My Best Friend's the God of Mischief // Peter x Loki

cross my heart and hope to die

"What is the name of the boy who saved you?"

"Beg your pardon?" Loki's face was blank. He blinked once. And twice. The question was simply, so easily he could have slithered the answer out his tongue like chanting a spell he used to do so often while in Asgard the habit became his second nature, something like breathing. But here Loki's eyes met Quentin's and he found himself dumbfounded, as though hypnotized.

Just say it, he thought Quentin mouthed the words at him, still he couldn't be so sure because the numbness in his head was becoming too much that the face of the man, who was keeping him company, started to get unclear, the outline of Quentin's figure became fuzzy. Like Loki was dreaming and Quentin Beck was a picture in his imagination, his beautiful daydream.

Just say it, Loki. The voice echoed in his head as Quentin moved his lips. It sounded so mesmerizing, like Goddesses' choir lulling him to sleep. The world around melted together in one blurry painting, and the only thing Loki saw was Mysterio. Mysterio demanded something from him, something Loki could give, and Loki knew he was giving it to him because that was what a good person did, right? Loki needed to be good. For once in his life. He was so sick of the hideous monster dwelling within him. He needed to prove he could be good. He would be good.

Loki opened his mouth, "it's Pe -"

His eyes rolled to the back of his head (Quentin wasn't expecting this) then he fell forward so suddenly, his face face-down on Quentin's crotch (Quentin definitely wasn't expecting this, either)

"Loki!" Startled, Mysterio grabbed Loki's unconscious body and pulled him off of his most private part.

He shook Loki by the shoulders, but no, Loki wasn't going to come back. He was utterly out cold. Or dead? No no no, he couldn't be dead. Quentin was so damn positive the drugs, in which was put in Loki's drink, wouldn't kill. Just numb all his ability to think straight. So Loki would tell him everything without even knowing he was telling. Quentin had made sure of that since he would still need Loki alive in order to achieve his goals. How the hell how was he supposed to do this now if Loki was dead?!

He slapped Loki. Hard.

All he got was a groan coming from the back of his throat and that was it. Though it was enough to let Quentin know he hadn't poisoned the God of Mischief to death. It did not mean all the problems were solved. He needed Loki awake so Loki could tell him the information he wanted, but now Loki was a Sleeping Beauty with his head buried in the crook of Quentin's neck for fuck's sake!

If Quentin could scream, he would. Then he reminded himself he, in fact, could. It was his goddamn club after all! So he screamed, not some cursing words but his employee's name. Seconds later Mike, the bartender whose name was being screamed by his boss, appeared. "What is it, boss?" Mike asked, voice cracked a little because he knew he was so screwed.

"How much did you put in Loki's drink?" Quentin asked, Loki shifting a little in his sleep with his nose nuzzled up to Quentin's skin.

Silence was the only answer he got from Mike. And he didn't like it. "Gimme the vail." Ordered the boss.

Mike hesitated. "Sir, I -"

"I said give me the fucking vial!"

Mike flinched. He knew that was that. If he didn't want to lose his job (or worse) he'd better get the man what he wanted. With a shaky hand Mike pulled the small vial out of his pocket and handed it to Quentin who snatched it away like a hawk preying on its meal.

One glance at the object and anger started boiling up in his stomach. "You idiot!" Quentin snarled. The mask of an angel he wore earlier for Loki now gone, replaced by the face of a beast as he held the lovely little vial in front of Mike's face. The empty vail. "All of it? What, have you lost your mind? I said one drop. One. What part of that do you not understand?!!"

Mike flinched again.

"I was this close. This close of getting something good, and now look at him!" Quentin nudged at Loki who was sleeping soundlessly, shamelessly using his collarbone as a pillow. 

"Great. Now I'm a babysitter." Quentin murmured to himself, annoyedly dismissing Mike who couldn't be happier to get out of his boss' sight.

Why must everyone be so stupid, Quentin thought unhappily. Now there was nothing he could do. Nothing but wait till the drug wore off of Loki's system, and then he knew he would have to think of another plan to get the answer he wanted from the Trickster.

~~~

"Mister Loki?" Peter whispered to a raccoon he found at the dumpster. The raccoon hissed at him, indicating full hostility. Then it went back to its precious treasure also known as trash (literal trash)

Peter sighed. He didn't think this was Mister Loki.

Neither was the cat he found stuck in a tree (of course Peter helped the poor kitten down, and politely asked if he happened to be the runaway God) or the old lady he helped cross the road and asked if she felt like stabbing anyone (she said no, which meant she couldn't be Mister Loki)

Last hour Peter spent a great amount of time interrogating the pigeons he found at the park; none of them seemed to have seen Mister Loki, none of them seemed to be Mister Loki (Pete learned pigeons were smart, thus if they did see Mister Loki, he knew they would find a way to let him know)

Oh, he found a snake, too. The culprit almost bit him - would have bitten him if not for a fact his mouth was busy with a dead mice between his fangs, ready to be eaten. So no, Peter didn't convinced it was Mister Loki... unless Mister Loki developed a new appetite and started craving raw mice for breakfast.

Or was Mister Loki that mice who was Mister Snake's food? The thought crossed Peter's mind with no warning, for a moment Pete felt like throwing up (he did not, thankfully)

So far Mister Thor had no luck. Mister Stark was clueless, and May wasn't getting anywhere. It was almost as if Mister Loki just disappeared from the face of the earth. Pete wanted to shout at the top of his lungs as if doing so would help the anxiety gnawing at him.

His phone buzzed. He pulled it from his jacket in a heartbeat in hope it would be Mister Stark or Mister Thor or May telling him they found the God, but it was Ned texted him to ask about his absence in class.
(Pete totally forgot to tell his friend. He didn't mean to make Ned think he ignored him because that wasn't the case; Peter was simply exhausted and was losing his mind)

Mister Loki freaked out bc Mister Thor come to see him and now he run away, he texted his buddy, can't go to school. Have to find him.

Damn, Ned texted back in less than a minute. You think he's okay?

I don't know. Peter was actually frustrated as he typed away; he didn't know. Didn't know if Mister Loki was safe, that unknown was driving him insane.

Poor him. Ned said, must be scared. Hope you find him. If there's anything I can help, let me know!

Peter thanked him and put his phone back in his jacket.

He looked up at the sky and saw a magpie looking down at him from the streetlight. "Mister Loki?" Pete asked, the magpie flew away after a few seconds, and Peter sighed in defeat.

Where are you, Mister Loki? Just come home, please.