“The first time I saw you, I couldn’t believe Jötnar’s women were so nice.” Thor didn’t think much before talking, because he didn’t need alibi nor the reassurances of the liars. He was clear, cozy and he gave love with the easiness of pure heart. But Loki didn’t know the right answers. “Jötnar’s women don’t exist. We not even have the word.” Thor propped himself up on a elbow. He was naked and was so beautiful it hurt. “But how you…” “Take a guess…” he mumbled and turn his back on. Thor rolled on him like a boisterous pup, as he wasn’t the warm and perfect marble that he was, soft skin to touch and warm hands to gave pleasure. “It seems wonderful,” he whispered into his ear. “It’s a heir duty to assure offspring to…” “You’re not being serious.” Thor caressed sweetly his flat belly, the angular line of his hip, to descend and stop between his legs. “Why not?” “I am Jotun.” “So? We could produce a child who will cry snowflakes.”