Chapter - 43

The first time Thor really spoke about his brother with Jane, he was about to leave for London to see his play. She wanted to know why he wished to go by himself, and he more or less offered her a heavily purged version of their common history, Loki's and his. He admitted he had hopes of talking to him, but that he didn't really know how, or if Loki would even want to see him at all. He admitted Loki had been on his mind for a long time. He confessed it was Loki he was often struggling with when he wouldn't tell her what was wrong.

"Why wouldn't you tell me that?" She had been puzzled.

He could not answer.

Overall, she had reacted as if she had been given the key to the kingdom, in the shape of a piece of his true mind. She encouraged him to do all he could to get to him and "straighten things out with Loki."

"I just want to see him do well," Thor had said.

How the fuck was he managing to feel more like a liar now than every time he had answered "nothing" when she had asked "what's wrong", Thor did't have a clue. It seemed, when it came to Loki, that all Thor could do was fuck up.

She said goodbye at the airport and wished him good luck. She looked a bit desperate. Desperate for Thor to sort himself out, he guessed, and come home having achieved closure and balance and peace, and let himself have a life with her, once and for all.

___________

(The present. The day after The Rocky Horror Show.)

"Mr. Laufeyson to see you, sir," said the disembodied voice on the phone.

Thor blanked out.

The voice of the concierge repeated the announcement, a bit louder this time.

"Let him up," answered Thor, mouth dry.

His room was on the third floor. The lift was parsimoniously slow. Thor paced like a caged panther while he waited.

A knock at the door. Thor's heart jumped. His hands were shaking when he opened.

There he was, Loki Laufeyson, the fucking rock star, in his furs and make-up, his hair up in a messy bun, nails obsidian black. He was outrageously beautiful.

"May I come in?" he said.

Thor's insides turned upside down. It was the sound of Loki's voice, so familiar, not projected from the stomach to fill an entire theatre, but soft, quiet even, intimate.

Thor had no words. He pushed the door open for his brother, and moved aside. Loki walked in slowly, cautiously.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Thor had found his words. His voice came out darker than usual with nerves.

"What have you got up here? I don't want to have to call room service." Loki sounded subdued, muffled.

"The works," said Thor.

"Fizzy water," said Loki. "Please."

Thor got him a bottle and a glass from the minibar. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Loki unbuttoning his coat, but keeping it on, like armour, long arms wrapped around himself. He wore black jeans and motorist boots underneath, and a black, chunky knit jumper with a cosy collar he seemed to be trying to hide in, skittish as a cat in a new place.

Thor checked his own hand. It was still shaking. He got himself a beer.

"Here," he said, leaving Loki's drink on the coffee table rather than handing it over. He did it gently, as if he was afraid Loki would be startled by the noise. "Don't you want to sit down?"

Loki took a quick look around and he chose the armchair. Thor took the couch. He couldn't get his eyes off Loki's pale, angular features. There were new marks on his skin, around his eyes, across his forehead, faint but there. His face was sharper. He'd been on the cusp of reaching adulthood when they'd last seen each other. Now he was an adult. No baby fat left. Still young of course, but with the suppleness of young skin just starting to show signs of weariness.

There was a silence, uncomfortable as all fuck. Both were trying to think of what to say, or how to say it, or trying to find the voice to say it with.

(They'd been almost telepathic with each other, once.)

"Did you enjoy the show?" said Loki at last.

"Very much," said Thor, with expansive relief. "I don't remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much. You were… you were incredible. Really. Amazing. I'm… I'm lost for words."

"Eloquence was never your strong suit," jabbed Loki, no hardness to it. His eyes fixed on his hands, clenched on his lap.

A moment later, with a tiny, tight grin, and what sounded like plain sincerity, "I'm flattered. Thank you."

Thor nodded; try as he might, he couldn't think of what else to say.

"I never thanked you in person for preserving the apartment and all my things," said Loki. "It didn't then, but it means a lot now. Thank you."

Thor nodded, dumb again, emotion clawing at his throat. Every reply that came to mind was soaked in sentiment, in a way he was not sure Loki would appreciate. He opted for keeping it simple and to the point.

"You're welcome."

Loki had still to look him in the eye.

"I hear you're living with an astrophysicist these days," he said, his tone even and unaffected. If anything, a bit shy.

Thor nodded, but the subject seemed to him so utterly poisoned and hazardous, he couldn't think of anything to say that could not blow everything up.

"What do you two actually talk about?" mocked Loki. With no real malice. "Or is it not your conversation she is into."

Thor laughed. It was a big chuckle, bursting with nervousness.

Hearing it, Loki's eyes had brightened up. Oh, baby, Thor sighed, crumbling inside. God help me.

Thor harrumphed, sipping at his beer. He finally had something.

"I hear you're living with a girl," he said.

For the first time, Loki looked up, and met his eyes. Thor felt as if he was being calibrated, the cogs and wheels of Loki's brain whirring, pondering what answer to give.

"It's not like that," was what Loki settled on at last. "She's a good friend. She keeps me right." His voice so soft, so light. No snark, no hurt, no horrible sadness simmering underneath it. His speech was subdued, but his stare was as piercing as ever.

Thor nodded. And it was really none of his business, but…

"What about this Brad bloke," he asked.

"What about him."

"I hear rumours."

"All true, I'm sure," smiled Loki, demure. "You know me. Believe everything you hear."

Thor nodded again. He'd take that non-answer. He really had no right to ask.

"It's good to see you doing so well," Thor said, catching himself just before he called him 'brother'. He had no idea how that would go down, what with Loki's change of surname and everything. He realised once more, with a sinking feeling, that he really didn't know him that well at all, not anymore.

"How is… Odin," asked Loki.

"Keeping busy, I'm sure you've heard. When he is working, he is fine. At home… struggling. Without mum… I managed to make him accept some help around the house but… Anyway. You know dad."

Loki nodded, his eyes low, his eyelashes long.

"He… he talks about you, sometimes" added Thor.

Loki raised his eyes for a flick, pulling that little crooked grin that had always made Thor's pulse speed up.

"I suppose I don't want to know," Loki said.

"No, I think you would like to hear this, actually," he said, and he hoped the warmth in his eyes spoke his meaning.

But he wouldn't speak of it now. Only if Loki ever asked.

A silence.

"How was… the funeral," asked Loki, a painful wince in his brow.

Thor took a deep breath.

"It was beautiful. There were so many people. I mean, from the business, and royals, and politicians, and the works, but lots of normal people too. She was loved by so many. I still have people come to me on the street to tell me how much she meant to them, and that she touched their lives. She would have liked it."

Thor had not asked out loud, but the question must have been blatant enough on his face that Loki answered it just the same.

"I was in hospital," said Loki, his voice thinning by the second. "They did not know my real name. I was disconnected in there. Nobody told me. When I heard I…" Loki's eyes pinched shut for a moment, with a sudden ache. "I couldn't handle it. I wasn't fit to go to the funeral. I wanted to go. I… I'm sorry." His back and shoulders were slumped, as if he was trying to become smaller.

Thor shook his head, but he couldn't talk at first. He was desperate to crush him in his arms and wipe that guilt away somehow. He could not, he had been uninvited a long time ago.

"I know, Loki," he tried. "She knew it too."

Loki's face tensed, about to break out in tears. He stood up and rushed to the bathroom. Thor heard the water running.

After a few minutes, Loki came back, face rubbed clean, his pale skin flushed where he had scrubbed it. There you are, thought Thor.

Loki kept his eyes low. He started to button up his coat.

"I have to go," he said, producing a pair of sunglasses from the depths of those huge patch pockets.

No...

Thor nodded. He didn't get up. He fucking couldn't. Don't go. In his head, he was begging on his knees.

Loki strode purposely to the door, but as he walked passed him, he slowed down and stopped. Suddenly, his hand was on Thor's chest, a desperate touch, a stroke so full of need, it had claws in it. Thor stopped breathing. He latched onto his brother's hand, and clung on tight. Neither was looking at the other. Thor closed his eyes, and for a second the whole world was reduced to Loki's hand in his.

Loki started to pull away. For a second, Thor refused to let go.

No!

Loki insisted, Thor released him.

Loki stopped by the door. Thor, with his back to him, could see his brother's ghostly reflection in the windows. He was putting on his sunglasses.

"Tell your astrophysicist I said hi," said Loki.

The door clicked shut behind him.

"Did you get closure?" Jane said. Her kind, hazel eyes, so compassionate, now had an edge of impatience that had not been there before.

"Closure?" said Thor.

"Yes. Did you manage to sort things out between the two of you?"

Thor was exhausted, and irritated, and full of a terrible, cruel contempt.

It wasn't fair on her of course. She did not know. How could she know? He had never told her. He never told her anything. How could she ever begin to understand?

"I don't know," he said, tiredly. "I don't know."