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thunclerpuff · 6 years

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the warehouse club

I do not know what this is. Yes, it started as a Sleepover Club AU. Yes, don’t expect it to be anything but shameless teenage fluff. The boys are all around 16 or 17, I don’t know I don’t care. This is set in the fictional city of Crescent Bay, in Australia, and I dared to put in exactly one (1) aussie slang word and I’ve probably used it wrong. It’s not betaed, it’s barely edited, and I’m not a native speaker. Still. It’s 6k of teenage fluff.

(underage teenage drinking and a little of slut-shaming terminology but nobody is really getting judged, it’s just Loki being a jealous bitch. also for some reason Loki is Frigga and Odin’s son and Thor is not and he goes grocery shopping alone. the original plan was to him to live with legal guardian Heimdall but? no word is spoken about it in the text. he’s probably just a con-man). .

It was casual Friday at school, which meant no uniform, which meant most of the kids took the opportunity to show off and try to get laid. Loki was above all that.

He slipped in the first outfit he put his hands over, a pair of cut off jeans and an emerald green shirt casually folded at the end of his bed. That he had felt like putting up a little fashion show the night before and didn’t put his clothes away, it was only a lucky coincidence. He screamed to his mom he was heading out, put a earbud in, and walked down the beach to gather his subjects.

He met Volstagg in front of Fandral's house, rang the bell, rounded the corner to get Sif, then got back to Fandral just as he got out of the door. “How do I look?” he asked- they all ignored him, turned on their heels and went back the way they had come.

It was, all in all, a wonderful morning: the sea breeze was fresh and crunchy, hungry seagulls where causing havoc at the kiosk, and Loki's messy bun was almost perfectly concealing the fact he hadn't took a proper shower in four days. A volleyball flew right over in Fandral's face, even, leaving him butt deep in the sand.

They were still all laughing, Fandral pouting and refusing to jump back on his feet, when a thundering voice interrupted them. Loki turned to the beach volley field, wind blowing in his face and the sun in his eyes, just to see a rather large black silhouette against the blue sky. Thor Borson. Of course.

His stomach did a somersault.

“Sorry, mate, Nebula has a mean smash. Are you hurt?”

Revolting.

Loki watched as Thor hoisted Fandral up, somehow smashing him against his unnecessarily naked chest.

He watched in disgust as Thor giggled like not even a twelve year old reading too many maganizes about having power over boys would. He took three steps back, turned to Sif, said something Loki really didn't pay attention to, sweat trailing down his throat, and just like that he run away, once again a black cut out in the sun.

“Ridiculous.” Loki suggested, and suddenly everyone was watching him.

“What?” he asked, utterly unimpressed. “Flirting like that with Fandral? A slut for the attention.”

They all shared a quick look deciding on who got the first round dissing Loki, and Loki braced himself with disinterest.

“He was being nice.” Volstagg laughed.

“It's kind of sad you think being nice is flirting.” Fandral added.

“Well, wanting to get into his pants is probably the only way someone would force themselves to be nice to Loki.” Sif rounded up.

“Hey.” Loki softly protested against his will. Sif slammed a hand on his back.

“Besides, Fandral will take just about anything regardless from motivation.”

Fandral didn't even try to defend his dignity. He simply sighed and glanced at the field, where Thor was putting on the horrid school shirt.

“What can one say? He's charming.”

“And strong, the muscles aren't for show. He gave Rogers a run for his money. The other day-”

Loki rolled his eyes and started walking on the beach again.

Incredible how some muscles and an arguably pretty face could turn everyone to mush.

“One-” Sif mused from atop the table. Loki knew something was coming, and he would not react to it. “Could argue you're jealous.”

“Jealous?” Loki very elegantly squeaked. “I'm not jealous. I'm the opposite of jealous.”

“What's the opposite of jealous?” Fandral asked, his body twisted on the bench to try and ogle the small basketball field.

Thor was playing. He was truly terrible at it. At least he seemed to be having fun.

“I don't know.” Sif answered. “Let's ask.”

Loki didn't have the time to blink.

“Hey Thor!” she shouted, and he turned just to get the ball smashed on his head.

He recovered quickly. He moved his ridiculous and out of style hair out of the way and smiled at Sif.

Show off. Pretentious. Over-aware of his so-called good looks.

Loki was so preoccupied insulting him in his mind he almost forgot Sif was going to ruin them all.

“What's the opposite of jealous?” she shouted.

Loki stood perfectly still as he contemplated murder.

Thor seemed to think about it for a second.

“Indifferent?” he asked, before Valkyrie threw him the ball once more and he caught it midair with only one hand.

Giant hands. Too long fingers. Overabundance of rings to, once again, peacock his way around.

“Well, this does seal the deal.” Volstagg laughed behind his third club sandwich. “Since you're the opposite of indifferent.”

Sif and Fandral laughed too and Loki wondered, as he did at least fourteen times a day, why he insisted hanging out with such bullies.

He was not jealous of Thor.

He simply refused to worship him like the entire school had started doing two days after he had showed up, obscenely tanned for someone coming straight out of the British inland. Loki bet he had gone tanning just to blend in. He would have bet money on a fake Australian accent too, if he thought Thor capable of such intellectual finesse. That, and Sif had disclosed the fact he was apparently a born and raised Aussie coming back home after three years among the poms.

Loki had avoided another rampage over the word pom, as he felt personally victimized by it and he had just managed to make them all forget it got on his British nerves.

Still, there was nothing objectively wrong with Thor. He was passably good looking if you had the hots for the hunk-on-steroid type, had a full beard at sixteen that he kept as a little bit more than a stubble, sometimes wore square glasses that made him look like he was trying really hard and Loki was reasonably sure were fake, and went to school in his uniform even during casual Fridays.

He also cheated on tests regularly. Point in case.

“Utterly unimaginative.” Malekit said, dropping Loki's essay on his desk like he was slapping him across the face. “You'd be better off sticking to numbers, mister Odinson.”

Well, Loki would have. If they would just let him ignore the whole literature class, which was mostly made of completely subjective interpretations of bad and outdated books, he would have been out of there ages ago.

He didn't say so just because Sif hit him on his shin.

He didn't loudly protest to that abuse because Malekit had just handed Thor's essay back to him, and Loki was outraged.

“Decent job, mister Borson.”

Thor beamed, and now Loki knew he must have been shit at blowjobs too, because there was no way he had got a decent out of Malekit if not by blowing him, and yet he had not even earned a good, so he must have done a barely sufficient job.

He told so to his friends during lunch break.

“How are you so familiar with Malekit blowjobs grading system?” Volstagg asked.

“I do recall him getting a passable, once.” Sif smirked.

“You're all going to hell.” Loki shut his locker close and jumped when he found Thor on the other side of it.

“What?” he asked.

“Need to ask your friends if they're down for a volley match in the evening.” stupid smile and stupid glasses on.

“Sure.” Sif answered.

“I'm a little rusty, but I'm in.” Fandral betrayed him.

“Kidding? Always down for some beach volley.” Volstagg flat out stabbed him.

“Want to be our referee?” Thor asked to him once again, and before Loki could answer, the three backstabbers murdered him in a choir of nos, sacrificing their decency and elegance too.

He rose his eyebrows at all of them. Savages. Monkeys. Spoilers of fun.

“No.” Sif said categorically. “He's not getting anywhere near a position of power in which he has to tell right from wrong and can go unquestioned. That's all he shouldn't be doing in life.”

Thor seemed confused, but he smiled again, and Loki told himself to remember to check if steroids had any effect over the activity rate of facial muscles.

“Well, come to watch?”

“I could play.” he told, and Volstagg laughed. “What? I'm an excellent setter.”

“For the first ten minutes, before you remember you're a lazy twink and just stand there doing nothing.”

“Fandral is a lazy twink too.”

“A functioning one.” Fandral flat out winked at him.

“He can come and hand over powerade.” Sif shrugged.

“Beg your pardon?” Loki asked.

She surely wasn't thinking he would do that.

“Great. See you at five on the beach?” Thor asked, looking straight at Loki.

Show. Off.

Too bad it wasn't going to happen, never in a million years.

Loki took a sip of powerade as Sif smashed the ball over the net with the kind of loud sound Loki would imagine a jet breaking the sound barrier would produce.

Unluckily for her, Thor seemed a natural at receiving.

His forearms had gradually became so red he looked sunburned. Not that Loki was looking at his arms, but it was difficult to avoid a spare glance when they were proving to be the star player of the game.

Not that Volstagg was slacking off on the other side of the net, and Fandral was perpetually rolling in the sand catching any stray ball.

It was taking forever for either team to score a point. Thor, Valkyrie and Nebula were ahead for the time being, but it was a two points margin.

Would have Loki been the referee he would have made the game more spicy, but alas they were all too worried over his superior volley knowledge. He was the son of a twice Olympic beach-volleyball player after all. He had made his mother proud before he decided he was more apt to live the theater life.

Not that the only notion of a three on three beach volley match didn't still destroy his soul. At this point he was almost considering getting a heat stroke on purpose, just to avoid looking at the bastardization of a noble sport.

Nebula scored the last point ages later, and finally Loki had something to do, namely refusing to give out bottles at whoever walked up to him.

“You could get your ass up, you know?” Sif nudged his shoulder with her feet.

“Why reward you with such a view when you're playing like shit.”

A bottle flew over his head and he looked up to see Valkyrie squaring her shoulder, doing that thing with her head and neck that made her look like a cobra ready to strike.

“You're playing like you want to kill someone. There's no grace or purpose. No technique.” he explained, matter of fact.

“Than get up and show us your technique.” Nebula growled.

Well, he had not considered being challenged.

He truly had no will to move his ass, or get sweaty.

“I only play by Olympic rules.”

“Than so be it.” Valkyrie settled. “Me and Nebula versus you and whoever you choose.”

Loki opened his mouth to find another excuse, but Thor jogged to them wiping his forehead with his tank top.

“You set, I spike?” Thor asked, crouching to get the powerade bottle out of Loki's hands.

Loki watched as he drank, the sun filtering trough the bottle in pretty blues and pinks.

“One set to 17.” Loki resolved, standing up and doing his hair up. What a waste of good beach waves. “If you suck, I dump you and Sif takes over.”

“And if you're the one who sucks?”

Loki was not impressed. He didn't take his eyes away from him as he settled in the field.

Nebula had the ball in hand and decided that was enough to decide who was on service first, and Loki was about to protest, but Thor run over to him and moved him away from his spot.

“The ladies start, I have to receive.” he smiled.

“Uh.” Loki answered, blinking.

When Thor flawlessly received the serve, Loki was not ready. He managed to decently set the ball nonetheless. Thor titled his head at him after spiking, and Loki ignored him and focused on the ball.

His second set was flawless, and Thor hit the ball just right. Nebula growled when she fell over, butt in the sand, but Valkyrie had already run to get it, and suddenly the ball was back to them and Loki decided it was to be a two-time attack, and Thor's spike was again a work of violent graceful art, and yet, yet, they didn't score.

He should have made it one set to 7.

The girls scored first, Loki still had to understand how.

He shared a look with Thor as he got up from the sand, wiping at his mouth with his hand, and Loki felt Thor's bloodthirsty smirk between his gut and lower regions.

They scored next.

Loki was exhausted. They had won 27 to 25. He couldn't feel his bones, and he might have just found the way to get himself a heatstroke.

Fandral gave him a high five and rather embarrassingly Loki's balance got lost somewhere and soon enough his back was plastered to Thor's sweaty tank top and it was utterly disgusting.

Thor put a hand on his neck and Loki leaned in just a bit.

“Your pulse is racing. Are you thirsty?” Thor asked in that husky voice of his, and Loki mumbled something back before a faint cramp got the best of his left leg.

“Okay, you need to cool down. Is there somewhere close by we can go? It's probably heat exhaustion.”

They all looked at each other very quickly, and then at Loki.

Loki shook his head.

“There's the warehouse, three minutes from here.”

Traitors.

“Great. Can you walk? You can lean on me.”

Loki looked up.

“I know how to deal with heath exhaustion.”

“And I'm very happy about it. Can you walk?”

Loki squinted at him.

“I really don't like you.”

“Well, I like you.” Oh. “And I'd like you not to die because I had you playing beach volley. You were outstanding, anyway.”

Thor took his absolute lack of attempts of getting away from his body as a confirmation he needed help, and moved to get Loki's arm over his neck, and kept him close with a hand curling around his ribs.

“I know. You weren't half bad either.”

“Half bad? He's magnificent. Mate, you should consider going professional.”

Loki closed his eyes and stopped listening. He was either doing that or walking. Not that Thor couldn't apparently carry his weight like he was a twelve year old girl.

He was vaguely aware of goodbyes with Nebula and Valkyrie and of a cold bottle put in his hand, and of holding it up to his forehead, and of walking the familiar steps to the warehouse.

He wondered if the heat exhaustion was turning into a flat out heat stroke when wind hit them the right way and Thor's scent got sharper, and he thought he smelled good, all beachy and sweaty and male. He smelled stormy, somehow.

Loki couldn't believe they actually had brought Thor to the warehouse.

Or that they had let him stay after he had dropped Loki on one of the beach loungers they had decorated their hideout with.

Or that they had offered him a beer and let him sit on the swing (Loki was somewhat amazed the swingset seemed to fit him and hold him up as he rolled backn and forth on the heels of his feet).

The warehouse was sacred. It had once been the sewing laboratory of Fandral's parents before they moved to a bigger business, and it had gone forgotten until Loki had found out such a thing existed. They had cleaned it, redecorated it, installed air ventilation, dropped colorful fans everywhere, put potted plants all around, and annoyed all the Crescent Bay residents to exhaustion to collect pieces of mismatched old furniture.

It had turned out beautifully. And now Thor was spoiling it with his alien presence.

Loki glared at him, a lukewarm wet towel on his forehead and another on his chest, under his armpits. Thor smiled at him when he turned away from Sif to get his beer off the ground.

He stood up and brought the beer to Loki after taking a sip.

Loki sat up, discarding the towels and crossing his legs. He had not meant to do it to make room for Thor, but that was his interpretation, for he sat down where Loki's leg had been. And where they still belonged.

He stretched his legs over Thor's lap and got the beer from his hand. Thor's cool hand was soon just over Loki's knee, just casually sitting there, and Loki ignored it.

He ignored it too when Thor started brushing his thumb over his cooling down but still heated skin.

“What's the fear lotto?” he asked, probably as a part of the conversation they were having and that had not pierced Loki's brain.

“Nothing.” he said, as Fandral answered. “We each write down something we're afraid to do this week, or just really don't want to do, but we really should do, and the last one picked, we do together.”

Loki almost threw him the bottle, but he wasn't a savage. He threw him a towel.

Sif intercepted it and threw it back.

“If you think it's lame, you can say it. We all think it is.” she added to Thor, and he smiled, getting the beer back from Loki's fingers.

“No, I think it's sweet.”

“Yeah, same thing.” Sif said.

“We've been doing it since we were twelve.” Volstagg explained. “It usually ends up in nothing productive done and much more mischief that what was originally planned.”

“Go figure.” Thor said, tilting the bottle toward Loki. “Are you all childhood friends?” he asked before Loki could defend his honor.

“All but the British weasel.” Sif. “He just turned up one day and started bossing us around.”

“Well, you did look like you were in desperate need of leadership.”

Thor laughed, a low chuckle that was all chest and male, and Loki almost smiled back under the insults coming from his friends.

He could use it, someone to share a little bubble with after his friends refused to recognize his genius.

Someone. Not Thor, of course.

Thor was still looking and Loki needed to escape it but he couldn't without getting up and he was still feeling a little bit dizzy. Oh, well, he supposed there was one way to get away.

“Let Thor play instead of me. I'm off to sleep.” he announced in a flourish before scooting over until his head fit on the sloucher, his tights over Thor's.

He fell asleep just as Sif passed a piece of paper in Thor's hand and they chuckled about something.

Thor had a nice laugh.

“I saw Fandral at the market today.”

Loki answered something but it was muffled by the popsicle in his mouth. What, he really didn't know either. He took an overly sharp turn down Yoshi's waterfalls and paused the game boy not to suffocate around the ice and have it all melting down his hand.

“He was with a new guy? Thor? Such a nice boy, you haven't mentioned him.”

“Yes, I did.” he said, licking at the stick and then his fingers and okay, maybe playing Mario Kart as he ate a popsicle hadn't been one of his best ideas. “The floozy who cheats at tests? That's him.”

Frigga stopped pulling cereal boxes out of the grocery bags and stared straight at him.

“I thought you said he was average looking yet everyone slobbed over him because he was, quoting, an absolute slut.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I might not have enough information to dispute the slut part, but surely I need to call your optometrist if you think the guy is average looking.”

“Mom, ew.”

“Just being objective, he would made an excellent trophy son. He has great hair.” Loki glared. “Besides, Fandral seem to really like him, shouldn't you be a littler nicer to him?”

“Because?” he asked, getting up from the couch. “It's not like they're dating or anything.”

Not that it would have mattered. If anything, Loki would have been more justified in finding his every fault: it was a friend's duty.

He put the popsicle in his mouth again and rummaged trough the bags to find the chocolate covered caramel waffles.

He noticed then his mother hadn't answered.

“What?” he asked, slowly, popsicle in hand and waffles in the other. “They are not.”

“Sure. I mean, I only saw them once, I must have got the wrong impression.”

“You must.” he said, biting into the last bit of melted ice.

He left the stick on the table and went back to his DS. He had a race to win.

Fandral and Thor were not dating.

First of all, Thor was obviously straight and playing the guy up for laughter and self-importance. Loki was insulted somebody would think him genuinely attracted to a guy.

Second of all, Fandral was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and if they were a thing the whole town would know.

Third of all, they simply were not, because Loki said so.

Still, he had to be sure, and to be sure he needed to ask.

“So, coming with me to the raise-founding dance?” he asked Fandral at his locker.

“Can't. Bringing Thor. We're going with Val and Nebula-”

Loki blocked him out. He didn't want to hear a word about their stupid double date or whatever it was, and really he was shocked Fandral had not told him he wasn't up to friendly handjobs in the dark anymore and had simply went off and ditched him and started dating Thor Borson.

Loki needed to save Fandral from this disaster in the making.

He munched on his salad, watching Steve Rogers helping Thor throwing a three pointer.

Thor was so obviously fucking with him too. The flirting was borderline disgusting. Thor was borderline disgusting, leading on well meaning bi boys that way.

And even if he really was interested in boys, it still didn't change the fact he was such a slut and poor little Fandral was set to have his heart destroyed.

It was all in the way Thor walked, all hips forward and shoulders back. And the way he touched people's backs all the time, just between their shoulder blades. And Loki didn't even want to start with his lips.

“Will you stop?” Sif asked from his left.

“Stop what?” Loki asked.

“Daydreaming about graphic porn starring Thor and your sorry self. At least be discreet about it.”

Loki was so offended he stopped chewing.

“Beg your pardon?” he asked, voice a little cracked, around the remains of lettuce in his mouth.

Sif glared at him with disappointment hidden in her eyes, and Loki coul only blink.

Suddenly it was casual Friday again, and Thor actually put on casual clothes.

A stupid inappropriate tank top with sleeves cut down to his lower ribs that were one nip-slip away from indecency. Some ridicolous mid thight black shorts covered in big flowers in muted colors. Fucking boat shoes. The hipster glasses.

He looked like he was begging for someone to drag him in a closet and manhandle him and no. This was Sif masterful plan at work: infiltrating horrible pictures in his head such as Thor naked under him just to test his hornyness and challenge him. Just to see how low could he stoop once again. To see if he had grown after the horrible Bucky Barnes debacle.

In Loki's defence, Barnes had took very little convincing to blow him, and it wasn't like Fandral was going to do anything with his silent crush anyway.

Still, he had promised he wouldn't do it again, and he trusted Sif to send him to intense care if he attempted that again.

Loki had to bleach the cursed image(s) from his head and return to his state of vague dislike for Thor Borson, and back to his plan to save Fandral the heartache.

Even if.

Wait a second.

Loki dropped his pen on the desk and it resonated in the busy silence of the text-taking class.

Malekit looked at him with a look that said I'm grading you down for this, but Loki didn't care, for he had a vision. And for his literature grades were shit anyway and there was no point in trying to save them from drowning when the best they could ever do was floating like sad little sea buoys.

It was easy, really.

Seduce Thor so subtly nobody would know he was doing it, and then go cry to Fandral that Thor had made his move on him like the slut he was, and that Fandral really deserved better.

It was genius.

Not even Sif could beat him up for making out with Thor, if Thor was the offender, and Loki was not opposed to Sif beating people up if those people were not him.

He doodled another suicidal stickmen on the side of his paper, this one strangling himself with a flower crown. He now had a plan.

“Oh.” he mouthed, his mouth a perfect o, when he spotted Thor down the aisle of the supermarket. “Thor. What a coincidence.”

Or not, since he knew from his mother that Thor went grocery shopping at the same time she did.

Thor was once again wearing his hideous flower shorts. No glasses.

Loki was almost disappointed.

“Loki? Is you mother okay?” Thor asked, and Loki blinked.

“Sorry?”

“I always meet your mother around here and since you're here instead of her-”

“Oh, that. No, she's fine, I just wanted to help out. Besides-” he got closer to Thor, who was luckily close to the candy aisle, and reached from something on the shelf. “If I come, I can get treats.” he smiled, looking up at Thor and breathing his glorious stormy scent. It was missing some sweat to be perfect, but- no.

He refused to breath in.

“I didn't know you liked aniseed.” Thor commented, and Loki looked at the package he had in his hand.

He considered getting along with what his carelessness and given him, but what better occasion for planting doubts in Thor's head if not correcting himself? Letting him see how affected Loki was and how ready to be taken if he simply- he dropped the aniseed lollies and got the lime ones, still not his favorites but at least a step up.

“My bad.” he smiled, not inching back.

Thor didn't either.

In fact, he looked at him intently.

Slut.

Loki smiled, and Thor smiled back.

This was going to be so easy.

“Sorry boys, could I-” Loki glared at the old lady strolling down the aisle pointing at the lollies behind them.

“Wait for you turn.” he muttered under his breath as Thor laughed and dragged Loki away from his elbow.

That stupid hands. Large and gentle and cool even if Thor's palms were sweating. The metal of his cheap rings was freeze burning Loki's skin, perpetually on the verge of a sunburn. Loki needed them off of him now.

“Are you in a rush?” Thor asked, still holding him too close.

“It depends. What are you offering me?” Loki asked, buying time. Half of his brain was telling him he was forgetting something he was supposed to do.

“To get to the cash and then go to the bonfire Nebula and her sister are planning. I'm supposed to help with the preparation.”

Oh. The bonfire.

“Oh. The bonfire.”

“Yeah. You were invited?”

“Don't sound so surprised. And yes, it's a homecoming thing graduated students do. Hogunn is coming. Actually, I'm afraid I was supposed to be at the warehouse-” he held up his own arm to maneuver it and spy on Thor's watch. “Five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Thor said, so small and low Loki's eyes snapped back on him.

“I'll catch you at the bonfire?” Loki asked, and Thor's mouth quirked up a little.

“Sure.”

He reached up to put a stray strand of hair behind Loki's ear.

Loki's stomach dropped low. Too low.

Thor's eyes was the kind of blue Loki liked in the sky- clear and susceptible to weather changes.

They seemed to be cloudy. Like he was thinking really hard at something he didn't know if he should or could do.

The damn eyes dropped to Loki's lips.

Oh.

Plan aborted.

Too risky.

Must avoid human contact with Thor Borson.

Hypocrisy would not carry him far enough this time, not when the crush he had been ignoring so well he wasn't aware he had, was now apparently getting out of hand. And really, really, it was actually Fandral who stole Thor from him because even if he was too dense to catch on his own awe for more-than-average looking Thor and his stupid glasses and boat shoes, his friends weren't. They were supposed to know better.

Now that he thought about it, they all did catch on, and repeatedly teased him about it, including Fandral, so it was reasonable to conclude Fandral had simply decided to ignore Loki's feelings and score regardless, thus concluding Fandral was a terrible person and deserved to be cheated on.

Not in any way that involved Loki, thought. He was still pretty convinced Thor was a slut, a flirt at minimum, and he would not be running toward that when he laughed at Thor's stupid jokes in class and got lost gazing in his eyes and he apparently thought of cuddling with him after slow crazy hot sex between Loki's kitsch but very silky galaxy sheets.

He realized how hard he was staring at Thor's lips only when said lips pressed against his in the middle of the supermarket aisle and suddenly he was tasting the storm and Thor's hand was on his neck, his rings digging into Loki's soft skin.

Loki moaned and stepped closer, his tongue pushing at Thor's lips just as Thor was stepping back.

“Sif is going to kill me.” were Loki first, unplanned words.

“For being late?” Thor chuckled and pressed a butterfly kiss on Loki's lips. “Isn't that a tiny bit drastic?”

“No, not for that. I mean, for that too, but. It's more for the making out with Fandral's crush thing, act two. Or three, if you count Darcy, but she got me high before making out and I'm not really interested in girls.”

Thor didn't seem bothered by the rambling uttered between soft kisses.

“Fandral doesn't have a crush on me.”

“Aren't the two of you-” Loki licked at the corner of Thor's mouth.“Hanging out?”

“No.”

Ah, here he was, showing his casual sluttiness.

“But does Fandral know?” Loki asked, knowingly.

“Pretty sure.”

Loki squinted and squeezed on Thor's bicep just because he could.

“But you're going to the dance together.”

Something flickered in Thor's eyes.

“Ah, yes. Nebula and Val are going together and I didn't want to be the third wheel.”

“But.” Loki said, but he got caught off by another chaste kiss, long and sweet and one that would have been absolutely perfect if only Loki wasn't getting half-hard in his pants and had no more mental dams in place to keep his visions of Thor and sheets and nakedness under control.

“Okay.” he said. “I need to go.”

“Me too.”

They kissed some more.

“See you tonight?” Thor asked.

“If you bring your glasses you'll probably see me alright.” he joked.

Thor frowned a little, puffy mouth quirked up at the corners.

“I have lenses on. I'll see you either way.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just saying.”

“I'll put them on if you like them.”

Thor kissed the tip of his nose.

“I don't. They're hideous. The beard, the hair, the glasses? Too much.” he said, sincerely.

“Ah-ah.” Thor mocked him, and cupped his face with both hands and kissed him and Loki forced Thor's mouth open because he really, really couldn't help himself.

He was a man of vice.

“See you tonight.” Thor husked on his lips like he was telling it himself.

“See you tonight.”

Loki bit Thor's lower lip for good measure.

Thor had to stop him with a flat palm on his chest from jumping on him.

At least Thor laughed, and even if he was laughing at him, it was a good look.

Thor had put his glasses on. The little shit.

Loki wanted to take everything off of him but those.

He had no idea how he didn't jump him as soon as he spotted him talking with Jane Foster and Darcy near the bonfire. Apparently, he had more self-control he gave himself credit for.

Look at him, the floozy, he thought to himself. Flexing every five seconds for no discernible reason, pointing at stars in the sky, touching everyone's back, scrunching his nose as he chuckled.

And they all had no idea. Absolutely no idea he was making out in a supermarket with Loki just a few hours before.

Knowledge made him feel powerful.

“You're lucky he's so nice.” Volstagg said. “Looking at a boy like that will get you in troubles one day.”

Just as he said it, Thor turned and saw Loki, and Loki cursed Hogunn with all he had because really? He needed to come back to visit the one day Loki could get some?

“I'll correct myself. You're lucky he wants you in a horizontal position too. The rest holds true.”

Loki elbowed him and then snitched his beer from his hands, before walking up to Thor. He met him halfway.

“Hey.” he flirted, sipping at his beer, with a careful mix of I slept with you and you want it to happen again and I'm never going to sleep with you but you want to. Not that he wanted Thor to pick up either of those sentiments, but Thor seemed more intent at watching his mouth around the bottle than not his eyes or the tilt of his head.

He wanted everyone else to pick up, and to let them all go crazy doubting.

“Hey.” Thor said, and just as Loki let the bottle go with a pop, he took Loki's head in his hand and bent his neck down to kiss him.

Oh.

Well, let them all go crazy knowing Thor was off the market.

Because he was.

Probably.

Because he wanted to be. Or he wouldn't have ruined his game in front of half the school.

It made sense.

Maybe.

“What are you thinking about?” Thor laughed on his lips, and Loki curled his fingers at the small of Thor's back, raising his shirt to slip his pinkie under it and get a taste of the soft, strong fabric of Thor's back.

Thor's fuzzy short hair stood up at the touch and Loki opened his mouth with little to no decency.

Thor chuckled again and put a stop to a potentially destructive situation by inching a breath away.

Loki sneaked his whole hand under Thor's shirt and pawed at Thor's back, feeling muscles and softness and dimples.

“I think we're being disgusting.” Thor told him, a last small kiss at the corner of Loki's lips.

Loki meowed in protest, but he let Thor wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He slipped his hand in the back pocket of that hideous pair of shorts.

“I knew faking a dubious relationship with Fandral would have worked, but I didn't think it would have took so little time.” Volstagg boomed from one the logs around the bonfire.

Fandral, sitting next to him, smiled. “He must be really smitten.”

“Look at him, he's smiling. It's creepy.” Sif ordered from her spot on the sand.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked, surely not smiling anymore.

He looked up to look at Thor, who had apparently not stopped looking at him.

“Remember when I took your place in the fear lotto?”

“Yeah, but-”

“I might have mentioned I needed to win someone over.”

Loki blinked.

Than blinked again.

Fandral going grocery shopping suddenly sounded like a clear clue something was going on.

Not to mention Nebula and Valkyrie going together when Nebula was dating that weird kid with wide eyes that went around touching everyone.

And he had mentioned a couple of times how annoying it was Thor wore his uniform even on casual Fridays.

“You set me up?” he asked. “I'm impressed.”

“Yeah, well, I did wing it in the end.” Thor laughed. “We had estimated it would have took until the ball for you to show your cards.”

“You could have just asked me to the ball.”

“Would have you said yes? Just like that?” Thor questioned, his face scrunching, and Loki clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“Well. I've been- not indifferent.”

“The last time someone asked you out it was Quill.”

Oh, yeah. Quill.

Loki had been a bit not indifferent back then too, and Quill had picked something up and asked him out, and if he remembered correctly, Loki had toyed with him, rolling in his new found powers until he had got bored and said something very mean and very unnecessary.

Point taken.

Still, the Quill situation was not even close to Thor.

Mostly because this was Thor, and he smelled good, and he kissed Loki like it was the only thing in the world that mattered, and made corny jokes about stars and pulled off floral shorts, slutty tank tops and boat shoes.

And probably did not blow Malekit to get a decent grade. He did seem like he would at least be worth an above average.

He would have to investigate the matter.

“Still. I like the clandestine approach.”

“Even if I ruined it and made out with you in a supermarket?”

“Especially since you ruined it and made out with me in a supermarket. Don't go stealing my thunder in causing mischief, sir. I could become vicious.”

Thor laughed fondly and kissed him again, and Loki melted into it, and really, being a jealous bitch had payed off in the end.

“I wonder-” Hogun deep voice got to his hears as Loki nuzzled against Thor's soft jaw under the light sting of his beard. “why do I still hang out with you kids when I visit.”

#thorki #thorki fic #i really have no excuse for this #it's shameless self-indulget nonsense #*

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