Chapter 1: Got Caught
Chapter Text
Loki came to slowly, dragging himself out of a wave of dizziness, only to realize he’d been fixed to a wall—arms and legs spread, pulled wide open into a perfect “X.”
No lights were on. Neon from the street spilled through the window, washing the room in smeared orange, blood-red, and deep shadow.
This has to be a damn dream, Loki thought.
Just a day ago he’d been scheduling his next tennis match with coworkers… browsing a brightly lit supermarket to stock his new apartment… he could still remember the color of the lettering on a flyer by the entrance.
But everything after that—blurred into fog.
“Awake?”
A soft, almost friendly voice drifted from the doorway.
A broad-shouldered man stepped inside, holding something Loki couldn’t quite see—soft, flexible, something that bent easily in his hand.
The man looked at Loki with an unnerving calm, so peaceful it was terrifying.
“Why… why did you kidnap me? Where am I?”
Loki’s voice cracked from dehydration. Fear—cold, crawling, unfamiliar—was wrapped tight around his ribs, choking the strength out of his question and making him sound almost guilty.
The blond man in front of him didn’t look like someone who would drag a stranger out of a supermarket parking lot, knock him out, and tie him up like this.
In fact, right now he was smiling—bright, radiant, almost cheerful.
“Loki,” he said, as if greeting an old friend,
“you don’t remember a damn thing, do you?”
Chapter 2: The Kidnapping Begins
Chapter Text
One and a half years earlier.
Thor, Asgard University’s star defensive lineman, had just finished one hell of a game. After a quick celebration with teammates, he wandered into the locker room.
The match had been brutal—opponents aggressive from the opening whistle, their own running back unstable the whole damn game. Winning at all was a miracle…
Lost in replaying every second, Thor didn’t even notice he’d been standing in front of his locker for ten minutes.
Bzzzt—
His phone vibrated, snapping him out of his trance.
A text.
Unknown sender.
Only a few words:
“You’ve been chosen.”
Then—white-hot pain split through his skull.
As he collapsed, Thor glimpsed a man in a black suit, calmly adjusting the metal fasteners on his gloves.
Then—
Nothing.
Darkness.
“Awake?”
A smooth, cultured voice arrived with a very uncultured splash of freezing water, dragging Thor back to consciousness. He was tied to a chair.
The man in front of him was the same one he’d seen before passing out. Except now he wasn’t in a suit—only a black dress shirt with sleeves rolled clean to the forearms. On his face: a playful, unsettling smile.
Thor barely registered the smile. His eyes scanned the room—empty except for the two of them. His arms were tied behind the chair. His instincts kicked in; he fought the ropes with raw strength and glared at the stranger.
“Who the hell are you? What do you want?!”
Maybe a football player’s physique wasn’t ideal for kidnapping victims—Thor’s struggling knocked a screw loose from the chair. A couple more minutes and he’d probably break the whole thing apart.
The black-haired man sighed, stepped forward, and slammed something blunt against Thor’s skull again.
By dusk, Thor came back around.
This time, he was no longer in a chair.
He was bound to a massive steel frame bolted to the wall—wrists and ankles locked in metal cuffs, a wide leather strap across his waist and another at his neck.
The waist strap wasn’t the problem.
The one on his throat made breathing a goddamn chore.
The man stood by the window, organizing tools—metal scraping metal, the sound grating against Thor’s nerves. He seemed oblivious to Thor’s awakening, humming a tune as if preparing a Sunday craft project.
Last time Thor made a fuss, he got knocked out instantly. If he said something stupid now… would he get killed? Thor’s mind raced. The man didn’t look like a murderer, but he sure as hell looked like something worse—maybe an artistic kind of sadist…
Just as the thought formed, the man picked up a knife, turned sharply, and locked eyes with Thor—eyes glowing strangely red in the dim light.
Even someone as tough as Thor felt cold sweat break across his skin. The man’s pupils weren’t snake-thin, but they carried the quiet hunger of something that liked watching things struggle.
“Sir—anything, anything you want, just don’t kill me, please—”
Thor blurted out every survival line he’d ever heard on TV.
The man dragged his thumb along the blade, walking toward him with equal parts disdain and irritation.
“I’m your master. Call me that from now on.
You’re my slave. Understand?”
The words detonated inside Thor’s skull.
BDSM?? Am I in some freak porn scenario?? Am I already his slave?? What the hell happened?? Is this a nightmare?
A sharp, burning pain across his chest answered that—
No nightmare.
The man had carved several letters into Thor’s skin. Thor yelled, fists clenching instinctively. But every attempt to curl inward was stopped by the cuffs, letting the pain ripple unchecked through his entire body.
“Get to know your master, Thor,” he said, emphasizing Thor’s name like an insult, like it tasted good on his tongue.
Thor’s mind was chaos—fear, rage, humiliation all boiling together. If he weren’t bound, he’d break this man in half. But the strap on his throat kept his head pinned; he couldn’t even look down at his own chest to see what was carved there.
Then the man simply walked out.
Thor’s first night was hell.
Once the rage burned out, the fear seeped back in—cold, persistent, and stretching endlessly with the pain in his chest.
By late night, his legs were numb, his back spasming, and every breath scraped.
The longer he hung there, the slower his thoughts became.
So when the black-haired man entered the next morning, Thor’s first instinct was to beg to be released.
He held it in—barely.
The man was wearing a crisp white shirt today, looking calm, elegant…
For some reason, seeing him so composed made Thor rekindle a spark of defiance. He shook the iron frame violently, demanding to be let go.
The man didn’t react—he simply rolled over a huge container of juice.
Thor’s stomach dropped.
He watched as the man attached the barrel to a rubber hose, fixed it with a stopper, then connected the other end to a sealed breathing mask.
“When I put this on you,” the man said casually, “you’ll have ten minutes to finish the whole thing. Ten liters. If you call me ‘master,’ maybe I’ll let you drink half.”
Ten liters.
Even water could kill someone at that quantity.
Thor’s survival instinct and pride slammed into each other—
Eventually, pride lost.
Because survival whispered, Call him master now. Kill him later.
And so Thor complied.
The man strapped the mask onto him and watched, amused, as Thor choked, sputtered, nearly drowning in juice he was forced to swallow.
By the time the mask was removed, Thor was a gasping wreck.
The man said only:
“Remember the word you used earlier, Thor.”
Then left again.
Day Two was worse.
Thor quickly realized why the man forced him to drink so much.
The pressure in his lower abdomen grew impossible to ignore.
Was he supposed to… relieve himself here, like this?
What then—his dignity stripped layer by layer?
His mind raced through every BDSM trope he’d ever seen—
Naked, tied, degraded, forced, humiliated—
Just thinking about it made him nauseous.
Then strangely calm.
“MASTER!” he roared at the door, summoning every ounce of pride left.
Silence.
“MASTER!” he shouted again.
The black-haired man was suddenly standing there, expression mildly surprised—then amused.
“What is it?” he asked, visibly pleased at the two uses of master.
“Master,” Thor said, gathering all his bravery and stupidity into one line,
“have sex with me.”
Chapter 3: Here Comes Some Torture
Chapter Text
It was no small ordeal for Thor to force out the words “Have sex with me” to the man who’d been torturing him.
But after being strapped to a wall for over a day, even humiliation began to feel like the easier choice.
The only reason he would debase himself in front of the demon he wanted nothing more than to beat bloody,
was because he had thought it all through.
This man knew his phone number.
Knew his name.
That meant he was likely someone in Thor’s own university, watching him for God knows how long.
He had knocked Thor out in the locker room after the game and taken him out smoothly—
meaning this wasn’t improvised. This was planned.
And he was repressed.
Compulsively neat.
Obsessed with adjusting his sleeves and fastening the top button of his shirt.
What did all that say?
Thor regretted ever blowing off that freshman elective in social psychology.
The only BDSM knowledge he could draw on now came from porns he watched with his dorm neighbor—
images of women in latex kneeling obediently, eyes begging for their master’s attention.
And then it hit him.
If dominance and cruelty brought this bastard pleasure—
why not pick women?
They were weaker, physically.
Far safer than abducting a male athlete.
Unless this green-eyed monster preferred him.
Thor remembered that text message.
If pretending to like the sadist could buy him a chance at escape, he’d swallow his pride—
his entire body was already at its breaking point.
The pleading humility in Thor’s eyes was unbearable to the black-haired man.
The composure on his lips vanished instantly.
“Only I decide what is done here.”
He grabbed a cup from the table and poured its contents directly onto Thor’s chest.
Agony exploded through Thor—
the half-healed wounds reopened, burning as if lit by fire.
The man slid his fingers into Thor’s blood-soaked hair, slowly lifting his head from the metal frame.
The collar strap dug deeper into Thor’s skin, choking him.
“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he whispered against Thor’s ear.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The sentence almost shattered the last coherence in Thor’s mind.
He had begged.
Called him Master.
Even offered himself.
But the man had no sympathy.
If pleading didn’t work, fighting back would be suicide.
“Please… let me down. I’ll do whatever you say… I won’t run.”
The man’s brows eased slightly.
He seemed convinced.
He left the room—
then returned minutes later with a toolbox, sitting elegantly in the high-back chair in front of Thor, fingers interlaced, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“My slave. Tell me your name.”
Thor had no choice but to comply.
“My name is Thor Odinson,” he said, in a voice low but not entirely crushed—desperate to preserve a shred of dignity.
“Call me Master… you idiot.”
A solid rubber ball slammed into Thor’s abdomen, pain rippling through his body.
“I’m sorry, Master,” Thor managed, clinging to the only thread of survival he had left.
“Next time you get it wrong, it won’t be a rubber ball.”
Twisting the ball in his hand, the man stood, drew a short blade, and undid all of Thor’s restraints.
Thor’s legs gave out instantly—he collapsed to the cold floor.
Then, cruelly, the man buckled an electric collar around Thor’s neck.
“Quiet slaves don’t get shocked,” he said, shaking the remote in his hand.
“And resistance is useless.”
Thor hadn’t expected to be freed from the frame only to be thrown into another form of torment.
His wounds were uncleaned; the dried blood on his scalp tore open again whenever he moved.
His chest was a wreck.
His body starving.
His bladder aching from the forced juice.
And at any moment this man—whose brain clearly didn’t function like a normal human—could shock him for no reason.
“Master, I await your command.”
Thor bowed instinctively—
and hated the way his mind was sinking to its knees.
The man seemed to know the golden beast before him was just holding his breath, concealing his murderous intent.
He raised his foot and ground it into Thor’s wounded scalp.
Even with all his attempts to endure, Thor was still just a college kid in his early twenties—
his rationality had limits.
And when the man stepped on his head, Thor’s survival instincts could no longer contain the fury burning inside him.
Thor lunged upward, slamming into the chair, finally pinning the bastard beneath him.
Staring into those green eyes, he wanted nothing more than to beat this man into an unrecognizable heap of flesh.
The chair back cushioned the man’s head from the impact, preventing real injury.
He didn’t even panic—
just squeezed the remote lightly.
Thor convulsed violently on the floor as electricity tore through him.
By the time Thor could crawl again, the man was already sitting calmly in the chair once more.
He nudged Thor’s blood-matted hair with his toes.
“If you behave, I can treat your wounds,” he said gently—
as if he hadn’t stomped on Thor’s skull seconds ago.
“I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Thor almost laughed.
Masochist logic.
Classic.
Then his eyes caught the scars on his chest—
letters carved into his skin.
“…Loki?”
Thor asked bluntly, forgetting again to use the title.
Loki didn’t get angry this time.
“That’s your mark.”
The realization hit Thor hard.
This man was a lunatic—someone who carved his name into people.
Logic didn’t apply here.
Thor’s gaze drifted to the remote in Loki’s hand.
If he could get his hands on that, he could escape.
He just needed a moment.
Loki didn’t give him even the opportunity.
“You have five minutes to please me, Thor.”
He shook the remote.
“Time starts now.”
The memory of electric suffocation was still fresh—
Thor couldn’t risk another shock.
Loki’s thumb was already hovering impatiently over the button.
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it—don’t press it… Master.”
His stomach twisted as he said the word.
Seeing Thor frozen and clueless, Loki extended a foot toward him.
Thor hesitated only a moment before kissing the ankle—
then the inner calf—
until the tailored pants stopped him from going any higher.
He looked up.
Loki didn’t stop him.
There was even a faint wash of color on his face.
“Your time is almost up,” Loki reminded him.
Thor forced himself forward—
If he wanted to avoid being shocked, he had to commit to hell.
He kneeled between Loki’s legs and reached for the zipper, hands trembling.
He tried not to think about the fact that a man’s genitals were about to enter his mouth.
Tried not to think about the remote only inches away.
Loki gently stroked Thor’s hair—
then quickly withdrew the gesture, as if catching himself.
Thor took Loki into his mouth, cautious and slow, terrified his teeth might graze and earn him another round of electrocution.
Loki’s breath quickened, body tightening, eyes closing.
The room filled with the obscene sound of wet, reluctant devotion.
Thor used his tongue, feeling the shaft swell inside his mouth.
Even monsters get erections, Thor thought grimly.
Loki’s hand tightened around the armrest—
the remote held too firmly for Thor to snatch.
He was drowning in the sight:
a golden, muscular athlete, wounded and kneeling, taking him in his mouth.
It was everything Loki had fantasized about while preparing this kidnapping for months.
Seeing Thor’s hair matted with blood beneath his foot earlier had almost made him light-headed with pleasure.
Then—
Loki thought of his father.
The man who burned all his belongings after discovering his orientation.
The man who said, “Son, I’m saving you.”
The man who forced him into a psychiatric ward.
The pleasure vanished—
replaced by a violent urge.
Loki seized Thor’s collar and kicked him to the floor.
Thor, furious and confused, glared up.
How could this bastard pull away in the middle of pleasure?
Before he could curse, Loki pressed the button.
“You don’t control me, Thor.”
And he let Thor convulse until he blacked out.
Even after waking, Thor was screaming for him.
“Loki, you cowardly bastard! Come fight me!”
“Loki, I swear I’ll hang you at my front door!”
“Loki, you piece of shit hiding behind a door—get the hell in here!”
Thor had given up on patience entirely.
And Loki—
Loki adored every part of him.
Every game, every elective class Thor ever attended—
Loki had been there.
Same year, same campus, same halls.
But Thor had no memory of him.
Thor had teammates, parties, girlfriends, victories—
while in the back of an ignored psychology lecture,
a black-haired, green-eyed student kept glancing at the door,
hoping Thor might walk in.
One day in the cafeteria, Loki overheard Thor’s teammates.
“Dude, they said the campus queer club officially voted you ‘Romance King’ this year. Congrats, man.”
“That’s the grossest thing anyone’s said today. Shut up.”
Thor laughed.
Loki threw the rest of his lunch in the trash.
Chapter 4: Unexpected Attack
Chapter Text
Thor woke again to utter darkness.
A gag filled his mouth, making sound impossible.
He tested his limbs—
all bound to a bed.
Everything else was swallowed by the unknown.
The door opened.
Loki must have entered.
His steps were light, but Thor still heard the approach.
This time Loki didn’t give a simple command and wait.
Thor felt the bed shift—
Loki crawled slowly from the foot of the bed toward him.
He lifted Thor’s head, and a sweet-tasting liquid was poured through the tiny hole in the gag into his mouth.
Thor wanted to resist, but with his limbs restrained, eyes blinded, voice silenced—
he had no power but to swallow.
“Thor…” Loki said his name, unusually gently.
“Just relax… don’t struggle…”
His tone carried an unmistakable heat.
Thor felt scissors slicing open his pants.
Then his shirt.
In moments he was naked on the bed.
And then—
heat bloomed in his throat.
The pain in his chest melted into a heavy, molten ache rushing downward.
Loki had drugged him.
His heartbeat accelerated.
Breath grew heavy and involuntary.
The next second—
teeth closed around the head of Thor’s erection.
The sharp sting didn’t cool him—
it inflamed him further.
Imagining that self-righteous kidnapper with his lips wrapped around him…
Thor felt an inexplicable surge of arousal.
Somewhere along the line, Loki had gotten inside his head.
Loki himself had taken plenty of the drug.
His skin felt thin, overheated, sensitive to the slightest touch.
His mind was losing its usual rigid control…
His last shred of sanity kept him from unlocking Thor’s restraints the moment orgasm tingled in his spine.
When Loki wasn’t using his mouth to issue commands,
it was surprisingly useful.
Thor felt that tongue working him with meticulous attention.
Maybe it was the drug,
but he felt no disgust—
only a desperate hunger to tear off the blindfold and see Loki’s expression.
Loki soon grew unsatisfied with only licking.
His long fingers stroked Thor’s erection lazily while the other hand reached behind himself,
testing the tight entrance he had never used with anyone before.
Pain shot through him.
He hissed softly.
Thor lay abandoned on the bed for a minute—
frustration mounting with the drug heightening everything.
Normally he would have used such a moment to plan escape.
But now Thor wanted to grab the invisible bastard, throw him down, and fuck him into the mattress.
Thor pushed his tongue hard against the gag, forcing it out.
“Let me go… let me fuck you right.”
Unexpectedly, Loki removed his blindfold.
Thor saw a naked Loki for the first time.
Even drugged, Loki’s body stunned him—
slender, tight, covered with tattoos of small snakes coiled together across his legs and waist.
Their tails tangled like they were mating.
Fueled by the drug and the dimming light beyond the window,
Thor burned with an instinctive need to thrust into this demon—
or rather,
this demon who had never looked this seductive.
If only his limbs weren’t bound.
Loki’s eyes were filled with barely contained desire.
“How… do you want to do it?”
For the first time, he asked Thor’s preference.
“Untie my hands and feet. I won’t run.”
Thor saw Loki hesitate, fear of retaliation flickering.
He added, with a grin curling at his lips—
“You can use the collar, Loki.”
It was all the drug talking, Thor told himself—
because right now he only wanted to throw Loki’s legs over his shoulders and drive him into the headboard.
Loki steadied his breath and unlocked the restraints.
But Thor didn’t wait for the collar.
He immediately flipped up, seized Loki’s arm,
and slammed him beneath him, crushing Loki’s lips with his own.
Loki hadn’t anticipated the drug would make them tangle like mating serpents—
writhing together, hungry and shameless.
Thor entered him slowly,
not the brutality Loki had expected.
Maybe his mind was hazy,
but once Thor slid inside, Loki felt less pain than he had feared—
instead feeling startlingly full.
Thor’s hips moved.
Loki gasped as pain and stimulation clashed inside him,
something dangerously close to addictive.
Thor gripped his waist and thrust harder.
Loki’s insides were scalding, squeezing around him.
And Thor could barely think—
visions of tattooed snakes mating across Loki’s skin clouded everything.
Seeing Loki—hair messy, naked, kneeling like a dog beneath him—
ignited something primal.
Thor suddenly understood how Loki found pleasure in torturing him.
He increased the pace.
Loki couldn’t hold back anymore.
His breath came in broken moans.
Thor grabbed one of Loki’s legs, lifting it high,
driving himself fully inside.
Perfect angle.
Deeper, harder.
Loki’s body trembled, half suspended, forced open.
Loki wasn’t built to take Thor’s size fully.
When Thor bottomed out, he froze—
shockwaves of pain and overstimulation making him tremble.
He looked close to spilling just from being filled like this.
Thor noticed.
Loki had been a different creature for the last thirty minutes—
but even now, he refused eye contact.
Despite being joined so intimately, Loki kept his gaze cold, evasive.
Thor flipped him over, forcing him to face him.
Loki’s cheeks were flushed,
but his eyes were still icy.
Thor pulled all the way out—
and slammed back in.
No reaction.
He did it again.
Still cold.
But his body, pinned, legs folded against his chest,
was already shaking.
Finally—
a whisper, broken:
“C–can you… go easier…?”
Thor almost laughed.
This wasn’t the same man who’d stepped on his head.
Why would Thor listen?
Loki felt the next thrust—
harder than the last.
A tearing ache shot through him.
“Easier… Thor…”
His words drowned in the relentless pounding.
By the end, he felt Thor finishing inside him—
but Loki’s own arousal only grew worse with the drug still heavy in his blood.
Thor pulled out, leaving him empty, leaking, still trembling with need.
Thor’s clarity slowly returned.
He couldn’t believe Loki had freed him—
only to end up begging beneath him for so long.
If at first Thor only wanted escape—
now he wanted to tie Loki up and use him for days.
Few bodies were this tempting.
Loki knew he couldn’t stop Thor’s revenge.
But since Thor didn’t look furious,
maybe he could flip the situation back in his favor.
“Thor…”
Loki whispered, voice dripping with a seduction he had never used before.
“Don’t you want to continue?”
Chapter 5: Stubborn Kid
Chapter Text
Loki had no room to negotiate anymore, and Thor knew it—he could do whatever he wanted now.
“I mean, I don’t mind going on…” Thor said as he reached for the handcuffs at the corner of the bed. “If I hadn’t gone two days without food, continuing wouldn’t be a problem.”
Loki had already noticed the direction of his movement, yet made no effort to stop him.
“There’s plenty of food and water here. You don’t need to leave.”
Loki’s calmness sent a brief flicker of confusion through Thor’s mind.
He doesn’t feel threatened that I’m handcuffing him?
But Thor didn’t dwell on it—after all, in his eyes, the situation was entirely under control.
He raised Loki’s right hand and cuffed it to the bed frame, exhaling with relief before getting up to search for clothes. Loki glanced at the cuffs on his wrist.
“Thor,” he said, his voice neither frightened nor frantic, “do you want to know what happens next?”
“What happens next,” Thor replied, having found Loki’s suit—a tight fit, but wearable, “is that I eat, drink, get dressed, and then take you where you need to go.”
“If the police show up, how exactly will you explain me sitting naked on the bed?” Loki teased, clearly not treating Thor’s words as a threat.
“You’re not going to the police,” Thor answered.
He found the beer and sandwiches Loki kept in the kitchen, eating as he returned to the bedroom. Pulling a chair over, he turned it backward and sat facing Loki. “I’m not planning to report anything.”
“Then where will I go?” Loki asked, showing not the slightest irritation at the reversal of roles.
“Is my slave planning to start torturing me?”
“I’m not like you, Loki.”
Thor stood up after finishing the food, removed the chair, and draped several pieces of clothing over Loki.
“Sure, things between us got… rough. But what just happened makes us even, don’t you think?”
“Even?”
Loki reacted far more strongly to that word than Thor expected.
“I kept you locked up for two days and two nights,” he said, something like regret flickering across his face—too subtle for Thor to notice. “You’re very easy to convince.”
Thor still didn’t understand why Loki seemed displeased.
“A day ago, maybe I would’ve gone to the police. But now… Loki, maybe you just need a bit of help…”
Loki’s expression darkened.
Thor’s mind was not only simple—it carried that nauseating tendency to repay mistreatment with kindness.
Loki rearranged his expression, trying to restore the calm he had earlier.
“Hypocrisy is exhausting,” he murmured to himself.
✦ ✦ ✦
Barely managing to squeeze into Loki’s suit, Thor then found an electric clipper in the bathroom.
He had no idea whether the clipper had been used for anything… questionable, but he still shaved off the matted, blood-stained hair on his head.
Finding that a buzz cut suited him surprisingly well, he even shaved lightning-shaped patterns onto the sides.
He had absolutely no intention of telling anyone that after being kidnapped and abused for two days, he had then spent a very long time in extremely close contact with his captor.
For now, there was only one thing to do—sit down with Loki and negotiate properly.
The problem was: when Thor returned to the room with his hopeful vision of “peaceful coexistence,” Loki had already vanished from the bed.
And moments later, his freshly shaved head was hit with a frying pan.
✦ ✦ ✦
A bucket of cold water jolted Thor awake from nightmares of writhing snakes.
He looked up, only to see Loki seated elegantly in a chair—
and himself strapped back onto the metal frame.
Thor abandoned thought for a full second.
“All your actions are under my control, Thor,” Loki said, crossing one leg over the other, somehow even more imperious than he had been two days ago. “After all, your brain isn’t as developed as your body.”
Thor’s mind really was in a storm.
Loki had to be schizophrenic.
Or his sexual fantasies were extremely unconventional…
“Loki, I can help you—”
But before he could finish, the collar on his neck sent a sharp burst of electricity through him, cutting his voice short and forcing him into silence.
What did Loki even want from him?
Good behavior? Obedience?
Thor recalled being kicked to the floor after ten minutes of “service” and thought bitterly that Loki embodied the ancient Eastern proverb—
men’s hearts are like needles at the bottom of the sea.
As strange as it sounded, Loki wanted Thor’s hatred.
He didn’t want a submissive slave—Thor’s personality made that practically impossible.
What he wanted was for Thor to twist, slowly, under the weight of hatred.
Thor liked fighting back.
He could submit temporarily for the sake of survival.
But in these three days, Thor hadn’t shown even a flicker of hatred toward Loki.
Even when he had the chance to harm him, Thor had chosen instead to help him.
Clearly, pain and humiliation alone wouldn’t make Thor hate someone.
But no one can endure watching the person they love be hurt by someone else, Loki thought.
Chapter 6: One gonna dream even when kidnapped
Chapter Text
Thor gradually felt a chilling sensation across his chest and realized that Loki had smeared his body with white, vanilla-flavored ice cream. Loki didn’t care that the melting ice cream stained his black shirt; instead, he couldn’t resist licking Thor’s body.
Thor glanced at his hands and feet—completely free, no shackles, no shock collar around his neck, even the scar on his chest had vanished.
“Wow…” Loki was already sprawled at his feet, eyes full of submission and adoration. “What do you want me to do, Master?” Loki had never spoken so obediently.
“I’m eager to carry out any command you have, because I am your slave…” Loki stripped off all his clothes in front of Thor, then knelt on the bed, calmly putting on leg restraints, a blindfold, a gag, and handcuffs behind his back.
Thor looked at Loki, now helpless and at his mercy, and a wave of daring ideas crossed his mind. He didn’t want to hurt Loki, though the scene was undeniably strange. “What exactly did I do last time?” Thor removed Loki’s gag. “I can’t remember.”
“You… did me.”
Thor felt his entire body heat up from those words.
Loki’s pale, firm legs wrapped around Thor’s strong lower back as Thor moved inside him. “More…” Loki arched forward, letting Thor go deeper. “I need more…” Loki pressed his constantly dripping desire against Thor’s taut abs, mixing their sweat and fluids together.
After a brief pause, Loki wiped the cum from his chest, propping himself up. “Allow me to help you…” he whispered, gently pinning Thor beneath him, straddling Thor’s still-aching body.
Thor clearly felt Loki tighten around him, a mix of sharp sting and intense pleasure consuming him. Loki lifted his round hips, guiding Thor’s member deep inside over and over. Loki’s face relaxed in delight, taking Thor’s hand from his waist into his mouth, sucking it while letting drool drip where their bodies connected.
“Loki…” Thor pressed his desire into Loki’s warm, wet depths.
“You’ve failed, Thor. You’ve missed too many classes.” The professor’s face was grim.
Thor stood there, dazed, unable to believe it.
“Mr. Odinson, take some responsibility for your future,” the professor scolded angrily, “Opportunities at Asgard University are rare…”
Thor stood in the school corridor, still questioning reality. Everything with Loki must have been a hallucination. He remembered only Loki’s blindfolded, tempting body.
Loki was pressed against the bathroom partition by Thor. “You’re Loki, right? Loki Laufeyson.”
“You know my name?” Loki laughed, not angry.
Thor realized after a beat that Loki was referring to football.
“Football is very… ahem… Anyway, Loki, why did you kidnap me?”
Loki rolled his eyes. “Being pressed against such a filthy place, I couldn’t think of anything else.”
Thor flipped Loki over, standing face-to-face in the narrow stall. “Loki, don’t make me do something terrible.”
Loki scoffed. “I don’t care about any threats…” His sentence was cut off as Thor pinned him against the partition again.
“You lunatic! This wall hasn’t been cleaned in ages!” Thor grabbed Loki’s wrists with one hand, undoing their belts with the other. “Listen, Thor, this… has no effect on me… I…” Loki felt a hot, hard object pressing against him from behind, poking his ass relentlessly.
“This is your last chance to confess,” Thor said, holding his own reflection in check. “What you say… I might forgive.”
“You lunatic, you tied me up in the bathroom…” Loki cried out as pain shot through him.
Thor didn’t stop, pressing Loki’s abdomen against his own. “…I have to admit, the temptation of making love with you is strong… even if you say no, I might still do it.” Loki’s hands could only stay near his face, keeping it from touching the grimy partition again.
“You seem to enjoy it too, Loki,” Thor repeatedly pressed his member against Loki’s sensitive spots. “Maybe we can do this again.”
Loki gave no response, remaining calm. Thor noticed small snakes emerging from Loki’s back, crawling along his waist toward Thor’s body, spreading across. Thor felt dizzy…
“Splash—” a bucket of ice water poured over Thor’s head. Loki sat across from him, face still scowling.
Thor gave up thinking immediately.
Chapter 7: Figure it out Thor
Chapter Text
Hmm… the situation in front of him was like this:
He had been ambushed in the fitting room and carried here by Loki;
He tried to struggle but Loki hit him on the head, knocking him out again;
He woke up on the iron rack, being called a slave by Loki;
He submitted to protect himself, getting his chest scratched by Loki;
He called him “Master” again to survive, and Loki poured juice on him;
He used seduction a third time to protect himself, and Loki tightened the collar around his neck;
He served Loki halfway, only to be kicked to the ground;
While bound, he suddenly ended up having sex with Loki…
The past 72 hours, apart from the sex, had been mostly heartbreaking. The worst part—why did the sex happen out of nowhere??? Thor fell into deep philosophical thought and concluded: he wasn’t just a slave, he was probably a sexual slave too…
Just as he was about to recall that rich, vivid dream, Loki took the initiative:
“All your actions are under my control, Thor. After all, your brain isn’t as developed as your body.”
Thor really wanted to ask if he still had a duty to provide sexual service, but he held back: “Loki, I can help you…”
Before he could finish, the collar at his neck released, sending what Thor felt like ten thousand volts of electricity through him.
That bastard, Loki Laufeyson…
“Your last name is Laufeyson?” Thor suddenly remembered the name flashing in his dream.
Loki’s expression shifted slightly, but he remained calm: “Normally, you should call me Master, Thor… yes, that is my name.”
Thor thought Loki was in a good mood today—or maybe he just didn’t want his neck to be burned from all the shocks.
“You’re in Professor Johnson’s class, right? Uh… right, Master?”
Loki’s official smile stiffened, showing a trace of nervousness: “So… you know who I am. That’s… unexpected.”
The only reason Thor remembered Loki’s full name from the dream was that at the start of the semester, in a few classes he had attended, Loki had challenged the professor on the shortcomings of psychoanalysis, and their debate escalated until the professor had to ask Mr. Laufeyson to leave.
“We are classmates… Loki, uh, Master, can you put me down for a moment? This is really uncomfortable up here.”
Loki happily agreed again—today he was in a good mood, so maybe freedom would come soon?
“If you want to eat with me, you can come to the cafeteria…”
“Can I take the collar off to eat?”
“No.”
The foie gras with red wine on the table felt completely at odds with Thor’s slave status. “This can’t be my last meal, right?” Thor thought he’d need another ten plates of this portion.
“This is also my share,” Loki said, pointing to the plate in front of Thor, “I didn’t prepare your food.”
That bastard, Loki Laufeyson… Thor’s stomach was growling like a symphony… He watched pitifully as Loki finished two servings for both of them and drank three glasses of wine.
If it weren’t for Loki holding the remote the entire time while Thor had nothing to eat, this scene might have looked romantic at first glance.
After three or four days of fatigue hit him, Thor sat in the chair waiting for Loki to finish, gradually nodding off. Soon, he was entirely sprawled over the table, snoring.
Loki looked at Thor sleeping, silently preparing the meal. When Thor was stirred awake by a spoon, he found not only appetizers, main course, and soup, but also dessert in front of him.
“Eat.” Loki gave what Thor considered the kindest command so far.
Thor lowered his head and devoured the food: “Your cooking is amazing, Loki. Have you had professional training?”
Loki watched Thor eating with the same wild abandon as he slept, and felt a faint sense of relief at Thor’s sunny, non-resentful personality.
Chapter 8: At least there is food
Chapter Text
Thor continued eating the dinner Loki had prepared, his mind wandering as he ate.
This man in front of him, if he hadn’t locked Thor in this room for four days, was actually quite charming… jet-black hair, pale skin, emerald eyes, a handsome smile (though often hiding murderous intent toward him), a tall, lean body, a solid chest, perfect abs, tight buttocks, sculpted legs…
Wait… when did I know this song? Thor furrowed his brow.
“I fully understand what it feels like to have your freedom taken away…” Loki said, hands clasped, suddenly wearing a peace-negotiation expression.
“Really?” Thor didn’t understand Loki’s subtext—was he going to let him go?
“Anyone tied to an iron rack would feel miserable. That lonely, helpless feeling… it pains me deeply.” Loki’s eyes flickered with a hint of human compassion.
Thor accepted Loki’s concern at face value, completely forgetting who had made him suffer so much: “Well… the worst part was actually that my legs hurt… and I was starving… couldn’t freely go to the bathroom…”
“I have a very good plan,” Loki interrupted Thor’s serious recollection, “If you accept, you will never have to go back to the iron rack.”
Thor furrowed his brow again, sensing things weren’t simple.
“What do you think?” Loki called to Thor five meters away—although Thor seemed to have no intention of escaping, he could attack at any moment. “It’s perfect for physical training.”
Thor faced the bucket, mop, soap, vacuum, and the lace-trimmed maid apron nearby. A dozen white flashes went through his mind. Ten minutes later, Loki got what he wanted: a muscular male maid cleaning his room.
“I didn’t expect this apron to suit your skin tone,” Loki couldn’t help but smile, “I must admit, I inadvertently helped you rediscover yourself.”
The guy in the ill-fitting apron, cleaning the floor on the other side of the room, looked unusually sullen, thinking that even if he didn’t escape, he’d find a chance to beat Loki up, even if he ended up electrocuted into a daze.
…Thinking about explaining everything to the police if he ran out made Thor’s head spin. In hindsight, Loki drugging him on the third day was a stroke of genius.
By the time the floor, tables, and every corner were cleaned, night had fallen. Thor had already burned off the calories from dinner, now his eyes only saw floating roasted meat.
“All done, Loki… Master.” Thor exhaled long and hard, feeling like a muscular Cinderella living under someone else’s roof.
Loki put down the remote and stepped forward, removing the apron from Thor’s chest. Then he walked back to pick up the small electronic device. “You may rest now, dear Thor.”
Saying that, Loki walked to the rough bed Thor had just prepared. “I think tonight you can sleep in the bed.”
Thor felt a flicker of joy for his improving situation and Loki’s return to some humanity—then he saw Loki pull a chain from under the bed. “Prevention is key, dear,” Loki said, tossing the chain toward Thor. “Put it on yourself, and then you can rest.”
Thor, putting the chain on himself, sat on the bed until four in the morning, suddenly realizing: “Damn! He left the remote on the table!”
It wasn’t until Loki poured a cup of cold water on him that Thor realized he could crawl out of the room even with the chains on.
Chapter 9: Optimism always wins
Chapter Text
Morning tasted like strawberries, because Loki had made cream-strawberry sandwiches, fried small, red sausages, and brewed black coffee. The table was full of fresh fruit, with Loki’s personal favorite, red grapes, placed in the center.
Thor, awakened by the cold water, immediately smelled the sausages. For a moment, he felt as if he had returned to a childhood bullied by his older sister, when their mother made breakfast for the two of them. His sister would eat her portion first, then place Thor’s breakfast on a high shelf, before slinging her bag over her shoulder to head to school, walking through the hall without bothering to acknowledge their father, Odin—completely ignoring him.
For a single second, black-haired Loki’s expression matched that of his sister Hela perfectly, reminding Thor of the fear of being completely dominated by his elder sister. Whether in strength or intelligence, Hela had always far surpassed Thor, and growing up, he had never been treated as a beloved child. He remembered Hela grabbing his collar as a child, suggesting to their mother to adopt a little girl with black hair instead, and later even planning to discuss adoption with their parents herself—though Odin had ignored all her requests.
“I drove a few kilometers to the supermarket, cooked in the kitchen, and you didn’t even try to struggle in bed. I’m impressed,” Loki said, holding a cup in one hand and resting the other on his waist. “Breakfast is ready.”
“I’m still chained,” Thor said, though his tone carried little complaint—yesterday’s food had been too good.
“The keys are right next to you—” Loki said, returning to fry the remaining little sausages.
When Thor unlocked his chains, a sudden thought struck him: “Loki is better to me than my sister.” He imagined Hela right now, probably unbothered, thinking he was some idiot who inexplicably vanished from the dressing room.
“When did you find time to practice cooking? This sandwich is—FANTASTIC!” Thor mentally re-ranked his previous breakfasts, pinching his right thumb and forefinger. “These sausages are amazing, just a hair away from being as perfect as Frigga’s.”
Loki’s lips twitched upward but froze halfway. “Frigga?”
“Oh, my mother,” Thor said, unaware of how blunt he sounded.
Loki paused, wanting to say something but stopping. Finally, he picked up his coffee cup and sipped lightly.
“Thor… I have to tell you,” Loki rested his chin in his hands, “I’m shocked you didn’t try to escape.”
Thor paused, holding a sausage. “Should I have tried?”
“Anyone who’s been kidnapped would try to escape,” Loki said, astonished but secretly pleased. “Why didn’t you?”
“Well…” Thor wiped cream off his mouth. “Maybe they’ve never had a sandwich made by you.”
Loki clearly did not buy that answer.
“Do you want the truth? Ah… I did want to escape before. You always looked like you might tear me apart and throw me in the river, your temper is unpredictable and quick to flare, and I felt trying to please you would be impossible…”
“But two days ago… hmm… that was amazing. I don’t know why you did it, but I really liked it,” Thor’s face showed lingering enjoyment from two days ago. “If you want, I’d gladly do it a few more times.”
Now the atmosphere was warm and pleasant. The kitchen smelled of creamy sweetness and fried meat. Loki had his coffee cup nearby, and further away lay the remote. Yet only Loki knew Thor’s collar no longer had any electricity.
Two days ago, to recharge it, Loki had had to sacrifice his own body—though some of it had been voluntary, of course.
“I’m thinking right now,” Loki tossed the statement out straightforwardly.
Chapter 10: Kitchen Floor
Chapter Text
The kitchen smelled intoxicating, ripe fruits within reach, mingling with the creamy sweetness lingering on lips and teeth, perfectly matching the overflow of hormones. Loki knew very well that removing the shock collar from Thor’s neck here was dangerous; he couldn’t be certain whether Thor was hiding his true motives, but temptation and risk were inseparable at this moment.
“I want to right now,” Loki agreed clearly to Thor’s request, a hint of permission in his tone, pushing the remote to the side. As Loki had expected, Thor’s gaze stayed locked on him. “But I need a little stimulation.”
Loki’s gem-green eyes flashed with that cold, obsessed light from a few nights ago. “As a sadist, I haven’t seen your blood in days. I have no interest at all right now.”
“My blood? That excites you?”
“Very much,” Loki rested his head softly on his palm. “The way you look when hurt… it’s extremely sexy.”
Inside Thor, the battle between reason and desire intensified. Loki seemed to be implying he should harm himself—dangerous…—yet Loki’s black hair draped over the pale skin revealed at his shirt collar, the contrast so stark…
“What should I do?” Thor’s voice was deep, almost husky.
“Hurt yourself, for me.”
Thor’s mind boiled like a pot on fire. Survival instinct and the desire to obey Loki collided violently. His heart raced. Deep down, he had been searching for a chance to escape, yet he realized he hadn’t thought about leaving for days—Loki’s constant presence kept his mind tethered.
Hurt myself… just a little… then I can be with Loki again. That’s not so bad… right?
Thor grabbed a small kitchen knife. “For you, Loki,” he said, pressing the blade to his hand. Blood ran down his arm. “You happy now?”
Loki hugged Thor from behind, hands on his waist. “…utterly.”
They lay on the kitchen floor, unbuttoning each other. Thor ignored the wound on his hand, smearing his blood on his clothes, reaching to undo Loki’s belt. Loki grabbed Thor’s injured hand and pressed it against his bare chest, drawing a crimson mark. “Thor, this is my mark—yours alone.”
That sentence unleashed Thor’s desires. He began to bite Loki’s pale neck with almost violent intensity, from collarbone to chest, side waist to firm lower abdomen, leaving Loki’s body covered in seductive red marks.
Loki’s back pressed against the cold floor, but his body grew hot. The indoor lighting made the blood appear darker, more like dirty stains, blending strangely with the winding snakes under Loki’s tight shirt.
The snakes on Loki’s body made Thor burn with need. Just like in his dreams, where the snakes crawled over Loki, through his arms, entangling every part of Thor’s body with cold, wet friction that left him breathless. Biting Loki’s smooth skin eased Thor’s panic, and stopped him from questioning his own actions.
Loki wrapped his hands around the back of Thor’s neck, fingers resting between his collar and Thor’s throat. “Do we really have to… here? This place hasn’t been cleaned today…” His tone betrayed his cleanliness obsession.
Thor had to stop. “The kitchen floor might have ancient viruses,” he said, lifting Loki onto the table. “Maybe we’ll die having sex.”
Loki’s nude body pressed against ripened fruits, skin against soft, sticky plums. Pink juice dripped slowly along the edge of the table, evoking Ganymede* from myth—though this Ganymede carried immense danger.
Thor pressed Loki down on the table, fingers tracing the tattoos over his body. He knew Loki was sensitive to touch; each stroke and friction made Loki’s eyes flicker, breath deepen. The berries on Loki reminded Thor to grab some from the glass bowl, squeezing juice onto Loki’s velvety skin. “You know berries are aphrodisiacs, right?” Loki dipped a finger in his own juice and touched his lips. “I know.”
This Loki was far more proactive than last time, which did not escape Thor’s notice. Last time, Loki had barely let a sound escape his lips.
Thor also noticed the remote scattered nearby, the one he had never touched. That black device reminded him he was still a slave to Loki. Loki’s unpredictable temper, sun and storm in constant swing, was all because of the collar.
Now Loki could embrace him, only to shock him moments later. And somewhere along the way, Thor had stopped resisting. Worse, he had cut his own hand—and now he was excited. Loki had the magic to make him obey willingly.
“Why suppress your desires?” Loki noticed Thor’s hesitation, hugging his waist, pulling him closer.
“Loki… take this off,” Thor’s tone grew firm. “If you want to continue…”
This hit Loki right where he wanted. “Of course… I just need to grab the key over there—” he indicated the place where a second collar was hidden.
“No tricks, Loki. Unlock this,” Thor pressed Loki’s hands against his chest. “The key is on you, do you want me to search?”
Loki clearly hadn’t expected the sultry air to snap tense. “Relax, Thor. I’m completely under your control.”
“Now, Loki.” Thor’s voice left no room for negotiation or hesitation.
Ganymede: the beautiful boy from Greek mythology, taken by Zeus to Olympus.
Chapter 11: Past never dies
Chapter Text
Loki’s face looked pale, losing some grip on the man whose hands were bleeding yet felt no pain, but he quickly recalibrated. “Will you hurt me, Thor?” he began testing Thor’s current mood.
Thor replied quickly, “I won’t. I said it before.”
Loki cautiously slid out from under Thor and draped his jacket over his shoulders. “Opening it is possible, but you need to know the rules.” As he spoke, Loki slid to the kitchen utensil rack, slowly testing the small knife gleaming on the counter with his hand behind his back.
“Loki, I just don’t want to wear this anymore,” Thor tugged at the tight collar. “Let’s leave here. We can continue somewhere else—you and me.”
Loki’s probing hand paused, then leaned slightly back on the counter. “You mean… appear together at school?”
“If you want, I don’t mind at all,” Thor didn’t notice Loki’s hesitation.
Loki hesitated, unwilling to give in. “I have no desire to appear with a slave.”
“Really? You just now wanted to make love with me,” Thor, slowly adjusting to Loki’s childish contradictions, said. “I don’t know what happened before, but this must stop. The longer I’m trapped here, the more likely you’ll be prosecuted if discovered. Whatever plans you have, you’ve already succeeded, Loki.”
Loki didn’t retort as usual. He simply hid the knife behind his back, silently waiting for the right moment.
“Loki, help me unlock this, please?” Thor still had no intention of using force, seeing Loki’s actions as temperament, not lethal intent.
“Do you really think… you can persuade me to let you leave?” Loki’s brief words carried pent-up anger, masked by a flicker of struggling pain.
Facing such an uncommunicative Loki, Thor didn’t lose patience. “No, I just don’t want you to get taken—I thought I made myself clear…”
“I admire your performance for freedom, Thor,” Loki, seeing Thor hadn’t grabbed any dangerous tools, picked up the remote from the table. “But my good mood is over. Now, back to the living room.”
Thor, finally immune to Loki’s threats, said, “No, I’ll stay here and get shocked. At least you’ll still need to carry me and lock me up.”
The kitchen air froze for a few seconds. Neither spoke. Thor waited for Loki to place him, Loki contemplated his next move.
“I knew you’d be reluctant to shock me again, Loki. Another few shocks and my neck would burn.” Thor exhaled, touching his collar. In Loki’s eyes, it was all masterful acting and emotional control. Loki, caught in his own mental storm, couldn’t explain why he had deliberately placed the remote far away, nor why Thor hadn’t used force to escape—even though it would have been trivial. Loki’s mind echoed with “continue somewhere else.”
“Too late, Thor… too late.”
Time shifted back to Loki’s childhood. He grew up in a picturesque southern region, surrounded by rolling mountains and clear streams flowing into small rivers. Yet the people were conservative; some still believed that liking the same sex was the work of demons.
Loki’s childhood was entirely under his father Laufey’s shadow. The old man, a conservative, authoritative government worker, was a community opinion leader. He wanted his son tall, strong, and virile. When he discovered young Loki playing alone, building wooden houses, he stomped on the child’s painstaking creation.
“Men shouldn’t do useless things. They lead nowhere,” Laufey said, leaving the young Loki to gather the broken wood pieces, tears in his eyes.
Loki’s mother had died when he was very young; his father was his only family. To young Loki, his father’s word was law.
He was a delicate, clever boy, obedient without effort. He noticed adults weren’t as smart as imagined, nor did they care about him. Laufey handled work at home while Loki quietly carved dolls behind the house.
For a while, Loki thought life was beautiful, surrounded by kind people and devoted churchgoers. Until one night at age twelve, leaving a supermarket, he passed an alley and saw a group beating a man until his face was unrecognizable. The attackers included teachers and gentle restaurant owners—and shockingly, his father, Laufey.
Terrified, Loki ran home, hiding in his room. Curiosity drove him back out, but the attackers were gone, leaving only bloodstains. That night, Laufey sat on the sofa, smoking, as if nothing happened. Loki didn’t dare ask, convincing himself he had imagined it.
Soon, Loki entered middle school, a new world with graceful, athletic classmates. He often watched the basketball team, never realizing his difference. One blond-haired boy practicing shots finally asked him, “You’re gay, right? Why always watch me play?”
Loki faced such questioning for the first time—and fought at school for the first time.
When Laufey arrived, like a volcano ready to erupt, he silently dragged Loki home and told the trembling black-haired boy: “Child, I will cure you.”
After that, Loki’s nightmare began. Laufey ransacked his room, piled all bright-colored items at the door, and burned them: “My son will never be a filthy slut, never.” Loki still dreams of that image—Laufey’s anxious, disappointed face.
Laufey then forced Loki to socialize with neighborhood girls, who often fled at the sight of knives on Loki’s desk. Loki enjoyed sabotaging school, enjoying Laufey’s anger more. Soon, the community demanded Loki’s “treatment” at the local church. Laufey complied without hesitation.
At the church, Loki was a wounded beast, isolated and resentful. Laufey watched from the pew, expressionless. Congregants prayed repeatedly to purge Loki of his “disease.” Loki finally exploded: “If I die, I will drag you all to hell!”
The congregants, displeased, sent 15-year-old Loki to a psychiatric hospital. Months passed painfully. Medication, chilling electric shocks—each shock felt closer to hell. Loki replayed why he was treated this way, feeling his life had ended. Laufey visited, asking if Loki still liked boys; Loki remained silent.
Four months later, Loki compromised. “I now only like women. Thank you for curing me.”
Post-release, Loki drank, displayed violent tendencies, often bloody from bar fights. Laufey despised him; Loki drifted further.
On his seventeenth birthday, Loki was beaten in a street corner, relishing the pain, the touch of men’s bodies—it thrilled him. He lit a cigarette, feeling the nicotine burn and settle.
An elderly man, around sixty, stopped, observing Loki. “Child, you need bandages, may I help?”
“Thanks,” Loki didn’t look up. “I’m fine.”
“I live nearby. Hot chocolate and donuts at my place. Want to come?” Loki accepted. At the man’s home, hot cocoa and donuts were served.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you, Loki. I know your situation…”
“I’m fine, sir,” Loki replied, calmly sipping cocoa.
The man urged caution; Loki reluctantly listened. In the following months, he stopped smoking, drinking, wore refined clothes, applied to a northern university, and never returned.
In the third academic year, Loki learned online that the man was shot dead at home; police never caught the killer. Furious, Loki returned home, encountering Laufey and neighbors planning cleanup. Loki struck a neighbor’s leg with a wrench, then methodically injured the rest. Laufey broke several ribs.
“Loki, do you think you can walk away?” cried a bleeding female neighbor.
“Dear neighbor, the ones who can’t leave are you,” Loki lit the living room curtains. “Disgusting.”
Leaving the burning house, Loki felt liberated. No one could stop him now. He took the next plane back to school to watch Thor Odinson’s football game.
Loki imagined, inappropriately, that if he had seen Thor Odinson playing in middle school, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Thor would have said, “You like playing too?” Maybe I wouldn’t have been shocked, wouldn’t have burned my house…
Loki felt all his strength drained. He would soon be taken by the police, sentenced—death or eternal separation from Thor. He tossed the remote, slumping against the kitchen cabinet. “You may leave… the key’s in my jacket pocket.”
Thor, bewildered by sudden freedom: “What?”
“You may leave, Thor.” Loki lit another cigarette, thinking of that alley night. Life, like smoking, contained fleeting moments of happiness amidst endless solitude and confusion.
Thor quickly removed the collar, incredulous, touching his neck. Loki sat on the floor, smoking, not looking up. Thor knelt before him.
“Loki… I meant what I said about continuing with you.”
Loki exhaled, blowing smoke into Thor’s face. “You’re a classic… Stockholm syndrome patient.”
“Yeah… our start wasn’t perfect, but I later found you cute.”
Loki crushed the cigarette on the floor. “Cute? I carved letters into your chest.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Thor shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Loki thought Thor might be broken in the head.
“I held you captive here for six days.”
“Yeah… increased contact, I also sampled your skills.”
“…“ Loki was momentarily speechless.
“Why not? Considering your interest in me, I also enjoy being with you—”
“That was just to charge the collar, idiot.” Loki nervously lit another cigarette, unwilling to delve deeper.
“Loki, I know it sounds weird, but I want to continue being with you,” Thor tucked Loki’s hair behind his ear. “What do you think?”
Loki’s eyes glimmered; he lowered his head. “I need a reason…”
“I’ll give you five: our lovemaking is perfect, your body is sexy, you’re cute, your cooking is professional, and your eyes control me enough to make me hurt myself…” Thor counted on his injured fingers. “I believe they have magic.”
“I’m a man.”
“So… we can wear each other’s clothes in the future?”
Loki smiled, eyebrows curved for the first time.
Life was unfair, he thought. All the bad things happened first, Thor last.
“Too late, Thor… I killed someone a few days ago.”
Chapter 12: Safe Drive
Chapter Text
“I killed someone, Thor… it’s… too late.”
Loki confessed his crime, abandoning any explanations. Thor froze at Loki’s words. On the kitchen floor, one knelt while the other sat, until the sirens blared outside and the police commanded Loki to come out.
“How could you be so stupid as to get kidnapped at school?” Hela paced angrily in the house. “Do you know how many connections I pulled just to find you these past few days? How much work I had to put off! Thor, if Odin hadn’t demanded it, I would’ve let your classmate deal with you for a few more days.”
Thor, accustomed to his sister’s mix of warmth and cutting remarks, calmly asked, “What about Loki? He won’t be convicted, right?”
Hela raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Loki? That kidnapper? I heard he’s still under interrogation—don’t you want him to get punished a little?”
“Not at all. I want him to come out safely.”
“I’m not a judge, I can’t decide anyone’s fate,” Hela shrugged, appearing helpless.
“Can’t I appeal? I can say this was just a game between us.”
“Poor brother, not only kidnapped but brainwashed too… truly heartbreaking.” Hela was baiting Thor.
“What do you want me to do? Work as your laborer? Do your tasks? Anything.” Thor bit.
“My firm doesn’t need such a stupid employee—stupidity is contagious.”
“Then… my stuff… signed football? Off-road car? My canoe?”
“Those junk things are useless to me, Thor. Use your brain.”
Thor pondered for a while. “That little box? Father gave it to me when I was a kid?”
“Have you even seen what’s inside?” Hela already knew Thor understood her price.
“No, he wouldn’t let me.”
“Brother, someone like you can’t do anything with it. Odin just doesn’t get it.”
“…Are you sure Loki will be acquitted?” Thor was wary of giving the box to his sister, who had long wanted to sell him out.
“Of course, brother,” Hela smirked slightly. “If I wanted, I could even convince the jury that Loki was the one harmed.”
Thor’s feelings about having such a sister were complicated.
“By the way, I always intended for Loki to be released. He meets my expectations for a brother better than you do.”
“…He just kidnapped me for six days.” Thor heard Hela’s perfect-brother theory again after many years.
“That’s precisely why he and I are so compatible—”
“He kidnapped me for sex.”
“…“ Hela turned her gaze to confirm she’d heard it right. “Well, no accounting for taste , but everything else is fine.”
Thor felt suffocated by his sister’s love for perfection.
Hela indeed released Loki from custody without harm. Meanwhile, Thor checked news reports about Loki’s hometown. There had been a house fire, but no one died. Those injured reported being hit by falling wooden beams and were receiving treatment in nearby hospitals. Thor stared at the screen, tracing the plot in his mind.
“Your friend first injured neighbors and his father, then set a fire, didn’t stay, and went to kidnap you at school. He must have been watching you for a long time,” Hela summarized, walking past Thor’s computer.
“What? Why?”
“Now you know why you can’t work at my firm, right?”
“Emmmm… what else should I know?”
Hela leaned down, pointing at the screen, “A free lesson, brother: who tells the police they were injured after an incident?”
“Emmmmmmmm…”
“Guilty people. And,” Hela sneered at Thor, “Stockholm Syndrome sufferers.”
Hela didn’t know Thor was still analyzing how she deduced it was Loki.
Loki left the station unharmed, informed that his father was hospitalized. Learning none of the six victims died and would not press charges, Loki felt an immense relief. Though he had only just met Hela, her demeanor allowed him to imagine Thor’s life growing up.
“Thank you… for helping me,” Loki said, hands clasped. “I never imagined I could walk out of a police station like this.”
“It’s nothing, darling. Saving you is quite the profitable deal,” Hela said, opening a car door. “You’re not riding this one; it’s the Jeep behind—” and she drove off.
Loki glanced back to see Thor still near the station, looking anxious. Sighing, Loki took the passenger seat in the Jeep.
“Happy release,” Thor offered a box of liquor chocolates. “One?”
Loki noticed the lightning-shaped chocolates, picked one up but didn’t eat it. “Your sister just got me out of the station.”
“Yeah, it would’ve been serious if you were convicted.”
Loki watched Thor’s chocolate-stained mouth, hesitating to speak.
“So… where are we going?”
“Do we really need to hesitate?” Thor murmured, smelling faintly of alcohol. “I’ll take you back to school… during the 35-minute ride, you can tell me what happened.”
Loki looked at the box label, then the steering wheel, tightening his seatbelt.
Unlike the chaos outside, the Jeep’s interior was icy. If no one spoke soon, they might freeze in place.
“Thanks.” Loki broke the silence.
“No need.” Thor replied immediately.
“…” Another pause. Loki stared at the brake lights of the car ahead.
“I’ve always wanted to ask…” Thor rested his head on his left hand, “how do you have so many tattoos? It’s freaking awesome.”
“…They’re my charms… that’s all.”
“…” Thor’s mind flashed back to the dream in the school bathroom.
A few minutes later, “How was I chosen? Do you have some selection mechanism?” Thor asked, braking at the intersection.
“…I don’t want to answer.” Loki looked out the window.
At a red light: “…I have to tell you, Loki, I feel lucky about being kidnapped… um, not that I like being kidnapped, just that if anyone had to be kidnapped, I’m glad it was you… hmm, that didn’t come out quite right in my head, but you get me?”
Loki didn’t gaze at him with the usual care. Instead, he frowned, uneasy, and lit a cigarette in response.
“Convertibles are still cars,” Thor said, taking the cigarette from Loki’s lips. “Want some gum?”
Loki watched Thor handle the wheel, grab gum from his pocket, and monitor traffic in the rearview mirror, feeling incredulous. Thor’s captivity had left no mark; he had a family Loki envied, a life Loki couldn’t imagine. In his world, even hatred could melt away. Loki remained fascinated by Thor.
“Thor… what you said… um… that was just a joke, right?” Loki finally asked near the school.
“I said what?” Thor was clueless.
“You and me… um?”
Thor recalled all recent conversations, understanding Loki’s meaning: “Anytime, of course.”
This sent Loki into a subtle anger—“I kidnapped you and you just want to be my hookup?”
“Loki? What did I just say?” Thor shouted after Loki, who got off halfway to walk. “Did I say something wrong??”
“No, sir. Drive on.” Loki sneered, chewing gum.
“Loki? Get in, I’m driving slow and people behind are getting annoyed.” Thor leaned into the Jeep, explaining to Loki.
“Loki? What was the question just now?”
“Uh… get in, Loki! I feel a police car behind us!”
Loki got back in the passenger seat. “Drive, slave Thor.”
Thor looked at his gradually warming green eyes, smiling knowingly. “Alright, master. Whatever you say.”
FIN
(Previous comment deleted.)
hmbird_phd on Chapter 1 Fri 21 Nov 2025 04:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
(Previous comment deleted.)
hmbird_phd on Chapter 1 Fri 21 Nov 2025 11:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
(Previous comment deleted.)
hmbird_phd on Chapter 1 Sat 22 Nov 2025 12:26AM UTC
Last Edited Sat 22 Nov 2025 12:31AM UTC
Comment Actions