Summary: In which Don, Sif and Thor negotiate some boundaries. Don/Sif(/Thor).
Spoilers: Takes place after Thor: Giant-Sized Finale.
Disclaimer: Characters, settings and concepts belong to Stan Lee, Marvel and many others; borrowed for entertainment value, not profit.
Author's Note: Previously posted anonymously in response to a prompt on the marvelkink-v2 lj meme.
Hanging out with Sif this much was... kind of weird. Even leaving aside what the people of Broxton thought about Don coming home accompanied by a woman with no ID, a very limited selection of clothing, and quite literally the body of a goddess.
It wasn't that Don didn't know her very well, but rather that he did - or Thor did. Intimately. Don tried not to blush at the memories that thought conjured up. Memories that he'd shared, that his mind thought he'd experienced... but that weren't actually his. Sif was Thor's lover, not Don Blake's.
To a certain extent, it was an issue with all of the Asgardians. Don felt like knew every one of them just as well as Thor did, and yet they didn't know him at all. If they even thought about him, it was only as an aspect of his godly other half. Thor's inconvenient mortal disability.
(He might have felt a mental flinch from Thor at that thought, but he let it pass, pretending not to notice.)
Still, the Warriors Three were easier to interact with - if only because they were, at heart, all gloriously simple souls who behaved much the same no matter who they were talking to. And also because Don had never seen any of them naked. Well, apart from Volstagg, but he was trying to repress that.
As are we all.
Hey, you didn't even have to watch it live, big guy. At least it had put the rest of the night's traumas in perspective.
Thor was silent, apparently still not fully comfortable with the topic of Don's nerve damage. But Don had been lucky, he knew: lucky to have survived the blast, lucky to have come out with an injury no worse than the limp he'd lived with most of his life before his resurrection. The way he figured it, everything you got after coming back from the dead probably counted as a bonus.
Still, lucky wasn't resigned, and he was doing his damnedest to keep up with his physical therapy, regain as much functionality as he could. Which meant that every spare peaceful moment they could snatch had to be spent on Don's recovery, not Thor's priorities.
I have few, now that I am exiled by my people.
Yeah. But some of them are right here. He smiled awkwardly at Sif, aware he'd been neglecting her while he was communing with his god. And getting his breath back. She'd taken to accompanying him on his hikes into the middle of nowhere, though he couldn't imagine his painful pace was any real cure for her restlessness. She was a goddess, meant to run and ride and fly with Thor, not be shackled to a limping mortal.
"I guess it must suck for you, being stuck with me all the time instead of Thor," he said.
"Suck?" Sif's eyebrows lifted in earnest curiosity.
Don winced a little. "Uh, that's a mortal expression that I... probably shouldn't explain the etymology behind." No, he definitely shouldn't be thinking about associations to do with sucking, or any memories involving Sif this might relate to, and- oh, God. Not you. Why did this have to be so har- difficult? Not hard. There was absolutely no kind of hardness going on here. Aargh.
...Is this not a positive sign?
It appears that your physical health is returning.
Thor, I could live without you monitoring my ability to get it up. Especially right now. This is your girlfriend I'm trying not to embarrass myself in front of.
I do not understand why displays of virility are considered embarrassing.
Beside him, Sif heaved a disconsolate sigh. "There is so much about the mortal world that is still strange to me," she said.
Don hovered, on the verge of an automatic move to put his arm around her that he wasn't sure was appropriate. "Well, it's... pretty strange to most of us too," he said with a small grin, hoping to put her at her ease.
Sif smiled at him, beautiful but with an edge of sorrow that he wanted to chase away. Maybe he should change into Thor. He started to move, but she put her hand on his arm. "You have been a great help to me in this time of confusion," she said earnestly.
Don was on the verge of blushing, the usual casual demurrals harder to make in the face of Asgardian formality. "Oh, well, I-"
He was interrupted by the touch of soft lips on his own. He froze up completely, too surprised to do anything but sit there and be very pleasantly kissed.
Don's pulse leaped in his throat as Sif drew back and delicately licked her lips. "It is strange," she said thoughtfully. "You are not the same as you once were.""
"Nng?" Don said. Um, Thor?
No answer on the personal godline, which only made him more nervous. He swallowed convulsively as Sif laid a gentle hand on his cheek. A swordswoman's hand, calloused rather than soft, but it still felt dangerously good as her thumb stroked over his skin.
"You and he used to be one and the same," she said, studying his eyes with fascination. "But now I see that you are not."
Don lowered his eyelashes, face heating. Oh. Right. He should have figured that his and Thor's previous lack of boundaries would come back to bite them.
In the past, their personalities had been tangled together. Odin's enchantment had made Thor believe that he was Don, and when Thor's memories of godhood had eventually returned, Don had always half assumed that his own lingering personality was some splintered part of Thor's that hadn't reintegrated properly. It had taken his years alone in the void to really get a grip on who he was separate from Thor.
They should have realised that not everyone else had been in on that revelation. Don rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin. "Uh, no. We, uh, kind of worked out more of a timeshare arrangement this time around. What you see is," he spread his hands, "what you get."
And what she saw right now was definitely less impressive than the mighty Thor. Who was still being ominously quiet, which Don couldn't help but find worrying. Technically Thor would have great trouble punching him in the head for kissing his girlfriend, but...
Sif's face was still far too close to his as she stared into his eyes. "And yet the one I loved before was you and he together," she said. And kissed him again. Properly this time, and he was powerless to avoid opening his mouth and his arms to accept her as she pushed him backwards.
It is well. Thor's mental voice was calm, implacable.
The guilt still fluttered in him. But-
The Lady Sif requires your attention.
The Lady Sif, currently halfway in his lap and still kissing him with great enthusiasm, was probably in no doubt that she was getting his attention. Any more attention, in fact, and the difference between mortal and Asgardian stamina was going to come out in a very embarrassing way.
He rolled them sideways to take the pressure off his bad leg - and other parts. Sif wrapped her arms around his neck, face flushed with evident arousal, but even with Thor's apparent blessing, Don still hesitated. He was all too conscious of the ways he couldn't measure up to a god, including the most literal.
He took a breath as he brushed her dark hair back from her face. "Sif, I-"
"Do you love me, Donald Blake?" she said. Not playfully, like a mortal girl teasing her lover, but with the dignified grace of a goddess addressing a worshipper.
"Yes," he said hoarsely. He and Thor weren't so separate that he couldn't feel it, twining through every thread of his being.
"Then love me," she said, pulling him to her.
And he did.
It wasn't quite a godly fit of passion suitable to grace the sagas. There was much awkward squirming for positions that wouldn't tax his leg, an annoyingly intrusive tuft of grass, and Sif's frustrated failure to get on with the fastenings of mortal clothing. There was one point where a budding leg cramp threatened to scupper things entirely.
There was also laughter, and Sif's unexpected fascination with his boxer shorts, and her delight and revelry at rediscovering every inch of her reclaimed body with the aid of his hands-on anatomy lesson.
And through it all, the warm, wordless hum of Thor's contentment wrapped around him like another embrace.
Afterwards, they lazed around half naked in the sunshine. Sif lay half sprawled across him and played with his short hair, another thing she seemed to find endlessly intriguing. For the first time in a long time, Don felt free and weightless, barely conscious of the nagging tingle from his damaged nerves.
Thor? he thought drowsily, as he was just on the verge of slipping into sleep.
No words in response, but a sense of expectant curiosity.
You can walk home.
Thor's laughter rumbled through him like the purr of a huge cat.
Don closed his eyes.