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thorkidumpster · 7 years

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soooooooooo @raven-brings-light mentioned she liked fake relationship au! so i got excited and wanted to show you what i’m working on :D it’s your basic ‘thor lies to his parents about having a relationship to get out of family stuff and now it’s biting him in the ass’. it’s... gotten so long and still not even a quarter done. rip. nothing fancy, but here we gooooo

“Birthday party?” Loki scoffs, not even bothering to lower his voice in the crowded coffee shop. “Why would I want to go celebrate another year of that mouth-breathing, jackass jock who has a constant case of public indecency?”

“Because you jerk it to him every night,” Amora points out. “And follow him everywhere. And you like his tight shirts. Mm... I like those tight shirts.”

“You're gross,” he informs her, despite the frustrating fact she is completely correct. Loki maybe—sometimes—occasionally trailed Thor to the quad. Or the track. Or the gym...

Especially the gym. There is nothing like a good hate work out, staring as Thor lifted weights until his stupidly perfect muscles glisten with sweat that Loki kind of wanted to lick. Just a little. Right down to that abnormal sized bulge that had to be a sock stuffed into his shorts because there was just no way—

Amora stirs her drink. “Earth to Loki.”

“I wasn't thinking about Thor,” Loki says automatically.

“Of course you weren't.” She gives him an annoyingly smug smirk. “So. Party? Probably going to be a rager.”

Loki taps his fingers on the table. “And watch him fuck the entire volleyball team? No, thank you.”

Amora just smiles.

[read more cut here, mobile users]

– – –

Loki went.

No surprises there when his batshit crazy best friend from hell showed up at his dorm, kicked out his roommate, and cast some sort of spell to get him dressed. And by “spell”, Loki means, “screamed like a fucking banshee about letting opportunity slip from his fingers”.

So really, he put on his clothes out of self preservation.

And because she threatened to lock him outside in his boxers.

Pay back is going to be a bitch.

Loki pulls up outside Thor's house an hour after the party started—best time to arrive, when everyone's well on their way to drunk and the awkward introductions are out of the way. Late enough that the birthday boy's going to have his eyes on some pussy, early enough that he hasn't gotten into it yet.

But Loki doesn't get out of his car immediately. The driveway's fairly empty, with only two (now three) cars slotted into the four car space. The lights are on, but not strobing and not in every room. And most damning of all—the house was quiet. No music, no shouting, no one throwing up on the lawn.

Huh.

He knows he has the right address; not because he's creepy and certainly not because he might've—probably—maybe followed Thor home once by accident.

Anyway.

Clearly, Amora had gotten bad information.

Loki jabs his keys back into the ignition, but before he can crank up the engine, the front door opens and a nicely dressed woman steps out. “Excuse me!” she calls and Loki's heart stops. Great. Just fucking great. He's going to get reamed for pulling up to Mrs. Rich Lady's driveway. Excuses pop up, and in a split second, he settles on acting like a stupid out-of-towner. Oh, where's the Walmart? Har har har...

Goddammit.

The woman is breathless by the time she toddles down the insanely long walk up, not to even mention her heels, Jesus. What is it with old women and heels?

“Excuse me!” She says again and Loki obediently rolls down the window.

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Please don't be shy,” the woman laughs. “Come on out, I know who you are.”

When he freezes, she gives him a 'disappointed mom' look. Her eyes are astoundingly blue, clear and bright despite the fine wrinkles cradling them. Like a bolt, Loki realizes this is Thor's mother, which, really, it should have been obvious but Loki blames Amora for not recognizing her. Not that it's Amora's fault, per se, but Loki just likes kicking shit over to her.

Wincing, Loki steps out of his car. “You do?” he hedges, sure he's going to get a lecture in stalking. Possibly a lawsuit. Wouldn't be the first time—

Any-fucking-way.

“Of course! You're Thor's little boyfriend, aren't you? He keeps bringing you up—every time he wants to get out of something, don't think I haven't noticed date nights cropping up conveniently over family dinners.”

“Um.” Loki falters. “...sorry?”

“I'm Frigga,” she says, matter of fact. “Not that I know your name, mind. Thor was very insistent. He seems to be laboring under the impression that I would contact my old team to do a background check on you.” Frigga pauses, then smiles blindingly. “He's right, of course. So. Name, please.”

Loki's mouth falls open. His name tumbles out before he can think to give her another, like Luke or Lucas, and really, that is a betrayal of the highest order. His dad once said that he should sew up his mouth to keep it from getting him into trouble and right now, Loki's apt to agree.

“Loki... Lafton? Hm.” Frigga gives him a considering look. “Well, come on in, dear. You're a little late, of course, but I kept the boys out of the food until you arrived. It's only polite...”

Stupefied, Loki follows her up the walk way to the massive house. The lawn is manicured to the point of being anal, and there are strategically placed flowering bushes along the outside walls in even rows. It's... weird. Loki thinks back to his family manor and shudders.

Well, at least if he manages to fuck this up, his dad could get him out of the hot water. What good was having a lawyer for a father if he couldn't?

At the very least, he's got an evening of free food and acting ahead of him. Loki slips into the role of 'dutiful son' like a worn pair of jeans.

The foyer is gorgeous, of course, and tastefully decorated; his own mother would be seething in jealousy, no doubt—ah, no, there's a scuff mark on the floor moulding. That little imperfection would have Farbauti crowing for days.

And everyone's so surprised when they find out how much of a bitch Loki can be. Really.

“Thor!” Frigga calls as they enter the sitting room. “Your boyfriend is here!”

It's beautiful. Truly. All the stars and sunrises and baby-fucking-animals couldn't compare to the look of horror on Thor's perfect face. “My what?”

“Loki, go on and sit down, I'll get the dinner served.”

Thor stares at Loki, mouth open. “Loki?”

Loki gives him a sugary smile. “Of course, sweetheart. Wow, that smells amazing, ma'am.” Smooth as a snake, Loki slides onto the couch next the Thor, making sure their thighs are pressed together, despite there being a good meter of space left to stretch out.

Thor can't seem to figure out how to work his mouth—words are beyond him, but, Loki notes with pleasure, his eyes are certainly taking in their fill. Thank god Loki had decided to 'dress up' for the jockstrap party, as a way of standing out and pissing everyone off.

With a wink, Loki rolls up the sleeves to his tidy blazer. He turns his attention to the gruff man across from them, glaring at Loki with a single, mistrustful eye. “And you must be his father.” Loki offers a hand.

The man grabs it, squeezes hard in a dominance display, but Loki just returns it until Thor's father pulls back. “Odin,” the man says. “And yes. Who are you again?”

Loki is about to give a lazy reply when Thor's brain reboots and he kicks online. “Loki,” Thor interjects. “My boyfriend. We met at school.”

“Hmph.” Odin looks about as happy at that as someone that was told they needed to clean out a pipe clogged with shit barehanded. “And what does he study?” he demands.

Demands to Thor, of course, when he could've easily directed the question to Loki. Idly, Loki wonders if the old man is upset at Thor for dating boys, or if it's something about him in particular that's rising the hackles.

“Not law, like his father, clearly,” Odin continues.

Loki's brows shoot up; Thor just looks away... embarrassed?

Odin is clearly riling himself up to say more when Frigga clatters in. “Boys! Dinner!” she calls, merry as a bluebird. Odin hefts himself out of his armchair, a once fit man gone very much to seed. But just as Loki starts to rise, Thor snatches him by the elbow and stands, too.

Thor, so close, looms in a way that makes Loki's gay little heart flutter. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses. In the dining room, Frigga is chattering to Odin about the food and his heart.

Loki leans in close, close enough to feel Thor's breath on his lips. Thor jerks, but doesn't move away—which is good; it'll just look like they're sharing a private moment if Frigga pops back in. Which they are, in a way.

Just not the way she'll think.

“Believe it or not,” Loki says silkily, “I was every bit surprised by this as you were. I was lead to believe there would be a party here; your mom cornered me before I could pull out of the drive.”

From this angle, Loki can't see Thor's face, but he can tell Thor's trying to modulate his breathing, fist getting tight on his elbow. Getting upset, is he? Cute.

“Of course,” Loki continues. “I could leave now. No... I could stage a fight. Would you like that, big boy?” Their lips are centimeters apart. Christ—his dick is pounding, his blood thrums in his veins, and Loki is living.

“No,” Thor grunts. He's so fucking big; that grip is really starting to hurt in the best of ways. “We'll figure this out later. For now, you'll stay. You'll play nice.”

“That costs extra.”

There's the sharp crack of Frigga's heels, then Thor's kissing him, searing, as if to force the promise from Loki's lips. “Boys—oh!”

Thor steps back, giving Loki a predatory smirk that leaves him a little weak in the knees. Or maybe that was the porno kiss. Or both. “Sorry, mom.”

“Now, now,” she chides. “It's time for dinner. Come along now, you two.”

If Thor has to actually support Loki with a hand on his lower back, pressing to get him to move, it's not Loki's fault. It's Thor's. Fuck him.

#thorki #thor #loki #my writing #fic preview #tbc #eventually lmao

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