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Thor kisses the taut skin of Loki's belly. It's soft and tender. Loki complains when he does that, he says his beard irritates him. Loki doesn't complain when Thor kisses his lips, hard and bruising, hands holding his face put. And at least, Thor thinks, it shuts him up.
Loki often comes to Thor when he's heavy with child. Not Thor's, of course, it's never his. Loki wouldn't give him the pleasure of having something of his loved and cared for by him. But he knows Thor won't push him away.
"Come now, brother," Loki says, and the word is so cruel on his lips. He spits it out to mock him. Thor doesn't want to hear more so he attacks Loki's neck, bites gently around his Adam's apple and not so gently at the point that connects his neck- that long, graceful thing- and his shoulder. Loki's cry is very soft, but it's there.
His fingers slide down the rest of Loki's body, down peaked nipples and flat chest, to that full, round stomach and narrow hips. He dips between his legs, where warmth and wetness gathered. He strokes the cunt once, in a smooth motion, from bottom to top. Loki's breathe catches.
"How long are you due?"
And he releases. "Two, maybe three moons."
There is no point in asking who the father is. Loki won't tell. He'd just smirk his infuriating smirk and not ask what would you do if I told you?
Maybe it's for the best.
Loki is now lying on his side, and Thor could take him like that. It's comfortable enough. But he doesn't want to. He turn Loki on his back, spread his legs, takes a good, commemorating look at the male and female features that mix and entangle all over his body. It's a beatiful sight he doesn't get to see as often as he would like to.
"Thor," Loki is impatient. Thor can see the muscles around his clit clench and unclench, desperate for any kind of friction, for touch. He bends down and swipes at it with his tongue, prods him with his fingers, he wants to imprint the taste and smell and image of it into his mind. Loki whines. It's not enough. Thor's hand then reaches down to his own hard cock, squeezing it once. He yearns for the warmth Loki's body offers at times like this, so different than the cold skin and cold voice and cold glares he usually gets.
But Loki's skin is burning when he enters him, his thighs hot and sleek with sweat and arousal, and Loki moans and Thor moans too, because he's surrounded by soft, wet tightness that he loves so much. He wishes to bend down and kiss Loki's lips but he can't, because of the baby between them. He pretends, if only in his head, that it is his, that Loki doesn't deny his love, if not return it with his own.
A hit on his back returns his attention. His thrusts are slow and gentle, and Loki can't stand it.
He picks up Loki's legs and let them rest on his torso, so he can bend down and drive in deeper, harder, faster. More and more and more. He's harsh and he doesn't hold back, and one minute Loki's mouth is open when he breathes are ripped harshly from him as he's taken over by pleasure and the other he raises his arms defensively and tries to swat at Thor.
"Not so rough! No, stop, brother, please!" and when Loki isn't spitting the word like venom he's begging, fully intending to squeeze that part in his soul that is so very sentimental. Thor won't relent, not this time. His rhythm doesn't stop and his hand moves down, to Loki's swollen clit. He attacks it mercilessly. Loki is still mumbling incoherent pleas, his arm still up, but he's not pushing away, he's drawing him in. Even Loki doesn't know what he wants anymore.
And when he's pushed over the edge, when he reaches his peak, he's beautiful. Biting his lip to suppress a scream, his toes curl against Thor's chest, his whole body flushed so hotly. Thor watches the dazed look on his face, the small, shuddering sigh that leaves his lips when he comes down, and the orgasm catches on to him, too, as Loki directs a surprisingly soft look to him. He rides it out with a few, shallow thrusts before he calms. He is careful when he pulls his now soft member from Loki's body, and slumps on the bed besides his brother to catch his breath.
Loki curls on his side, his back to Thor, arms defensively around his belly. For a moment, there a glow of green light and not a noise but their pants in the heavy air.
"You're lucky," Loki finally hisses. The baby is fine, he doesn't say.
Thor looks at him, still out of breath. Being with Loki might do this to him at times.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"A boy," Loki says without hesitation. "A small, dark, sharp and quick baby boy."
I know what you want, he doesn't say. This baby is nothing like you.
He's so cruel, that brother of his, Thor thinks. And in the morning, he won't be here anymore.
And that thought ails him the most.