GHOLY FUCK uhhhh lemme see, Thor likes to pretend that Loki’s his sister and likes for Loki to dress up as a girl…a slave girl…i guess.
[…I didn’t think this one would end up as long as it did. LOL DESCRIPTION PORN.]
“There’s no need, if you don’t want to,” Thor mumbles sheepishly. ”I only thought…”
Loki laughs from the other side of the curtain. ”Did you truly believe I would be offended by the suggestion?” he asks. Thor watches his silhouette through the translucent fabric, the warm sunlight outlining his brother’s lithe form, all sharp angles and graceful lines as he drapes himself in something long and flowing. Hypnotic. He wonders if Loki knows he is watching. ”I am always glad to know more of your…interests, brother.”
“Weaknesses, more like,” says Thor under his breath, his face burning.
“How unusually perceptive of you.” He can hear the smile in Loki’s voice, devious and slick and beautiful. ”Shall I keep this body, or would you like me to, ah, change into a more typical shape?”
Thor blinks. He hadn’t even thought about that. Loki could, couldn’t he? Often does, now that Thor reflects on it—slipping between configurations as it pleases him, male to female to everything in between, and Thor wonders if his brother really is his brother, or if his sex is something more inscrutable.
Loki’s silhouette pauses, as he laces something behind his back. ”Well?” he prompts.
“Keep it,” Thor says quickly. Loki makes a little hmm sound, and there is something in it that tells Thor he has just damned himself even further. Somehow.
“As you wish,” says Loki idly.
“I like you better as a man,” Thor adds; then backpedals as Loki’s silhouette pauses again and tips its head patronizingly at him, “Not that I do not enjoy you in any shape, of course, I only mean—you look well in women’s clothing, without actually being a—” He stops, scratches at his jawline. ”What I mean to say is—”
“There is no good way to say what you mean to say, Thor,” Loki interrupts, a mocking laugh held back behind the words. Thor falls silent, folding his hands between his knees. It’s hardly his fault he is not as skilled with words as Loki is, nor that Loki is so prickly about compliments. If Loki would only take what he says at face value, they would not have these problems. But no, Loki insists on assigning layers of meaning to everything, every clumsy word Thor strings together, as though Thor were even capable of such verbal dances.
Loki gives him far too much credit, really, though if Thor were to tell him so he would laugh.
A slim, black-nailed hand draws the curtain aside.
“How is this?” says Loki, sweeping his other hand along his body.
The fabric is dark, shimmering green, dark as a rainforest’s canopy, embellished around the edges with thin curls of gold embroidery, making his skin pale as milk in contrast—and so much skin, his long legs bared by the slits up either side of the skirt, his lean arms bared to the shoulder by the drape of the silk around his neck (he looks so thin when clothed, but with his limbs naked like this Thor can see how strong he truly is, all whipcord muscle cleaving tight to prominent bones, though Loki would sneer if Thor ever told him this). A bright gold belt rests slung across his slim hips, a chain wrapped double around him, its end hanging loose down the front from its emerald clasp. Gold bangles decorate his ankles and wrists, their thickness emphasizing how slender the joints themselves are, how delicate his hands and feet look. His lips are painted dark, gleaming faintly as familiar mischief curves their corners upward, and his bright, bright eyes are lined with black that makes them seem so large and jewel-toned they might as well be emeralds set into his face.
For a moment, Thor forgets how to think.
Loki gazes expectantly at him, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. His (bright, bright, so bright) eyes flick down, then back up, his mouth twisting further in amusement.
“Have I turned you to stone, brother?” he asks.
“Ngh,” Thor replies.
Loki bursts out laughing at him. He is still laughing as Thor throws himself at his brother, bearing him to the floor.
Tagged with #nekoconsulting #thorki #hey look i wrote a thing #nsfw #tumblr prompt fic