"Come out, come out wherever you are, Steve," you hum just loud enough from the kitchen that you know Steve's supersoldier hearing picks it up. But it's been hours, and still Steve doesn't emerge from his room.
Instead, Natasha steps out of the elevator, and her eyes light up as she excitedly shows you some new enhancements to her hip holsters Bruce has just given her. Then from around the corner slinks Clint, three giant quivers in hand stuffed with arrows - he had mentioned something a few days prior about running short.
"Got enough there?" you tease as he schleps the quivers into the common room and drops them on the couch.
"Barely," he grins. "Do you know how exhausting it is having to yank out used arrows on the battlefield? I know Tony can do something about that. But I think he likes to watch me sweat."
"How is he supposed to build re-homing arrows that pull themselves out of bodies, Clint?" you laugh.
"Not my job to know," Clint shrugs. "He's the one who figured out how to live with a Duracell in his chest cavity. I feel like re-homing arrows shouldn't be as difficult as that."
"He has a point," Natasha smirks.
You and Natasha share a laugh as Clint rolls his eyes and grabs his jacket from the rack near the archway.
"I'm bringing back dinner from the city tonight, Y/n! What are you in the mood for? Ribs? Shwarma?"
"You know me, Barton - I'll eat anything," you jest, always keeping one eye on the hallway. But the one man you're waiting for never shows up. To his credit, the rest of the day comes and goes, and Captain American isn't seen out of his quarters. Even as Clint brings back ribs and sides from the city, Steve never joins the group for dinner. Accepting defeat, you wait for the rest of the group to disperse before fixing up two plates.
You aren't necessarily trying to hide your interactions with Loki, but you aren't ready to deal with the questions that will inevitably come as a result. You don't trust the others to be as covert as Steve about your dalliance with the God of Mischief. In fact, beyond Steve and Thor, none of the others had any idea of your connection to the trickster upstairs. And to that end, you really aren't sure how much Thor knows.
Subtly carrying the two full plates to the elevators, you make the ascent to the tower.
"Open up, JARVIS," you callout. "I bring sustenance for the prisoner," you jest.
"Apologies, miss. But I cannot disengage the locks without the proper request."
"You're joking," you frown.
"I do not currently have jokes programmed into my protocols," JARVIS responds.
"Bull," you snark back. "I've heard you make jokes before."
"Correct, Miss," JARVIS answers. "But Master Stark removed them approximately three months ago, when my joke protocols engaged as he was fixing a rather small bolt on the inside thigh of the Mark III."
"Can't imagine what that joke could've been," you smirk sarcastically. "Well, whatever. RIP to your humor. Can you please let me in now?"
"I still require the formal lock override request, Miss."
With a heavy sigh, you roll your eyes and stare pointedly into the outer chamber security camera. "Fine," you huff. "JARVIS, will you pretty please open security door 1."
"Access granted," JARVIS replies.
"You know sometimes I think you're just messing with me," you grumble, pushing through the door and struggling to balance the two plates, cups, and two liter of soda you're carrying. "How do I know Tony hasn't left your sarcasm protocols-WOAH!"
Stepping through the threshold, your foot catches on the raised edge of the door. You stumble forward, prepared to drop all the things you're carrying when two strong, sturdy arms catch you instead - saving you, and the food.
Shocked, you look up and see Loki gazing down at you.
"Loki," you exhale, his name barely more than a phantom whisper as it slips off your tongue.
For a moment, you're frozen, held tight in Loki's arms as he balances both you, and the food he's managed to support. But you quickly come back to yourself as he helps you to regain your balance.
"Y/n," he says, your name saturated in deep remorse.
You set the food on the kitchen countertop and keep your back to the god as you let out a deep, calming breath. It takes a good amount of restraint to not turn around and smack him. Instead, you spin and throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body close to yours and burying your face in his neck. You breathe in deep, his scent overwhelming you with nostalgic familiarity.
"I am so mad at you." You whisper into his neck.
Loki hesitates, his body going stiff and rigid. But after a moment, he wraps his arms just as tightly around your waist. Together, you stand like that, not willing to let go lest he decide to disappear once more. You hold him until finally, your stomach growls.
"You're hungry, mortal," Loki whispers in your ear.
"I'd rather die of starvation then watch you disappear again." You mumble back.
Loki pulls your arms from around his neck, and takes your hand, guiding you to the kitchen. But you shake your head and pull him instead to the sofa, demanding he sit.
"You need to eat," he says.
"We need to talk first," you counter.
Loki lets out sigh. "You women and your talking. It will be the death of me."
You cast him a serious and reproachful warning glance, and he holds up his hands in surrender. "All right," he says. "Then let us speak."
"Okay, well, first of all...hello. It's nice to see your face," you say gently.
You reach up and brush your thumb along Loki's cheek. He smiles sadly at you.
"And second of all, what is your problem?" You give him a solid shove with both hands, causing him to fall backwards into the couch.
Loki's brow furrows in confusion as he rubs the shoulder where you shoved him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh please," you frown. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." Loki remains silent, but matches your gaze. You let out an annoyed huff, and continue. "Do you know how awful you've made me feel these last two weeks?"
"Darling, I-."
"No, I don't want to hear that," you say, interrupting. "I took a chance, Loki. I let you in my head. I showed you everything. Do you think it was easy for me to let you just waltz through my darkest, most painful memories?" you cry out, fighting to keep your voice steady.
Loki frowns and crosses his arms tightly against his chest, but says nothing.
"Do you think it was easy to re-live my trauma for you?" you continue. "Because it wasn't. I've tried for months to lock those memories away. To shove them into such a deep, dark pit that they would never see the light of day again. But I willingly resurfaced them. For you."
Your bottom lip trembles as even talking about your memories starts bringing flashes of broken faces and the echo of dripping water to the surface. You shake your head, pushing them away and refocusing on Loki as he shifts on the couch and stands.
"And you think this is easy for me?" he challenges, gaze narrowed. "You think that after centuries of detesting this realm, and all who inhabit it, that desiring a human is easy?!"
"Well it sure didn't seem too difficult for you a few weeks ago," you spit back.
Loki doesn't respond. Instead his jaw tenses as he grinds his teeth together, thinking. But you're not going to give him the time to make more excuses.
"I went out on a limb to try and show you that I trust you," you seethe, a single, silent tear rolling down your cheek. "And what did you do? You pulled away! You took one look at my past and you ran. You ran, Loki. Again!"
"I do not run," Loki sighs. "But...I do require time to think. Alone."
You let out a tearful scoff. "Well...as long as you have the time, Loki," you frown. "As long as your head is clear."
You wait for Loki to speak. but he says nothing. Disappointed, you let out a sigh and turn to head for the door. But Loki catches your hand, and tries to pull you to him. You resist, pushing his arm away. But his grip is iron strong. Persistent. You cast a glance over your shoulder when he refuses to drop your hand, and fix him with an angry, tear-filled glare.
"Stay," he says in a whisper. A command, softened by the air of a question. He drops your hand, but keeps his emerald gaze fixed on you.
"No, Loki," you answer. "You obviously need time to think."
Loki lets out a low chuckle, deep inside his chest. "My darling," he says. "All the time in the nine realms won't aid me in understanding this. In understanding you," he sighs, holding out his hand toward you.
A single tear rolls down your cheek as butterflies explode in your chest. Genuine green eyes plead silently with yours, so you place your hand gently in his and allow the god to pull you close. He holds you against his chest as with his other hand he uses his thumb to wipe away the tear that sits on the pillow of your cheek.
"I hate this, Loki," you exhale. "This push and pull. I just...you can't keep locking me out. I'm trying to help you."
"You must understand that I cannot be helped," Loki sighs. "The tapestries have been woven, my darling. My thread ends here. Odin will not change his mind. He will not bring me back."
"Odin?" you question.
"My...Thor's father," Loki says. "King of Asgard," he sneers. "He will not allow my return. Not this time."
"That's not true," you whisper. "He said you could come back."
Loki scoffs, disgust in his voice. But he pulls you closer as he speaks. "He has given me terms he knows I will not fulfill." Loki's lip curls into a small snarl. "He may take me from my home. He may withhold my birthright. But he will not steal my ascendency. I am no man's equal."
You bite your lip to keep from arguing. "You might change your mind," you offer instead. "But until then, I really am here to help you. No agenda. No mission," you assert. "I'm here right now because I want to be."
"I know," Loki whispers, his lips stirring your hair.
"Then just...don't block me out," you sigh, leaning into him. "Please. Stop doing that."
Loki falls silent. In the quiet he simply holds you. But you can't help that edge of unease that still sits beneath your heart. That tiny, sliver of guilt that's been gnawing at you ever since you asked Loki to read your mind.
You asked him to do that. He hadn't wanted to. But you insisted.
And whatever he saw hurt him.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. Loki glances down at you, a furrowed look of question set in his brow.
"For?" Loki questions.
"For whatever you saw in my head," you answer. "Whatever made you upset. I didn't know that...well, I mean, do you want to talk about it?"
Loki sighs deeply, and leans his cheek against the top of your head.
"It was not you, or your memories that caused me to turn away," says Loki, the humming of his voice in his chest vibrating against your ear. "Rather, it was knowing that once I had seen yours, I could never show you mine."
"I never asked to see your memories, Loki," you say, looking up at him. "I only asked you to let me help you carry your burden. Whatever form that takes - memories, or no memories."
Loki's brow furrows as he considers your words.
"I know you have secrets," you laugh, wiping away tears on the sleeve of your sweater. "You wouldn't be much of a God of Mischief without them now, would you?"
Loki lets out an unwilling smirk.
"But that doesn't mean that you have to go through life alone, with no one to trust. With no one on your side. Because there are more people on your side than you know."
Loki scoffs. "Like who, my brother?"
"Yes!" you say. "Thor let me read him, Loki."
"You've linked with him?" Loki asks, chest tensing beneath your cheek.
"No," placing a calming hand on Loki's chest. "Thor just let me use my Perception to better understand his feelings toward you."
Doubt clouds Loki's gaze.
"Are you serious?" you frown. "Loki, I know you know this. You saw my discussions with him in my memory. You felt what I felt, right?"
Loki hums, noncommittal.
"Well then you know he cares about you as his brother," you say. "You know he misses you."
Loki settles, and seems to ponder your point.
"And you've got me. I'm on your side," you say bashfully.
"But you do not even know who I am, what I've done," Loki sighs.
"Then tell me!" you plead. "That's what I've been begging of you this whole time! Whatever it is you think you're better off hiding from me, whoever you think you are that's so terrible, it's not going to change how I see you!"
"You don't know that!" says Loki, unwinding his arms from around you and giving you a gentle shove away as he moves to pace across the living room.
"Yes, I do," you urge.
"How?" Loki barks in contemptuous laugh. "How do you know?"
You fall silent, not sure how to answer.
"HOW?!" he shouts. You wince at the anger in his voice. Loki sees it, and sighs, defeated. "How?" he asks again, in a sad whisper.
You take a step closer to him, but Loki backs away. So you plant your feet, and find his eyes. "I don't know," you answer honestly. "But I'm sure of it. I can feel it."
A look of defeat passes Loki's face, and he quickly turns his back on you, hiding his face as he stares out toward the balcony. "And what if I can't bear the thought of how you might react to the truth? Hmm?" he challenges. "Have you ever thought about how I feel?"
"Of course I have," you say softly. "I've seen how you feel. And I know you're not happy. I know you're angry. But I know that anger is just a front. A cover for the years of loneliness and isolation. For the years of feeling like you can't be who you really are. But you can! You just have to be brave enough to open up to someone!"
Loki is silent and still for several moments. "And what if I can't tell you everything?" he says quietly.
"Then at least start somewhere," you plead.
"Fine. But do not say I did not warn you."
With his back to you, Loki straightens his posture, and he lets out a small grunt of pain as a very faint glow of green surrounds his body for only a fraction of a second. "Loki, what's wrong?" you ask.
Slowly, Loki turns toward you.
"Oh my God," you exhale.
Your heart beats so fast that it threatens to leap from your chest as Loki turns fully to face you, no longer the pale, smooth-complexioned Asgardian God you know, but a man of pale blue skin covered in markings with haunting, red eyes.
"Loki?" you whisper in question. But Loki doesn't speak. Doesn't answer. Doesn't even move. And he does not lift his eyes to meet yours. But you cannot tear your gaze from him.
Although unsettled, you find him...beautiful.
You cross to him. Slowly, and with great curiosity, you take one finger and trace the lines on his face. Running your finger down the side of his jaw, you stop at the neckline of his shirt. Reaching for his chin, you use two fingers to gently turn his face toward you so that his gaze finds yours, and you take in every dimension of his scarlet eyes.
"Can I see more?" you exhale, tracing your fingers down the blue skin of his neck, and letting them dip beneath the collar of his robes.
Loki doesn't answer, but he doesn't pull back as you slip your hand beneath his lapels. You slide his robe from his shoulders before reaching for the hem of his tunic and pulling it up and around his head. Your hands once more find their way to his chest, as if pulled by magnets. You continue to trace the faintly raised lines present on his blue flesh - stunned by their beauty. And you are amazed by the icy coldness so foreign to human skin.
Loki allows you to explore his body, but you can feel his apprehension grow as every second passes. After several long moments, you break your gaze from his chest and his abdomen, looking back up into his eyes.
"Is this...you?" you whisper. "Really you?" you question.
"You once asked what I am," Loki says, bright white teeth shining through pale blue lips. "This is who I am. What I am," he sneers. "I am Loki of the Jötnar."
Jötnar? you wonder, confused. But you're too overwhelmed to ask. Instead you simply drink him in a moment longer.
"Is this magic?" you finally ask. "Is that why I can't see you like this all the time?"
"Yes."
"But...you don't have your magic," you frown. "So...how?"
Loki scoffs. "A gift. From my mother, it seems," he says. "The allowance of just enough seiðr to remain concealed, lest the humans decide to kill the beast."
"No," you say sternly. "That wouldn't happen."
"Do you not see me?" Loki says, a dangerous grin spreading across his blue lips. "I am a monster."
Your heart breaks for the pain you can hear beneath the ice in his words. But you don't let your stance waver. Instead, you find his red eyes, and you smile. Confusion flashes across Loki's face.
"You are Loki," you whisper, "Prince of Asgard. God of Mischief. Nothing that I see here changes that."
Loki lets out a breath it seems he had been holding. "You are not afraid?" he asks.
"I have never been afraid of you," you answer, rising to your tiptoes, and placing a gentle kiss on his cold blue lips.
Quickly and eagerly, Loki rejects the chasteness of your offered kiss, pulling you in deeper and more passionately. Although this kiss is different from the others. No lust, only clearly conveyed intent. An apology.
You accept his apology, kissing back, gently running your fingers through his hair.
After a few minutes, you both pull away, but Loki places his icy forehead to yours.
"I was a fool," he whispers.
"Yes, you were," you laugh.
Loki smirks and picks you up. You wrap your legs around him as he carries you to the kitchen counter, setting you atop it next to the plates you brought.
"Come, my darling. You need to eat."
"It's probably cold by now."
"Believe it or not, that doesn't bother me," says Loki, prompting your laughter.
Together, you finish the food you had brought up, leaving little behind. As you throw away the cups and plates, Loki comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You turn to see that his complexion has returned to his normal, Asgardian paleness.
"Stay with me tonight," he whispers.
"Are you going to lock me out again in the morning?" you tease.
Loki leans in and gently nibbles at your earlobe. "I doubt I could if I tried. You are...persistent."
"Are you calling me stubborn?" you pout playfully.
Loki puts on a thinking face for a moment. "Yes," he smirks.
You laugh. The sound of it makes Loki smile. "Fine," you sigh dramatically. "I suppose I can stay for one night."
"Somehow I doubt one night will be enough," Loki whispers.
Turning in his arms, you smile as the God picks you up and carries you to his bedroom.