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By midnight, the festivities were at their peak. The music was loud and energetic, with many drunken imbeciles dancing and laughing as they stumbled together.
Thor was one of them, the traitor, and had cheerfully offered Loki sips of his mead several times throughout the night, despite the fact that Loki rebuked him every time. But truth be told, Loki was briefly tempted to have a taste, even though he knew the flavor and effects of the drink were nothing to his liking. What tempted him instead was the idea of placing his lips where Thor's had been, and swallowing liquid that had brushed against his brother's mouth. But Loki had given into this idea before, and the thrill had been short lived even then. It only made him long to feel warm lips instead of cool metal. To taste Thor's spit on its own instead of diluted and obscured into wine or ale.
At the moment, Thor was dancing with a tall maiden with hair the color of wheat and a finely shaped body that, similarly, seemed ready for Thor to plough. She was the third that his brother had danced with so far. Each had been incredibly beautiful, and Loki couldn't bear to watch it anymore - couldn't bear to see the rotating selection of young maidens that Thor could choose from and wonder where the spinning wheel would stop. Loki didn't want to know which one Thor would disappear with for the rest of the night. He didn't want to recognize the same girl again later and stare at her wide hips and know, with white-hot jealousy, that his brother had chosen to spend the night between them. Instead, Loki fled outside into the gardens, where the warm night air and star-specked night was almost soothing.
Not for the first time, Loki wished that he had already mastered his magical studies. He had found texts that spoke about the art of shapeshifting, but despite reading them all very thoroughly, Loki had yet to make the technique work. What he wouldn't give to simply disguise himself as some lovely maiden with bewitching eyes and soft breasts. He could throw illusions and glamours, to an extent, but they were insubstantial and the spells often came undone at the merest touch. That simply wouldn't do for what he wanted.
Loki wanted Thor to fuck him, and he wanted it desperately. He wanted to feel that heavy weight on him, pinning him down, dominating and owning him completely. He wanted to feel Thor lingering on his skin for days. He wanted to be covered with the scent of him. He wanted to know Thor's cock better than he knew his own.
Glances in the bath were simply not enough - and the last time he'd glimpsed his brother nude was far too long ago. That was another thing Loki only wished he could do - turn himself completely invisible. If he could, then at least he could see Thor's cock, and really get a good look. Surely that would satisfy him... For a while. Loki was sure that Thor's cock had to be bigger now. Thicker. Just thinking about it made his mouth water. The taste was always something that he wondered about while he lay in bed at night, licking spend off of his fingers and imagining it wasn't his own. He wanted to swallow Thor's come, to see his brother overwhelmed with pleasure and know he was the cause of it. He wanted to know what it would be like to have Thor's seed spilling deep inside... and what it would feel like cooling on his skin. To be marked by Thor in such an intimate and unmistakable way. Some days it was just too painful to admit to himself that this would never happen.
The night air, filled with fragrant wafts of flowering night blooms, was refreshing to Loki's senses, but left him with a sort of melancholy. He remembered an eternal summer when he and his brother would play hide and seek in the garden over and over again, always hiding behind some tree or under the thick hedge bushes. When Thor found Loki, he would tackle him and wrestle and tickle him until Loki, screeching with laughter, had to beg him for mercy.
Nothing had changed in a thousand years except for the fact that they didn't play anymore. Thor still wanted to tackle and wrestle, this time in the training pits, but now they were grown and Loki had become fully aware of his feelings towards Thor since puberty. There was no way Loki could explain to Thor why there was an erection pressing into his stomach. It seemed as if the fates had decided to mock him, allowing him to be closer to Thor than anyone, yet unable to ever actually have him.
Loki's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden rise of laughter into the night, as two of the revelers he'd left behind managed to follow him into the gardens - a male and a woman, probably lovers looking for a secluded spot.
Norns, but could he ever just--
His thought was interrupted by the indistinct sound of a woman's voice.
No, not just any revelers... he would know that voice anywhere because the sound of it made him flinch. It was Amora.
Loki immediately dropped out of sight, almost falling to the ground in his haste to avoid her seeing him.
Amora was older than him, even older than Thor, and was one of the most skilled magic users in Asgard. She had become one of his tutors to further advance his magical studies. Despite Loki's lack of experience, Amora apparently saw a talent in him that she admired. But her... admiration was too much for Loki's comfort. About a year ago, in the middle of one of their lessons, she had kissed him. Not just a modest peck, but a thorough, passionate exploration that had honestly left him tingling and conflicted.
The kiss in itself... was pretty nice, if Loki let himself admit it. Part of the problem was that he was conflicted about whether he wished it had been Thor to be his first kiss and only ever Thor, or whether he wanted to keep practicing in order to get good at it so that if he ever did get to kiss Thor he wouldn't be a terrible disappointment. But the real problem was that Amora was infatuated with him, and he didn't feel the same. Even after he'd finally explained his preference of the male variety, she wasn't deterred. Instead, Amora had actually offered to take on a male form for him. If anyone but Thor held his interest, Loki would have been tempted to take her up on the offer, but he wasn't desperate enough for that. Not yet.
Why Amora was in the garden, Loki had a strong suspicion, but the person she was with was a mystery to him. He hadn't been able to get a good look before he hid behind the hedge, but there was definitely a man...
"I could have sworn I saw him come outside..." a man's voice said, and Loki froze.
Amora had asked Thor to help her find him?! The person he least wanted to be with, and the person he wanted the most. If they caught up with him, and he had to refuse her advances once again, not only would Thor tease about it forever but there was a chance that she could somehow figure out that Thor was the sole object of his desire. If he even so much as looked at his brother, he was certain that she would know, that the truth would be written all over his face. And if he didn't look at Thor, then... it would be even more obvious!
Their footsteps came closer. Loki cursed his lack of ability once again. The first thing he'd learn to do was invisibility and teleportation, he promised himself. In the meantime he did the only thing he could think of - he rushed further into the garden, looking for any place to hide. There was an ancient hedge, grown tall and thick with green foliage over the years. Loki hastily crawled underneath it, biting his lip to keep quiet when the branches scratched at his face. To his relief, once he was underneath, there was plenty of space for him to draw in his legs and sit. Outside, he could hear the two coming closer, and silently cursed, until to his relief they stopped some distance away.
"Strange," Thor said. "He must have gone back inside."
"Do you think he's avoiding me?" Amora asked.
"Possibly," Thor said, his voice ever cheerful. "But you know how Loki is. He avoids everyone. Including me!"
"He can't hide forever," Amora huffed. Loki heard her feet scruff in the gravel and then stop. "Are you going to stay out here?"
"The air is nice. I'll be back inside in a minute," Thor told her.
"Suit yourself," she said, and walked away to rejoin the party, presumably to seek Loki elsewhere.
Loki let out a soft breath of relief, but at the same time the gravel crunched again. Thor was walking the path... towards him. Loki sat completely still, hoping that Thor would just go away, but his brother kept walking. To his horror, the footsteps slowed as Thor approached his hiding place, until they stopped completely. Had Thor seen him hide here? He liked to think he was good at being sneaky, but the truth was more often than not he got caught. And tonight wasn't exactly a shining example of stealth.
He waited for Thor to call him out, but a couple seconds of silence felt like an eternity. Where was Thor exactly? It seemed as if he should be standing so close to him... but maybe Loki was wrong.
Loki decided to take a risk, shifting slightly so that he could peer through the bush, and what he saw made his heart leap in his chest. Thor was standing so close to him, facing him. What he was doing, Loki couldn't tell. Maybe he was caught. Or maybe Thor was staring at the moon or something stupid like that. But if Loki could see him through the brushes.... it made his pulse hammer nervously. Would Thor be able to see Loki as well if he only looked down?
The heavy silence was at last lightened by the shifting of gravel under Thor's boots... he was never one able to stay completely still, always impatient, always ready to go. Then Loki heard him let out an exaggerated sigh.
That was it, then, Loki thought to himself. Thor knew he was there, hiding like a child. It made his face burn with indignity at being caught, but in this moment, he was capable of laughing it off. Certainly Thor would understand what it felt like to be pursued by unwanted admirers... it might even give them something to bond over. Little did Thor realize that his most unwelcome admirer was Loki himself.
Loki was about to call out, something to effect of 'alright, I give!' and then jokingly asking if the hoards of people asking after him were gone, but he was interrupted by another noise. It was the sound of liquid hitting the ground. For one confused, naïve moment Loki wondered if Thor had carried a drink outside with him and was pouring it out for some reason, but then the stream of liquid was closer, and then, with a jerk of surprise, it was splashing onto him... a hot, splattering rain and Loki suddenly knew exactly what it was.
No, no, it couldn't be... but... it was... Oh gods, it was.
Thor had so much to drink over the course of the night, and now he was relieving himself in the garden... Unknowingly relieving himself right on his own brother.
The bitter, unmistakable scent of urine was almost overpowering. Thor's piss was splattering through the leaves, spraying up in a fine mist that Loki had to turn his face away from, but still he could feel it hitting his skin. The rest poured heavily onto his legs, drenching his clothing within seconds. He wanted to yell, but knew if he made any sound at all it would only be a whimper. He was sopping wet with piss, his brother's piss, and he couldn't get away... If he left, Thor would know what had just happened, and even if he tried to back away so that it would possibly just stop hitting him, the risk was too high that Thor would hear...
But... he didn't want to back away. The realization made heat flame across Loki's face. His damp face. Christ. He was being urinated on by his own brother, and instead of being ashamed... No, instead of just being ashamed, he was also achingly hard.
For years Loki had dreamed of Thor cumming on him. He'd jerked off, spilling onto his own stomach and pretending that it was Thor's seed landing on his skin. He'd fantasized about his perversion being discovered, and for his punishment Thor would make him kneel and accept his cum across his face, like some common whore. They would no longer be brothers, Thor would tell him. From then on Loki would only be something for Thor to use and degrade, because that was surely what Loki wanted and what he deserved.
But as many sick things that Loki had thought of before - of all the things he felt desperate enough to let Thor do to him if he wished - he'd never dreamed of this. He would have thought such a thing disgusting. And it was. It was, but... somehow it was also achingly good. He felt filthy, but that fact that it was Thor spilling on him, hot and wet.... Knowing that Thor's cock was bared... He wished he could see it, and imagined it fat and thick in Thor's hand.
Thor suddenly let out a pleasured groan and Loki's hand flew to his mouth to keep himself from echoing it. His brother was still going, but the stream had become shaky. Loki wasn't surprised that Thor had lasted this long. He'd seen how much his brother could drink. Some people joked that Thor could drink half the ocean if he had a mind for it. But he hadn't nearly had that much to drink tonight, and soon he'd be finished.
To Loki's further shame he realized that he didn't want it to stop. As awful as it seemed, Loki knew that he would never again get as close to Thor as this. He stopped trying to deny to himself that he wasn't horribly aroused by it, and instead he let his legs fall open, suddenly desperate to make the most out of what was left. Thor's dwindling stream splashed directly over his lap, even as far as his belly, and Loki let out a soft breath as his cock was drenched. It was hot, so hot, soaking through his clothes in an instant and then cooling on his skin.
He found himself leaning forward, trying to make it cover more of him, his wet hand absently twisting at his own nipple, only to realize that it was over already. The thin stream was no longer on him, and a second later it stopped completely. To both his delight and shame, he felt a few more droplets flick directly onto his skin, hitting him in the face. Loki suddenly had a vivid mental image of himself kneeling in front of Thor, of his brother finishing up from taking a piss by shaking off the remaining drops directly onto him. Marking him. Degrading, but also claiming. And he suddenly wondered what it would taste like to lick the tip of Thor's cock clean afterward... and then to clean it once again after he'd used his mouth to make Thor spill.
There was complete silence. With his other dry but dirt-covered hand, Loki covered his mouth to keep himself from being heard breathing too heavily. He could hear Thor putting himself away and lacing his breeches again. Loki clenched his eyes shut, imagining being asked to go it for him. To lick Thor's spent cock clean again and then tuck it away like a precious toy. Gods, he was so far gone.
Blessedly, Thor didn't linger outside any longer. Loki could hear his boots against the gravel, walking away, until they faded into the night. He waited for what only must have been half a minute, but felt like an eternity to make sure that he was truly gone, that no one else would happen to come out, and then he let out a held breath and frantically tugged at his own laces.
It was difficult to free himself from his wet clothes, but Loki managed, taking himself in hand and stroking earnestly. Already he was growing cold and uncomfortable, but Thor's scent was on him, on his skin, even slicking his hand. It was overpowering and almost acrid in his nose. Vaguely, it reminded him of the way Thor's sweat smelled, so powerful on his damp, discarded clothes after a training session. He'd jerked himself to that scent for years, whenever he had the opportunity, but now Thor's scent was stronger and it was covering him, marking him...
Loki came with a cry, his hand flying to his mouth too late. He bit into the meat of his thumb, his moans and whines muffled against his own skin while his other hand continued to stroke, drawing out the aftershocks of pleasure. Finally, he slumped bonelessly in his hiding place, branches scratching against him.
For a long moment, his mind was blank bliss.
Then the shame of what he'd just done came back to him, making his skin burn hot despite the cooling fluids on his skin.
Then he realized the ridiculousness of his situation:
He was sitting inside of a hedge bush, in the gardens, just outside of the palace where a grand party was still currently in full swing.
He was covered in not only his own brother's piss, which was starting to reek, but now his own congealing cum.
And he had no idea how he was going to avoid being seen when he went back inside.
Even if he waited all night, there was no way he'd get away with it. The risk was too high, and he didn't relish the idea of hiding in this bush for several hours, growing ever colder, and more uncomfortable.
There was only one way out of this...
///
Half an hour later, Loki tried to creep back inside, choosing a pathway that was as far from the main festivities as possible. Still, it was a long way to his room, so he hurried, as not to be seen if he could help it. With every step, he dripped water onto the floor. He was sure to be reprimanded by one of the servants, or even-
"Loki!" a big, booming voice called cheerfully for him, but surprisingly enough it wasn't Thor's. Instead it was Volstagg.
"Where have you been hiding all this time? Everyone's been looking for you," Volstagg said. "Thor!" he shouted. "I've found your truant little brother!"
Reluctantly, Loki turned around to face Volstagg, who beamed at him with genuine warmth. Within two seconds, Thor was at his side.
"There you are," Thor laughed, but then frowned and raised his eyebrows in concern at Loki. "You're sopping wet," he said, and Loki simultaneously shivered and felt his skin burn hotter than ever. "What happened to you?"
"I was out walking... by the duck pond," Loki said, grateful for the fact that his genuine humiliation made it easier to tell his lie.
"You fell into the duck pond?" Thor asked, his voice a mix of disbelief, concern, and smothered laughter. Volstagg, on the other hand, was not mixed about his reaction – he burst into big peals of belly-shaking laughter.
"I thought it was a nice night for a dip," Loki deadpanned, his lips pressing into a thin smile to seal the jest.
Thor seemed relieved by Loki's response. "Well, I hope it was refreshing for you," he joked in return.
"Yes..." Loki said slowly. "It was." He couldn't contain the mortification from his face any longer, but it didn't matter now. Volstagg was still trying to stop laughing and Thor was watching him with mixed concern and amusement.
Loki could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and took a step back from them. "I need to go clean up."
"Yes, that's a wise idea," Thor agreed. "Go treat yourself to a proper bath, brother. That pond water has a terrible stench."
Loki's heart dropped in mute horror at Thor's words. He turned and fled as quickly as he dared without further embarrassing himself, Volstagg's laughter echoing after him.
It seemed like he spent the rest of the night in the bath, scrubbing fragrant soaps and oils into his skin until he pruned. Finally, he dried himself and locked himself in his room, collapsing onto his soft bed with relief.
But as he lie there, breathing slowly, it seemed like under the lavender and honey, all Loki could smell was Thor. Panicked, Loki turned over and brought his hands to his face to inhale, then tried to smell the ends of his hair, and even his knees. Like a mirage, Loki could swear it was there, not quite tangible but still real enough. It wasn't overpowering anymore, not a stench, but it still lingered, faintly.
Loki groaned and fell back onto his pillow, not sure of what to do. Thor's scent had been imprinted on him, soaked into his skin. Marking him.
Another groan escaped Loki's throat, softer this time, as he reached for the oil he kept on his nightstand.
Thor's scent was on his skin.
Hands slick, Loki started to touch himself, feverishly.
He might as well enjoy it while he could.