Author's Note: This is now the first part of The Sound of Storms / Asgard Industries universe. I hope all you lovely readers enjoy it!

Contagious.

It's the first proper storm of the summer and Loki is dancing in the rain. It takes Thor a few moments to process what his younger brother is doing; at first, he thinks that Loki had forgotten something of his out in the back yard and was running to get it. Instead, however, he stands in the middle of the yard and twirls around in reckless, lopsided circles, seemingly unaware (or not caring) that there is lightning crisscrossing the sky in alarmingly frequent intervals. One such bolt lit up the entire sky and for a few seconds, Thor has his brother's image scarred into his retinas.

He thinks it's only appropriate that it was only his brother that had been captured in his eyes, not the entire back yard.

Even from his perch in his window seat, Thor can see that Loki is completely, hopelessly soaked. His hair, so black it practically blends into the night, is plastered to the side of his jaw and his white v-neck is practically part of his skin, not shifting an inch as Loki twists around, his bare feet digging into the ground. Thor thinks that his brother looks like someone out of a documentary on Woodstock; madly dancing to music only he could hear, not caring about the wind and rain and thunder. He thinks that Loki looks at peace and if Thor had it his way, he would watch his brother dance all night long.

Unfortunately, there's a little voice in the back of Thor's head that sounds a lot like his mother, telling him that if Loki doesn't come in, he's either going to get sick or get struck by lightning. The first possibility is actually worse than the second; when Loki gets sick, he's practically intolerable, even for Thor. As for the second situation, unlikely as it is to occur, Thor is sure that, despite the fact that lightning is the backbone of his father's company, Odin would be very displeased if his son was killed by his chief profit maker.

Either way, since both of his parents have somehow managed to sleep through the storm, the responsibility of getting Loki to come back in lies squarely on his shoulders.

When he opens his bedroom window, he immediately gets hit with a blast of warm rain, leaving him to splutter like a fish out of water. For a moment, he briefly regrets punching the screen out of the pane in a fit of anger a few months earlier but without it, he can stick his head outside and yell down at Loki, who seems to be whooping at the sky. The first time Thor calls his name, Loki either can't hear him over the thunder or ignores him so he yells it again, louder, his throat protesting. This time, Loki looks up and grins, a real proper grin that Thor has hardly seen on his brother's face in the last year.

"Come outside Thor!" he yells back, barely audible over the mixed sounds of the storm.

"Loki, you'll catch a cold!" he protests, but he can already feel his resolve weakening. His brother has always been good at turning him into a willing accomplice, at dragging him into situations that sounded like a bad idea only moments before. Even before Thor had started feeling… well, whatever it was, Loki had managed to wrap him around his finger.

And besides, he thinks that it's just nice to see Loki properly smiling when only months before, Thor was convinced that Loki would never smile again.

Shaking his head, Thor clears his mind of such thoughts. He's certain that time is now over. Loki is back to spinning, his long limbs flying around him, laughter pouring from his mouth. Thor knows that he really has no choice in the matter; he can't resist his brother, not one bit. Besides, it's not as if he was doing anything of importance inside. Once the storm knocked the power out, he'd swiftly run out of ways to keep himself occupied, which was why he'd been staring out the window in the first place.

So that's how he finds himself barefoot in the rain, toes squelching into the ground, trying his hardest to not collide with Loki, who is still spinning recklessly, showing no signs of dizziness as his toes continue to slide on the grass, sending him into faster twirls. The thunder and lightning have both let up slightly but the rain is still coming down in droves, soaking Thor to the bone. It's a warm rain though, one that does not chill but flushes his skin instead. Or at least, Thor thinks it's the rain that's making him flush, but the longer he watches his brother, moving with reckless abandon, the less he's sure.

An odd feeling settles into his stomach, a feeling that's both oh-so-good and oh-so-dreadfully-bad at the same time. It's a sensation that he's become more and more accustomed to over the previous year and realization hits Thor hard enough to make him stop his tentative movements and just stare at his brother. Loki continues to dance for a few more minutes before coming to a stop in front of Thor, his contagious grin showing all of his teeth. A few strands of black hair are plastered to his forehead and Thor has to fight the urge to brush them away from Loki's pale skin; the urge is so strong that his fingertips practically itch.

"Is this not wonderful, Thor?" he asks, twirling around one more time, arms flung wide to the sky. "Is this not beautiful?"

"You're beautiful." The words come out of Thor's mouth automatically and for half a moment, he regrets them; in that short span of time, his stomach sinks and he almost runs back to the house, prepared to lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. But his eyes catch Loki's for just a moment and suddenly, he doesn't regret his words at all because he recognizes the look Loki is giving him all too well; it's the same one he's seen reflected back at him in any shiny surface anytime he's around Loki. It's the look that says you, just you and despite the water coating his lips, Thor feels his mouth go dry. He can't help but stare again, taking in every small detail about Loki, from the way his jeans are stuck to his ankles to the way his spindly fingers are twitching just the slightest, to the way the rain is sticking to his long eyelashes. All the little details add up to a gorgeous picture and in the moment, Thor fails to think of a single human being who he would consider to be more beautiful than Loki.

"Loki-"

Before Thor can get another word out, his brother is pressed against him, long fingers tangled into his shirt, kissing him hard. Thor immediately kisses back, running his hands through Loki's tangled hair, feeling raindrops skating down his fingers and over his closed eyelids. Loki tastes like something elusive, something more than just the rain that continues to drench them. No matter how hard he thinks about it, Thor can't place it, so he decides to give up. All that matters is that Loki tastes wonderful and the things he's doing with his mouth are perfect, so perfect.

This is what it's been coming down to, for a year now, since the night where their parents had sat them down at the kitchen table and explained, with many a stammer and swallowed back word, that they were not blood brothers. They were brothers only by title and really, what did title matter?

Ever since that one night, Thor's brain had betrayed him, casting Loki in an entirely different, inappropriate light and he'd been completely powerless to resist. All the fleeting, accidental touches, all the glances he'd stolen and the dreams he'd had, they'd all culminated in this, with his hands gliding over Loki's skin and Loki's warm breath on his mouth when they both pulled away, gasping for air, lips swollen.

"Is this a dream?" He can't help but ask, the words ghosting over his brother's mouth. Even with his eyes still closed (he doesn't dare open them until he's positive he's not fantasizing), Thor can tell that Loki is smirking, his lips twitching familiarly.

"If it is, it must be one of mine," he answers and when Thor opens his eyes, Loki is staring at him, his smirk turned into another one of those absolutely contagious grins that actually reach his eyes. Loki actually looks happy and somewhere inside, Thor can't help but feel proud of the fact that it's him making his brother feel that way.

As he presses his lips to his brother's once more, thumbs tracing Loki's collarbone through his shirt, Thor thinks that he could really get used to that fact.