Not Æsir (5,842 words) by LokiOfSassgaard

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Thor (Movies), Thor (Comics)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Relationships: Fandral/Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)/Other(s)
Characters: Fandral (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)

Summary: Loki thinks that maybe if he can keep Fandral happy, he’ll stick around. And if he sticks around Loki will be happy.

Or, Loki is so eager to please that he does not notice that he might be getting neglected.


Loki suddenly felt very uncomfortable.  He couldn’t remember when, exactly, Fandral had moved up to join him on the sofa, but there he was.  Loki recalled the disappointment and curiosity on Fandral’s face out on the terrace, and the way he had touched him just before that.

He tried very, very hard not to think about how much he enjoyed being touched like that, even if it had scared him.  He completely ignored the fact that no maiden ever touched him like that, and likely never would.

“Fandral,” Loki said, doing a quick count of empty bottles.  He had out-paced Fandral at a rate of nearly four to one, and began strongly doubting that his friend was actually drunk enough to be to the falling asleep and drooling stage.

“Hmm?” Fandral shifted against Loki in a way that wasn’t exactly the way one did when trying to get comfortable.

Loki knew he wasn’t the only one on Asgard to fare poorly with the maidens.  For all he’d seen Fandral try to work his charm, and for all he seemed to know what he was doing, he never seemed to make it beyond sharing quiet secrets.  In fact, Loki had never seen him so much as even steal a kiss.

Could it have been that for all his show, Fandral intended to fail?

“This is… I’m not…” Loki couldn’t say it.  He knew what he should have said, but he couldn’t form the words.  It felt like both a lie and a truth all at once, and Loki didn’t know which one he feared more.

“Of course you’re not,” Fandral agreed.  “You’d have to be Æsir first, and we all know you’re not.”

Loki rolled his eyes, knowing that was one more thing he could never hope to live down.  How had Fandral even heard about that?

“All the same,” he said, knowing he should shove Fandral off him, but not wanting to be alone again.

He was too hot, and he knew it was not from the amount he’d had to drink.   Fandral was not leaning against him because he was falling asleep against Loki’s side.   His hand had found a place on Loki’s thigh to linger, and he couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t think this is right,” Loki said finally.

Fandral sighed deeply.  “Do you wish for me to leave, my lord?” he asked, forcing the formality.

“No,” Loki said quickly.  “I just… I don’t think this is right.”

Fandral moved his hand in a way that was entirely intentional.  “Since when have you ever cared about what’s right?”

Loki closed his eyes tightly at his touch and leaned his head back to face the ceiling.  “Is this a trick?” he asked, ignoring the sudden heat in the room.

“No,” Fandral said, sounding considerably less sleepy than he had only moments before.

Loki ignored his response.

“If this is a trick,” he said stiffly, “I will make sure you regret it for as long as you live.”

Part of him wished it was, so he could brain Fandral without feeling guilty, or without feeling like he was going to miss out on something important and amazing if he did.

“Then it’s a good thing this isn’t a trick,” Fandral said.

“I don’t know…” What?  How?  Why?  Any one of them could have finished the sentence, and Loki wasn’t sure which was the more important one.  He looked back at Fandral, having never felt so nervous and out of place in his life.

Fandral only smiled and moved to put his face closer to Loki’s.

“Then I suppose I shall have to show you,” he said, closing the gap.

Loki couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t be a complete lie.  He said nothing at all, even as Fandral dropped the last shred of pretense and moved his hand where Loki knew it was going.  He had touched himself, as all boys did, but the sensation was wholly different under another’s hand.  Loki’s entire body tensed as he felt himself rise to the touch.  Everything about the situation was wrong, and while Loki’s mind screamed at him to put a stop to it, his body betrayed him.  Fandral stroked him through his breeches, leaning his entire weight against Loki’s side.  With his arm trapped between them, Loki felt like he might still be able to put a stop to it.  And then he watched Fandral begin to unlace his breeches, and instead of putting a stop to it Loki shifted to free his arm and allow their bodies to get that much closer.  Unsure what to do, he let his hand fall across Fandral’s back.  He did not take his eyes from Fandral’s hand even as his laces were completely undone and his cock exposed.  With Fandral’s hand directly on him, teasing foreskin and smearing slick across the head, Loki lost all desire to stop whatever this was.  He clenched his fist around Fandral’s tunic and closed his eyes, letting himself sink into a senstation that was familiar and wholly new all at once.  

Fandral stroked him and teased, paying more attention to Loki’s face than to what he was doing with his fingers.  With him pressed up against Loki’s side, their faces were close, and for a moment Loki thought Fandral might try to kiss him.  Loki didn’t know if he wanted that, but was still oddly confused that it wasn’t happening.  He thought about trying it himself, but could not bring himself to make that move.  Instead, he sat stiffly against Fandral, holding onto his tunic and biting his lip, trying not to allow any sounds that might alert someone to their actions.  There was no one near by who could have even heard, but the thought that they could be caught at any moment sent a thrill though Loki that he couldn’t quite clamp down on.  He arched his back, rolling his hips into Fandral’s touch, and suddenly everything changed in an instant.  Instead of teasing, Fandral began stroking him in earnest, and it was too much.  He arched even further, barely aware of Fandral moving beside him, twisting his body to free up his other hand.  He spilled quickly, unable to stop the startled cry that burst from him.  Still breathing heavily, he looked over to Fandral, finding his other hand down the front of his own breeches, lazily stroking himself as well.

Loki didn’t know at all what to say, and just blinked at him in heavy confusion.  He still didn’t know why Fandral was doing this, but he did not exactly wish to question it too far either.

“I told you it’s not that difficult,” Fandral said with a wicked smirk.

Loki nodded, still feeling a bit stupid over what had just happened.

“Do you want to use your hand or your mouth?” Fandral asked.

Loki didn’t immediately understand what Fandral meant, until noticing him still stroking himself.  He was expected to return the favour.  Feeling stupid for an entirely different reason, Loki shrugged.

“Which do you prefer?” he asked.

Fandral shifted away from him, opening himself up as he leaned back into the sofa.  “I prefer the mouth,” Fandral said, pulling himself free from his breeches.

Loki felt more stupid and out of his depth by the second.  He had no idea what he was supposed to even do, even as he shifted to better face Fandral.  Finding it suddenly difficult to breathe, he moved to all fours, leaning over Fandral as he continued to stroke himself.  Loki had become thoroughly convinced that he would never bed someone who was with him willingly.  He still was not entirely certain why Fandral was doing this, but he found himself very eager to please all the same.

“Tell me how,” he said.

“You can lick it.  Suck on it,” Fandral said, moving his hand away.  “No teeth.”

Nodding, Loki licked his lips and tried not to feel like he was going to vibrate out of his skin.  Seeing no way to ease himself into it, he lowered himself and took as much of Fandral’s cock into his mouth as he could without feeling like he was going to choke on in.  Above him, Fandral hummed and leaned further into the sofa, apparently liking whatever it was Loki was doing.  He could taste the salty slick on the back of his tongue, and was surprised when he felt himself begin to stir again.  He had expected to find the act vulgar and unpleasant, but was surprised to find that he liked the taste.  He liked the noises Fandral made above him, and when he felt Fandral’s hand on his head, fingers tangling with his hair, Loki found himself leaning into the touch.  He tried to suck and use his tongue, but could not figure out how to do both at once without choking.

Hard once again, he shifted to hold his weight on one elbow while he moved to stroke himself as he tried to get more of those sounds out of Fandral.  He tried to find a rhythm in tandem, moving his hand the same time he would lick or suck, but he couldn’t find a good rhythm to begin with.

Then Fandral’s grip tightened in his hair, nearly pulling, and Loki forgot all about trying to keep a rhythm.  Fandral had done it for him, forcing Loki’s head to move up and down as he rutted into his mouth.  It was so sudden and quick, and Loki tried to fight against him to slow down.  Twice, he nearly gagged on Fandral’s cock hiting his throat, but he allowed Loki to set the pace before it happened a third time.  But now he knew what Fandral wanted and tried to mimic it, moving his head up and down to stroke Fandral’s length with his entire mouth.

He’d get better at it.  Next time, he wouldn’t choke.  The thought of a next time excited Loki even furher, and he spilled quickly into his own hand.  Again, Fandral tightened his grip in Loki’s hair, not trying to hide his noises at all he spilled his seed all over Loki’s tongue.  Loki managed to pull away quickly, coughing and gagging and not sure what to do.  He hadn’t anticipated the inevitable conclusion, and resolved to figure out how to avoid that next time as well.

When he looked back up, he found Fandral smiling lazily.  He wasn’t repulsed or disgusted.  And for some reason, that surprised Loki.

There was indeed a next time.  And a time after that.  And again.  And Loki quickly learned that the things Fandral liked to have done to him were not the same things he liked to do.  He would only ever touch Loki with his hand.  Never his mouth, even though it’s what he preferred Loki to do to him.  He never allowed Loki to steal even the most chaste of kisses without harsh admonishment, even in the privacy of Loki’s chambers.

Still, Loki knew no one else would ever allow him these moments, so he accepted it.  He got by on his own hand while he sucked Fandral’s cock, and got good at doing it.  They would always drink first, and Loki learned to hold back so he had a bit more control over himself.

When Fandral sprawled out on the bed, instead of the sofa, Loki followed him, not entirely sure what had prompted the change.  He lay down beside Fandral, because that was allowed.  He was allowed to press their bodies together, skin on skin with their tunics tossed on the floor.

Loki was startled by a further change in the script when Fandral sat up and lazily craweled over his legs.  Though there was little room for complaint as Fandral began pawing at his laces.  But he stopped there, not giving Loki the satsifaction of even the slightest touch as his cock was freed from its constraints.

“What?” Loki asked.  

He hadn’t felt stupid with these matters for a while, but suddenly that feeling was back.  Like there was something vital he was missing.

“I want to do something else,” Fandral said.  “Different.”

He looked around the room as Loki watched him in confusion.  

“What something else?” he asked.

“Have you any oil?” Fandral asked.

Loki suddenly understood.  He was not entirely blind to these things, and knew at once what Fandral meant to do to him.  And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted it.

“What kind?” he asked, almost hoping he might have the wrong sort.

“I think any would do,” Fandral said, looking back down at him.  

Loki could see something hungry about the way he stared, dragging his gaze over Loki’s bare chest.  Finding himself suddenly very eager to please, he gave in and pointed toward the shelves along the far wall where he kept odds and ends for magic spells he never got around to perfecting.

“There’s some linseed on the shelf,” Loki said.

Fandral got up, leaving Loki alone and exposed on the bed.  He watched as Fandral found the jar and brought it back to the bed, once again crawling over him.  This time instead of straddling him, Fandral put himself between Loki’s legs.  He seemed unsure about what he was doing, only making Loki less sure about the whole thing in turn.  Then, Fandral leaned forward, pressing himself against Loki’s body as he reached to put the jar on the stand beside the bed.  Fandral’s cock pressed up against Loki was enough of a reminder of what they were doing, and without being able to stop himself, Loki rolled his his into Fandral.  He had sometimes wondered what it might be like to press up against one another like that, and even with their breeches between them, it was too good to stop.

But stop it did as Fandral sat back up.  He drew his hands down Loki’s thighs, his touch barely felt through the leather Loki wore.  Then, he moved back up to finish fumbling with the laces open Loki’s breeches, and began pulling them down over his legs.  Loki lifted his hips to help, finding himself completely naked and exposed beneath Fandral.  He was scared and excited all at once, and barely knew what to do next.

“It might be easier if you rolled over,” Fandral said suddnely.

Loki supposed it made sense, if Fandral meant to do what Loki thought he did.  It wasn’t what he wanted at all, but he rolled over all the same, lying flat on his belly and trapping his cock beneath him.  Then, Fandral’s hands were on him again, dragging down his back in ways he rarely liked to touch.  Loki let his head fall against the pillow beneath him, taking every ounce Fandral was willing to give.  Then his touch was gone again, and Fandral was shifting.  Loki twisted to look over his shoulder at him, seeing him remove his own breeches.  Suddenly, they were both completely naked, and there was no going back.  Taking a deep breath, Loki settled back down against the bed, trying not to let his nerves get in the way.

When Fandral pressed himself over Loki again, with his exposed cock against Loki’s ass, those nerves began to be replaced with thrill.  Even as Fandral grabbed the jar again, he rutted against Loki, and Loki arched into it.  He was about to be used in the most primal of ways, and it was all Loki wanted in that moment.

Even as Fandral rutted up against him, he shifted, and Loki could feel the cool oil dripping over his skin, down his ass and between his thighs.  He wasn’t sure what he expected next, and still Fandral’s cock against his hole took him by surprise.  He tensed, arching away from the sudden intrusion without even meaning to.  Behind him, Fandral knocked his knees against the inside of Loki’s thighs, spreading them further.  And then his hands were on Loki’s back, pressing him into the mattress as he forced his cock inside.

It hurt.  It hurt worse than Loki had ever imagined.  He pressed his face into his pillow and cried out, but he didn’t do anything to stop it.  Fandral wanted this, and no one else would.  And pleasing Fandral always kept him coming back.  Coming back, despite what Loki was.  

And then Fandral was inside him, fully sheathed, and they were both trembling.  Wanting to want it as much as Fandral did, Loki took as deep of a breath as he could.  He focused on Fandral’s hands on his shoulders, holding him down beneath his weight.  And then Fandral moved again, and it wasn’t as bad that time.  It still hurt, but the hurt was subsiding.  Fandral moved slowly, pressing his cock into him and pulling it back out again with merciful restraint, and with each motion, the pain gave way just a bit more.  A bit less pain, a bit more pleasure until Loki did start to want it.  Until the noises he made weren’t of strained agony, but unabashed pleasure.  As Fandral rutted against him, Loki pressed his cock against the bed, trying to find any pleasure he could there.  He wished he could reach it, but his position pinned beneah Fandral made it impossible.  He wanted to get up onto his knees to gain better access, but then Fandral’s body would not be pressed up against his.  

As Fandral ruttted against him, Loki managed to shift beneath him enough to change the angle.  Suddenly, Fandral’s cock inside him hit a different spot entirely, and Loki saw white.  He shouted as again and again and again, Fandra’s cock hit a spot Loki had not even previously known existed within him.  Loki rutted against the bed as Fandral used and abused him, and soon spilled all over the furs he lay upon.  But he didn’t care.  Fandral was still inside of him and on top of him, and he was not stopping.  By the time he spilled his own seed, Loki was a trembling wreck beneath him, feeling like every small touch on his skin was an explosion.  Then, Fandral rolled off, leaving him sticky and exposed and trembling by himself.  If he could ever remember how his muscles worked, Loki knew he would definitely want to do that again.

“You should be seen with more maidens,” Fandral said.

Loki lay sprawled out on the bed, knowing that their evening of drink was not going to go any further.  Fandral was in a mood, and had clearly come only to drink.

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Because people like to talk,” Fandral said, pointedly not looking at him.  “You aren’t Æsir; nobody will care.  But I am.  Æsir and a coward’s son to boot.  I’d never survive being found out.”

“Right,” Loki said, staring up at the ceiling.  “You do know that by not being Æsir, nobody wants to be seen in the same room as me, right?”

“You should at least try,” Fandral said.  “It might even improve your image, for all you know.  Bed one if you can bring yourself to stomach it, and maybe they’ll start throwing themselves at you.”

Loki snorting, knowing that wasn’t true.

But for weeks, Fandral’s words echoed in Loki’s ears.  Being a son of Odin didn’t count for much at all when he was a stolen Jötunn thrall, dressed in gold and fine leather and fooling no one for it.  But Fandral had a point.  A point Loki could not help but ignore.  So, he at least tried.  He made an effort, because Fandral wanted him to, and Loki wanted to keep Fandral happy.

He knew Fandral intentionally failed.  He would occasionally take some young girl back to his chambers, and pay her with gold and wine to say they had spent the night together, but could never quite manage to work up the nerve to do the deed itself.

But Loki didn’t want to fail.  And Fandral had told him to try to bed someone, so that’s precisely what he set out to do.  He began spending evenings at banquet or at the mead hall, putting on a very public display of being ignored and rejected.  He kept his hair washed so frequently it felt like straw, and could only be tamed by pulling it into a tail.  He even took the black out of his nails, to rid himself of that one more reminder that he didn’t belong.

And still he was met with cold shoulders and rejection.  He was fooling no one, and soon, he stopped trying at all.

Until a late Spring festival brought good fortune.  Jarls and heroes came to the palace from not just Asgard, but other realms as well.  And suddenly, banquet and the mead hall were full of people who only knew Loki as a prince, and nothing more.  The rumours and scorn within the court had not spread to the farther reaches of the kingdom, and Loki suddenly had hope.

Still, he was surprised when he was able to get and hold the attention of one of the visitors.  She was a jarl’s daughter, and had been brought along to join one of Asgard’s elite training circles.  Several years older than Loki, Leita was coy and indirect, but not skittish or nervous like many of the maidens Loki’s own age.  Though it would have been a lie if Loki had claimed to have the first clue as to what he was doing, and he would not have known one way or another if Leita’s double speak came from experience.

And yet, she followed him to his chambers all the same.  He sat back on the bed, watching as she inspected some of the small treasures he’d brought back from clandestine travels to Midgard.  This was that point, Loki knew, that Fandral would usually pay the girl off and retire elsewhere.  Often to Loki’s own chambers.  But Loki had no intention of doing any such thing.  As she returned, Loki pulled her close, and could feel her tension across her entire body.  Some uncertainty that Loki thought he understood as well.  Taking a gamble as he looked up at her, his knees on either side of her as she stood between his legs, he spoke words he knew could ruin the entire thing.

“I must confess, this is rather new to me,” he said.

Leita pursed her lips against something that almost seemed like a laugh.  “Princes and palaces are rather new to me, so I suppose that puts us on even ground,” she said.

Loki moved back toward the centre of the bed, inviting Leita to follow.  And to his surprise, she did.  He had only experience of being used and held down by someone who still consistently bested him in the ring, and had no idea where to start if he was expected to take the lead.  Then she straddled him, and this was familiar territory, in its own way.  This, he knew well.  He looked up at her as his hands found her waist, scared and nervous and excited all a once.  And then she kissed him, which Fandral never allowed, and something broke in him.  He kissed her back, pulling her close against his body as his cock instantly responded, already growing hard and greedy.  She rode him like that for a while, separated by leather and linen as he tried to figure out what the hel he was doing with his mouth.

Then she pulled away with a strange, almost smug look about her.  “Norns, you really are new to this,” she said.

He realised then she was taking some perverse pleasure in that; in being the first to bed one of Odin’s eldest sons.  She writhed against him as they kissed, moving his hands where she wanted them, and he let her.  She pulled his tunic free of his breeches, allowing her to put her hands on his bare chest, and Loki leaned into it.  She wore nothing but a simple shift beneath her dress, and when Loki pulled it up to her hip and felt the skin of her bare ass beneath his fingers, he pulled her close, pressing his cock against her with on his breeches between them.  He barely noticed at all that her hands had left his chest until he felt them unlacing his breeches.  She pulled his cock free and stroked it only once with her hand before pulling away again.

And then, before he was able to catch up with what she was doing, she was riding him with his cock buried deep inside her.  He gasped at the suddenness of it, holding her tight around her waist as she moved on top of him.  She wanted him for all the wrong reasons, and he didn’t care.  He tried to move along with her, but his head swam with the overwhelming sensation of all of it.  Her hands moved down his chest, up to his neck, nails tracing lines along him as she went.  She kissed him, and nipped at his neck and his ears, each new thing drawing another wave of exciement.  When she found one of his nipples and pinched it between her fingers, Loki cried out, pulling her close against him again as he arched into her.  She did it again, and it was almost too much.  She did it a third time, and it was too much.  He spilled inside her, crying out at the shock of it.  Then, he looked up at her and realised that she was still not done with him.

“You’re going to need to lick that out,” she said, still moving on top of him even as his entire body wanted to stop.

“What?” he asked.

Then he realised.  He’d spilled inside her.  He was inexperienced, but he wasn’t stupid.  He knew what that meant.

Leita rolled off of him, and holding him by the shoulders, brought him down with her as she lay on her back.  She kissed him again, and he let himself be distracted by it.  But he knew what she’d meant, and what she was waiting for.  When he broke away, he took his time moving down her body, until he was between her legs.  He stopped completely when he caught sight of her cunt, wet and used, dripping with both their fluids.  He realised, inches away from her, that he had never seen a woman like this before, unclothed and eager for him.  And suddenly he wanted to know what it tasted like.  He licked first, doing exactly as she said, drawing a line straight up her opening as she moved against him.  She’d clearly liked it, so he did it again.  Her hand fell to his shoulder, and Loki suddenly knew exactly what he wanted.  He took her hand and moved it to his head, hoping she’d pull his hair.  She did, and Loki moaned into her, wanting to find every way he could touch her.  She had said to lick it out, so he pressed his tongune inside her, penetrating her as deep as he could go.  With her free hand, Leita took Loki’s hand from her stomach, and moved it where she wanted, pressing his fingers against the fleshy nub at the top of her cunt.  She moved his hand, rubbing herself with his fingers exactly how she wanted.  He copied her, even as she pulled her fingers away, taking the sounds she made above him to mean he was doing something right.  He only stopped when he was struck by an idea, and moved his mouth to lick and suck that part of her, while he explored her insides with his fingers.  She arched into him, pressing herself against his mouth as she moved and writhed.  He listened to her noises, panting loudly and at an increasingly higher pitch, as she alternated between pulling his hair and pushing him closer.  With one final cry, her entire body tensed and arched into him, and then she collapsed back onto the bed, panting heavily.  

He sat up, rocking back on his heels to watch as her beasts heaved as she struggled to catch her breath.  The only problem was he was once again hard, and just watching was doing nothing for him.  He climbed over her, watching and waiting for her to tell him no.  Instead, she pulled him down to kiss her, which was all the encouragement he needed.  Loki tried to find his way back inside her, but even with his hand, he struggled to find the right spot.  She reached between them, taking his cock into her hand and guiding him in.  On top of her, it was a wholly different experience.  He moved against her, finding it difficult to keep a rhythm and kiss her at the same time.  He also found it surprisingly tiring, yet was compelled to keep going.  Leita moved beneath him, angling herself and wrapping her legs around his hips.  With one hand beneath his tunic, her other found his hair again and pulled hard, drawing a surprised shout from him.  She used her legs to push him into a rhythm, and one tug of his hair was all it took to send him back over that edge.  He tried to pull away before he could spill inside her again, but she held him with her legs, and as he panted against her skin, he realised he didn’t have the energy to care.

“You are going to break a lot of hearts,” she said softly, drawing her hand over his head where she had just moments earlier pulled his hair.

He could feel her shift beneath him as she dropped her legs back to the bed, and he obediently rolled off, landing on his back beside her.  Looking over at her, smiling lightly from just inches away, he briefly wondered what in the hel Fandral’s problem was.

Loki watched Fandral from the other end of the table, flirting with some general’s daughter.  He had different ways of going about it, and Loki had memorised all of the scripts.  He watched as Fandral invaded the girl’s space, made rude suggestions, and eventually moved his hand from her waist to her ass.  Shocked and offended, the girl slapped him hard across the face and stormed off, leaving him confused and alone.

He barely waited for the girl to be out of sight before getting up to join Loki at what had become their usual end of the table.

“I have liberated a few bottles of Vanir mead,” Loki said, looking up with unveiled intent.

“I hear that stuff goes bad,” Fandral said.  “You have to drink it right away.”

The two made quick tracks up to Loki’s chambers, finding themselves on the bed with a bottle of mead each.  Loki leaned against the wall, watching Fandral drink.  The mead was strong, and he only got through about half the bottle before his hands started to wander to Loki’s body.  Setting his own bottle aside, Loki leaned back and accepted it, soaking up every scrap of attention Fandral gave him.  Loki could already tell Fandral wanted to rut that night, and slid down onto his back to allow himself to be climbed upon.  Half the time, Fandral wanted Loki on his stomach or all fours.  But if he was deep enough into his cups, he would take Loki on his back, which was what he was hoping for that night.  He spread his legs, inviting Fandral in, and arching into the cock pressed against him.  Eager for more, Loki sat up just enough to take off his shirt, baring his chest in a silent plea for more.  

“Touch me,” Loki said when his bait wasn’t taken.

He didn’t dare try to kiss Fandral, knowing it would only put an abrupt end to their night.  But Fandral did at least touch, though not in all the ways Loki had learned he liked.  He never touched Loki’s chest, keeping his hands to his wiast and hips.  But rutting with their breeches still on, Loki craved more.  He loosened his laces and began to stroke himself, which Fandral took as an entirely different invitation, stripping Loki entirely without warning.  He was sloppy with the oil, and entered him without the preparation Loki had learned on his own was necessary.  Still, he took the pain because it was all he would get.  Visitors came and went, but none within the court would have anything to do with him.

Fandral held him tightly by the hips and rutted into him, lost in his own want.  Loki wanted to touch him, and hold him, but he didn’t dare.  At best, he’d be slapped away.  At worst, it would stop everything.  So he stroked himself instead, moving in time with Fandral until his own want was all he could think about.  He spilled across his own stomach, still riding that wave as Fandral came to his own climax and collapsed against him, a heavy weight holding Loki down against the mattress.  With Fandral panting heavily against his neck, Loki dared to reach up and draw his fingers across the muscle of Fandral’s shoulders, wishing he were allowed to touch more often.

Fandral never locked his door unless he was out or Loki was with him, and that was how Loki found it.  Locked.  Fandral was likely still off in some corner somewhere, playing up his carefully-maintained image by recalling his battle with the fearsome dragon to a small group of girls.  Loki would simply wait for him to return.

He unlocked the door easily enough and had barely stepped inside when he heard several startled cries somewhere in the dark.  Startled himself, Loki cast a dim light into the room and immediately wished he hadn’t.  Fandral quickly sat up in bed while someone else quickly leapt from the covers and darted across the room.  Loki couldn’t see the other boy’s face properly — just a mop of shaggy, dark hair — but didn’t need to see it to know what he’d walked in on.

“What?” Loki demanded, not sure if he should be angry or sick.  He thought he might be both.

“Get out!” Fandral shouted desperately to Loki.

Loki obliged, if only because he didn’t know what else to do.  He slammed the door behind him, mind racing.  After a moment, he realised that no one was going to follow him out the room.  He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it though.  Standing outside Fandral’s rooms, trying not to think about what was going on inside them, Loki could only wonder if he had interpreted the situation right.

But what other interpretation would there have been?

Why had Fandral done that?  No.  That wasn’t the right question at all.  Loki already knew he was undesirable, and had for some time.  The real question was why he hadn’t seen Fandral’s true intentions sooner.

Because he was clearly blind and only seeing what he wanted to see.