a/n: Here we are. Suffering a small amount of writer's block. I'm also supposed to be writing an essay and it's late ar night. I probably should be doing some homework as well. But...eh. It's only my senior year and I only need to pass to graduate. No big deal. I've got my priorites right.


Loki has a red mouth and hair that is swept around his cheekbones and catches the sharp but delicate features of his face, his eyes giving off what is almost a feminine seductiveness, so Balder used to tell himself that it was this that caused his heart to race, and his face to heat up whenever he was around him. Perhaps it'd been a sort of confusion about the boy's mascuinity that had first drawn him to him. Or perhaps, it was merely something that was destined to happen.

Either way, Balder dreaded what his father-or, worse yet, his brother would think of such perverse thoughts.


Thor's friends are gathered around him when Balder enters the room, and as they turn to look at him, he feels that all-too familiar feeling of awkwardness he gets whenever he encounters them. The three of them-Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral, are all warriors, experienced in battle and though they don't directly state it, see him as a sort of runt-Thor's kid brother, not to be taken too seriously, only worth notice because of his brother's noteriety and thus deserving the bare minimum of attention and recognition. It's embarassing, and awkward and he'd do anything to avoid these moments when the air in the room thickens and they give him the mildly amused looks they would give children that are trying to impress them. And yet-if Balder is perfectly honest with himself, these are the only things he has that are close to friends, hand-me-downs though they are, and so he bears with them.

His brother is in the middle of one of his many tales of battle, this one being a more recent anecdote, and a particularly thrilling and brutal one about his latest trip with Father.

Thor gestures with his hands, demonstrating an especially violent killing he performed on one of the Jotunn clan rebels that apparently involved breaking his neck and had something to do with a burning torch in a not too-pleasant place.

There has always been the smallest bit of resentment and envy between he and Thor-though he looks up to his brother and admires him more than anything, he has always felt that Father has always favored and loved him more. And the fact that, Balder is not yet old enough to go into battle and earn his own glories and esteem the way his brother has, that he isn't too much talented with the sword in any case, doesn't soften his father's look on him.

Thor is everything that Balder wishes he was-confident, adventurous, and-if the rumours are true-quite the talent in bed. Just last night.(Balder himself has yet to so much as touch lips with a woman. Or otherwise.)

They are all laughing and having a jolly old time and Balder is feeling significantly out of place, when the subject at hand suddenly turns to sex.

"So do the rumours of you and the Lady Sif have any validity?" Fandral inqurires and his Volstagg's face lights up mischeviously. Hogun gives a sigh that clearly indicates that he finds the conversation childish.

Thor gives a smirk at that. "They had validity long ago my friend, but I'm afraid things quite dull after she stopped being able to walk for two days."

Deep grunts of laughter fill the room, and Balder blushes, giving a glance at his feet.

Volstagg spies this. "Ah, young Balder and have you found yourself indulging in any of the young maidens that scurry around your household?"

Before he answers, Thor gives an abrupt laugh. "You will find little of interest in him, Volstagg. My brother prefers spending his time with the horses and servant boys, than in the company of a a warm body."

Balder knows his brother is joking, and yet there is something in his eyes that unnerves him. It bothers him, and for a second, he finds that there is nothing that he can say to that. Nothing he can say, that will silence the condescending smirks that give him, and the overpowering shame and embarassment that comes with it.


His normally pale skin is flushed against the light, his mouth slightly agape, but still he tries to muffle any noise, putting his mouth to his wrist, and biting down, his eyes only half open. The heat consumes him as he thrusts in and out, and his green eyes swallow him, devouring him until he is lost in it, and he buries his face into his neck, licking the indention there, and the one beneath him finally releases a suppressed moan, rutting against him, his soft, hands gripping his hair.

A sheen of sweat covers their bodies, and the only sound in the room is of their soft moans and the occassional yelp of pleasure.

Finally, time stands still, and white comes crashing around them.

Loki is breathless as he looks at him, a content and loving smile on his face.

Balder... he breathes, and for a moment, he discovers what it means to be happy.

Balder awakens with a jolt, his pants stained and rapidly cooling, his body sticky and overwarm.

He looks out at the moon, solid and inconstant, and ever, relatably, alone.

a/n:Yeah, I have no idea why I'm so fucking boring. I suck. Sorry. but, this is what moved me, and I hope I'm getting the characterizations right, and I hopesez you enjoys. :)