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10 September 2012 @ 09:21 pm
Span - Thor/Loki  
Title: Span
Art: Here by raafling
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~5,300
Warnings: AU, blatant Americanization, high school fic, wing!fic
Summary: Loki was born with a strange defect. Eighteen years later, they figure out what exactly it all meant.
Written for avengers_rbb

“Do you think there’s something terribly wrong?” Farbauti whispered, her hands folded tight against her lips. She peered in through the window to the nursery, her eyes locked on Loki’s tiny hands, waving in the air above his bed. “Why won’t they let us see him?”

Laufey pressed his hand against her back, firm and assured. “The doctor has said there’s an anomaly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem worried, just… confused. He said he would explain when he reached a conclusion.”

“But what if he’s sick? What if there’s something very wrong? Why aren’t they telling us what this anomaly is?”

“The fact that it’s an anomaly means they don’t know,” he said patiently, smoothing her blouse with his fingers. “When they do, they’ll tell us.”

Her fingers tightened, and she pressed them to her chin, eyes squeezed shut in prayer. “I hope they do.”

Laufey frowned, watching his son where he lay beyond the glass. He’d seemed perfectly healthy when he was born two days prior. He seemed perfectly healthy now, full-faced and rosy-cheeked, eyes wandering brightly.

He understood the need for caution. He had no desire to cause undue harm to his son by ignoring the signs that something could be wrong. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t eager and impatient to take his son home, to room in the house that would be his.

“I just want to hold him,” Farbauti said, a little crack in her voice.

Laufey pulled her in against him and held her. Loki cooed and called out from his crib.


In the end, the doctor sent him home with his parents, but only after explaining the bizarre anomaly that was the problem in the first place.

“We noticed some odd… protrusions in his back,” he explained, rubbing the knuckle of his first finger against the hook of his nose. It was the first time Laufey had ever seen a doctor look sheepish. “We did an x-ray. It seems that he has four extra bones, similar in shape to the bones in the fingers. They seem to be part of the scapulae.”

He showed them the photo of the x-ray. Loki looked so small, so fragile, with his tiny bones on the tiny picture. Protruding from his shoulder blades, like the veins on a leaf, were four small bones.

“What does this mean?” Laufey shook his head. “What – has this happened before?”

“Never to me,” the doctor admitted. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not on record somewhere. I will consult with some orthopedic specialists. They may want to see him personally, but for now, since he seems to be otherwise in perfect health, and the extra growths don’t seem to be causing him pain or harm, I’m going to send him home with you. I’ll be in touch.”


No one ever figured it out, and as Loki grew, so did the bones in his back. As a toddler, various doctors suggested surgery to remove them, but admitted to his parents that it would be an extraordinarily painful procedure, and he would carry the scars for the rest of his life. At this news, they refused.

Loki was a healthy, well-adjusted boy, fat in the thighs and cheeks, prone to mischief. He ran around the house on short legs, smiling and squealing. He got into everything: toothpaste, finger paint, and, one on extraordinary occasion, a one-pound bag of sugar. But, as much mess as he caused, and as many headaches as he gave his parents, he was sweet and affectionate, and as quick to cuddle as he was to run around.

They had no intention of causing him undue pain, especially when nobody could explain to them why they should be concerned about the extra bones. They pressed against his skin the same way his spine did, and there was otherwise no sign they were there. They didn’t affect his nervous system, or his lungs, or his ability to walk. He was an otherwise normal boy.

They couldn’t have hoped for anyone more.


He met Thor when he was fifteen years old.

He was all golden, from his hair to the knuckles on his large hands to his broad shoulders to his ankles. The sun seemed to come out just so it could shine on him.

Loki was immediately drawn to him, the way chilled people are often drawn to warm things. Thor was four months older than him and the captain of the rugby team. He could easily have been one of the (many) big guys who regularly picked on Loki, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t, because Thor didn’t have an unkind eyelash, never mind an unkind bone.

It wasn’t that Loki was without friends. He was just one of that unfortunate group of people that were easy to tease or bully, because he was intelligent, and wiry-thin, and offbeat. But he was also cheerful, and comfortable in his skin, and well-liked among his classmates.

And Thor was one of the people who liked him best. And when he told him so, Loki stared at him as if he had just offered him the world’s most expensive diamond.

“You want to… take me out on a date?” Loki said slowly, as if reminding a very slow child of what exactly he was asking.

Thor grinned at him.

They sat on a bench at the edge of the park, and the day was just a little overcast, enough to leave Thor in shadow from time to time. Loki wished he could blow away the clouds.

“Why do you find that so hard to believe?” Thor wondered, touching his knuckles to the inside of Loki’s wrist, where it lies against his thigh. “You know you’re hot, don’t you? Everyone else does.”

Loki gaped at him for a second, before regaining himself enough to scoff, looking away. “You would be the first person to tell me that,” he said, somehow managing to sound both defiant and skeptical, without the least amount of self-deprecation.

Thor stared at him for a long moment, his jaw practically unhinged in his open shock. “No one ever?”

Well, my mom, but she doesn’t really count, and she certainly didn’t use the word ‘hot.’ Loki nodded. “No one ever.”

“Huh.” Thor sat back, his elbow hooked over the back of the bench. His hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail, dirty blonde and tangled at the end, like he only took the time to run his fingers through it. “Usually, people in your position would be much more – I don’t know – shy or something, if they were hit on.”

Loki shrugged. He pulled his leg up onto the bench, picked at the rubber peeling at the tongue of his sneaker. “I don’t need validation from other people,” he said, chin lifted, eyes on Thor’s. “Just because no one has told me I’m good-looking, it doesn’t mean that I have to feel like I’m not.” Thor smiled. Loki scowled. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just – I don’t know what I expected when I talked to you. I like you even more now.”

“Well, I don’t like you,” Loki decided, even though they both knew he was lying completely. He pushed himself to his feet, hooking his backpack onto his shoulder. “And I don’t want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s okay.” Thor stood up too. “I’ll just wait until you do.”


He ended up waiting a long time, but that’s just because they got so sidetracked being best friends that it didn’t occur to Thor to ask him again.

It wasn’t until they were eighteen that they even bothered with the idea, and when it happened, Loki was almost surprised.

He was lying on Thor’s bed, his head hanging off the end of the bed, and he watched Thor move around the room upside-down. “What do you think of Sif?” he asked suddenly, smiling indulgently at the way Thor’s hips twitched in time to the Flo Rida on the radio. “She’s pretty, right? She likes you.”

“Yeah, she’s cool. We went out a couple times last year, remember? I just wasn’t really feeling it.” Thor turned away from his desk suddenly, pointing his pen at Loki, suspicious. “Why do you ask? Do you like her? Are you making sure that I wouldn’t mind if you dated her? Is that what’s happening? Because I would mind. Don’t date her.”

Loki was grinning by the end of the miniature tirade, and he rolled over onto his stomach, dropping his chin into his hand. “Why would you mind? You just said you weren’t feeling it.”

“Well, yeah, I’m obviously not feeling her,” Thor murmured, sulky, and sat down next to him. He ran his hand along Loki’s spine, pausing to finger the juts of bone under his skin that have only gotten sharper as he’s gotten leaner. “But you know how I feel about you.”

“Do I?” Loki murmured, resting his cheek against his folded hands and letting his eyes droop closed. “I’m sure I don’t know anything at all.”

“Well, that’s not okay. I did ask you out a few years ago, you know.” Thor passed his hand under his shirt, running his fingertips along the ridges of his spine. His skin was warm against Loki’s, like he had sunshine glowing just underneath it.

“A lot can change in a few years,” Loki pointed out, staying more still than strictly necessary. It wasn’t like Thor never touched him in these ways. He had always been rather physically affectionate. It suited his personality, and it only made something crackle and burn in Loki’s lungs just a little when he touched other people the same way he touched him.

“That’s true. But this hasn’t. I’ve been waiting, because I said I was going to wait until you wanted to go on a date with me.”

“How do you know I want to go out with you now?” Loki demanded, peering up at him with one eye. “You’re being very presumptuous.”

“But you’ve just told me you want to go out with me,” Thor pointed out. “You asked if I knew that Sif liked me, and you asked whether I liked her. You’ve always avoided talking to me about that stuff, because you didn’t want it to seem like you were interested.”

Loki just scowled, because that was true.

“So now you’re telling me that you are interested, because you’re not afraid to mention me dating other people. You don’t think, or maybe don’t care, that I’ll think you’re jealous or overly curious if you bring it up.” He dipped his head to press his nose against Loki’s dark hair, taking a deep breath before kissing his temple. “So now I’m going to ask you to go out with me, because I know you’re over whatever it was that kept you from wanting to go out with me before.”

Loki rolled over onto his back again, succeeding only in narrowing the distance between them. He tucked his head up against Thor’s leg, frowning up at him. “Don’t you think it would be suitable to just… skip the going-out part?” he suggested, touching his fingertips to the outside of Thor’s thumb, where his hand rested against Loki’s neck. “Because we’ve been practically dating all through high school.”

“I didn’t know that. It doesn’t count if I didn’t know. I dated other people.”

“Just because you were unfaithful doesn’t mean we weren’t a couple,” Loki said, as imperiously as he could when his hair was mussed and his head was in Thor’s lap.

“So all these years, I could have been kissing you, and I didn’t know it.”

“You just weren’t paying close enough attention.” Loki patted his wrist sympathetically. “And we could have been doing so much more than kissing.”

“Big talk for a virgin!” Thor tugged at his hair. He kicked off his sneakers and rearranged himself to lie next to Loki, shoulder to shoulder.

“Well, I don’t need to have had sex to know that I want to with you,” Loki said, and managed not to blush even a little. “I’m just saying we could have been.”

“So I’ve read you wrong all these years.”

“It appears so. Worst best friend ever.”

Thor rolled over, framing Loki’s head with his arms. He combed his fingers through Loki’s hair, pushing it back from his face. His expression was very solemn. “I’m going to be very serious right now,” he said slowly, his thumb pressed against Loki’s jaw. “I’ve been in love with you for at least two years. And – don’t make that face; it’s perfectly possible to be in love when you’re sixteen – and I just want to make sure that you know I’m serious, and that you know you’re stuck with me if this happens.”

Loki curled his fingers around Thor’s wrist, his eyebrows lowered. “I thought I was already stuck with you,” he murmured jokingly, but it was answer enough.

Thor bent his head to press their mouths together, his body heavy and warm across Loki’s. Loki rested his hands against the curve of his back, the space where his shoulder blades ended. He pulled him in closer against him, his lips parting for Thor’s tongue, a warm, slick slide against his teeth and roof of his mouth. Something low and hot and dangerously sweet curled through his belly, and he pressed his fingertips against Thor’s skin through his shirt, hoping to leave marks, indents, like a car crash.

Thor laughed into the kiss, his teeth scraping against the edges of Loki’s mouth. “You make me a complete mess, you know that. I was a very popular guy before you came along.”

“You still are,” Loki assured him, grinning a little more foolishly than he really meant to. “Don’t worry. People love you, even if you spend all of your free time with me.”

Thor shook his head, watching Loki’s red mouth. “So what does this mean, for us? Are we just – I mean…”

“Uncertainty doesn’t suit you, Thor,” Loki teased.

“Hush,” Thor nipped at his mouth. “You’re mine now. I’ve decided.”

“No, I’m mine,” Loki corrected. “But I am very willing to share.” He kissed him again, wiggling a little. “You have to get off me. You’re too heavy; you’re making my back hurt.”

Thor rolled his eyes but shifted to the side to lie next to him again. “Well, sex will be interesting, since you’re so weak.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so fat.”

“I am not fat.”

“You wish you weren’t fat.”

“Shut up.” Thor laughed, pushing his shoulder.

Loki sat up abruptly, hissing. Thor, startled, sat up too, resting his hand against Loki’s back. He shrugged him off. “Don’t,” he gasped, hanging his head and struggling to pull in deep breaths.

Thor frowned at him. “Let me look.” He pulled up Loki’s shirt before he had time to protest, and let out a low whistle. “Loki, you – I think you should see a doctor.”

Loki frowned and moved out of reach, sliding off the bed. He tugged his shirt over his head and turned to look at his back in the mirror. The ridges were more pronounced than they had ever been, red and inflamed.

Thor hopped up, peering at their reflection. “How long has it been like that?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t this morning.”

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No! No, it’s fine.” Loki pulled his shirt back on, wincing when he lifted his arms over his head. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Loki, that is not nothing. It looks like they’re… infected or something.”

“It’s probably just irritated from having to support your heavy self,” Loki joked, elbowing him. When Thor didn’t laugh, he sighed. “Look, it’ll probably be fine tomorrow. If it’s not, I’ll go, alright?”


It wasn’t fine tomorrow. It was actually worse. But Loki didn’t say anything. Loki didn’t tell his parents, and when Thor called to ask, he told him it was already getting better.

There were so many reasons that he just couldn’t go back to the hospital for this, especially since there was a change. All his life, he had had doctors prodding at him, poking at his back, shoving him in machines. He had spent so much time in hospitals and doctor’s offices and with orthopedic specialists. His mother still looked at him like a special fragile thing.

The ridges showed through his shirt now, which they never had before. When he went down to breakfast, Farbauti frowned at him, her expression thoughtful, and Loki held his breath. “You need to eat more,” she said finally. “You’re all skin and bones.”

Loki nodded, swallowing hard, and plopped down at the table, taking a piece of toast. “I’ll try.”


He managed to avoid Thor the entire day.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him. He was his best friend, and he was pretty sure he was a little in love with him. But talking to him on the phone was one thing; he couldn’t see him. But in person, there was no way he could hide this from him, especially since it was in Thor’s nature to hug him until he couldn’t breathe. Just the thought made him wince.

It had been three days, and finally, Thor had not only tracked him down, but was in the process of running at him full-tilt through the park. Loki didn’t have much choice except to turn and run in the other direction.

Thor was faster, and when he tackled him, Loki didn’t actually realize he was screaming until Thor was sitting next to him, staring at him wide-eyed, and he had stopped, leaving his ears ringing strangely in the ensuing silence. He lay on his back on the ground, too stunned by the completely unprecedented pain to try to move.

Thor touched his face, turning his head toward him. He set his jaw, and nodded once. “We’re going to the hospital.”


In the end, Thor wasn’t there when they figured out what was wrong with Loki, but his parents were.

Before the orthopedist even came in, Laufey was shouting.

“Why wouldn’t you tell us something like this?” His voice ricocheted off the white-washed walls. “We have no idea what’s wrong, Loki. You didn’t bother to share it at all! You didn’t think it would be important to tell us that those things on your back were changing? Why wouldn’t you do that?”

Loki picked at his fingernails. He was uncomfortable with how relaxed he felt being inside of a hospital. He had spent so much time here over the years that it was almost like a second home. He kept his eyes on the blue blanket covering his lap. He could feel the cool air in the room against his back, where his gown parted. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he said, his voice quiet.

“You didn’t want to worry us? How did you think we would feel to get a call from Thor telling us that our only son was in the hospital, because something was wrong and he hadn’t told us?”

“I thought it would go away on its own.”

“What made you think that, Loki?” Farbauti asked, voice gentle. She rubbed her hand over his knuckles. She shook her head. “Has this happened before?”

“Not this bad,” Loki admitted. “I mean. Once, when I played soccer, when I was thirteen? You remember, when we went to the tournament? They hurt a lot, but I thought I’d just… hurt the muscles or something. It went away after a few hours. This – I thought it might be the same sort of thing.”

Laufey was practically purple with anger at this new set of information, and Loki braced himself to be laid into again, his fingers curled tight against his legs.

He was rescued by Dr. Barton, who swung into the room with the air of a man who was used to seeing patients with anomalous extra bones in their back, like he did it every day. “Hello, Loki, how are you feeling?”

Loki smiled. He was rather fond of him; he was always kind to him and never made him feel like a freak. He was lucky enough to live in a city where a specialist on mutations was situated, and he was equally lucky that that specialist was someone as kind as Dr. Barton, who treated him both like he was fascinating and like he was a normal person. “I’d really like to know what’s wrong with me, to be honest,” he admitted. “I’ve already missed two days of school.”

“I know, and I’m doing my best. I actually think I might have a lead on your condition, so I’m doing a little extra research, contacting some colleagues of mine, and I’ll get back to you soon about it. Until then, I’m prescribing a mild pain medication for you to keep you comfortable, and if you have trouble sleeping tonight, we’ll see about a sedative.”

“Can’t we take him home?” Farbauti asked, her face crumpling. “Is it really necessary that he stay again tonight?”

“I’m afraid until I’m sure what’s going on, it would be best to keep him here under observation. I know it’s against hospital policy, but if it would make you feel more comfortable, I’d be happy to put in an order for one of you to stay here with him tonight.”


Dr. Barton came back in the morning with a bright face, practically glowing with his pride and triumph. “Good morning, Loki. I have good news.”

Loki sat up straighter. “I can go home?” he asked hopefully. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Thor in almost a week. He desperately needed to sort things out with him, to make sure they were alright, despite the lying and the hiding and the major avoidance. It didn’t seem fair that this happened right after they finally figured it out and got together.

“Maybe in the evening,” Dr. Barton winked at him. “But, for now, we have a pretty good idea of what’s happening to you. You have an extraordinarily rare genetic condition, colloquially known as God’s Blessing.”

Loki’s eyebrows drew together. His mother’s hand tightened around his wrist. “What does that mean?” she asked, voice strained. “Why is it called that?”

“Because, essentially, those who - for lack of a better word - suffer from it grow… wings,” Dr. Barton said. His tone was that of a skeptic who had found reason to believe. “And after studying the skeletal structures of some bats and birds, it appears likely that you have it, especially with the way these bones seem to be forming.”

“But…don’t birds and bats have wings when they’re born?” Loki asked slowly, shaking his head. Why he wasn’t more stunned by this, he wasn’t sure. “Why – I mean, how can they just… grow?”

“That’s the thing: we don’t know. It’s a complete anomaly. Yes, I know, you hear that word a lot, but we do know that those who grow wings seem to be otherwise perfectly healthy.”

Loki felt something stirring in his throat. It felt like hysteria. “And – what do these wings look like? Will I be able to hide them?”

Dr. Barton shrugged. “It’s hard to be sure. Some wings form very small and are mostly unnoticeable. Some have been known to be massive. Most people who grow those have them surgically removed, but that can lead to scarring. The condition is becoming increasingly well-known in medical communities, though there have been many more cases in Asia than here, which is why it didn’t occur to me that this was a possibility.”

“You said it was genetic. How can it be genetic if neither his mother nor I have anyone in our family that this has happened to?” Laufey frowned at him, clearly skeptical.

“It can be a very distant relation, a great-great-great-aunt or –uncle maybe,” Dr. Barton explained. “A man in Istanbul who was affected had a known relative with the same condition who was separated from him by six generations.”

“How fast will the wings grow, now that they’ve started?” Loki asked.

“They’ll most likely be fully grown within the week. Now Loki, it’s going to be an extraordinarily painful process. Your bones will literally be growing and shifting at an alarming rate. Think of it like growing pains, magnified by a thousand. It might be best if you can stay here in the hospital. We’ll put you in a private room, with a bed and a desk and a TV, and you can have anything brought to you that you need. And I’d like to study you, if that’s alright.”

“That’s fine, yeah. Um. Will it just be… bone?”

“Usually they’re layered in skin and muscle, like the rest of your bones. Some have had a light layer of hair on them. One woman had feathers.”


Dr. Barton grinned, shrugged sheepishly. “Apparently, humans and birds are more closely related than evolutionists have previously believed.”

Farbauti looked at Loki silently, like he was something special and sacred and terrifying. “What would you like me to bring you from home?”


“This room is really nice, considering it’s in a hospital,” Thor commented, wandering around it. He knocked lightly on the desk near the window, looking anywhere but at Loki. “There must be something really wrong with you, I suppose, if they’re putting you up like this.”

“It’s not… wrong, per se,” Loki offered weakly. He sat cross-legged on his bed. He was in a t-shirt and jeans now, the hospital gown for the moment forsaken for the sake of some semblance of privacy. “It’s – I’m special, I guess. I have a very rare condition.”

“They’ve been telling you that your whole life,” Thor countered, casting a glance in his direction. “Do they know what it is now?”

“Yes.” Thor met his gaze and held it. Loki smiled. “I’m growing wings.”
Thor stared at him for a moment longer, then scoffed. “Be serious, Loki. There could be something really wrong.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Loki insisted. He reached over to take the informational packet from the nightstand. He tossed it at the end of the bed for Thor to pick up. “It’s called ‘God’s Blessing’ or something equally ridiculous. I’m one of seventeen known cases in the history of recorded medicine.”

Thor flipped through the pages, his eyes growing wide with each photograph and x-ray. “But – people don’t grow wings.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“So – what – you’re an angel?”

“We both know that’s not true.”

Thor smiled despite himself. He set the folder down on the desk and came to sit next to Loki. “Can I see?”

“They look gross right now, all pink and naked.”

“I still want to see.”

Loki glared at him, but in the end, took off his shirt, shifting around to put his back to Thor and ducking his head. Thor didn’t say anything at first, just looked. Then his fingers: pressing lightly around the edges of the sharp protrusions. In just two days, they have grown almost to the size of Loki’s hand, and the vague itch and sting has become a full-blown ache.

“Will you keep them?” Thor asked finally. “The information said some people have them removed.”

Loki shrugged. “It depends on how big they get, I suppose. I guess people of Turkish descent are most prone to them, so I could always move there, if they got too ridiculous and I didn’t want to have the surgery. I hear Istanbul’s really beautiful.”

“They might be really beautiful.” Thor paused. “I’d go with you to Istanbul.”

“Thor, you talk like we’re married.”

“Aren’t we?” He grinned, and it was like none of it had ever happened.

Loki swallowed. “I liked kissing you, and I want to continue doing that.”

“Loki, I promise you’re the best-looking mutant I’ve ever seen.”

“How many mutants have you seen?”

“Admittedly, not many. But I stand by my statement.”

Loki laughed, and all was well.


Because Loki’s luck had a very specific nature, at a week, he had the same wingspan as an eagle, and at a week and a half, his wings were long enough that he couldn’t fully extend them inside his hospital room. And of course, as soon as they were fully grown, or what he assumed to be fully grown, he began sprouting thick, black feathers.

Beyond that, he hadn’t been able to see Thor for the majority of the growth, since the pain returned fiercely, and he spent much of the week either wailing with pain or doped on medication. He was unable to sleep on his back, which was frustrating, and made it very difficult to sleep at all, since even rolling over was a production.

When he was finally able to go home, he was very carefully directed through the hospital and out into an ambulance, since his wings wouldn’t let him fit into a car. So now, he was sitting on his bed, with his door locked, wings folded around him. He hadn’t even bothered with a shirt; he would have to cut holes in all of them anyway. He was lonely, and dismayed, and he had no idea what he was going to do.

He knew Thor was at the house when he heard pounding footsteps on the stairs, and knew even better when he all but slammed into the door with the intention of opening it, only to find it locked. He cursed on the other side, and knocked sharply. “Loki? I got your text. I want to see you. Open up.”

Loki spread his wings, and he stepped off the bed, doing his best not to overbalance from the added weight of his wings. His shoulders and back ached from carrying them, and he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it.

He unlocked the door and stepped back. When Thor opened the door, he inhaled once and never seemed to release it. Loki’s wings quivered.

“Holy hell,” Thor laughed breathlessly. “You have wings, Loki.” He stepped forward, reached out, then immediately withdrew his hand. “May I?” Loki nodded, biting his lip, and Thor moved closer, carefully running his palm over the arch of his wing, his fingers curling and ruffling the feathers. “What does it feel like?”

“They’re very sensitive,” Loki murmured, his eyes sliding closed. The touch was warm and light. “It doesn’t hurt, or anything. It’s like new skin – it is new skin, I guess – like after you skin your knee.”

“They’re beautiful,” Thor said, shaking his head incredulously. He moved in to press their mouths together, cupping his face between his hands. “I want you to keep them.”

Loki gripped his elbows, keeping him close. “I just – they’re so big. How can I possibly make it work? I couldn’t hide them.”

“We could still move to Istanbul.”

“That was a joke, Thor.”

“I know. But I’ll miss them, if you have the surgery.”

“I think I will too.”

Thor kissed him again. “Get undressed,” he urged gently, stepping away to lock the door. “I want to see how you look.”

Loki blushed, but did as asked, and Thor followed suit. They settled on his bed, Loki in Thor’s lap, their kisses slow, Loki’s hands settled against Thor’s shoulders. Thor pressed his mouth against Loki’s jaw. “You know, if you decide to have them removed, you’ll have scars.”

His stomach swooped out of him. He’d seen the straight, shiny lines on the backs of those who had the surgery. “I know,” he said quietly.

Thor nudged him with his nose, and Loki met his eyes. “I’ll love even your scars.”

raaflingraafling on September 11th, 2012 12:04 pm (UTC)
Daaww, it's so sweet! Thank you so much! I love it. ^^
Elizabethbananahater336 on September 17th, 2012 03:24 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you like it! <3
korilian: Lokikorilian on September 14th, 2012 08:51 pm (UTC)
I love how you took such an outrageous premise and played it absolutely straight. You really made me believe in this crazy world where some people just grow wings.
Elizabethbananahater336 on September 17th, 2012 03:35 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I was writing it and just thinking, "... This is actually ridiculous. What am I doing?"