheese grater.
“No you don’t,” says Thor, equally hoarse and panting. He leans his head against the slope of Loki’s collar bones to breathe.
“Mm,” Loki says, agreeing. He shifts his hips a bit gingerly. “I shall be feeling that for days.”
Thor flicks his eyes down to where they’re still joined. “Probably,” he says, more than a little smug.
“You could sound more apologetic,” Loki points out. He releases his grip on Thor’s arms and lets his hand fall to hit the bed. “Where are we, anyway?”
Thor yawns briefly against Loki’s neck. “I am not sure?” he says. “Stark simply handed me the ticket.”
Loki brings one hand up to cradle the back of his head. “Mmm,” he says. “Well, I’m afraid that you left me with little time think of anything beyond finding us a bed, brother mine.” Loki’s fingers find a spot at the base of Thor’s skull that makes his eyes flutter shut.
“Mm,” he says, shifting his hips a little. Loki winces, hissing, and Thor’s hips stutter to a brief stop. “And what a lovely bed this was,” he purrs, hips gaining momentum.
Loki’s eyes, which previously had been falling shut, snap open. “Thor,” he snaps, but his voice is still too cracked to have any bite. “Stop it.”
“Do you think you can walk?” Thor says, musing. He keeps his hips moving even as Loki starts fighting him in earnest, until the snarling noises his brother starts making become high pitched whines, and Loki’s head slams back against the pillows.
“Hate,” Loki bites out. “So—much.”
Thor rolls his eyes. “So you’ve said,” he says dryly. Loki’s fingers scrabble mindlessly at the sheets, legs shifting restlessly until they’re curled around Thor’s hips, and Loki’s mouth opens in a silent groan when Thor’s fingers find his nipples, pinching. “But then,” Thor continues, one hand creeping down Loki’s abdomen to find his cock. “You are not known for you truthfulness.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a sharp flick of his wrist and Loki’s eyes snap open and the noise he makes is obscene.
“Hate you,” he repeats, but he wraps his arms around Thor’s shoulders and arches up to capture Thor’s lips in a rough kiss.
Thor’s toes curl and his hips thrust forward brutally; Loki whines, high pitched and half smothered by Thor’s lips, and wrenches his head away to breathe. Thor lets him go with a swollen smirk. “I would hear you, brother,” he says, voice a mere rasp. His left hand tightens briefly around the base of Loki’s cock and gives a good, long stroke.
“Nnngh,” Loki bites out, head tossing against the pillows, stubborn to the end, mouth falling open and eyes falling shut in an expression of silent bliss as he comes undone, gasping, for the second time that night.
“How about now?” Thor says, in the aftermath. “Can you walk now?”
Loki doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, but he drags one arm up in the air to slap halfhearted at Thor. “Shut up,” he says. Thor takes his cues and pulls out, hissing slightly, before rolling down on his back next to Loki. The sheets are, thankfully, instantly clean.
“You’re beginning to sound like the mortals,” Thor says. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”
Loki’s opens his eyes and looks at Thor blearily. "You seem awfully concerned," he says, finally, shoulders rolling gracefully; Thor's eyes are drawn to the collar of bruises tip-toeing their way down the column of his neck. "Don't tell me this is your idea of pillow talk?"
"No," Thor says slowly, careful.
Loki's eyes narrow. "It was Stark, wasn't it?" he asks, but it's not a question.
"Um," Thor says.
Loki's teeth clack. “I am going to kill him,” he growls. He makes to sit up, but stops, face caught in a sharp grimace. “In a moment.” He sinks gingerly back down onto the bed with a put upon sigh. “In a—” He ships his hips, makes a pained, drawn out noise, and goes still.
Thor wants very much to reach out and touch him, but resists. He settles for pushing a hand underneath Loki’s skull and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. His brother groans, brow furrowing, but curls into Thor.
“Don’t—” Thor starts to say, concern coloring his tone, and rests a hand on Loki’s hip. Loki smacks him again.
“Say. Nothing,” he says through gritted teeth.
Thor’s lips twist, but he honors that request for the rest of the night.
Loki is not there in the morning. Thor wakes up to the sunlight streaming in on him from the now open curtains and an empty bed. The blankets are in a tangled heap somewhere under the bed and his armor is in half dissolved/half discarded across the room.
The bare bones are still in well enough shape that he is able to dress, if somewhat more scantily than he would have prefered, and make his way, grinning, into the hallway—
Only to end up back in the room. He blinks. Tries again.
On the third try, he finds a post it note tucked haphazardly under the bedside lamp.
Sweet dreams, brother, it says. After which, Loki has decided to draw a winking face on it in bottle green ink.
The paper crumples in Thor’s fingers in one quick second.
“Brother,” he growls. And as he reaches for Mjolnir and the power of the storm, he almost hears the sound of laughter.
“Thor!” says Tony, when Thor lands on top of the Avengers Tower. It’d taken him little time to break through Loki’s spells once he’d realized them for what they were, which was just worrying enough to allow him to make it home all the quicker. “We’re going to have to have some words about the definition of ‘walking’!”
Thor has to give it to him; the man sounds surprisingly pleased be it that he is currently on tiptoe on the side of a building.
Loki makes a broken snarling noise and tightens his grip on the man’s windpipe. “Silence!” he snarls.
Tony’s words cut off into gasping breaths, but he still smiles when Thor steps closer.
“Brother?” Thor says. “What are you doing?”
Loki’s eyes narrow. “Killing him,” he says, extending his arm and letting Tony dangle off the side of the tower. “Was that not clear?”
Thor blinks. “For what reason?” he asks, stepping even closer.
Loki’s lips twist. “Do I need one?” he says, quietly, but his fingers loosen slightly.
“Pretty sure you’re the queen of terrible reasons—” the man manages, before Loki cuts off his air supply again. Thor barely blinks.
“I am not something for you to conquer, brother,” Loki spits. “I am not something you laugh about with your mortal friends. I am not something to be wagered on.”
“I would have come if you asked,” Thor says, ignoring the automatic way his hackles rise. Loki’s tongue is dripping with venom; Thor’s eyes dart to the faint tracings of scar tissue that mars the bridge of his brother’s nose. “Would it that you asked,” he adds, quieter.
Loki’s lips pull thin. “Such pretty words, thunderer,” he says, but Thor can see the almost smile in his face.
“The loveliest,” Thor says, stepping even closer. He ignores the way Tony’s eyes grow in size, and reach out to cup the back of Loki’s neck. “Fit for a king.”
Loki scoffs. “Hardly a king,” he says, refusing to meet Thor’s eyes. He gives Tony a long, considering look. “What do these do?” he says, tapping a bracelet.
Tony’s hands lift and he opens and closes his mouth a few times.
“Thor?”
“It is my understanding that they allow him to call his armor from great distances,” he says.
“Hmm,” says Loki, walking a few steps closer to the edge of the tower. “I shall see you around, brother.”
And then, in a flash of green light, he vanishes.
Tony hurdles at the ground for a few moments, before the Iron Man suit comes rushing out to meet him with the sound of breaking glass.
“Dammit, Thor!” Tony cries, flying up to hover in front of him. “I just got those fixed! Also, what have I said about oversharing with the bad guys!?”
Thor cannot even try to pretend that he is sorry.