Nobody in Asgard loved mushrooms more than Loki Laufeyson.

It made sense, of course; he was a jötunn—the last jötunn, in fact—and his diet was vastly different from that of the Aesir. No one in the Eight Realms was exactly sure what the people of Jötunheim had subsisted on, for they had been a reclusive, mysterious race and their snowy planet was not known for its agriculture.

Judging from Loki’s tastes, however, the green part of the jötunn diet consisted chiefly of fungi, supplemented with a variety of water-weeds, lichens, mosses, and other damp, dank things that grew in the shadows. He ate all types of meat, but his preferred source of protein came from the sea. Fresh eel was his favorite, and he always ate the liver first. Raw, if possible.

He enjoyed the sport of fishing, too, mostly because he could snack on the bait while waiting for the main course to arrive. Worms, slugs, snails, grubs, even frogs and small, slimy newts were eaten with enthusiasm, always fresh, never cooked. Sometimes while still alive. He liked to eat crawly things as well. Beetles, spiders, centipedes, crickets—they were all crunchy, delicious treats to him.

His brother Thor had once dared him to eat an enormous millipede they’d found while on a hiking trip in the mountains. Loki had snatched the creature from its rocky crag and popped it into his mouth without hesitation. Thor then watched in horror as Loki bit into the millipede’s writhing, segmented body, spilling lumpy yellow-green curds down his chin. Even more horrifying was the way the dying creature scrabbled and curled itself against Loki’s lips, its hundreds of tiny legs wriggling forlornly.

Thor had promptly leaned over and retched into the bushes, and he never dared Loki to eat another creepy thing again.

Of course, there were certain things the Aesir could eat that Loki could not, at least not without serious gastronomic repercussions. Milk and bread, for instance, the foundation of the Asgardian diet, wreaked havoc on Loki’s digestive system. A spoonful of honey could put him to sleep for days, whereas a few ripe mountain berries would keep him in a restless, hyperactive mania for hours. Butter and cheese quite literally turned him green, vanilla made him sneeze uncontrollably, hazelnuts gave him hives, and many other foods reacted unfavorably with his exotic anatomy. His adoptive parents were always very cautious when introducing him to new dishes. There was no telling what might affect him.

How a jötunn had come to live in the Golden Realm was a sad story. When Loki was yet a baby, his father Laufey had surrendered him to Odin’s mercy shortly before Jötunheim’s dying core had reached critical mass. Though they had never been friends or even willing allies, Odin had beseeched Laufey to join him in the Bifrost portal, but the world-weary old frost king had solemnly refused. Odin was forced to ascend without him, and the planet exploded in a raging fireball of magma and steaming ice. Laufey perished with a proud handful of wounded who were all that remained of his people, and went on to join his beloved Farbauti in the arms of eternity.

Odin returned to Asgard with one less eye and one extra son, and many years later his palace was being slowly un-built by two rambunctious teenagers. It was little wonder his hair had gone white while he was still in his early thousands. His boys—now young men—were a handful, and as different as night and day:

Thor was fair-skinned, blue-eyed and blond-haired, full of sun and cheer. He wore his locks long, spilling down his shoulders in golden-brown strands and occasional plaits. By contrast, Loki’s skin was a cool, lovely blue, and he was as serene and mysterious as the moon. His eyes were the color of rubies and he kept his soft black hair just at the nape of his neck. Though they almost matched each other in height and strength, Thor was thicker and more heavily muscled. Loki was slim and lithe, more apt to use his wits and magic while Thor used his might. Loki was hot-blooded—quite literally, for the cobalt-colored life that ran in his veins was meant to sustain him in the icy tundras of his now-obliterated homeworld—while Thor was hot-blooded in a more figurative sense, loud and passionate and impetuous. The two clashed and competed and bickered and brawled on an almost daily basis, but make no mistake, any foe that menaced them as a pair would meet a swift end.

This was because, in spite of their differences in heritage and choice of restaurants, Thor and Loki shared an unwavering loyalty and affection for one another. The more they challenged each other, the stronger they became, and the deeper their love grew. No matter how bitter their disagreements were, Thor never uttered a slur against Loki’s race, took advantage of his handicaps—heat sensitivity being the greatest—or treated him as anything less than his equal. He was respectful, honest, and almost always the first to extend his hand in peace, especially if he was in the wrong.

As he was now.

He made his way to the north side of the palace, where Loki’s chambers sat dim and cool, rarely touched by the sun’s rays. He carried a hemp sack in each hand, and each sack was stuffed full of mushrooms. He had been harvesting them out in the forest for most of the morning and early afternoon, pulling them from the trunks of fallen trees and beds of thick green moss. His fingernails were packed with dirt and he smelled of rotted leaves and moist earth—disdainful to most people, but a most enchanting perfume to Loki.

He gave the bedroom doors a light rap with his knuckle. “It’s me,” he said softly. “I’ve come to grovel.”

For several moments there was silence, then Thor heard the soft, silky rustle of fabric from within. The door latches shimmered green as they magically opened, and a drowsy voice bade, “Enter.”

Thor stepped inside and shut the doors behind him. Loki’s bedroom was lofty and open, painted in shades of blue, and furnished with rustic décor and accents of crystal and silver. There were narrow windows high on the wall to allow air and moonlight to filter through, and the huge white hide of a Niflheim beast was spread on the dark marble floor. Thor liked Loki’s room. It was always cool and comfortable here, and it smelled much better than his own chambers.

Loki was nestled in the middle of his expansive, pillow-strewn bower, wrapped in a tangle of luxurious sheets. He pushed himself up as Thor approached, and the covers pooled around his naked waist. He rubbed his bleary eyes.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your nap,” said Thor, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “but I couldn’t wait.”

Loki waved a dismissive hand. “It isn’t that hot today anyway. I am simply being lazy.” He smiled.

Thor smiled back. Everyone on the palace staff was aware that Loki slept in the late afternoon as a way of avoiding the heat of the day, and they went to great lengths to not wake him. A cranky jötunn prince was neither enjoyable nor easy to deal with.

“You were right,” said Thor, slumping a little. “It was wrong of me to assume I knew more of Midgard’s legends than you. A wendigo is not the offspring of a sasquatch and a jackalope. I spoke to the elders of a Midgardian tribe and they confirmed this to me.”

“Did they laugh?”

“Uncontrollably. I shall never again be able to show my face in their wigwam.”

Loki gave him a victorious leer. “And now you’ve come to entreat my forgiveness. How gallant of you! Tell me, brother, what did you bring to cool my anger, hm? Mushrooms, perhaps?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It smells like mushrooms. Freshly plucked, too.”

“Once again, your nose has spoiled the surprise.” Thor loosened the cinch on one of the sacks and pulled it open, revealing a hoard of purplish-colored toadstools.

Delight sparkled in Loki’s eyes as he picked one out and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring each burst of thick, earthy flavor. “Oh my, they’re delicious. Very well, then, I forgive you.”

“It is entirely too easy to please you, Loki. You should have more care.”

Loki smiled demurely and reached out for a second helping. “You are the only person in all the Eight who knows the way to my heart.” He sucked on a cap before biting the whole thing off. “I believe I am safe.”

That pleased Thor almost as much as being forgiven. He grinned widely, clapped his hands on his thighs, and rose to his feet. “Well, enjoy my tithes to your temper, brother. I shall see you this evening.”

“Are you sure you don’t you want to help me eat all these?” Loki asked, knowing how much Thor despised mushrooms. The reaction his offer provoked was entirely worth it, though.

Thor’s face twisted into a hilarious expression of disgust. “No, Loki, they are all yours. Stuff yourself to your heart’s content, just don’t spoil your dinner.”

Loki chuckled and took a huge, crescent-shaped bite out of one of the mushrooms. “You underestimate my appetite, but thank you for being generous.”

Thor turned at the doorway and gave him a roguish wink. “Anything for you, brother.”

Loki was a no-show at dinner that evening.

It wasn’t rare for him to be absent from one of the family meals, but the smell of lox and chilled, briny vegetables—the second course in the typical five-course Asgardian dinner—should have had him pelting to the table like an oversexed hare. Thor guessed that he must have gorged himself on mushrooms and fallen back asleep, but that didn’t deter him from arranging a plate and carrying it to Loki’s room. His brother had a voracious appetite. How he maintained his trim figure was a complete mystery to Thor.

When he knocked on Loki’s door, however, he was met with an unexpected reply:

“Go away!”

“Loki, it’s me,” said Thor. “Is everything alright?”

A few silent moments passed. When Loki finally spoke, it was in a tone that Thor had never heard before.

“Leave me. Get away from here. I’m… I am not myself right now.”

“What’s the matter? Are you ill?”

“I said leave me!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what is going on!” When there was no reply, a wave of impotent anger flared through Thor. “Let me in, Loki, or I swear I will break down these doors. You know I can, your magic cannot stop me.”

“I know,” came the weak voice. “But you don’t understand. It’s not… I’m not…”

“Loki, please.” Frustration gave way to desperation. Loki sounded as if he might be in terrible pain, and that was something Thor had never been able to stand. “Please let me in. You’re worrying me.”

A few seconds later, the door unlatched and fell ajar. Thor pushed it open and stepped inside.

Loki was a formless heap beneath the bed sheets. Not even his head was visible. One of the sacks was half empty; the full one was lying on the floor a few paces away, as if it had been thrown there in a fit of pique. A few stray mushrooms were scattered hither and thither on the bed and the rug.

Thor kicked the door shut with his foot, set the dinner plate down on a nearby table, and hurried over. “Loki. What’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you eat too many mushrooms?”

Loki pulled back the covers and Thor recoiled in shock.

The jötunn was a wreck. His normally well-kept hair was an absolute mess. His pupils were so dilated that almost no color remained in them, and his face was flushed a deep shade of indigo. He was breathing heavily, Thor saw, and—oh. Gods and Norns. His nipples. The once small, flat areolas were now dilated and puffy, each pointed little bud in the center tight and erect. In fact, his chest looked much fuller and fleshier than normal. It stirred something very deep and primal in Thor’s innards. His mouth dropped open and his jaw wagged as he tried to find words.

“Wha. Lo. Loki. What has happened to you?”

Anger flashed across Loki’s features, but it quickly melted into an expression of terrible anguish. His red eyes shone with tears. “Do you remember when I showed you my sex?”

The question sent Thor’s mind spiraling into a dark, primitive place.

“When we were children,” Loki prompted. His legs were squirming restlessly beneath the sheets. “That day in the brook. We were innocent and curious. Do you remember?”

It came to Thor from a great distance, a time-smudged memory of two young boys and an idle afternoon spent splashing and naked in a shady forest stream, fighting imaginary monsters, catching minnows, eating wild berries, and playing among the rocks.

At some point Thor had gestured to Loki’s genitals and said, “You’re different from me. You haven’t got a pouch. Did you lose it?”

“Father says this is what all jötnar look like,” Loki had answered. “We carry our pouches on the inside. He says it’s because our home was so cold.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. Mine gets really small when I’m cold. I bet it would go up inside me if it could!”

“Really? That’s funny!”

They giggled together for a few moments, then Loki had asked, “Do you have a split underneath, too?”

Thor said he didn’t know what he meant, so Loki had lifted his knee and shown him.

“I don’t have anything like that,” Thor said, cocking his head and squinting. “What’s it for?”

“Mother says it’s for making babies, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

“You can make babies?”

Loki nodded.

“Wow. I never heard of a boy being able to do that.”

“I’m not a boy. I’m a jötunn,” said Loki proudly, “and we can do all kinds of important things.

Thor scowled. “Well, I am a dragon,” he declared, spreading his pretend-wings wide, “and I’m going to roast you and all your important things, jötunn!”

“If you’re a dragon, then I am a sea serpent, so take that, fire-breather!” Loki yelled, and used his magic to direct a torrent of water right into Thor’s face. Thor roared, Loki squealed with laughter, and then they tumbled into the stream for another epic battle.

Now Thor stood at his brother’s bedside, staring down at his handsome, worried face. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I remember.”

Loki lowered his eyes and slowly drew the covers off of his lower half. The loincloth he wore was thin and dark with moisture, the sheets around him soaked with what appeared to be a clear, thin mucus. A glistening film of it coated the soggy fabric.

Thor’s eyes widened. “Oh, Loki, what. What is that? Did you have an accident?”

“I’m not sure.” Loki swiped his dark hair from his eyes. “One moment I was eating mushrooms, and the next I was waking up to… this. It’s not urine and it’s not seed. It’s…” His blush deepened. “It came from my split.”

Thor stared at the sodden covers between Loki’s slender, shapely blue thighs. His face was suddenly burning, his heart knocking against his sternum, and his… oh holy halls of Valhalla, he was growing hard. He wanted to look away—he should look away, Loki was his brother and this was far more intimate a visual than any they had yet shared with one another—but he could not deny that it pleased some dark, filthy part of him to look at those damp sheets and know that it came from Loki’s most intimate place, from the part of him that was meant to take a jötunn cock.

That last thought wrung a low moan from Thor’s throat, and finally he understood what had happened to Loki—to his beautiful, mysterious, amazing brother, whom he fiercely loved and was proud to call his kin—and what it was doing to himself. Then Thor’s higher thought processes shut down and he was utterly overtaken by a raging, ravenous lust.

He dropped onto the bed on all fours and buried his face into the wet linens between Loki’s legs.

Loki shrieked and scrambled backward, mortified by the sight of his brother licking up his discharge. “What are you doing! Stop it!”

Thor released a long, helpless groan, like that of a dying beast.

“Oh, Loki, it tastes like you,” he despaired. “So sweet and earthy. Clean and refreshing. Like a mountain stream that has passed through an enchanted grotto.” He lifted his head, looking utterly desperate and heartbroken. “Show it to me again, Loki. Show me your grotto, I want to see it.”

Loki gasped and clapped his thighs together. He tried to scoot back farther and collided with the headboard. He was trapped. Trapped and—

He shut his eyes and moaned, his stomach muscles clenching involuntarily. Something squelched beneath his loincloth and then a fresh gush of fluid darkened the already soaked fabric.

Thor sat up on his knees and gazed hungrily at the spreading wetness, his mouth slack and his nostrils flared. “You want to show it to me as much as I want to see it. Don’t be shy, brother. Here, I’ll go first.”

He reached down, ripped through the laces of his trousers, and pulled out his cock. He was almost fully hard, the huge red bulb of his glans extending from its dusky-pink foreskin, a thick vein bulging down one side of the shaft. The organ itself sprouted rigidly from a thatch of wiry brown hair, a proud pillar of flesh whose length and girth would impress a giant. Loki fixed his gaze upon it and bit his lip, clenching his fists in the sheets and rolling his hips needfully.

“You’ve seen mine,” said Thor breathily, “now show me yours.”

When Loki made no move to part his legs, Thor reached out and grasped Loki’s knees and opened them himself. His eyelids fluttered as he drew a long, deep breath.

“Oh, Loki, I can smell you. You are exquisite. The most sensual flower in all the Eight.”

“Thor, please—”

“Please what? Be gentle? I will not bruise a single petal of it, Loki, I give you my word. I only ask that you show it to me so I may admire it.”

“Ngh, your words are like fire,” Loki grunted, squeezing the pillows surrounding him. He continued to squirm, the smack of wet flesh beneath his loincloth accompanying his movements.

Thor was panting with desire, his pupils so large that his eyes were nearly black. “I assure you, brother, my tongue is much cooler than my words. I think you will find it very refreshing.”

Loki stared at Thor for a full three seconds before he grasped his loincloth and ripped it from his body. Like all jötnar, he was hairless in his lower regions; his penis lay soft and uninterested against his thigh, but the folds of his vulva were dark and engorged, glossy with moisture.

Thor shivered at the sight and pushed Loki’s legs apart even farther, causing his lips to open with a moist click and reveal the drooling, dark blue mouth of his vagina.

Another tortured groan escaped Thor’s throat. “Oh, by the gods, Loki, I pray when I die I shall go here instead of Valhalla.”

Loki took a breath to sputter a few irreverent words of his own, but before he could, Thor pushed his finger into him and Loki’s head banged into the headboard.

“Oh, Thor… ah!” he squeaked as he felt Thor fish and wiggle around inside him.

“It’s warm,” Thor murmured, delighted. “So small and tight. Am I the first man to touch you here?”

“Y-yes,” Loki whispered while Thor played in the slippery clasp of his flesh. “Aside from my own fingers and a few of my favorite horns, you are the only thing that has been inside me.”

Thor’s cock jumped excitedly. “You like to pleasure yourself with horns? Oh my, you are a wicked thing, aren’t you?” He added two more fingers, and Loki gasped as they began to stretch him. “I would like to see you do that in front of me someday. How big are they, these toys of yours? Bigger than me?”

Loki glanced down at Thor’s member, hanging straight and hard between his thighs, a string of precome dribbling from its slit.

“No. No, you are far larger than any toy of mine. You’re incomparable. And more beautiful. You’re”—he wet his lips with his tongue—“oh, come here.”

He reached out and grabbed Thor by his ears, pulling him forward, into his open mouth. Thor arrived tongue first and the rest of him followed, lips and nose and cheeks smushing flat into Loki’s face. Loki buried his hands in Thor’s hair and held his head, meeting his brother’s warm pink tongue with his own light blue one.

They played together for a while, tasting and exploring, their lips smacking softly against one another as they filled the space between them with warm, humid breaths and stared into each other’s half-lidded eyes.

This was their first kiss. Desperate and thrilling and clumsy, but they were fast learners.

Thor sucked at Loki’s lips, nipping them gently, before he grabbed the back of Loki’s neck, tilted his head, and thrust into his mouth as deeply as he could. Loki chirped his approval and arched his body against Thor’s, reminding him of where his hand was. Thor responded after a few seconds—he was understandably distracted right now—and he began to move his slick fingers again.

“Do you have one?” he said huskily. “A little button down here?”

“Yes,” Loki whispered.

“Show me.”

Loki reached down and placed his fingers beside Thor’s, and for a few moments the novelty of both of them being between Loki’s legs overrode their objective. They grinned at one another, Loki clasping Thor’s hand and acting as his guide. He fingered himself and invited Thor inside to join him. He shuddered and another lubricating cascade poured out of him, wetting them both to the wrist.

“Up here,” Loki murmured, spreading his lips and allowing Thor to touch the erect little nub he had been searching for. “Ah, not so hard. Gentle.”

“Sorry,” Thor whispered, adjusting his force. His thumb glided tenderly back and forth over Loki’s clitoris while his first two fingers remained inside him, curling and uncurling and pushing and prodding.

Loki shivered and began to breathe hard. “Oh, yes. Faster now.”

Thor obeyed and Loki rewarded his efforts by wrapping his hand around Thor’s cock, forming a wet hole that he could thrust into. Thor gratefully pushed forward until Loki’s fist was pressed into his coarse pubic hair, then he pulled back, dragging himself out.

It took a lot of coordination, stimulating Loki while fingering him and fucking into his grasp at the same time, but Thor soon found a rhythm and was now able to focus his attention on his gorgeous, disheveled brother. And he was gorgeous, something that Thor felt he’d always been but failed to see until now. He was consumed by an overwhelming urge to please Loki, to see him in his most happy, satisfied state. It was a mission he gladly undertook.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, Loki,” he promised. “First you’re going to come on my fingers. Then you’re going to come on my mouth. And then you’re going to come on my cock.”

Loki laughed. “And what other parts of yours shall satisfy me for the rest of the night, dear brother?”

Thor’s smile dropped from his lips. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, honestly.”

Loki hummed indulgently and spread his legs wider. Thor resumed pushing himself through Loki’s slippery fist, though he was tempted by the close proximity of Loki’s cunt; how easy it would be to pull out and simply thrust into it, to accomplish the objective set by his instinct. But Thor knew it would be a less satisfying victory than the one he had planned out. He wanted to get to know every inch of this wonderful, mysterious body his brother had. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting the warm little clam he had been playing with for the last few minutes.

An idea suddenly flashed through his mind and he abandoned his current task to paw through the sheets and pillows. Loki whimpered in disappointment but was quieted when he felt something blunt and velvety press into his labia.

“Oh,” he breathed, blinking in amazement.

Thor smirked and twirled the mushroom by its stem, rubbing its firm, silky cap against Loki’s clitoris. Loki moaned breathily and his eyelids fluttered.

“Oh my.”

“Which do you like better?” Thor teased. “The head”—he turned the mushroom around and tickled Loki with its stalk, which had a firm, smooth bulb at the end—“or the tail?”

“Ah!” Loki gasped, clutching Thor’s shoulder. “Give me the head again. Oh yes, harder. Now wiggle it arou—oh!”

Thor grinned as he did Loki’s bidding, watching the ecstasy unfold on his brother’s face. He used his free hand to grasp Loki’s thigh and knead his supple blue flesh.

“I knew you liked mushrooms,” he rumbled, “but I never expected you would enjoy being fucked by one.”

He slid the mushroom a little lower and popped the entire cap into Loki’s cunt. Then he pressed his fingertips against Loki’s clitoris, tapping and rubbing and petting.

In a matter of seconds, Loki was coming.

He cried out and locked his arms and legs around Thor, jerking and bucking, gasping softly through his wide-open mouth. Thor jiggled the stem of the mushroom, which caused Loki to squeak and shudder. Several moments later, Loki finally stopped rocking and opened his eyes halfway, panting for breath.

Thor grinned and kissed his parted lips. “You were perfect,” he murmured into Loki’s mouth. “Incredible.”

He reached down and carefully pulled the mushroom from Loki’s body, releasing the flood of moisture dammed behind it. Thor dipped the cap into the clear fluid and rubbed it against Loki’s sensitized lips, making him shiver. Then he raised the mushroom to his mouth and took an experimental lick. It must have tasted good because a look of wanton hunger suddenly washed over his face; he crammed the whole thing into his mouth, chewed it a few times, and swallowed it down.

“You. You just ate a mushroom,” said Loki, sounding both shocked and amused. “I can’t believe it. What do you think?”

Thor smiled. “Not as bad as I expected. Your seasoning helped, I think.”

Loki bit his lip and grinned devilishly. He took his hand off of Thor’s cock and collected some of the slick still leaking from his body. Then he grasped Thor with his freshly-lubricated fingers and gave him a firm stroke.

Thor thrust eagerly into Loki’s fist, staring into Loki’s eyes while he did it, the scent of his breath—mushroom and something fleshy and tangy—pouring over Loki’s face in hot waves.

“I’m going to eat you after this,” Thor purred into his ear, taking a moment to nibble at the cool, delicate flesh of his earlobe. “I’m going to stick my tongue into that pretty little split of yours and fuck you with it.”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki whispered, sliding his arm over his brother’s muscular shoulder.

Thor quickened his pace, gliding in and out of Loki’s hand. “And that little button you showed me? I’m going to suck it, and it’s going to feel so good to you, Loki, I swear you will be screaming by the end.”

His words degenerated into gasps and grunts as he neared his climax. Loki waited for it, panting through his mouth as he felt Thor’s cock swell in his hand, and then—

Thor groaned and shut his eyes, slammed his hips forward and spent himself onto Loki’s belly, his seed warm and thick and profuse. Loki watched his release: three long pulses of creamy, semi-clear fluid that flowed from Thor’s penis and onto his blue skin.

Loki let go of him and began to dig through the nearby pillows, searching for a mushroom of his own. He found one and dipped it into the cooling ejaculate his brother left on his stomach.

Thor, heaving for breath and with his hair dangling in his eyes, watched Loki coat the mushroom with his spend and then, as he himself had done, eat the mushroom whole. Loki chewed slowly, his eyelids fluttering in delight.

“Oh, Thor,” he sighed, one cheek bulging, “brother, you’ve become my favorite flavor. I am ruined now.”

He swallowed the treat, licked his fingers one by one, and slid his hand around Thor’s neck, pulling his smiling face toward him. They shared a kiss that tasted of mushrooms and their love for one another—raw, rich and fleshy, a dish that could be served hot or cold and was best eaten by hand.

Thor reluctantly dragged his lips from Loki’s. “I could kiss you for the rest of my life,” he uttered, caressing Loki’s soft black hair and staring into his crimson eyes.

“Promise me you will.”

Thor returned the smile with another kiss. “Alright. I promise.”

Loki moaned softly as they parted from one another again, and Thor’s mouth descended to his neck, clasping and sucking and leaving plum-colored bruises on his skin. Loki’s grin widened the lower Thor ventured: collar and clavicle, sternum and—

Thor grasped the entirety of Loki’s breast in one hand, squeezing the flesh into a mound. Loki looked down at himself, his chin nearly touching his chest as he breathed heavily through his mouth. Thor’s tongue stretched from between his lips like a pink tentacle and probed the tender peak of Loki’s nipple.

“Ahh,” sighed Loki, then cried out as Thor lured the bud between his teeth and nipped it. “Oh, gently! Please, brother, be gentle. I’m so sensitive there…”

Thor apologized for his roughness by pressing a kiss to the offended nipple and massaging Loki’s sides in long, soothing strokes, spreading his palms wide against Loki’s ribs and following the raised, barely-tangible markings on his skin.

The caresses immediately put Loki into a state of drowsy, languid pleasure. He brought his hands up to hold Thor’s head and threaded his fingers into his tangled golden strands. Thor pressed his face to Loki’s chest once again, his mouth open wide to suck as much of Loki’s breast into it as he possibly could. One of his hands crept over to tease the other nipple, gently tugging and rolling the firm indigo nub between his fingers.

Loki sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, tilted his chin upward as Thor mouthed him. He shivered and his body gave another squelch, pouring its readiness out onto the wet sheets beneath them.

Thor suddenly went still and released Loki’s nipple with a soft smack. “There’s something coming out of you.”

“Hm?”

“Your breasts. They’re weeping.”

Loki opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. He uttered a startled gasp.

A bead of clear liquid trembled at the tip of his erect nipple.

“Oh, Thor, what…?”

“I don’t know,” Thor murmured, gazing heatedly at his brother. “But it’s rich and sweet, and I will take all that you can give me.”

“Wait, it might—oh!”

Thor fell on him with a thirst Loki was unprepared for; he moaned as Thor sucked him hard, kneading his breast and drawing the strange liquid out of him. His fingers tightened in Thor’s hair. He bent his knees and spread his legs, grinding his hips into Thor’s stomach.

“Oh, Thor,” he whispered softly. “This feels so pleasing. It’s like nothing I’ve ever…”

He arched into Thor’s touch, offering more of this tender, intimate gift he had unknowingly created—and which was being eagerly consumed. He stroked Thor’s hair, lightly raked his nails across his hot scalp, then leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

Thor heard Loki’s words and felt the press of his mouth in his hair, and a powerful surge of love and desire flooded his heart. He doubled his efforts, massaging and tugging with renewed appreciation, nuzzling his face into the soft, spongy flesh that was feeding him. The milk, or whatever it was that he was sucking from Loki’s little blue teat, was going directly to his cock. Within seconds Thor went from being totally flaccid to painfully, astonishingly hard, and there was a fire burning deep down inside him that desperately needed to be fed.

“Mmm, Loki,” he purred, gulping down another small but satisfying mouthful. “You are delicious. You are ambrosia. You… you are mine.”

He was ravenous, utterly mad with hunger. He wanted to suck Loki’s entire body in his mouth. He wanted to swallow him whole like one of those mushrooms and feel him go down, far down into that hot, dark place in his belly, and give him the release he needed.

“Your taste is beautiful,” he uttered. “I want to fuck you. I want to eat you.”

His cock pressed against Loki’s thigh, throbbing between their bodies. If it slipped just a little bit to the right and so much as brushed Loki’s warm, glistening lips, his fortitude would falter and he would end it too soon. And there was so much more of Loki to sample.

Loki took Thor by the hair and pulled him off—with great difficulty. Thor was panting for breath, his face hot and red and sweaty.

“We can eat each other at the same time,” Loki muttered. “On your back, Thor.”

He moved speedily to do as Loki commanded; he lay down, his cock slapping against his belly and leaving excited little dribbles wherever it touched. Loki climbed over him on his hands and knees and turned himself around.

Thor caught a glimpse of Loki’s crevice—the dark blue wink of his hole and the plump, tender lips of his vulva—before his vision was eclipsed and he was suddenly nose-deep in his brother’s sweet, sloppy folds.

Blessed Norns, this was something he never knew he needed until this very moment.

He grasped Loki’s hips and pulled him down hard onto his mouth, pressing up into him and kissing that beautiful, dripping cunt with his whole face. Loki gasped and began to whine.

Thor sucked at the swollen lips he was buried within, nibbling and nipping, swallowing the warm, tangy fluid that oozed from Loki’s body. He growled with excitement and tickled Loki’s clitoris with the tip of his tongue. Loki jolted in surprise before relaxing and surrendering to Thor’s caresses. Thor ate greedily, lapping and licking at the meaty, swollen little nub, pursing his lips around it and slurping noisily.

“Ahh, Thor,” Loki moaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Oh, yes, brother!”

Thor groaned as he felt Loki’s cool hands wrap around his erection.

Loki’s bottom lifted up and his head went down, and Thor barely enough time to appreciate the fresh air before his world did a somersault. He felt Loki’s velvety lips on the head of his cock and the warm, slippery lap of his tongue. Now he was in his mouth, gliding against the smooth inner flesh of his cheeks. He felt the scrape of Loki’s sharp white teeth, the slick channel of his throat as it opened wide around him.

Thor shut his eyes and moaned when he felt the cold tickle of Loki’s uvula drag across his oversensitive head. “Nnhohh gods, Loki, yes.”

He wished he could see this, Loki’s gorgeous face wrapped around him, swallowing him, eating him just like he was eating Loki a few moments ago. It would be a pleasure and a privilege to witness such a feast, to see the lust in Loki’s eyes, the love, the pleasure—and he would, soon. Thor was determined to satisfy his brother or die trying.

He leaned up, grabbed Loki by his haunches, and planted his face back into his split, penetrating him with his tongue as Loki attempted to swallow his whole length—an impossible feat, but he tried, stroking with his hands whatever he could not fit into his mouth. He lavished attention on Thor’s testicles, cupping them in his hand and kissing the cool, loose skin of his sac, licking and sucking at it until Thor was groaning with every breath.

“I’ve always been fascinated by these,” Loki purred, delicately rolling Thor’s balls in his palm. “So heavy and vulnerable. And this is where your seed comes from?”

“Yeth,” Thor lisped, holding Loki’s lips apart with his thumbs while his tongue washed the tender blue bump within. He could hear Loki’s breath becoming short.

“Are you going to give it to me?”

Oh, gods, that question brought Thor right to the edge.

“Yes,” he panted, sucking more urgently. He felt Loki’s mouth on his cock again, warm and wet, stroking rhythmically up and down. The sounds of their mutual gorging filled the room’s cool air: smacking, licking, slurping. “I’m going to give it to you. I’m going to fill you up with it, every last drop of me. I want to be inside you forever, and you inside me. Now come for me, Loki. Give me your release. Pour it onto your big brother, who loves you so much.”

Loki came with a stuttering cry and planted himself on Thor’s face, rocking and squealing while Thor gripped his thighs with his powerful hands and responded with as much force as his mouth could muster. Loki’s opening shivered against Thor’s lips but his penis remained soft and did not spill; perhaps its purpose was strictly secondary tonight.

Thor thrust his tongue into Loki’s fluttering sheath and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of his hips, holding him still. Loki moaned and trembled, holding on to Thor’s cock as if it were a saddlehorn.

As much as Thor loved being buried in Loki’s sweet, messy underside, it didn’t allow for very much air. He coaxed Loki up and off and took a much-needed breath. His face was completely soaked, shining with the same warm, clear fluid that Loki had been oozing all evening.

The weight on his body vanished as Loki crawled up and turned around to face him. His cheeks were flushed a deep violet-blue, his hair falling across his forehead and his eyes blazing hotly. He leaned down and dragged his tongue over Thor’s wet cheek.

“You smell like me,” he whispered, sucking his own gloss off Thor’s lips. “I’m on your breath. I’m on your tongue”—he grasped Thor’s stubbly jaw and kissed him deeply—“I’m in your mouth. I’m inside you.”

Thor wrapped his arms around Loki’s slender body and hugged him as he returned the kiss, their lips sliding easily against one another. He ran his hands across Loki’s back, stroking and kneading, squeezing his buttocks, burying his fingers in Loki’s soft black hair. Loki melted against him, his thighs sliding apart to frame Thor’s hips, and Thor could feel his own pulse thumping rapidly along with Loki’s as their bellies pressed hard against one another, pinning their cocks between them.

Loki propped himself up on his hands and smiled down at his brother, his teeth dazzling white against the cobalt hue of his face. “Hmm, how shall I reward the man who has made me feel so wonderful?”

Thor returned the smile and reached up to lightly grasp both of Loki’s dark blue nipples, squeezing them between his fingertips as he pulled down. Thick drops of the same sweet, transparent milk formed at each tip, and Loki moaned softly at the sensation.

“Feed him,” Thor murmured.

Loki’s grin darkened and he crawled up a few inches, until Thor’s mouth could easily reach him. Then he lowered himself, folding and tucking his legs against Thor’s sides and lying on top of him. He gasped sharply as Thor latched on again and began to suckle, the prick of his whiskers sharp and thrilling on the soft skin of his breast.

Loki craned his neck back and half-sighed, half-moaned, stretching his arms out. He began to rock himself steadily, sliding his belly back and forth against Thor’s drooling, painfully hard organ. As he did, his fingertips brushed against a mushroom lying somewhere on the sheets beyond Thor’s head. Loki grabbed it and lifted himself unexpectedly, pulling his nipple from the hard suction of Thor’s mouth. The look of disappointment on Thor’s face was almost laughable.

Loki clicked his tongue and held the mushroom to Thor’s lips. “You need something solid if you hope to be sated,” he said playfully. “There is not enough of me to feed you.”

Thor smirked and squeezed the thick, meaty part of Loki’s backside where buttock met thigh. “I think there is,” he said, but he opened his mouth and used his tongue to pluck the mushroom from Loki’s fingers. He chewed and swallowed and then pulled Loki back down to him. He nursed the other breast this time, sucking and pressing with his lips and teeth, stroking Loki’s nipple with his tongue every time he swallowed.

Loki began to breathe heavily, his eyelids drooping as Thor continued to feed. He whimpered suddenly and Thor felt the muscles of Loki’s belly shudder against him. He heard a soggy squelch, followed by a warm, wet sensation spreading on the root of his cock. He swallowed a few more drops before releasing Loki’s soft, distended nipple. They met each other’s eyes. Loki appeared close to swooning.

“You’re ready, aren’t you,” Thor murmured, stroking the small of Loki’s back. “You’re ready to take your big brother’s horn.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki panted. His dark hair fluttered around his face with every breath he heaved. “Yes, Thor, I’m ready.” He leaned down and kissed Thor hungrily, rising up on his knees a little.

Thor slid his arm between their bodies and took himself in his hand, unpinning his cock and pushing it down between Loki’s legs, where Loki’s penis hung limp and soft. A quiet whimper escaped Loki’s lips when Thor cupped his mound with the same hand that was guiding his erection into place.

“Look at me,” Thor commanded, and Loki did, icy red staring into fiery blue. “I want to see your face when we come together.”

Loki smiled dizzily and angled his hips forward to meet his brother’s length. His smile vanished, replaced with a wide-eyed look of astonishment when he felt the first three inches of Thor’s cock push through his folds and into his vagina, spreading open the tiny hole.

Thor was in a similar state of stupefaction.

“You are silk,” he panted, eyes tacking back and forth across Loki’s face in wonder. “You are cream. So smooth and thick…” He lifted his hips a little and another inch entered Loki.

Loki squeaked, his eyebrows angling upward in the center of his forehead. “Oh. Oh, Thor. I can’t stand it, I need to, I—” He rose to his knees, straddling Thor’s hips with just the tip of his length inside him, before spreading his thighs and sinking all the way down. “Ohhh yes, yes!”

Thor’s mouth dropped open and he shouted an oath when he felt Loki’s hot, slippery flesh glide down over his shaft and swallow him all the way to his balls, the plump lips spread wide around his root. The tightness of Loki’s virgin sheath was both exquisite and excruciating, and Thor wondered how in the Eight he was ever going to move in him. He could feel the unyielding wall of Loki’s cervix pressing down on his cockhead and knew he could go no farther.

Loki moaned and rocked forward once, opening his legs until he was sitting squarely on Thor’s hips. He stared down at Thor with a drunken grin on his lips.

“Now you feel me, brother,” he murmured, and when he tightened his pelvic muscles, it sent bolts of delight rippling through Thor’s cock and into his belly. “How do you like it, this grotto of mine?”

Thor groaned wordlessly and took Loki by the hips. “Oh, Loki, it’s—you’re wonderful. Better than anything I could have ever…”

Loki rocked himself again and sighed. “I can feel your heartbeat in me. It’s so strong.” He reached down and placed his hands on Thor’s broad chest, stroking up and down, caressing his neck. “I’m going to ride you for a little while, then you may roll over and take me as hard as you like. How does that sound?”

His words alone made Thor dizzy. “Anything you wish, Loki, I am yours to command.”

“Hmm, I know,” Loki hummed, lifting up a little and then planting himself hard onto Thor’s lap again. “And I am yours, yet only now are we perfect and complete, one flesh, one body.”

“One flesh…” Thor echoed, staring down at where they were joined.

Loki repeated the motion, rising a little higher and allowing Thor to see the gleaming red shaft of his cock for a moment before he sank down again. Thor could feel fresh moisture oozing from Loki’s vagina, creating a dense film around him, allowing them to move more easily.

Loki’s eyelids fluttered. “Oh, Thor, I have dreamt of you filling me like this. How I’ve longed for it.”

Thor blinked in amazement. “You have longed for me?”

“In my heart. In my body. Every day.”

Loki put his weight onto his hands and began to ride Thor, a smooth pumping motion, raising his hips and dropping them down—slowly at first, then becoming faster as the minutes passed and his body stretched to accommodate Thor’s girth.

“I have loved you as a brother and as a friend,” he panted, staring down at Thor and palming the hard swell of his pectorals. “And someday I shall love you as my king. But I have always prayed that one day I might love you as a companion, that you would leave our brotherhood to memory and take me as your lover”—he ground himself onto Thor’s pelvis, rubbing his clitoris against the base of Thor’s cock—“ah, giving me this, this. Your magnificent horn. Your beautiful body. Your perfect heart.”

Thor was unaware of the tears trickling from the corners of his eyes and running down toward his ears. All he felt was Loki’s tight, slippery flesh sliding on and off of him—warm and thick, smooth and sleek—and the love that has filled his chest so completely that he could scarcely breathe.

He rose up without another word, wrapping his arm around Loki’s waist and carefully rolling him over into the sheets. Loki went down without protest, sprawling beneath Thor’s larger body and panting softly.

“I am going to love you, Loki,” he promised, and slipped his hand beneath one of Loki’s sweaty knees, hiking his leg up. “Now, and when I am king. You shall be mine.”

He thrust forward, bottoming out, crammed tightly into Loki’s sweet clasp. Loki gasped and arched his back.

“There will be no others after me,” he grunted, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in. Loki’s mouth hung open in a perfect “O” and he reached up to grasp the sheets above his head. “I am the first man to touch you, the first flesh to enter you, and I shall be the last. This wet little flower of yours, Loki, this pretty thing between your legs, it is mine. You spread your petals and gave it to me, and I will guard it for the rest of my life. I alone shall be the one to satisfy it—and you—from now on. For ever.”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki panted, his eyes falling closed. “That is all I have ever wanted.”

Thor leaned down and caught Loki’s mouth in a kiss, the motion of his hips still rocking them up and down, the only sound being their heavy breaths and the rustle of their bodies in the sheets. Loki buried his hands in Thor’s hair and devoured his mouth. Thor pushed Loki’s leg up even farther, almost to his shoulder, and Loki spread his other leg wider, curling his bottom half up to meet Thor’s thrusts.

Thor pounded noisily into Loki’s leaking cunt, smacking and slopping, the swollen blue lips spreading around him as he drove in, and clinging to him as he pulled out. His cock hugged every curve of Loki’s channel, snugly and perfectly, as if they had been destined thousands of years ago to fit together in this very moment.

Staring down into Loki’s dark red eyes, so full of love and promise, Thor could not help but believe it to be true.

Loki ran one hand down Thor’s chest, across the thick, flexing muscles of his abdomen, then descended to the hard plane of his lower belly. He bit his lip and curled himself up tighter so that he could reach down between his legs and lay his hand on his vulva, fingers spread, feeling the brush of Thor’s penis as he glided in and out.

“You like that?” Thor rumbled, smiling. “You like to feel me going inside you?”

Loki responded with a self-indulgent leer. “I like to feel my body swallowing you. I bet it’s quite a sight.”

“Oh, brother, you have no idea.” Thor’s thrusts became shallow and fast, beads of sweat gleaming on his throat. “We, we must do this in front of a mirror next time,” he huffed, “so you can see. See me—nghh—fucking your sweet little jötunn pussy. Legs spread and your… your beautiful body taking my cock. Wet and yielding. All mine. Haa, Loki—”

Loki’s hand left the action and began to massage his clitoris. His eyes fell half closed as Thor’s deep pounding and his own stimulation brought him closer to climax. Thor grunted as he felt the first telltale clench of Loki’s impending orgasm, and his cock jerked within the velvety tightness.

“Oh, gods,” he groaned, trying to fight it, trying to hold off. “Oh, Loki, your big brother is about to come inside you, are you ready for it?”

“I’m ready. I’m ready, Thor. I… ah—” Loki’s mouth fell open and his eyebrows bent upward in the center of his forehead. “Ah, Thor! Now, now, oh yes!”

Thor felt Loki’s body lock tightly around him, fluttering and clenching, encouraging him to spill. The veins stood out on Thor’s flushed, sweaty face as he gripped Loki and roared, slamming himself forward until he could feel the spongy kiss of Loki’s cervix against the tip of his cock. Then his muscles went rigid and he released himself with a loud groan.

Loki wrapped his legs around Thor’s waist and rocked up and down, yelping and moaning, throwing his head back and heaving clipped obscenities with every gasp. His sheath shuddered and squeezed and milked Thor until he was dry and spent.

When Thor pulled out a few moments later, a pool of semen drooled out from between Loki’s plump lips and ended up on the sheets beneath him. For some reason it struck Thor as a terrible waste, so he moved down between Loki’s legs and licked up his spilled seed, following it to the source. He planted his mouth on Loki’s split and sucked hard, drawing it out of him and making him moan. He flicked his tongue against Loki’s clitoris and was a little surprised when two strong thighs clamped around his head and Loki grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“Ah! Brother! Yes!” he cried, grinding and bucking against Thor’s face as he climaxed again.

He came down slowly over the course of a minute, shuddering one last time before finally heaving a heavy, sated sigh. Thor lay beneath him with his limbs splayed out, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I wish,” he panted, “wish I could have. Lasted longer. That first time. Haa.”

“Hmm, there’s always the second time.” Loki gathered a handful of Thor’s hair and pulled him gently upward, smirking, until their lips met in a kiss. “And the third.” Kiss. “And the fourth.” Kiss.

“How many times are you planning to have me tonight?” asked Thor with a wild grin.

“Until I decide I’ve had enough,” Loki said, then put his hand on the top of Thor’s head and pushed him down. “Suck.”

Thor obeyed. He took Loki’s breast in his hand, massaged it before he clasped his lips to the taut nipple and began to feed. Loki sighed a breathy yes to the ceiling and cradled Thor’s head in his arms. In a matter of minutes, Thor was hard and straining again, but Loki was no longer yielding the amount he once was.

Thor tried the other breast—it too was dry—before lifting his head sadly. “It’s all gone. I suppose we’ll have to stop soon.”

But Loki shook his head. “The mushrooms,” he said, pointing to the full bag across the room. “Get them. They…”

The pieces came together in Thor’s mind. He leaped off the bed and dashed across the floor, moving as only a man with an aching erection can move: hopping and hobbling, slightly bow-legged, entirely undignified. He grabbed the bag and came loping back. It was such an amusing sight that Loki covered his mouth and began to giggle.

Thor was very aware of how ridiculous he must look and climbed back into bed with a chuckle of his own. He crawled atop Loki and straddled him, then upended the bag over him. Dozens of mushrooms plunked and plopped against Loki’s belly, rolling across his chest, settling all around him. Thor tossed the sack away and leaned down, ducking his head to pick up a mushroom from Loki’s stomach with his teeth. He chewed it, swallowed, and went for another. Loki grabbed two mushrooms, crammed them both into his mouth, and fumbled for a third and fourth while he chewed.

Very soon Loki was breathless again, his nipples leaking and his cock finally growing hard. Thor grasped it in his hand and began to stroke it encouragingly as he lay against Loki’s side and resumed suckling. He hardened after just one mouthful, and he lifted his head to give Loki a smile.

“How shall I pleasure you this time, brother?”

Loki grinned wickedly. “Why don’t I show you some of my horns first? You said you wanted to see them.”

“Indeed, I did. And I still do.” Thor leaned down and kissed Loki’s warm blue lips. “Show me how you please yourself.”

“Mm, I will,” Loki purred, stroking Thor’s hair. “And then I’m going to throw them all away. Because this”—he reached down and squeezed Thor’s erection—“is the only horn I want in me from now on.”

Thor smiled and gently thrust into Loki’s grasp. “Whatever you desire, my sweet prince, I shall gladly render unto you.”

It was indeed an erotic sight, Loki demonstrating the use of each horn in his collection. Some were smooth. Some were bumpy. Some were thick and twisted and looked delicious as they slipped through his dark blue folds, smacking and squelching, and emerged glistening, their polished lengths dripping with Loki’s juices.

Thor didn’t dare touch himself while he watched—he was too close to coming as it was, listening to Loki’s whining and whimpering as he gave himself orgasm after orgasm. But when the last moan left Loki’s lips and the final horn was tossed aside, Thor descended upon him, slipping easily inside, and fucked Loki so hard and so thoroughly that the bed moved several inches across the floor.

“Bet your horns can’t do that,” Thor teased afterward, and Loki had snickered and shaken his head.

They had sex on the rug like animals, and one time standing, Thor holding Loki in his arms and lifting him on and off of his cock. Loki got on his knees afterward and sucked the taste of himself from his brother’s flesh, brought him to climax, and smiled as Thor painted his face with come.

Thor then returned the favor, pinning Loki against the wall and going down on his knees, introducing his brother to a new kind of pleasure: he hiked Loki’s leg onto his shoulder, greased his fingers with Loki’s slick, then popped them one by one into his ass, tight and hot and completely virgin. He showed Loki the pleasure in this type of penetration, seeking out his gland and massaging it until Loki’s face was dark and hot, beading with sweat. When he finally came, it seemed to last forever, his cock pulsing and pouring line after line until finally he collapsed, moaning with every breath he took.

Between orgasms, they gorged themselves on mushrooms until the only ones that remained were the few scattered and strewn about in the bed. Thor drained Loki’s breasts of their sweet, potent milk and Loki’s nipples were left raw and sore and sensitive.

Finally, sometime in the small hours of the night, they collapsed with weariness and fell asleep in a reeking swamp of tangled bedsheets, smashed mushrooms, and the dried remnants of their own bodily fluids.

A servant walked in the next morning—Prince Loki was usually away from his chambers by this hour—and promptly turned around and walked out. It wasn’t so much the sight of the destroyed bed and naked bodies sprawled atop as it was the smell. A whorehouse in a dank forest was a good way to describe it. Not that the servant ever planned to; he was already trying to forget everything he’d seen.

The sound of the shutting door roused Thor. He stirred, opened his eyes, then grimaced and smacked his lips. There was an awful taste in his mouth, like dirt and moss and someone else’s sweat. What did he eat last night? Why was he so sticky? And what in the Eight was he doing in Loki’s…

It all came back to him when he turned his head and saw Loki lying beside him, sleeping soundly. He was on his back, one leg drawn up and one arm tucked beneath his head, his messy black hair framing his face. His cock rested softly on his thigh, but that wasn’t what Thor was looking at; it was the area below that had his attention. The damp, dark blue lips he had nibbled last night—split, that’s what Loki had called it, his split—the tongueless mouth Thor had kissed and suckled and—

Suckled. Oh, gods.

Thor’s eyes wandered up to Loki’s chest. His breasts were no longer swollen and puffy, but flat, emptied of their sweet, mysterious nectar. His nipples were still enlarged, like soft indigo medallions, bruised from hours of eager nursing. The fading impressions of Thor’s teeth still marked his flesh.

Thor unconsciously licked his lips, recalling the taste and feeling of those succulent buds in his mouth. His cock throbbed and he clapped his hand over it—a little too hard. He hissed and grunted, squirming with pain.

He needed to get out of here. Maybe Loki in his mushroom-intoxicated state will have been spared the horror of this memory and… And will wake wondering why there was dried semen on his thighs and why his split was a stretched, aching cavern. No, Thor could not leave. It would be a cowardly thing to do. He would stay. He would answer for the terrible things he did to his brother.

He didn’t have to wait long. After a few minutes, Loki stirred and pushed himself upright.

“Hmm, brother,” he mumbled. “What are you do…”

He trailed off when he saw the guilty, gutted look on Thor’s face. His eyes drifted down to Thor’s naked body. It was bruised, battered, covered in scratches—red lines of four or five, raking across his chest and shoulders—his golden-brown hair tangled and tousled, oddly sticky-looking.

Thor could see the memories flooding back to Loki, the way his eyes widened with shock and his cheeks flushed dark blue. He raised his hand to his mouth.

“Oh, Thor,” he uttered, “what have we done?”

It was a rhetorical question. They both knew exactly what they had done, how many times they did it, and how shamelessly it was committed.

Thor turned his face away and stared at the mangled remains of a mushroom on the sheets. “I spent inside you. Four times, if not more. You will need to cast a cleansing spell so you don’t”—his voice cracked—“don’t become burdened.”

Loki gazed numbly at Thor’s bare shoulder, at a crusty, scabby bite mark that matched the shape of his teeth. He gulped and carefully tucked his hair behind his ear.

“Yes, I. I shall do that.”

Neither of them moved for a full minute. They sat in the wreckage of their lust, recounting the details of every filthy, forbidden thing they did to each other, every vulgar word they whispered.

Thor flinched when Loki touched his shoulder, and it was only through an act of incredible courage that he managed to turn and face him.

Loki stared at him worriedly. “We need to bathe. We need to get the smell off of us. This way.”

He grasped Thor’s hand and pulled him off the bed, guided him into the bathroom. Together they stepped into the washing chamber and Loki turned on the water. A warm cascade splashed onto their heads, flattening their hair against their scalps and rinsing the sweat and stickiness from their bodies.

Loki picked up a sponge and lathered it with soap while Thor stood under the stream, unable to raise his head, his heart heavy with shame. When Loki began to wash him, it brought tears to his eyes.

“I have no excuse,” he said suddenly, brokenly. “No apology I can offer that will even come close to conveying my regret. Loki, I am… I’m so…”

“Do you love me, Thor?” Loki asked over the patter of the water.

Thor frowned. “Wh—yes. Yes, of course. I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I didn’t know the mushrooms would affect you like that. If I did, I would never have—”

“Shh, brother, I know.”

Loki drew the sponge across Thor’s chest, painting his skin with a swath of foamy suds.

Thor’s heart smoldered. After all he did to Loki, the way he used him—the way he claimed him, both in word and deed—and now here he stood, his hair shining like black obsidian, rills of water following the lines on his handsome face, running from the end of his nose and chin, hanging in his long eyelashes…

Thor reached out and picked up the vial of scented oils and liquid soap that Loki used to clean his hair. He poured some onto his palm, rubbed his hands together, and began to wash Loki’s locks.

Loki leaned into Thor’s hands, welcoming the touch.

They bathed in silence, standing naked and vulnerable in front of each other, their bodies sore and their hearts raw and full. They met each other’s eyes many times, and each time their gazes lingered longer and longer until, at last, they both shut their eyes and leaned forward.

Their lips met and they kissed, the water running fresh and clean in their mouths, a sweet and loving kiss that should have happened years prior to the events of last night.

Thor began to harden, his cock rising stiffly and pressing into Loki’s thigh. “I know you’re sore,” he murmured. “So am I. I don’t want to do anything right now. I only… I want you to know that I love you.”

“I know,” Loki whispered and kissed his brother again, deeply, cradling his neck and opening wide to slip his tongue into Thor’s mouth.

Thor slid his soapy arms around Loki’s waist and held him tightly, pouring himself into the kiss. After a few breathless moments, they parted with a soft smack. Loki laid his hand over Thor’s heart.

“I love you, too, Thor. And I hope you will forgive me for the senseless things I said last night.”

“I said many senseless things as well”—Thor covered Loki’s hand with his own—“but a few of them were true.” He brought the hand to his mouth and kissed Loki’s warm, wet palm. “Like how I will love you always, now and when I am king. How I would like to be the only man to satisfy you… if that is what you want.”

Loki met Thor’s stormy blue eyes with his own deep red ones. “Yes,” he whispered. “I want that.”

Thor smiled. “Then so be it. One day you will no longer be my brother, but my betrothed.” He cupped Loki’s neck and caressed his jaw with his thumb. “I’ve always thought you looked best in white.”

Loki leered, “Fabric or fluid?”

Thor laughed, and the heavy curtain of guilt that had been cast over them both was abruptly torn down and tossed aside. They shared a kiss and a playful grope, then picked up their soap and oil and resumed bathing.

They washed each other, wringing out sponges and rinsing suds, their touches sensual and soothing, hands massaging away aches and bruises, careful to avoid sensitive, chapped skin.

Thor was especially delicate when he slid his hand between Loki’s legs. The flesh of his vulva was hot and swollen, rough from so many hours of intercourse. He spent only as much time as necessary to get him clean before moving on, turning Loki around to wash his back.

Loki purred and hummed and stretched his arms over his head, deliberately sticking out his rear to receive Thor’s attentions.

Thor slipped his finger between Loki’s cool, wet cheeks and delved into his warm interior, locating his tight little cinch. He rubbed it, fondling and circling, petting and prodding.

With an understanding smile, Loki lifted his leg and rested his foot on the nearby shower bench, opening himself up. Thor pressed in gently and the strong ring of muscle clamped down onto his knuckle. He pushed farther, finding that Loki was still a little slick from last night’s explorations. Good; that would make things much easier.

“I want to enter you here,” he murmured against Loki’s ear. “May I?”

“Yes,” Loki answered. “Please.”

In a few minutes, Loki was leaning against the shower’s stone wall while Thor sank slowly into his ass, aided by a little bit of oil.

“Tell me where,” said Thor, pulling out and sliding back in with a sharp motion, making Loki gasp. “I want to please you.”

“Lower,” said Loki. “Toward my belly. Downward and—oh.” His eyes rolled as Thor’s cock nudged into his gland. His mouth dropped open. “Oh, yes, yes, there. Right there, Thor, yes.” He pressed back onto Thor’s organ, impaling himself, craving more stimulation.

Thor grasped Loki’s haunches and ground himself into his sweet spot, rewarded by the moan Loki released. Then he drew out and slid back in, aiming for the same mark and successfully hitting it. Loki jolted, his erection throbbing and dripping streams of water and precome.

“Oh, slower, Thor. Please, go slower,” he begged. “Take your time. I want… want you to do this for hours.”

“I don’t think I can last that long,” said Thor breathlessly, “but I will try.”

Loki clung to the cool, wet wall, eyes closed and back arched, his hindquarters presented readily to his brother. He basked in the feeling of Thor’s huge, thick member repeatedly entering his body, spreading his flesh, filling it full, pressing gently into his prostate over and over and sending bolts of pleasure echoing through his belly.

“I love you, Thor,” he gasped over his shoulder, his dark hair streaming. “I love feeling you in me. I don’t—don’t ever want to be without you.”

“You won’t,” Thor vowed. “I am here for you, Loki. Feel me. All of me.” He squeezed the meat of Loki’s hips and pushed into him until he was fully seated, thigh to thigh, pelvis to buttocks. “I am right here.”

He reached around and tried to grasp Loki’s cock, but Loki pushed his hand away.

“No,” he uttered gently. “No hands. Let me come on my own. I want this to last.”

Thor smiled, his golden hair dripping. “As you wish.”

They took their time, making slow, slippery love while the water pelted onto their bare shoulders. Loki moaned rhythmically with Thor’s thrusts while Thor bit his lip and concentrated, trying to keep his desire simmering yet ready to boil over at Loki’s command. It was maddening and immeasurably pleasing, hanging on the edge like this. Loki’s ring was tight and thrillingly reactive, the muscles clenching and relaxing in time with Thor’s penetrations, his channel warm and slick and welcoming. There was no spongy wall to prevent Thor from going deeper, no danger of accidentally harming Loki’s womb; here he could hammer as hard as he liked.

As long as Loki enjoyed it, of course.

“How does it feel, brother?” Thor asked, hugging him possessively and rolling his hips, his cock twisting and turning inside the hot clutch of Loki’s body.

Loki moaned, rivulets of water running down his face and into his open mouth. “Oh, Thor, it. It feels wonderful. Keep doing that. Yes, haa…”

His testes, sitting low and deep in his belly, tingled and throbbed as he prepared to ejaculate. “Ah, Thor, I’m close,” he panted. “Give it to me, make me come. Harder, yes, brother—yes, yes oh Thor —”

Spurred by Loki’s profane utterances, Thor gritted his teeth and slapped forward faster, deeper, and harder than he had before. Loki’s voice rose in pitch and soon he was crying out, his cock bobbing as it spilled in several long, thick spurts.

Thor followed a few moments later, growling and gripping Loki’s hips so hard that it left a fresh set of dark, Thor-sized finger marks in his blue flesh. He planted himself deep into Loki’s ass and let himself go. It wasn’t much; he had spent most of his seed last night and his body had yet to produce more. But the sensation was just as intense in spite of the small amount, and Thor groaned with relief when he finished. He gave a couple weary thrusts before he began to go soft, and Loki chuckled, “You’re quite welcome.”

They disengaged from one another and Loki turned, wrapped his arms around Thor’s broad shoulders, and kissed him beneath the warm, relaxing spray. When they parted, Thor nuzzled Loki’s nose with his own, eliciting smiles from them both.

“I don’t know about you,” said Thor, “but I could eat the whole realm and everything in it. Do you think we’ve missed breakfast?”

“I hope not. I’m a little peckish myself.”

Thor smirked. “Peckish, eh?” He proceeded to peck kisses all over Loki’s face, holding him tightly so that he couldn’t move. Loki laughed and squealed, trying to turn away.

They wrestled and kissed and play-fought for a while, Loki slapping at Thor’s arms and face. Thor deftly ignored the wet sting of his brother’s blows and dove in for more kisses. They finally ceased their coy little game and finished washing, turned off the shower, then dried themselves to squeaky cleanliness.

Thor’s clothes were fortunately far from the epicenter of last night’s actions and therefore spared any stains, smells, and smears from smashed fungi. Once he had fully dressed himself, nearly all of the scratches and bruises on his body were concealed.

Loki, however, was not so fortunate. As a jötunn living in a warm, non-native climate, he seldom wore anything other than silky, skin-baring vests and barely-there breechcloths. But there was no way he could present himself in public—or even within the palace—looking like he currently did: teeth marks on his chest, bruises that had been sucked onto his neck and collarbone, marks along his flanks and thighs from being held and handled roughly.

Thor stared at his brother’s nude form and was both aroused and slightly ashamed by the evidence of his sexual appetite.

“Here,” he said gently, stepping toward Loki, “I think I might be able to help.”

A short time later, they emerged from Loki’s room and quietly shut the doors behind them. They stole away down the corridor as quickly as they could, leaving the scene of what had been, up to this point, the most exciting and intoxicated night of their lives. Loki was dressed in a long, lightweight tunic with a collar to hide his bruised neck, a pair of linen leggings, and his customary leather sandals. It was a warmer outfit than his usual attire, but it would have to do for now. He was grateful to Thor for helping him dig these garments from the deepest, most unused part of his closet, the one reserved for trips to the Arctic regions of Midgard or the damp, frigid mountains of Niflheim. Keeping warm was never much of a problem for a jötunn.

They made their way from the north wing of the palace and into the main corridor, greeting the staff with polite nods. Only once did Thor, in one last act of unrestrained lust, catch Loki’s shoulder when the coast was clear and pull him into a shadowy alcove, kissing him with wild fervor. Loki responded just as wildly, jumping into Thor’s arms and wrapping his legs around his hips, forcing Thor to hold him by his bottom.

They were quiet and quick, their hearts trembling at the possibility of being discovered. Then they wrenched apart, smoothed their hair and rumpled clothes, and tried not to snicker as they made their way into the dining hall.

Their mother, Queen Frigga, was still there, sipping her morning tea with a book propped open in her hand. She looked up when her sons entered the hall and smiled, rising to her feet.

“Good morning, my lazy birds,” she greeted, gliding over to kiss their cheeks. “Loki, darling, we missed you at dinner last night. The cooks made seaweed salad, your favorite.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mother,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful. “I wasn’t feeling well. Bit of a cold, I think.” He folded his cloth-covered arms conspicuously over his cloth-covered chest, sniffling for dramatic effect.

Frigga clicked her tongue. “Oh, dear,” she said, placing her hand on his forehead. “You do feel a little clammy. Perhaps you should go back to bed.”

“A wise idea. He could use some rest,” said Thor, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

Loki, on the other hand, blushed deep indigo.

Frigga’s brow creased worriedly and she patted his cheek. “Goodness, perhaps you’re getting another one of those awful summer fevers you used to have when you were younger. I thought for sure you’d be over them by now. Wait here, darling, I have just the thing.”

She turned and went to the buffet table where a variety of cold meats and raw vegetables were arranged on platters. She selected a tray from the middle and brought it back to them. It was covered with a multitude of chilled, freshly-gathered mushrooms, ranging from small and thin to large and thick, caps of all shapes and colors: grays and whites, speckles and streaks, browns and beiges. No exotic purple toadstools to be seen.

Frigga cheerfully lifted the tray. “Nothing treats a summer fever like a heavy dose of vitamin D. Go on, darling, help yourself.”

Loki let out a surprised eep and blushed even darker. Thor just stared at the assortment of phallic-looking fungi with unblinking eyes and a watering mouth.

Upon regaining his composure, Loki took a long, deep breath and managed to put on a smile. “Thank you, Mother,” he said pleasantly, touching her hands, “but for once I think I’ve had quite enough mushrooms.”

Before Frigga could say anything—such as what had gotten into her son, which would have been an infinitely worse comment than her previous one—Thor stepped forward, snatched up a fistful of mushrooms, and stuffed them into his mouth. He was already reaching for the next handful as he began to chew.

Frigga let out a bark of astonishment. “Well, I never! Thor Odinson, eating mushrooms! I thought you hated them, dear.”

Thor choked as he tried to swallow. “I, er.” He gulped, this time managing to get everything down. “I acquired a taste for them recently.”

Loki rolled his lips inward and bowed his head, trying not to burst into laughter—or tears.

“Gracious,” said Frigga, glancing between her sons. “Perhaps you’re both coming down with something. I’ll have the cooks prepare some soup. Cold eel and hot chicken, one for each of you.”

“That sounds perfect, Mother,” said Thor, reaching out for his third helping. “Just make sure mine has plenty of mushrooms.”

From that day forward, nobody in Asgard loved mushrooms more than Thor Odinson.