Chapter 1

Thor and Loki lived with their parents in a sprawling house in Alabama that had been in their mother's family for generations. She had been a model Southern Belle in her youth, and her smile and charm had not faded with the years. Their father loved their mother so much he didn't know what to do with himself, though he was always gruff and awkward around her in public. As for Loki and Thor – boys would be boys, and they tried to spend as much time away from their parents as possible.

They would run through the dusty field out behind their house, laughing as their bare feet pounded on the dirt, running from the storm clouds that followed them, and when the first drops of rain fell, Thor would tackle Loki to the ground. They would come inside grinning and wet and muddy, and their mother would scold them, and neither of them could ever remember being happier.

They grew up brothers.

It was winter and raining and Thor and Loki were bored. Their mother was trying to get them to help make dinner, so Loki was holding the top off the stew while she stirred. Thor was having none of it, and he was sitting on the floor watching them. "Are we ever going to get a sister?" he asked plaintively.

Frigga laughed and let Loki put the lid back on the stew. "Why would you want another sibling? You have a brother right here."

Thor frowned and rested his chin on his knees. "I just . . . thought it would be nice to have a sister."

Frigga looked at Loki in confusion, and he rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Jane."

"Oh," she said. "Didn't one of the girls in your class get a baby sister recently? Jane?"

Thor blushed. "She's really cute," he mumbled.

"Jane or the baby?" Loki asked, and Thor tried to hit him, but he darted out of the way, smirking.

"Not in the kitchen," Frigga scolded them gently. "And it isn't up to you if we have another baby." She reached down and placed a kiss on Thor's forehead, and then quickly pecked Loki on the cheek. "You two are all I need."

"But you could have another one, if you wanted to."

Frigga laughed, though a little sadly. "I'm afraid you were my one and only chance, honey," she told Thor, and she ruffled his hair.

Thor stilled under her hand. He frowned up in her confusion, and she realized too late what she had said. "What?"

Frigga looked at Loki. His face had gone pale. She took a step towards him and he took a step back. "What do you mean?"

Frigga's face fell. "Oh, darling," she said, and Loki bolted out of the room.

Loki locked himself in his room. Thor sat outside, his head resting against the doorjamb, and talked and pleaded with Loki until Loki finally opened the door. Loki looked at him, his eyes red, and wordlessly let him inside before he locked the door again. They curled up under the covers, and Thor held Loki's hands and pressed their foreheads together while Loki cried in long, heart-wrenching sobs that made his whole body shake.

"Why didn't anyone tell me," Loki whispered after he had calmed down. "I thought –" He looked dangerously close to tears again, and Thor tensed, but his eyes remained dry. "I thought we were brothers."

"We are," Thor assured him, and he squeezed his hand. "We'll always be brothers. I don't care that you're adopted." Loki flinched at the word, but Thor kept going. "I mean it, Loki. I don't care if ma doesn't have any more kids, as long as I still have you. I'll – I'll always be here."

Loki smiled. "You had better be." Thor grinned, and he decided that Loki was finally alright.

After that, Loki changed. He grew more sullen and spoke less. Thor was the only one who didn't start to avoid him. That meant more to Loki than he would ever say.

Every Sunday, they would dress up for church. Even when they were young, Loki would always be spotless, even though he whined about having to wear the collared shirt that pinched at his neck and the uncomfortable shoes. Thor was frequently covered in dust from wrestling with his friends, and at least a few buttons were always undone. Frigga would make a displeased noise and Odin would sigh, but Loki would always be the one to brush off the dirt first. He would do up Thor's buttons one at at time, frowning as he fumbled with them, but Thor never complained. He would smile at Loki, and Loki could feel his warm breath on his face.

When the summer thunderstorms would come, Loki would sneak into Thor's room. Thor was a heavy sleeper and didn't mind the thunder and lightening, but he would wake up when Loki crawled into his bed. It wasn't the thunder that frightened Loki: it was the lightening. Thor would move over, and Loki would bury his face in his pillow to block out the light. Somehow, it seemed like lightening would never dare strike Thor.

"Those boys," a neighbor once said to Frigga, "They look out for each other."

Frigga smiled. "They do."

"I'm making pie," Frigga called. "Thor, what flavor do you want?"

Thor and Loki, who had been playing in Thor's bedroom, raced for the stairs. Thor easily elbowed Loki aside and took the stairs two at a time, while Loki rolled his eyes and followed close behind him. "What about Loki?" Thor demanded when he reached the kitchen.

Frigga was at the counter rolling out the crust while Odin washed the dishes leftover from breakfast. "Loki already told me what he wants," Frigga told Thor over her shoulder. "It's down to pumpkin or apple."

"I vote apple," Odin rumbled, and he reached over and gave his wife a peck on the shoulder. She shrugged him off and smiled.

"What if it's a tie?" Thor asked.

"I'm not voting," replied Frigga. "Now hurry, because this needs to go in the oven."

"What did you vote for?" Thor asked Loki, but Loki just smirked and leaned against the doorway.

"I'm not telling you."

Thor hesitated. "What will it be?" Frigga asked.

"Pumpkin," Thor said finally. He watched Loki closely, and he saw Loki's lips curve into a smile.

"Damn," said Odin.

"Pumpkin it is! Now wash your hands, because both of you have to help."

"Ha," said Odin with a smile as his sons groaned.

"It'll be apple next time," Frigga assured him.

"Mmm-hmm," said Odin, and he and his wife exchanged a long, lingering glance and a warm smile. Thor and Loki rolled their eyes at each other as they both stole a bit of the pastry dough.

"Stop that," Frigga told them. "One of you, put the crust in the oven so the middle can cook while we make the filling."

"I'll do it!" shouted Thor, but Loki had already grabbed the glass pie plate. Thor opened the oven and reached for the pie, but Loki outmaneuvered him.

"No. I had it first, Thor," he said as he slid it in the oven, but Thor was still reaching for it, and he bumped into Loki. The pie plate slipped from Loki's hands, and Thor barely managed to keep it from falling onto the floor. Loki's hand hit the hot door of the oven and he let out a sharp exclamation of pain.

Thor looked up wide-eyed. Frigga muttered something under her breath and steered her younger son to the sink, pushing her husband out of the way in the process. She turned the water on cold and stuck Loki's hand under it. Loki hissed at the pressure on the burn.

Odin and Thor could do nothing but watch. Odin's hands were dripping water and soap suds on the floor. It was stupid, but Thor was on the edge of tears, and when he met his father's eyes, Odin noticed. He pulled Thor into a hug and sighed. "It wasn't your fault," he told Thor.

"Yes, it was!" Loki snapped over his shoulder. His eyebrows were drawn together and he looked more angry than in pain. "You always side with Thor. He was the one who pushed me."

"That wasn't his intention."

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was," Frigga said before Loki could open his mouth to reply. She turned off the water. "Thor, get the filling started. Loki, go sit down. Don't put any pressure on the burn." As Loki passed him, Thor saw that the side of his hand was bright red. Thor angrily turned back to the mixing bowl and reached for the pumpkin.

When the pie was done, Thor went looking for Loki. He found him sitting on the back porch, reading a book. Thor glanced at the title and immediately lost interest; Principia Mathematica by Sir Isaac Newton, said the part of the cover that wasn't covered by Loki's fingers. Loki was frowning heavily. It looked like he was having a hard time getting through it.

"I brought you some pie," Thor said.

"Thank you," said Loki without looking up.

"I'm sorry, Loki," Thor said. He tried not to sound miserable and failed. When Loki didn't react, Thor sat down next to him, grabbed the fork off the plate, and cut off a forkful of pie.

"Hey!" said Loki, and he hastily put the book down in his lap.

"Ah, ah," said Thor, grinning. He held the pie out of reach. "Show me the burn first."

Loki rolled his eyes. "You're such a child," he said, but obediently held out his hand. The redness had faded, but there was now a blister sitting angrily under the skin.

Thor's mouth compressed into an unhappy line. He handed over the pie. "Here."

"Thank you." Loki took the pie too quickly, pretending not to notice Thor's expression. He took an eager bite . . . and chewed very slowly. His expression turned quizzical.

"Yeah," Thor said. "I might have put in too much cinnamon."

Loki coughed, and then laughed. "'Might have'?"

Thor grinned and leaned his head against Loki's knee. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yes," said Loki, and he mussed Thor's hair. He paused, his hand still buried in Thor's shaggy blond locks.

Thor peered curiously at Loki through his fringe. Loki was giving him a very strange look. "What?"

Without comment, Loki leaned in and buried his nose in Thor's hair. "Your hair smells like cinnamon," he said in what sounded like awe. Thor froze. Loki pulled back and looked at Thor. "How in hell did you get cinnamon in your hair?"

"Loki Laufey Borrsson," Frigga called out the window, "I had better not have just heard you swear."

"No, ma," Loki and Thor chorused. Loki smiled at Thor, and when he finally removed his fingers from Thor's hair, Thor's scalp tingled.

At some point, Loki's interest in church disappeared altogether. Thor could see it in his eyes and the bored set of his mouth, but he kept coming anyway. He didn't sing the hymns anymore, and Thor missed it. He missed trying to pick Loki's voice out of the crowd, and he missed trying to match their harmonies until their voices made one wavering tone. But Loki simply stood there quietly, staring ahead, and no one ever said a word about it.

The year Loki turned fourteen, Thor and Loki were waiting for their parents one day outside of church after the service. Loki leaned in close to Thor and stared at him intently. Thor stood still and eyed him warily. ". . . Brother?"

"You have freckles."

Thor frowned at him. "What?" He wiped his hand over his face like he could feel them. "No I don't!"

A mischievous smile spread across Loki's face. "Then why did your voice just crack, hmm?"

Thor could feel his face heating. "That doesn't have anything to do with it. I don't have freckles. It's probably dust or something." He wiped at his face again, but he didn't know where these "freckles" were supposed to be. Loki seemed to be looking at his mouth, and that couldn't be right.

Loki's eyes jumped back up to Thor's. He grinned again, a slow grin that made Thor blush twice as fast. Damn it, he was wasn't embarrassed! "You have freckles, Thor. You've been spending too much time in the sun."

"Come on," Thor said in a voice that sounded remarkably like a whine. He tried to lower his voice. "How come I've never noticed them?"

"Well, you don't have very many." Loki reached out. Thor flinched away, but Loki was too fast and ran his finger down the side of Thor's nose. "There's just a couple."

"How many exactly?"

Loki leaned in closer, squinting at Thor's skin. "Hmm . . . maybe just one."

"One!" Thor snorted. "You can't have just one freckle!"

Loki's eyes met Thor's, and they were close – so close, Thor could see the little flecks of darker green in the midst of the jade. Jesus, he had beautiful eyes. No one else had eyes like that in their family. "You do," said Loki, and he turned away laughing.

Thor felt like this was connected to church, somehow, but that was ridiculous. He clapped his hand to his face again, absently tracing the same line that Loki had. Freckles and God had nothing to do with each other.

Besides, he didn't have freckles.

As they got taller and Thor's hair became longer, Thor's clothes became neater and neater. He was never covered in dirt anymore, but for some reason he always left the top two buttons of his collared shirt undone. Loki would wordlessly move closer to him and button them up with deft fingers. Thor would watch him, watch the slight shadow made by a loose, dark curl of hair, the line of his eyelashes as he gazed down at his work. Being so close to Loki was like suffocating in the heat of a summer's day. He could feel the warmth of Loki's fingers on the hollow of his throat, and Thor would hold his breath as though that would preserve the moment.

Then Loki would finish, sometimes with a tug on Thor's collar to straighten it and the slightest brush of his fingers on Thor's skin. He always moved away without so much as glancing at Thor's face, and Thor felt himself drawn after him. He wanted to see that flash of green eyes directed at him, the way Loki's lips parted when it was too hot out and sweat collected on his upper lip–

Thor always had to look away, then, because Loki might be adopted, might never get the broad shoulders Thor had inherited from Odin, might never be able to give Frigga's easy smile, but they were brothers. That was the one boundary they could never cross. Thor never thought about why, about why he wasn't supposed to watch the curve of Loki's throat in the afternoon light: it was just the way it was.

And then, one summer, everything changed.