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"Know you, brother," Thor murmurs into Loki's hair, "the ache I feel when we are parted?"
Loki's lips twitch into a mocking curve. "Indeed. Just, here-, I'd wager." A silver dagger spins from nothing into his palm, and he drives it behind him, the blade stopping short of Thor's chest, angled upwards toward his heart.
Thor does not move, nor does his expression change overmuch.
"But no." Loki turns slowly to face Thor, his eyes poisonous green. The dagger evaporates with a lazy roll of his hand. "Here lies the greatest agony," he drawls, his other palm cupping Thor through his breeches.
Thor's intake of breath brings a wider stretch to Loki's mouth and he squeezes, feeling how hard and ready his brother is already. "Yeesss..." A graceful curve of his fingers and the dagger is back, this time the point pressing just under Thor's jaw. "Tell me, Thor Odinson. Speak to me your tale of woe. The depths of your torment."
The heel of Loki's hand is making tiny circles against Thor's cock even as he presses the knife more firmly into his brother's flushed skin.
Thor swallows, held fast, his lips parted with quickened breath. "And if I do?"
Teeth now glitter in Loki's smile. "Tell of it properly and your brother may see fit to grant you redress for such pains." The knife slides lightly towards the column of Thor's throat, the keen edge cold and deadly. "If I judge your words not prettily chosen, I may end your suffering in a different fashion."
Thor swallows again, against the blade's edge, his expression wavering. His lips purse suddenly as he fights down a smile.
Loki tilts his head, eyes narrowing. He leans in to Thor, murmurs in a furious undertone, "By the Norn, if you laugh and spoil this for me, I will cut off your balls and choke you with them."
A momentary grin splits Thor's face, but he battles it back with a cough. "Of course. My humblest apologies."
Loki drops his hands from Thor and steps away, spinning the dagger in a shimmering arc until it snaps out of existence. "That's it. You've ruined it. You ridiculous oaf."
A hearty laugh breaks free of Thor's throat and he reaches out toward Loki. "Come now."
"No. No, it's ruined." Loki waves his hands for emphasis. "I had a whole thing planned. I was going to prick you with the dagger and lick the blood off your skin. You would have had to kiss my boots and crawl before I let you fuck me. It would have been brilliant."
"Loki. You can still-"
"No. Because now you'll be expecting it." He swings about, his robes whirling dramatically, his brow crumpled in irritation.
Thor lifts his hand to cradle Loki's pale cheek, thumb caressing slowly. "I'm sorry," he says, most of the laughter gone from his eyes. "Truly. I did not mean to spoil your plans."
The shape of Loki's lips gradually softens, fondness finding its home there. He pulls his brother close, fingers twisted into the back of his hair. His voice is low. "Honestly. Can you not keep a smile off your face for more than five minutes? It's embarrassing."
Thor bends to him, resting their noses together. "Not when you are with me, my love."
"Liar."
"No."
"...Fine, then. You're a sentimental idiot."
"Yes."
"..."
"..."
"So, kiss me, Idiot. You've been away too long."
"Yes."