Loki Misses the Asgardian Prison System

Chapter 154

Warning: talk of vomiting and overall feeling like literal shit

Loki is going to stab himself.

Probably through the head. It hurts so much already, he's not sure he'd even feel the knife.

He groans and flops down on the bathroom floor, which is so incredibly unsanitary – he's never even cleaned this floor before – but he does not care. Maybe he'll get lucky and pick up some ancient, formerly unknown-to-man bacteria that will kill him before he succumbs to the shittiness that is life.

There's a knock on the bathroom door, and, given that this is essentially his own private bathroom, he has to assume that somebody is looking for him. He's really not in the mood.

"Go away," he groans.

"I thought I'd find you here," Thor says. He pushes the door open – apparently Loki didn't lock it in his desperation to reach the toilet before he vomited all over the floor – and invites himself in. "Having some morning-after regrets?"

Loki just groans again.

Thor chuckles and plops himself down on the floor with him. "How are you doing, brother?"

"How does it look?" Loki grumbles, forcing himself to sit back up so he can see him. "Why did you let me drink so much?"

"You were not going to take 'no' for an answer," Thor replies simply.

"I don't care; you should have stopped me." He drops his head against Thor's shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut.

Thor chuckles and puts an arm around his shoulders. "Do you remember any of last night?"

"Not much," Loki admits.

"That's probably for the best," Thor says, which is definitely not what a miserable god wants to hear while nursing a hangover.

Loki groans. "What did I do?"

"You just talked," Thor says. "A lot. About things that you probably should not have been talking about in front of everybody."

Loki groans again. He's not even sure he wants to know.

Thor just laughs, because he's an asshole who doesn't care that Loki feels like the actual embodiment of death.

How it's been so long and there is still so much alcohol in his system, he does not know, but he can feel it trying to sneak its way up once more, so he crawls back over to the toilet, resting his arms across the seat and letting his head lie on top of them.

Thor crawls over to join him, patting him on the back sympathetically. "I assume you'll think twice before indulging your alcoholism at the next party."

"It's not alcoholism," Loki mumbles. He doesn't drink nearly as much as Thor does. He never has. He just... got a little over-excited last night.

"No, you're right," Thor agrees. "If it was alcoholism, you would be better prepared for this."

Again, Loki groans. "I hate you."

"I know you do," Thor replies, far too cheerfully.

It gets quiet after that, and Loki's too busy wallowing in his own self-pity to notice whether Thor stays or leaves. He's not even sure he cares. He just wants today to be over. He wants to wake up and find that it's a new day and he's feeling perfectly fine and he can go about his life like he usually does – which is still fairly miserable, he will admit, but at least when his head isn't pounding, his stomach isn't doing flips, and he's not soaked in sweat, he can make himself enjoy it.