FIC: Armistice || Thor/Loki || R/NC-17
Title: Armistice
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Word Count: 1,050
Warnings: suicidal thoughts (mentioned)
Summary: Thor and Loki have been psychically bonded due to unknown circumstances; to say that Loki hates the bond would be an understatement.
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XII.
*
Loki hadn't yet figured out how it had happened. It had been an accident, a mistake; that much he knew. Made by whom, under what circumstances -- those were questions more difficult to find an answer to. It galled Loki to admit even to himself, but his memories of the incident and the days surrounding it were hazy at best, and his magic had thus far been of no help in trying to regain access to those lost moments.
It was possible that some part of him did not wish to remember; even in the now-dubious privacy of his mind, he found himself using terms such as 'the incident', or 'that day', shying away from the realities of what had happened. Such a stupid, childish reaction, Loki thought, vicious. There was no shielding away from the truth. It was in his bones, humming along in his blood and simmering beneath his skin, mingling with his magic -- it was inescapable, and to be unaware of it was an impossibility Loki longed for with every lungful of air he took.
It would have been an understatement to say that Loki hated the bond that now existed between him and Thor.
There were so many things about it that Loki despised, he could scarcely list them all. It was the way it made him feel like there was a collar around his neck, like Thor had him on a leash; it was the way he'd been forced to put his plans, his life, on hold, in order to follow Thor around; it was not being able to do magic without Thor knowing about it, and worse, knowing what Loki intended to use it for.
It was being able to lift Mjölnir, which under normal circumstances would have filled him with unholy glee, but which was now simply another sign that the universe was mocking him. For once in his life, the hammer, an extension of Thor, obeyed him, and there was nothing Loki could do with it. Using it to kill one of Thor's little friends would be petty and end badly -- the Avengers might not be able to kill him without killing Thor, but they were resourceful enough for such a ragtag group, and Loki was not about to put himself in the line of fire when an escape was not an option. In any case, such an attempt would be unlikely to succeed for various reasons, not the least of which was the sharp look Thor sent his way when he so much as touched upon the idea.
And of course any attempt on Thor's life would have been suicidal. Loki was not, as a general rule, fond of dying, and what self-destructive impulses he might have been harboring were impossible to entertain while Thor had access to his head. Not that Loki would do anything about those impulses, regardless -- that one attempt at suicide, if you could call it that, was quite enough to last him for a lifetime; he'd never been very prone to nightmares, but the void he'd fallen into after his failed attempt at erasing his own darkness still haunted his dreams. And Æsir boil his blood if that wasn't another strike against the bond, right there. That Thor now knew, that he had seen -- Loki could barely think of it without bile rising in his throat.
The fact that he hadn't had a single bad dream after that first night, when Thor had woken him up and murmured nauseating promises into his hair, was, if possible, worse. Loki spent a not inconsiderable amount of energy on blocking the memory of it from his mind.
Truly, the only thing to come out of their bond that even bordered on tolerable was the sex.
"Am I boring you, brother?"
Thor gripped Loki's hair and tugged sharply, pulling his head back and exposing his throat, and Loki let out a startled hiss.
"No," he gasped, digging his nails against Thor's back. Thor growled and snapped his hips forward with enough force to wring out a strangled cry from Loki.
"Are you sure?" Thor scraped his teeth over the skin above Loki's collarbone before biting down hard enough to make a mark that would last -- not long, but longer than any other scrape or bruise he'd left on Loki's body.
"Don't ask questions you know the answer to," Loki said, leaving bloody scratches on Thor's shoulders with one hand and fisting the other in Thor's hair, yanking his head up; the kiss that followed was all teeth.
"Harder," Loki said when their mouths parted, his lips brushing against the bristles of Thor's beard -- but when Thor pulled back to look at Loki, his eyes were shadowed. A trace of something not unlike panic made Loki's blood rush into his ears, and his fingers dug bruises against Thor's arms.
"Harder," he snarled, hating the desperation in his own voice.
Instead of obeying, Thor leaned against the bed with his elbows on either side of Loki's head, caging him in, and slowed down. The drag of his length within Loki's body became a torturous thing, too gentle by half.
Thor kissed him again, a soft brush of lips that made Loki snap his teeth at him. Thor kissed the corner of his mouth, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids.
"Do not treat me as though I am an animal in need of calming," Loki said, his throat closing up. "It won't end well for you."
"That's not how I think of you," Thor said, his breath teasing Loki's lips. "You are welcome to follow the link that connects us and see for yourself."
But Loki could not do that; should he embrace the bond instead of merely accepting the scraps that bled through, he knew that the inevitable separation would leave him shattered in ways he couldn't bear to contemplate.
"Loki," Thor said like someone had broken his heart; and he still wouldn't pick up his pace, his weight solid and warm in the cradle of Loki's legs, rocking into him with terrible care.
"Be quiet," Loki said. "Be quiet. I hate you."
Thor, indulging him, said,
"I know."
-- and for one blinding moment, Loki thought he knew what hating Thor truly felt like.
No lie Loki had ever told had tasted as bitter as those two words on Thor's lips.
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Word Count: 1,050
Warnings: suicidal thoughts (mentioned)
Summary: Thor and Loki have been psychically bonded due to unknown circumstances; to say that Loki hates the bond would be an understatement.
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XII.
*
Loki hadn't yet figured out how it had happened. It had been an accident, a mistake; that much he knew. Made by whom, under what circumstances -- those were questions more difficult to find an answer to. It galled Loki to admit even to himself, but his memories of the incident and the days surrounding it were hazy at best, and his magic had thus far been of no help in trying to regain access to those lost moments.
It was possible that some part of him did not wish to remember; even in the now-dubious privacy of his mind, he found himself using terms such as 'the incident', or 'that day', shying away from the realities of what had happened. Such a stupid, childish reaction, Loki thought, vicious. There was no shielding away from the truth. It was in his bones, humming along in his blood and simmering beneath his skin, mingling with his magic -- it was inescapable, and to be unaware of it was an impossibility Loki longed for with every lungful of air he took.
It would have been an understatement to say that Loki hated the bond that now existed between him and Thor.
There were so many things about it that Loki despised, he could scarcely list them all. It was the way it made him feel like there was a collar around his neck, like Thor had him on a leash; it was the way he'd been forced to put his plans, his life, on hold, in order to follow Thor around; it was not being able to do magic without Thor knowing about it, and worse, knowing what Loki intended to use it for.
It was being able to lift Mjölnir, which under normal circumstances would have filled him with unholy glee, but which was now simply another sign that the universe was mocking him. For once in his life, the hammer, an extension of Thor, obeyed him, and there was nothing Loki could do with it. Using it to kill one of Thor's little friends would be petty and end badly -- the Avengers might not be able to kill him without killing Thor, but they were resourceful enough for such a ragtag group, and Loki was not about to put himself in the line of fire when an escape was not an option. In any case, such an attempt would be unlikely to succeed for various reasons, not the least of which was the sharp look Thor sent his way when he so much as touched upon the idea.
And of course any attempt on Thor's life would have been suicidal. Loki was not, as a general rule, fond of dying, and what self-destructive impulses he might have been harboring were impossible to entertain while Thor had access to his head. Not that Loki would do anything about those impulses, regardless -- that one attempt at suicide, if you could call it that, was quite enough to last him for a lifetime; he'd never been very prone to nightmares, but the void he'd fallen into after his failed attempt at erasing his own darkness still haunted his dreams. And Æsir boil his blood if that wasn't another strike against the bond, right there. That Thor now knew, that he had seen -- Loki could barely think of it without bile rising in his throat.
The fact that he hadn't had a single bad dream after that first night, when Thor had woken him up and murmured nauseating promises into his hair, was, if possible, worse. Loki spent a not inconsiderable amount of energy on blocking the memory of it from his mind.
Truly, the only thing to come out of their bond that even bordered on tolerable was the sex.
"Am I boring you, brother?"
Thor gripped Loki's hair and tugged sharply, pulling his head back and exposing his throat, and Loki let out a startled hiss.
"No," he gasped, digging his nails against Thor's back. Thor growled and snapped his hips forward with enough force to wring out a strangled cry from Loki.
"Are you sure?" Thor scraped his teeth over the skin above Loki's collarbone before biting down hard enough to make a mark that would last -- not long, but longer than any other scrape or bruise he'd left on Loki's body.
"Don't ask questions you know the answer to," Loki said, leaving bloody scratches on Thor's shoulders with one hand and fisting the other in Thor's hair, yanking his head up; the kiss that followed was all teeth.
"Harder," Loki said when their mouths parted, his lips brushing against the bristles of Thor's beard -- but when Thor pulled back to look at Loki, his eyes were shadowed. A trace of something not unlike panic made Loki's blood rush into his ears, and his fingers dug bruises against Thor's arms.
"Harder," he snarled, hating the desperation in his own voice.
Instead of obeying, Thor leaned against the bed with his elbows on either side of Loki's head, caging him in, and slowed down. The drag of his length within Loki's body became a torturous thing, too gentle by half.
Thor kissed him again, a soft brush of lips that made Loki snap his teeth at him. Thor kissed the corner of his mouth, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids.
"Do not treat me as though I am an animal in need of calming," Loki said, his throat closing up. "It won't end well for you."
"That's not how I think of you," Thor said, his breath teasing Loki's lips. "You are welcome to follow the link that connects us and see for yourself."
But Loki could not do that; should he embrace the bond instead of merely accepting the scraps that bled through, he knew that the inevitable separation would leave him shattered in ways he couldn't bear to contemplate.
"Loki," Thor said like someone had broken his heart; and he still wouldn't pick up his pace, his weight solid and warm in the cradle of Loki's legs, rocking into him with terrible care.
"Be quiet," Loki said. "Be quiet. I hate you."
Thor, indulging him, said,
"I know."
-- and for one blinding moment, Loki thought he knew what hating Thor truly felt like.
No lie Loki had ever told had tasted as bitter as those two words on Thor's lips.