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

under the same sky

Loki woke up one day and noticed something was wrong with his body. Not wrong as in 'he was a Jotun' wrong, but wrong as in 'it was medical and he might die' wrong.

///

He felt... hot and feverish, and a persistent headache that was there the moment he opened his eyes was making him feel like his brain were melting out through his ears. He groaned and, as a reaction, closed his eyers again, like by doing so the spinning in his head would go away. Of course, it did not. Loki remembered his life during his youth where he was prone to fall ill, back then it was Frigga who always made sure he was well taken care of. Or, it was her who made sure he didn't die. The sickness, though, went away as he grew up, which was why it surprised him that he woke feeling so unwell today.

He would have resumed his sleep, perhaps spent a whole day in bed, hadn't it been for Peter opening the door and entering his room. Peter never knew how to knock, and Loki gave up on asking him to a long time ago.

"Morning, Mister Loki," the kid said with a too enthusiastic voice that was too loud in Loki's ears (Loki had the sudden urge to either put a pillow on his head or throw the culprit out the window)

Then Peter walked to the window and opened the curtains to let the sun shine in. That was when Loki groaned and rolled over on his stomach; the sunlight too bright it blinded his vision even with his eyes closed and, of course, doubled the excruciating headache.

"It's nine," Peter spoke as he walked over and rudely yanked the blanket off of him, Loki's groan was more like a snarl this time, still he was on his tummy and didn't so much as lift up his head to acknowledge Peter's existence. "Come on. Breakfast's ready,"

But the truth was the mention of food somehow made Loki feel like throwing up. His sudden loss of appetite was, too, unusual. "M not hungry," he murmured from where his face was thoroughly pressed against the mattress.

"But Mister Thor made -"

"M not hungry. Go 'wayy," as if to prove his point, Loki pressed his face harder into the sheets. He could be... really mature sometimes.

Peter opened his mouth, his shoulders rose, like he had something important to say, though Loki couldn't see the reaction anyway, and by something important, it was 'Mister Thor successfully made something without burning down the kitchen' but whatever. Peter ended up saying nothing about that, seeing Mister Loki wasn't in the mood this morning. "Fine," he said that in the end, and waited for a couple while for Loki to say something. Loki did not.

When Loki, with the same horrible headache, lifted his head up from the sheet, Peter was already gone. Good, Loki thought then let his head fall back down. He had no intention to move any time soon.

~~~

He thought, had hoped, the headache would go away. It did not. As a matter of fact, it got worse. He felt worse; his muscles ached, his temperature rose and his head was killing him. Someone was knocking on his door and he had the sudden urge to scream at them to get lost, even the littlest noise was something he found unbearable right now.

"Loki?" Thor took it upon himself to open the door and peek his head inside. "It's midday," he said, the tone of disapproval as he eyed Loki who was still in his pyjamas, lying face down in bed. He looked, frankly speaking, miserable.

The footsteps coming closer and Loki made a sound in his throat. He didn't want to talk, or to be seen. He was generally feeling like shit. He had hoped his not fully acknowledging Thor's existence would be enough hint for Thor to take and that Thor would leave, the mattress shifting beside him proved otherwise, and Loki would have rolled his eyes, if they were open.