abstractconcept (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abstractconcept) wrote2012-09-26 10:55 am
abstractconcept) wrote2012-09-26 10:55 am
Entry tags:
Fic: A Good Rogering (3/3)
Title: A Good Rogering (3/3)
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Loki Laufeyson (implied Clint/Natasha and some Tony/Bruce flirting in the background)
Betas:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snakeling
Prompt: Fordownbythebay_4 on the kinkmeme who requested: Steve/Any, first time; Before the war, Steve didn't take much interest in romance and after . . .
Word Count: 24,000+
Rating: R
Content: Humor, romance, bondage, blindfolding, hair-pulling.
Summary: Steve was always too busy fighting Nazis to worry about sex. All the same, he never expected his first time to be with a weird blue alien bent on the destruction of the human race. References to The Princess Bride, Back to the Future, and Sassy Gay Friend.
Part 3
Steve woke in the middle of the night with a start. He’d been having a good dream, a dream where Loki was normal. They’d been laughing about something, and then Steve had turned to Loki, and Loki reached out for him. Steve had felt a lurch of tenderness. “Loki,” he’d said. And Loki had replied, “Steve,” just ‘Steve,’ and reached out, caressed his face, his hand cool and gentle, and—
Something was wrong. Something had touched him, woken him. Steve sat up, panicked, and saw a dark shape beside him. Steve rubbed his eyes, heart pounding. “What the hell are you doing here?” he gasped.
Loki was sitting beside him on the bed. “You called my name,” the man replied quietly.
“I didn’t. I was asleep.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I was asleep,” Steve repeated.
“Nevertheless, you called my name, so I tried to wake you. I’m sure Jarvis has video, if you insist. Jarvis, please bring up any recording you have of Captain Rogers calling my name in his sleep, and overlay it with violins, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“No!” Steve yelped. “That’s not necessary. That won’t be necessary.” He gulped. “You play dirty.”
Loki smiled. “It’s in my nature.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
Loki made a fluid, dismissive gesture with one hand. “Banner and Stark are in the family room. Banner is, I believe, asleep. Stark is grossly inebriated.”
“You got Tony drunk?” Steve felt a rush of anger.
“I did nothing. Mr. Stark wished to toast his departed father. I gather that today is the anniversary of his passing. It brought your friend into a strange and rather volatile mood.”
“Oh, God.” Steve dropped his head in his hands. “How bad is he?”
“I cannot surmise, with the peculiar metabolism of Midgardians, but Banner did insist he drink several glasses of water. And after awhile he seemed to spend himself and is now calm and on the verge of sleep, I think.” Loki smiled bitterly. “We spoke at great length. It seems difficult familial relations transcend the differences in our respective cultures.”
Steve stared at him. He and Tony had bonded over what Natasha sneeringly called ‘daddy issues?’ Steve never would have imagined that. Loki still had the power to surprise him. He reached out and put a hand on Loki’s shoulder, about to ask him if he wanted Steve to get him some water or return him to his room, when the man looked at him.
Loki’s face twisted. “Foolish, is it not?” He looked away. “I wanted to be the . . . the favorite, the pet, the hero, just once.” Loki shook his head a little. “I had little aptitude for it.”
Steve maintained a tactful silence.
“What do you think?” the man asked. “Had my fahter loved me better, would we be here, now, having this discussion? Tell me the truth, Captain. You’re known for being such an upstanding, honest man, among other things.”
Steve knew Loki was being a bit sarcastic, but it didn’t matter. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “I think you’re incredibly needy and there wasn’t much your father could have done to meet your needs. Because it isn’t about him. It’s your own insecurity reflecting this—this dark reality back at you. And I could sit here and lie and tell you that you’re perfect—heck, the whole damn universe could worship you—and it wouldn’t make a difference. You wouldn’t feel any better. You’d still see the same guy in the mirror.”
Loki looked at him, eyes widening.
Steve couldn’t tell if he was offended or hurt or just plain disbelieving. He swallowed.
“Sorry. But that’s really how I feel.”
“Well. That is honest, is it not?” Loki turned away. “I suppose, then, the war was lost before there was even a battle.”
“I didn’t say that,” Steve insisted. “But if you want to stop feeling like crap—and believe me, I can tell you feel like crap—then you have to stop fighting imaginary enemies out here and focus on the real enemy in there.” Steve tapped him gently on the chest. Loki looked down at his finger. “That’s where the real war is. That’s where you win or lose.”
“I see.” Loki twisted a smile in Steve’s direction. “I cannot say if that is the sagest counsel I’ve ever heard, or merely the rankest gibberish.”
Steve laughed. “You know, I’m a bona fide Captain. I’m not the smartest guy you’ll ever meet, or even the strongest or fastest. But I know a lot about war and strategy.”
Loki’s smile became a little more genuine at this. “This is true.” He looked down at his hands, chained in gold.
“Why did you come in here, anyway?” Steve asked. “To talk about—Tony? And your dad?”
Loki laughed. “Not at all. I merely—I enjoy your company. Separation from my people—even if it was a separation I chose—sometimes leaves me feeling lost.”
Steve squirmed.
Loki shifted on the bed just a little, looking Steve up and down. “And I know you are not one who will spurn my company.” He reached out and touched Steve’s mouth. Steve grabbed his hand, held it there. For a long moment they just looked at each other. Steve realized he was holding his breath.
Loki smiled.
Steve briefly shut his eyes, reveling in the fact that Loki’s hands were cool, but Steve’s lips seemed so very warm. He allowed himself a moment just to enjoy the feeling of someone touching him this way, lighting a fire in his belly. Then he opened his eyes. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he groaned.
Loki looked amused. “Is this your quaint Midgardian taboo against homosexual relations again? It really is a most random prohibition, is it not?”
“It’s not exactly that,” Steve murmured against Loki’s skin.
“Mmhmm.” Loki lowered his hands, looking at Steve seductively. “Touch me,” he whispered.
“You’re in chains,” Steve objected.
“That makes it all the more titillating.” Loki offered Steve his manacled hands.
Steve licked his lips. If Loki was all right with it . . . he grabbed the cuffs and jerked them over Loki’s head, hesitated, then leaned forward, kissed him hard. Loki moaned into the kiss, his body pliant, every inch of him a surrender. It felt good to have him so close. There was something empowering in seeing him like this, having him in Steve’s grasp, vulnerable. Steve kissed him again and again. He kissed Loki’s cheek, his chin, his throat.
“I cannot understand why any could object to this,” Loki gasped.
Steve pulled back and looked at him, mesmerized. Even Loki’s normally pale face was flushed with high passion. “Some people think God said not to,” Steve explained feebly.
Loki smiled, eyes glittering impishly. “Well,” he huffed, leaning forward, “This God has no issue with it.” He lowered his hands, forcing Steve to do the same. The message was clear; his submission was a game only, and one where the rules could be changed without notice. Steve had control because Loki allowed it. Why the fuck did that knowledge only turn Steve on more? He could take Loki, pin him to the bed, fuck him silly. He could tangle a fist in Loki’s hair, force his head up for a kiss, knowing all the time that Loki wanted it every bit as much as Steve did, maybe even more.
I shouldn’t I shouldn’t I should. Steve gave up and gave in as Loki kissed him. It wasn’t what Steve expected at all—it was gentle, like Steve wasn’t some kind of super soldier that couldn’t even be injured by normal weapons, let alone a pair of lips. Ah, but these lips were dangerous, Steve realized as he melted into the kiss. Loki wasn’t just there, in front of him, kissing him. Loki had gotten in. Past his defenses.
Steve pushed him roughly away. “It isn’t right,” he sighed. He couldn’t take advantage. Even if he really, really wanted to.
Loki let go of his hands, holding his own up in a gesture of surrender. “You may protest that your reluctance involves your disgust at kissing another male, but I cannot help but wonder,” he told Steve quietly.
“I told you; that isn’t it. It’s just . . . you’re . . . Loki.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m—”
“Pure as the driven snow,” Loki finished bitterly.
Steve glared. “Don’t be an ass.”
Loki lowered his hands. “You oughtn’t worry. Like my brother, I’m sure you will never be sullied. Your perfection is built into your very bones. But I assure you, I’ll not try to taint you again.” He swept up and made a move toward the door, but Steve grabbed him from behind.
Instead of flaring up at Loki’s barb, Steve felt himself grow tired. “Are we really going to do this again?”
Loki kept his back to the man. “Do you deny you want me?” he asked. There was something odd about his voice—some unevenness that Steve couldn’t read.
Steve looked at Loki’s straight back, his stiff, curled-in shoulders, the way he looked straight ahead. “No,” he finally answered. “I want you more than I think I’ve wanted anything. But you’re not in a position to say no, and . . . and you’re the enemy. How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”
Loki breathed out, tension draining away, and turned to Steve. “I could give you my solemn word, for whatever it’s worth. I want you. I cannot envisage a situation where I would choose to destroy you, not when I want you so much. I need not be your mortal enemy,” he continued. “Could we not . . . comfort each other?”
“It’s—I—” God. If Steve was so moral, so ‘good,’ why couldn’t he just say no? It would be wrong. There were dozens of reasons not to do this, and no real good reason that he should want to. Loki wasn’t the love of his life. They weren’t having some epic romance. They were just two men who needed a fuck. Loki wouldn’t dance with him, wouldn’t stay with him, wouldn’t love him.
Steve found he didn’t care.
They kissed again, more urgently this time. Steve grabbed Loki’s hips, yanked him close, grinding against him. Loki opened his mouth, inviting Steve’s tongue in. Steve whimpered as Loki’s tongue danced around his own, a slippery suggestion of further intimacy ahead.
Finally, Loki squirmed away. “Let me unclothe you,” he commanded.
“Yes, please.” Steve sounded short of breath and much too eager. He wished he had better self-control. Then Loki began undoing his fly, and Steve stopped thinking. He watched as Loki tugged his underwear down. Steve could feel his face turn red, but Loki wasn’t looking at his face.
Just as Loki’s hand closed around Steve’s cock, the door burst open. A wild-looking Tony stood, backlit by the light in the hall. “Fuck,” Tony said. Steve scrambled to turn away and rebutton his fly. “What the fuck are you doing in here? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he shouted at Loki.
“Banner had fallen asleep and you were, and I quote, ‘three sheets to the wind.’” Loki shrugged innocently. “I came in here so I could be . . . properly supervised.”
Steve hoped like hell Tony hadn’t noticed what they were doing. He seemed too far gone to care, though, his voice slurred, eyes squinting.
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have run off. I needed to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Okay. Okay. So. One Christmas I told my dad I wanted a Transformer and you know what he told me? He told me I was too old to get toys for Christmas. He said if I wanted one so badly I could make it myself!” Tony pointed a finger in the air. “Well, guess what, Dad? I did. So there!” He turned and stomped away, Steve and Loki staring after him in astonishment.
Steve looked at Loki with raised eyebrows. All Loki could do was shake his head.
“AND YOU KNOW SOMETHING ELSE!?” Tony shouted from down the hall. “FIFTEEN YEARS OLD IS NOT TOO OLD TO PLAY WITH TOY ROBOTS!” Tony stomped away again. “I showed them,” he mumbled. “I showed them all.”
“Well, that effectively killed whatever sensual atmosphere I’d managed to create.” Loki sighed. “Perhaps we’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” Steve said.
***
Something woke Steve up. Something ringing. Shrilly. Repeatedly. Steve pulled the covers over his head and tried to burrow under his pillow. It was no good. Finally Steve rolled over and grabbed up his cell phone. “Mph?” he said.
“Morning, sunshine,” Natasha’s voice said. “Meet me in the library in ten.”
Before Steve could respond, she disconnected. He glared at the phone, then rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to happen. He was a lot stronger than Natasha, but she was quick and damned clever. He knew if he didn’t get make it to the library there would be hell to pay, and he probably wouldn’t even see it coming. He sighed and got up.
Ten minutes later he skidded into the library at high speed. “Sorry, the elevator took longer than I thought,” he said.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. She was reclining on a sofa, thumbing through a Portuguese book on history. She was halfway through. Steve wondered if she could really read Portuguese and, if she could, whether she’d really read half the book. “Wow, that’s service for you,” she remarked. “I tried that on Tony once and he said, ‘Screw you; I don’t get up before 2:00 on weekends.’ You didn’t have to rush,” she added.
Steve frowned. He could see Loki in an overstuffed armchair, long legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. He’d been trying to avoid getting in a compromising situation with Loki; this mostly meant avoiding the man altogether.
“What’s up?” he asked Natasha.
She jerked a thumb at Loki. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on Princess, over there. Tony and Pepper have a big meeting in Beijing, and Clint and I have plans today.”
“Oh. Are you going out on a date?” Steve couldn’t tell if the two were actually interested in each other or not. They seemed to spend a lot of time together, but both agents played their cards close to their vests.
“Date?” Natasha grinned. “We’re busting up a weapons ring. But if Clint’s lucky, I’ll get him a bouquet of uzis.”
“Be still, my heart,” Clint said from the door. He grinned widely. “Let’s shake a leg.” As Natasha got up and joined him, he added, “You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
“You’d better believe it.” She looked smug, giving Steve a nod as they left.
Steve cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. With Tony, Clint and Natasha gone and Thor on Asgard, he had only Loki and Bruce for company. “Where’s Dr. Banner?”
Loki nodded to another couch. “Let him rest. He has one of those vile Midgardian viruses that cause him to convulse and expel mucus from various orifices.”
“You mean like a cold?”
“I assume. Pathetic little creatures that you are, to be felled by such simple measures.” Loki didn’t sound especially contemptuous; his voice was almost fond. He licked his finger and turned a page in his book. “I spent half the morning rubbing sticky mentholated . . . goo on his chest and urging him to take one of the many remedies Stark offered, to no avail.”
Steve looked around; beside Bruce’s prone form there was a coffee table completely jammed with bottles and tubes and lozenges and Kleenex, some used. He wasn’t surprised at Tony’s generosity; even the library had mostly been built because Bruce liked to read. “Did you finally convince him to take something?” he asked.
“Sadly, no.”
Bruce rolled over. “I leard a hard lesson aboud pudding udwarraded stuff id by body.”
“You what?” Steve didn’t understand half of that.
Bruce just groaned, grabbed another Kleenex and blew his nose hard.
“I think he’s trying to convey his distaste at treating himself unnecessarily with remedies he thinks may be questionable,” Loki said. “In light of his history, I mean.” He looked at Bruce expectantly. “Yes?”
“Kide ob,” Bruce hedged.
Loki rested his chin on his hand. “If that’s not an accurate enough translation, by all means, continue to attempt making your point. Perhaps charades would help. How many syllables?”
“Shud ub,” Bruce replied. “I’ll stick to natural rebedies.” He rolled over and in just moments, he was snoring.
“He must really be sick,” Steve commented quietly.
“Hopefully the rest aids his healing,” Loki responded. He went back to his book.
Steve studied him as he read. Loki enjoyed reading almost anything. Steve had given him a copy of the Bible once, but that had gone over like a lead balloon. Loki found it amusing and improbable, but Tony had objected strenuously. “Who gave you a copy of that?” Tony had demanded. “Are they out of their mind?”
Steve was hurt. “I was only trying to help,” he’d tried to explain.
“By giving him the Bible? That’s just sick, Steve. It’s bad enough that we have asshole humans twisting the thing, without having power-mad aliens using it for their ends! Bad, Steve. Bad idea. And what happens if he gets hold of some gullible moron who drinks his kool aid? We could have the worst cult ever on our hands! You need to think before pulling stuff like this.”
Loki had been fascinated by the whole exchange, but Steve had yet to catch him trying to use religion manipulatively. And he was much more interested in Shakespeare, at any rate. He read with almost supernatural speed, limpid eyes briefly glancing over a page before turning to the next. He was beautiful like this, intelligence glittering behind his eyes, his form graceful in repose. He picked up an art book and flipped through it, but kept sneaking looks at Loki. Every once in a while, he caught Loki looking at him. Steve wished Banner would wake up so they didn’t have to be alone together. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you admiring my form or do I merely have some foreign object on my face?” Loki asked without looking up.
Steve felt his face warm. “I was just wondering—what are you reading?”
Loki turned the page, then another. “Do you really wish to know?”
“Sure.”
Finally the man met his eyes. “Then come here,” he said, crooking a finger.
Reluctant, Steve got up and came over to Loki. There were no chairs nearby, so Steve sat at his feet. Loki smiled benevolently as though Steve were a pup who had learnt a new trick. “Here, now; I’ll read you some Wilde; the prose melts in one’s mouth like the finest French chocolates.”
Steve had to smile wryly at that. Loki had turned out to be a picky eater and liked the best in life; Tony was constantly complaining that Steve spoiled him by bringing in things like French chocolates.
Loki held the little red book aloft and began to read, “‘Well, on faded old damasked couches, on huge pillows made of priests’ stoles, worked by devout fingers in silver and gold, on soft Persian and Syrian divans, on lion and panther rugs, on mattresses covered with a variety of cats’ skins, men, young and good-looking, almost all naked, were lounging by twos and threes, grouped in attitudes of the most consummate lewdness such as the imagination can never picture to itself, and such as are only seen in the brothels of men in lecherous Spain, or in those of the wanton East.’”
Steve felt himself flush right up to his hairline. “It doesn’t really say that,” he hazarded. “You made it up.”
Eyebrows raised, Loki handed him the book without a word.
Steve read the passage. “Oh. It sounded like something you would make up.”
He couldn’t tell if Loki’s answering smile was pleased or amused. “Indeed. And here I was, led to believe that all Midgardians are uneducated prudes.”
Steve shook his head with a smile. “How are you holding up?” he asked after a moment, trying to change the subject.
Loki looked away. “I worry for my mother,” he admitted. He smiled, but bitterly. “It’s odd; my father is almost all powerful, and my brother, while stupid and impetuous, is a warrior without equal—and yet I worry all the same.”
“I think that’s natural.” Steve hesitated. “And your brother? Do you . . . do you worry about him?”
Loki looked offended for a moment, then let out a long breath. “I admit it would please me—if I could but sate my curiosity and know whether he is alive.”
There was an almighty crash and Steve sprang to his feet, the book dropping from his nerveless hands. Thor stood in the middle of the room, lightning crackling around him, wind whipping his hair across his face. “The Chitauri are here!” he shouted. “Prepare yourselves for battle!”
***
Bruce tried to get to his feet, but got tangled in his blankets, and fell off couch. Before any of them could say a word, Thor was gone, straight through the roof like bullet.
Steve spared Loki a brief glance, taking in his white face, his open mouth.
“He has such an impeccable sense of timing,” Loki said sourly.
“Yeah. Drama must run in the family,” Steve replied, and then he and grabbed Bruce under the arm and helped him up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Ready for action, Cap,” Bruce assured him.
“Jarvis, notify Tony and the others,” Steve commanded. He and Bruce ran out onto the balcony to assess the situation.
“They are already on their way, Captain,” Jarvis told him smoothly.
“Good.” Out on the balcony, Steve could make out Chitauri swarming over the city although, though he couldn’t be sure, there seemed to be somewhat less than last time. “Dr. Banner?” he said.
“Already od it,” Bruce replied, seething upward in rage. He wiped his green nose with the back of one mighty hand and knuckled into the fray. Steve wondered if he could get the Chitauri sick. It might be useful to know that sort of thing. Despite his illness, the Hulk seemed to be doing an amazing amount of damage, though as much of that was to the city as it was to their attackers.
Steve heard a noise behind him and spun just in time to punch a Chitauri and send it flying over the edge of the balcony.
Loki appeared in the doorway. “Remove these chains,” he said, holding his hands up. Steve hesitated. “Remove them now, that I might fight!”
Steve met his eyes. “You know I can’t do that.” Loki looked absolutely furious. He opened his mouth, but a Chitauri came between them. It moved toward Loki with purpose and Steve felt a cold rush of fear through his body; Loki was utterly helpless, and they were here for him. Could Steve fight them all off? And at what cost to the civilian population? The Chitauri struck and Steve saw Loki barely dodge the blow.
Angry, Steve leapt onto the creature’s back. He punched the thing in its neck, hard, and the Chitauri collapsed to its knees. Perhaps they could be beaten, even if it was just him and Thor and the Hulk.
Then the Chitauri reared.
It happened so fast, Steve just didn’t have time to process. Before he knew what was happening, he was cartwheeling through the air, then dropping, dropping like a stone. He was flung off the building, plunging to his death. Desperately, Steve scrambled to grab hold of something and stop his descent. Miraculously, his hand managed to catch something and he jerked to a stop. Steve looked up. At first he couldn’t tell what he was looking at—something lit. Then he realized he was dangling from the horizontal line in the ‘A’ gracing the building. Only his superior strength had given him the ability to grasp the surface without jerking an arm out of its socket.
Steve looked up and saw Loki’s face, white as a sheet, lips thin, fifteen feet above him.
Steve gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself up. No use; the surface was smooth and it was all he could do to keep his grip. He would slip before long. Above, he could hear Loki screaming for the Hulk. What the hell was he thinking? The Hulk hated Loki. He’d never . . . Steve saw the big, green guy from the corner of his eye, approaching at speed. He stopped at Loki’s side.
Calmly, Loki held up his shackled wrists and ordered, “Smash.”
Don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it, Steve begged silently. How could he have been so stupid? Of course Loki had been waiting for an opportunity just like this. How could Steve had been so stupid to think Loki might change—might actually care about him.
With a flick of a giant hand, the chains were broken.
Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. How could he prevail fighting the Chitauri and Loki? He searched frantically through his mind for some defense, some move, some way to fight back. He wished he had grabbed his shield. He looked around, trying to spot something he could use as a weapon or a way to save himself. What he saw made him freeze.
There, on the rooftop nearby, was a Chitauri with some kind of weapon, taking aim at Steve. For a split second, he considered letting go; if he dropped, he might be able to grab hold of something else. But before he had the chance, the Chitauri stumbled backward. There was a knife sticking out of its head. Steve couldn’t understand what had happened. He looked up and saw Loki conjure another knife out of thin air, jam it into the torso of an attacking Chitauri, and kick the beast away.
Then he appeared above Steve again. “Hulk!” he shouted. “Lower me!” As Steve watched in shock, the Hulk picked Loki up by one ankle and carefully lowered him over the balcony. “Take my hand,” he said.
Steve had been hanging for so long his limbs were going numb. It took him a couple of tries before he managed to grab Loki’s outstretched hand. The Hulk slowly lifted the two of them. Steve expected Loki to drop him at any moment, but the man’s hand held fast. He was struck by Loki’s strength, but even more by the man’s determination. He would not let Steve fall. He would not let Steve fail.
Once back on solid ground, Steve doubled over for a moment, his arm aching.
Loki guarded him, directing the Hulk to protect the perimeter. “Do you need a moment?” he asked.
“Naw.” Steve flexed and stretched. “I’m good.”
“Very well.” Loki crooked a finger and Steve’s shield hurtled toward them through a broken window. “I thought you might want this.”
At that moment, Steve could have made sweet love to that shield. He’d never known how naked and vulnerable he could feel without it. “Thanks,” he said. He stood back to back with Loki. “So what’s the plan?”
He could hear the smile in Loki’s voice. “Kill them all.”
***
An hour later, Tony showed up. By then it was all over but the cleaning. Clint and Natasha hadn’t gone far before they were called back, and Loki, who did know more about the Chitauri than Thor, knew a viable way of cutting them off from the Mother Ship and rendering them inactive. It hadn’t been easy, but the Avengers, minus Tony and plus Loki, had defeated the invaders again.
Steve sat on the balcony, getting his breath back and surveying the damage. It didn’t seem half as bad as the last time. The Avengers had learned from their prior encounter with the Chitauri and, as it turned out, the Chitauri had already lost a good percentage of their force on Asgard when they attacked it trying to find Loki.
Tony strode up to Steve, looking around like he was impressed.
“How was your meeting in China?” Steve managed a weathered grin.
“Boring. Looks like you guys had fun, though.” Tony looked around, armored hands on armored hips. “You didn’t save anything for me?”
“Plenty of rubble to clear away,” Steve suggested.
“Sheesh. I shouldn’t even have bothered doing Mach-8 the whole way back. I could have stopped at McDonalds or something, taken my time.”
Steve nodded. He knew the truth, though; flying back must have been hellish for Tony, knowing they might all die before he could reach them. “It’s okay. I had this one.”
Tony patted his shoulder. “You sure did.” The mask rose and Tony grinned widely. “From now on, I’m not even getting out of bed unless there’s at least a hundred thousand aliens. Anything less and you’re on your own.”
Steve laughed.
Bruce came over, his hair and body a uniform grey from dirt and debris.
“How ya feeling, sport?” Tony asked.
“Actually, pretty good. Really pretty good.” Bruce scratched his head. “Better than I did earlier, in fact. I don’t feel like I’m about to sneeze or have the need to blow my nose at all.”
“Wow.” Steve was impressed. “Looks like we finally found a cure for the common cold.”
Bruce laughed weakly and looked out over the damaged city. “Sure. Turn into a giant green asshole and destroy the city. Yeah, the F.D.A.’s really going to go for that.”
“Well, I think I’m going to take Lady Godiva here back inside and get him some pants,” Tony interrupted. “Sound good, pants? You remember those? That item of clothing that goes from the waist to the ankles and covers up our dangly bits? Not that I especially mind your dangly bits, per se, but I think on the whole, the rest of the city has had enough trauma for one day.”
Bruce laughed. “Sure, Tony. Let’s go get some pants. I could use a shower, too.”
Tony led Bruce away. “We’ll see if the water’s still working. Otherwise I’ll fly you out of the city or something. We’ll go somewhere nice. Pick up some McDonald’s, too.”
“I’d like a Frosty,” Steve heard Bruce say as they headed back inside.
“That’s Wendy’s, not McDonald’s.”
“You can fly from here to China but a Wendy’s is too far out of the way?” Bruce’s voice was amused.
“Fine, I’ll get you a Frosty,” Tony replied with faux exasperation. “Jesus. You know, you’re really high maintenance.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Steve smiled and turned away. He saw Loki standing at the edge of the balcony, ostensibly looking out over the city, but his eyes were dark and distant. He seemed troubled. Steve approached him hesitantly. “Hey,” he said. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Loki had saved his life.
Loki looked at him rather coldly. “Did you need something?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t take the opportunity to escape.”
Loki shook his head. “Yes. I noticed your surprise,” he said dryly, turning his face again.
Steve shifted from one foot to the other. Loki’s eyes could be as stormy as Thor’s when he was in one of his moods, but really, it only made him more attractive. Between his snowy skin and deep, expressive eyes, he really was made for drama. Steve had to know the truth. “Why did you save me?” he asked quietly.
Loki turned to face him, expressionless for a long moment. Then his mouth twisted into a self-mocking smile. “Sentiment,” he spat.
He spun on his heel and stormed away, leaving Steve staring after him in astonishment.
***
That night, Steve holed himself up in his room. He had a lot to ponder, and everyone else seemed to be in the mood to party. They were having a celebration downstairs.
Steve ignored the cheering and laughter floating up to him and laid back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling. His mind kept roiling, playing the same moment over and over again. What had Loki meant by ‘sentiment?’ Why hadn’t he let Steve fall? Was this all just part of another scheme? Had he done it merely to manipulate Steve? Maybe he figured that once he had Steve on his side, the others would follow.
Or had he—and Steve wasn’t sure he should even consider the idea—changed? Was it possible that he wasn’t a totally lost cause? Maybe Loki had genuine feelings for Steve.
Steve just couldn’t imagine it. Loki had done really bad things. He’d been a ‘servant’ of the Chitauri at the time, but that wasn’t much of a mitigating factor if you considered everything he’d done. Steve knew people could change. People did change. But Loki?
Maybe, just maybe, Steve shouldn’t write him off completely. Loki could have let Steve die—he could have killed Steve himself. He could have escaped. And instead, he’d stayed by Steve’s side, saved him and fought at his back, just like Steve’s loyal team used to do.
Steve smiled. It had been kind of nice, having Loki at his back. The man was tough as nails in battle, strong and fearless and clever. And after he’d pulled Steve up, Steve hadn’t had a second thought about trusting him, not for the duration of the fight. He had trusted Loki.
For a moment, anyway.
Finally Steve got up. This was all moot, anyway. Now Thor would be bringing Loki back to Asgard, and all Steve was doing was wasting what little time he had left with the man. Sure, maybe they didn’t have some epic romance, with sunsets and violins and dances, but maybe they could part as something like friends.
He quickly combed his hair and tromped downstairs. Everyone was gathered in the living room, sprawled across furniture, drinking champagne and laughing. They were watching what appeared to be a rather shaky home video.
“See, Bruce, that’s when you asked the potted plant to marry you. You don’t remember, but it was a lovely ceremony,” Tony was saying. He had one arm around Bruce and the other around Pepper. “The bride was charming; as I understand it, her mother was a begonia. Best bouquet I’ve ever seen.” Bruce was on the screen, talking animatedly to a potted plant while the real Bruce laughed.
Steve stood behind the couch. “What are you watching?”
Tony craned his neck. “Oh, hey! Done sulking in your room, dripping with man-pain? Well, I guess that makes one of you.”
Bruce gave Steve a crooked grin, face red. “You remember that night we all got plastered? Clint took video with his cell phone and Tony had Jarvis upload it.”
Tony interrupted, pointing at the screen, “Oh! Steve—you’re gonna love this bit.”
A blurry, almost sideways Steve came onto the screen. Steve squinted and turned his head to the side. It was hard to make out what was going on. Then the camera righted and everything came into focus. There was Steve. And Loki. Dancing. Loki had a bejeweled tiara balanced crookedly on his head. They swayed together, completely out of time with the raucous tune playing in the background, slow dancing, spinning together in a drunken circle.
Steve stared. They looked right together. He realized the others were all looking at him expectantly and his face flushed. “What—what—why would you film this?” he asked Clint.
Clint, lolling across Natasha’s lap, counted the reasons off on his fingers. “One, it’s hilarious, two, it had to be documented for posterity ’cause historians are going to go apeshit if it ever gets out, and that leads me to three—” Clint grinned wickedly, “—it’s excellent blackmail material.”
Steve rolled his eyes. He looked around. They seemed to be missing a couple of people. “Where are Thor and Loki?” He felt a cold rush. “Have they returned to Asgard already?”
Tony laughed. “Thor’s feeling a bit drained after the battle so he’ll crash on the sofa. Loki’s upstairs in his room—sulking and dripping with man-pain,” he said dryly. “Thor, of course, is comforting him.”
“Ah.” Steve cleared his throat. “I think I’ll just go check on them,” he said sotto voce.
Tony grinned, not fooled. “Yeah, right. Whatever Pinks your Floyd, buddy. Give him a goodbye kiss for me. I, for one, will be glad as hell to get rid of that crazy alien.”
Steve headed upstairs, feeling trepidation. He knew Loki was offended that Steve had doubted him. He didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t have a lot of time to say it, anyway. They’d return to Asgard tomorrow; he should probably just say goodbye and leave it at that.
He approached Loki’s room, well, cell, really, considering the reinforced walls and the locks on the doors and the cameras everywhere, and found Loki and Thor sitting together and speaking in low voices. Loki’s head was bowed, his face troubled. Thor reached out and squeezed his shoulder. To Steve’s surprise, Loki didn’t push him away.
“All is well,” Steve heard Thor mutter.
“By what standard?” Loki replied.
“Your parents and friends still live and your enemies are defeated. Do you count that no victory?” Thor persisted.
Loki gave him a tired smile. “To quote a rather overwrought Midgardian song, ‘I’m only happy when it rains,’” he said wryly.
“If you wished me to be literal, I am certain I could arrange that.” Thor grinned. At Loki’s scowl he added, “No, brother, do not chasten me. I know it was merely a metaphor. Midgardians have funny turns of phrase.”
Loki looked up and spotted Steve in the doorway. He showed no expression at all, but body stiffened.
“Ah, another visitor,” Thor said, standing. “I must thank you for caring for my brother, Captain.”
“Oh. Uh. It was no trouble,” Steve said. He wiped his palms on his jeans and shrugged. “I mean, he saved my life today. I was lucky he was there.”
Loki ignored Thor’s sunny smile. “I suppose you’ve forgotten that the very reason your life was in danger was due to my presence, then,” he said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows.
“Well, it’s not like you could have left and spared me the danger,” Steve pointed out. “Being a prisoner and all, I mean.” He turned to Thor. “Would you mind if I, uh, had a minute alone with Loki?”
Thor grinned. “By all means. My brother is clearly in good hands with Captain America. You seem a good influence on him.” As he passed Steve in the doorway he paused and added, “In fact, Captain America might be the only one who is a . . . match for my brother.”
Steve blushed.
“If you’re finished being an imbecile, would you please leave?” Loki asked.
Thor laughed. “Calm your tits, brother. I meant no harm.” Loki glowered but said nothing.
Steve smiled weakly. “You’ve really got a handle on slang these days, haven’t you?”
Thor gave Steve a wink and left the two men alone.
Steve looked around the room. Loki had been there for a month, and the place had come to have his stamp on it. He had a bookcase with a dozen or so of his favorite books, a desk with a chess board, a backgammon set and a deck of cards, and hanging next to the bed was a picture—the picture Steve had drawn. It made Steve feel kind of warm and funny to look at it.
He smiled and sat next to Loki on the bed, but Loki turned haughtily away.
Steve reached out and took his chin and turned it back. “Hey,” he said. “Come on. Let’s not do this again.” He and Loki looked at each other for a long time without speaking. “Can I kiss you?” Steve finally asked.
Loki raised a brow. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Well, the shackles are off and it’s . . . it just seems more respectful this way. Like, getting actual consent from you instead of just tackling you the way I’d like to,” Steve said. “Now that you really, honestly have an actual choice, I’d like to know you’d like to. Of your own free will.”
Loki was unimpressed. “That isn’t what I meant. I meant . . . why should you bother in light of the fact that you see me as a murderous wretch, ready at any moment to turn on you and hurl you from a building?” Loki’s face was expressionless. “Admit it; you expected me to betray you.”
“And you proved me wrong,” Steve replied firmly.
Loki shrugged. “Perhaps, but you would be a fool to turn your back on me, would you not?”
Steve smiled. “So I don’t turn my back on you. I keep you where I can see you.” He reached up and brushed a thumb across Loki’s jawline. “More fun for me that way, anyhow.”
Loki arched a brow.
“You really want to keep fighting? We have one night before you go back to Asgard.” Steve lowered his hand. If Loki didn’t want this, he didn’t want this. All it proved was that Steve was right not to press the issue when Loki was a prisoner. “I’d like to at least part as friends,” he suggest. “Can we do that? Shake hands and part as friends?”
Loki looked down at the hand Steve offered, then up at Steve. His eyes glittered. He launched himself at Steve, knocking him back against the pillows.
Steve opened his mouth to ask what was going on, and found it filled by Loki’s tongue. He moaned softly, surprised and a little on edge. The truth was, he was probably never going to stop thinking of Loki as dangerous.
On the other hand, that was kind of arousing.
Loki clambered atop him, straddling his legs. He took Steve’s hands and forced them above his head. Steve moaned again, and Loki let out a soft growl of satisfaction. He pulled back, his eyes raking Steve appraisingly. “With such a feast before me, I wonder where to start,” he murmured. “The sensitive skin beneath your ear? Your mouth, just begging to be explored? The vulnerable, quivering flesh of your abdomen?” Loki trailed one leisurely hand down Steve’s body, skimming his cheek, his lips, his throat, the swell of his chest. Without warning, he stopped and sharply pinched one of Steve’s nipples, sending a thrill of pain.
Steve gasped, bucking and instinctively trying to jerk his arms free. To his surprise, he found he couldn’t break loose. Loki was only using one hand to hold him, and his appearance didn’t betray any particular effort. Steve had forgotten how strong the man was. The knowledge sent adrenaline coursing through him. The mixture of alarm and arousal was dizzying.
Loki smirked down at him. “Come now; is this not what you wanted? You said you wished to stop fighting.”
Steve laughed nervously. “We both know that isn’t what I meant.”
Loki leaned down, his long hair falling forward, brushing Steve’s face, a dark silken curtain hiding them from the world. “Do you not trust me?” he whispered.
Oh, hell. Steve swallowed. “Yeah. I trust you.”
Loki sat back a little. “Then you shall find it is not such a hardship to wear chains, so long as your master is one you trust.”
Steve wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he couldn’t deny that he was turned on. And at least Loki knew what he was doing, which was more than Steve could say.
Loki reached into the nightstand and pulled something out. Steve didn’t look at it; he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from Loki’s. The man reached up, winding it around Steve’s wrists—and the metal headboard. Holy crap. Then Loki sat back, admiring his work. Surreptitiously, Steve tested the fabric. It gave just a little, and he stopped. Whatever it was, he could break out if he had to, and that was all he needed to know. Beyond that . . . this was Loki’s show. He’d do his best to just enjoy it.
“I always knew you would be lovely, bound. Next time I’ll find chains more fitting for a man of your rank. Something with sapphires, I should think,” Loki murmured. He kissed Steve once more before pulling away. “I think it lacks a certain something, though.” He reached into the drawer again and came up with a silk tie. He slowly slipped it around Steve’s head, blindfolding him.
“I didn’t imagine my first time would be quite so exotic,” Steve said as tactfully as he could. Hot as this was, it was also weird.
Loki laughed. “I want only to make it memorable, my pet,” he said. He kissed Steve again, roughly, nipping his lower lip hard enough to draw a noise of protest from Steve. Then he worked his way down Steve’s body, tongue dancing over Steve’s skin, unbuttoning his shirt with clever fingers.
Steve felt cool air as Loki unzipped his pants. He felt incredibly exposed like this, not able to see and not knowing what Loki would do next. His breath caught as Loki unclothed him. He felt Loki’s cool hand slide up his thigh, making Steve’s cock twitch. Steve let Loki push his legs apart; he could feel the man settle between his knees. He hoped to God he hadn’t made a mistake. Loki could do anything to him right now, absolutely anything, and Steve wouldn’t even see it coming.
He felt Loki’s hot, wet mouth engulf his prick. Steve groaned at this unexpected pleasure. Loki began to suck his cock, his hands cupping Steve’s balls. “Oh, God,” Steve gasped. He couldn’t help thrusting up into Loki’s mouth, but the man didn’t seem to mind. He could have stilled Steve’s hips with one hand, Steve knew, but he didn’t, swallowing Steve right down to the root, throat convulsing and taking him all in. Steve nearly came off the bed. It took all of his will power not to rip an arm loose. He wanted, more than anything, to fist a hand in Loki’s hair and hold him in place. He felt Loki’s tongue swirl around the head of his cock. “Please,” he grunted. “If you—you can’t—I’m gonna come.”
Loki pulled away, laughing softly. “Ah, yes. I forgot the eagerness that comes with inexperience.” Steve’s face flamed. “A moment,” Loki told him. Steve could hear the man fumbling for something, but he didn’t know what was happening. The blindfold kept him in a state of exhilarating tension.
He felt Loki’s hand grip the base of his cock, angling it, before he was slowly encased in wet, silken heat. God, it was so tight. Was he—? Steve moaned. His entire body quivered with the effort of remaining still.
Loki put a trembling hand on Steve’s chest. “Don’t move,” he gasped. “Not yet.” Steve felt Loki’s legs on either side of him. Gradually, the man became comfortable enough to move, rocking, sliding, rising and falling on Steve’s cock.
“More,” Steve begged.
Loki’s pace quickened, long hands splayed on Steve’s chest. Steve thrust up as Loki sank down. He couldn’t believe how good it felt; he wanted more. His whole being ached with it; he wanted to grab Loki around the waist and slam him down.
“Fuck. Please, I have to—” Steve choked. “I need to touch you. I need to take you.”
He could hear the snarly-smile in Loki’s voice. “Do it,” he commanded.
Steve jerked his arms free and tore off the blindfold. Loki seemed surprised and delighted that Steve found this so easy. Steve bore him backward, throwing him down on the bed. They struggled for a moment, not a playful sparring this time, but an earnest contest for domination. Steve knew Loki would not respect an inferior. He gave up and did what he’d been longing for; he seized Loki by the hair, pulling his head back, and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into Loki’s mouth. The man wrapped his legs around Steve, holding him close.
Finally Loki broke the kiss and they paused, panting.
The look in Loki’s eyes gave Steve an uneasy feeling that while he’d pinned Loki, he still wasn’t the one who’d won the confrontation.
“Take me, then,” Loki ordered. Steve was amazed that he could be so commanding, so in control, even with Steve’s fist full of his hair.
Steve kissed him again, then took one long leg, hiked it over his shoulder, trailed a hand down its pale expanse. He wanted to see Loki’s face, wanted to watch his expression as Steve fucked him. He positioned himself and pushed, slowly, watching Loki’s face flush. Steve tugged his hair, thrusting, watching Loki’s breath come faster, watching him writhe.
“Yes, that’s it,” the man breathed. “Yes. Right there. Harder. Harder.”
Steve did his best to comply, holding Loki down, slamming his cock into the man’s body again and again. Loki gave a breathless little cry at each thrust, the noise going straight to Steve’s cock.
Loki reached up, caressed Steve’s face, dragging a finger along Steve’s lips. Then he reached up and grabbed the back of Steve’s neck, forcing him down into another kiss. In Steve’s wildest dreams he’d never imagined it could be so good—hard and sweet and slick—
“Now,” Loki growled, and Steve felt himself climax.
He continued to thrust into Loki as long as he could, reaching down to pump the man’s prick. Loki cried out at this, head falling back.
Steve watched, marveling at the exquisite expression of Loki’s face, vacillating from ecstasy to pain as Steve continued to flex his fist in the man’s hair. Finally Loki gave a soft cry and stiffened, semen spurting from his twitching cock.
Steve finally loosened his grip of the man’s hair and collapsed beside him. “I haven’t been this out of breath in years,” he remarked.
Loki laughed, a little breathless still himself. He crawled over and rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. Steve shivered as Loki drew a finger lightly along the small of his back. “That was, I think, rather good for your first time. I am interested to see your progress in the future.”
Steve rolled over. The bed was damp with sweat. He wanted a shower, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was nice to lie here with Loki, spent and sated. “So . . . what happens next?” he asked with a little trepidation.
“I know not what the future holds,” Loki replied with a shrug. “Though I should like to bring you to Asgard; I could use a servant capable of meeting my exacting standards,” he teased.
“Very funny.” Steve thought about being with Loki. What did he even call him now? Boyfriend? Lover? Friend with benefits? He had no clue what he was doing. Maybe they could work, though. You never knew. They’d even started off with a dance, just like Steve had always wanted. “I’d kind of like to visit Asgard, though,” he admitted. “I’d like to meet your mother.”
“Mmmm,” Loki said drowsily. “If you’re going to get all serious about it, I suggest you bring a goat to sacrifice. Or perhaps my father would prefer to pay a dowry,” he added cynically. “I’m fairly sure he’d give you my mother’s best jewels if he could but get rid of me.”
“Don’t be such a martyr,” Steve murmured. He stroked Loki’s hair. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
Loki laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, little Midgardian.”
“Not sure I like ‘little’ in this context.”
“My apologies, pet. You were a very thorough and proficient lover.”
“Wow. An apology and a compliment.” Steve grinned. “Maybe your brother was right. Maybe Captain America is rubbing off on you.”
Loki looked up at him an arched a brow. “That’s not the kind of ‘rubbing off’ I want Captain America to do.” He trailed a hand down Steve’s chest, grazing his stomach, long fingers tracing his treasure trail. “What happens if,” Loki pondered, “rather than you rubbing off on me, some of my naughtiness rubs off on you?” His eyes were wicked and playful, his smile a promise of pleasures far into the night. He stroked Steve’s flaccid penis, smirking when the little soldier stiffened at his touch.
Steve moaned. He was really glad for the serum at times like this. He didn’t know if he could keep up with a demigod, but he was happy to try. He smiled. “A certain amount of corruption might be fun, too,” he said, and kissed Loki hard.
The End
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Loki Laufeyson (implied Clint/Natasha and some Tony/Bruce flirting in the background)
Betas:
snakeling Prompt: For
downbythebay_4 on the kinkmeme who requested: Steve/Any, first time; Before the war, Steve didn't take much interest in romance and after . . . Word Count: 24,000+
Rating: R
Content: Humor, romance, bondage, blindfolding, hair-pulling.
Summary: Steve was always too busy fighting Nazis to worry about sex. All the same, he never expected his first time to be with a weird blue alien bent on the destruction of the human race. References to The Princess Bride, Back to the Future, and Sassy Gay Friend.
Steve woke in the middle of the night with a start. He’d been having a good dream, a dream where Loki was normal. They’d been laughing about something, and then Steve had turned to Loki, and Loki reached out for him. Steve had felt a lurch of tenderness. “Loki,” he’d said. And Loki had replied, “Steve,” just ‘Steve,’ and reached out, caressed his face, his hand cool and gentle, and—
Something was wrong. Something had touched him, woken him. Steve sat up, panicked, and saw a dark shape beside him. Steve rubbed his eyes, heart pounding. “What the hell are you doing here?” he gasped.
Loki was sitting beside him on the bed. “You called my name,” the man replied quietly.
“I didn’t. I was asleep.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I was asleep,” Steve repeated.
“Nevertheless, you called my name, so I tried to wake you. I’m sure Jarvis has video, if you insist. Jarvis, please bring up any recording you have of Captain Rogers calling my name in his sleep, and overlay it with violins, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“No!” Steve yelped. “That’s not necessary. That won’t be necessary.” He gulped. “You play dirty.”
Loki smiled. “It’s in my nature.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
Loki made a fluid, dismissive gesture with one hand. “Banner and Stark are in the family room. Banner is, I believe, asleep. Stark is grossly inebriated.”
“You got Tony drunk?” Steve felt a rush of anger.
“I did nothing. Mr. Stark wished to toast his departed father. I gather that today is the anniversary of his passing. It brought your friend into a strange and rather volatile mood.”
“Oh, God.” Steve dropped his head in his hands. “How bad is he?”
“I cannot surmise, with the peculiar metabolism of Midgardians, but Banner did insist he drink several glasses of water. And after awhile he seemed to spend himself and is now calm and on the verge of sleep, I think.” Loki smiled bitterly. “We spoke at great length. It seems difficult familial relations transcend the differences in our respective cultures.”
Steve stared at him. He and Tony had bonded over what Natasha sneeringly called ‘daddy issues?’ Steve never would have imagined that. Loki still had the power to surprise him. He reached out and put a hand on Loki’s shoulder, about to ask him if he wanted Steve to get him some water or return him to his room, when the man looked at him.
Loki’s face twisted. “Foolish, is it not?” He looked away. “I wanted to be the . . . the favorite, the pet, the hero, just once.” Loki shook his head a little. “I had little aptitude for it.”
Steve maintained a tactful silence.
“What do you think?” the man asked. “Had my fahter loved me better, would we be here, now, having this discussion? Tell me the truth, Captain. You’re known for being such an upstanding, honest man, among other things.”
Steve knew Loki was being a bit sarcastic, but it didn’t matter. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “I think you’re incredibly needy and there wasn’t much your father could have done to meet your needs. Because it isn’t about him. It’s your own insecurity reflecting this—this dark reality back at you. And I could sit here and lie and tell you that you’re perfect—heck, the whole damn universe could worship you—and it wouldn’t make a difference. You wouldn’t feel any better. You’d still see the same guy in the mirror.”
Loki looked at him, eyes widening.
Steve couldn’t tell if he was offended or hurt or just plain disbelieving. He swallowed.
“Sorry. But that’s really how I feel.”
“Well. That is honest, is it not?” Loki turned away. “I suppose, then, the war was lost before there was even a battle.”
“I didn’t say that,” Steve insisted. “But if you want to stop feeling like crap—and believe me, I can tell you feel like crap—then you have to stop fighting imaginary enemies out here and focus on the real enemy in there.” Steve tapped him gently on the chest. Loki looked down at his finger. “That’s where the real war is. That’s where you win or lose.”
“I see.” Loki twisted a smile in Steve’s direction. “I cannot say if that is the sagest counsel I’ve ever heard, or merely the rankest gibberish.”
Steve laughed. “You know, I’m a bona fide Captain. I’m not the smartest guy you’ll ever meet, or even the strongest or fastest. But I know a lot about war and strategy.”
Loki’s smile became a little more genuine at this. “This is true.” He looked down at his hands, chained in gold.
“Why did you come in here, anyway?” Steve asked. “To talk about—Tony? And your dad?”
Loki laughed. “Not at all. I merely—I enjoy your company. Separation from my people—even if it was a separation I chose—sometimes leaves me feeling lost.”
Steve squirmed.
Loki shifted on the bed just a little, looking Steve up and down. “And I know you are not one who will spurn my company.” He reached out and touched Steve’s mouth. Steve grabbed his hand, held it there. For a long moment they just looked at each other. Steve realized he was holding his breath.
Loki smiled.
Steve briefly shut his eyes, reveling in the fact that Loki’s hands were cool, but Steve’s lips seemed so very warm. He allowed himself a moment just to enjoy the feeling of someone touching him this way, lighting a fire in his belly. Then he opened his eyes. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he groaned.
Loki looked amused. “Is this your quaint Midgardian taboo against homosexual relations again? It really is a most random prohibition, is it not?”
“It’s not exactly that,” Steve murmured against Loki’s skin.
“Mmhmm.” Loki lowered his hands, looking at Steve seductively. “Touch me,” he whispered.
“You’re in chains,” Steve objected.
“That makes it all the more titillating.” Loki offered Steve his manacled hands.
Steve licked his lips. If Loki was all right with it . . . he grabbed the cuffs and jerked them over Loki’s head, hesitated, then leaned forward, kissed him hard. Loki moaned into the kiss, his body pliant, every inch of him a surrender. It felt good to have him so close. There was something empowering in seeing him like this, having him in Steve’s grasp, vulnerable. Steve kissed him again and again. He kissed Loki’s cheek, his chin, his throat.
“I cannot understand why any could object to this,” Loki gasped.
Steve pulled back and looked at him, mesmerized. Even Loki’s normally pale face was flushed with high passion. “Some people think God said not to,” Steve explained feebly.
Loki smiled, eyes glittering impishly. “Well,” he huffed, leaning forward, “This God has no issue with it.” He lowered his hands, forcing Steve to do the same. The message was clear; his submission was a game only, and one where the rules could be changed without notice. Steve had control because Loki allowed it. Why the fuck did that knowledge only turn Steve on more? He could take Loki, pin him to the bed, fuck him silly. He could tangle a fist in Loki’s hair, force his head up for a kiss, knowing all the time that Loki wanted it every bit as much as Steve did, maybe even more.
I shouldn’t I shouldn’t I should. Steve gave up and gave in as Loki kissed him. It wasn’t what Steve expected at all—it was gentle, like Steve wasn’t some kind of super soldier that couldn’t even be injured by normal weapons, let alone a pair of lips. Ah, but these lips were dangerous, Steve realized as he melted into the kiss. Loki wasn’t just there, in front of him, kissing him. Loki had gotten in. Past his defenses.
Steve pushed him roughly away. “It isn’t right,” he sighed. He couldn’t take advantage. Even if he really, really wanted to.
Loki let go of his hands, holding his own up in a gesture of surrender. “You may protest that your reluctance involves your disgust at kissing another male, but I cannot help but wonder,” he told Steve quietly.
“I told you; that isn’t it. It’s just . . . you’re . . . Loki.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m—”
“Pure as the driven snow,” Loki finished bitterly.
Steve glared. “Don’t be an ass.”
Loki lowered his hands. “You oughtn’t worry. Like my brother, I’m sure you will never be sullied. Your perfection is built into your very bones. But I assure you, I’ll not try to taint you again.” He swept up and made a move toward the door, but Steve grabbed him from behind.
Instead of flaring up at Loki’s barb, Steve felt himself grow tired. “Are we really going to do this again?”
Loki kept his back to the man. “Do you deny you want me?” he asked. There was something odd about his voice—some unevenness that Steve couldn’t read.
Steve looked at Loki’s straight back, his stiff, curled-in shoulders, the way he looked straight ahead. “No,” he finally answered. “I want you more than I think I’ve wanted anything. But you’re not in a position to say no, and . . . and you’re the enemy. How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”
Loki breathed out, tension draining away, and turned to Steve. “I could give you my solemn word, for whatever it’s worth. I want you. I cannot envisage a situation where I would choose to destroy you, not when I want you so much. I need not be your mortal enemy,” he continued. “Could we not . . . comfort each other?”
“It’s—I—” God. If Steve was so moral, so ‘good,’ why couldn’t he just say no? It would be wrong. There were dozens of reasons not to do this, and no real good reason that he should want to. Loki wasn’t the love of his life. They weren’t having some epic romance. They were just two men who needed a fuck. Loki wouldn’t dance with him, wouldn’t stay with him, wouldn’t love him.
Steve found he didn’t care.
They kissed again, more urgently this time. Steve grabbed Loki’s hips, yanked him close, grinding against him. Loki opened his mouth, inviting Steve’s tongue in. Steve whimpered as Loki’s tongue danced around his own, a slippery suggestion of further intimacy ahead.
Finally, Loki squirmed away. “Let me unclothe you,” he commanded.
“Yes, please.” Steve sounded short of breath and much too eager. He wished he had better self-control. Then Loki began undoing his fly, and Steve stopped thinking. He watched as Loki tugged his underwear down. Steve could feel his face turn red, but Loki wasn’t looking at his face.
Just as Loki’s hand closed around Steve’s cock, the door burst open. A wild-looking Tony stood, backlit by the light in the hall. “Fuck,” Tony said. Steve scrambled to turn away and rebutton his fly. “What the fuck are you doing in here? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he shouted at Loki.
“Banner had fallen asleep and you were, and I quote, ‘three sheets to the wind.’” Loki shrugged innocently. “I came in here so I could be . . . properly supervised.”
Steve hoped like hell Tony hadn’t noticed what they were doing. He seemed too far gone to care, though, his voice slurred, eyes squinting.
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have run off. I needed to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Okay. Okay. So. One Christmas I told my dad I wanted a Transformer and you know what he told me? He told me I was too old to get toys for Christmas. He said if I wanted one so badly I could make it myself!” Tony pointed a finger in the air. “Well, guess what, Dad? I did. So there!” He turned and stomped away, Steve and Loki staring after him in astonishment.
Steve looked at Loki with raised eyebrows. All Loki could do was shake his head.
“AND YOU KNOW SOMETHING ELSE!?” Tony shouted from down the hall. “FIFTEEN YEARS OLD IS NOT TOO OLD TO PLAY WITH TOY ROBOTS!” Tony stomped away again. “I showed them,” he mumbled. “I showed them all.”
“Well, that effectively killed whatever sensual atmosphere I’d managed to create.” Loki sighed. “Perhaps we’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” Steve said.
Something woke Steve up. Something ringing. Shrilly. Repeatedly. Steve pulled the covers over his head and tried to burrow under his pillow. It was no good. Finally Steve rolled over and grabbed up his cell phone. “Mph?” he said.
“Morning, sunshine,” Natasha’s voice said. “Meet me in the library in ten.”
Before Steve could respond, she disconnected. He glared at the phone, then rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to happen. He was a lot stronger than Natasha, but she was quick and damned clever. He knew if he didn’t get make it to the library there would be hell to pay, and he probably wouldn’t even see it coming. He sighed and got up.
Ten minutes later he skidded into the library at high speed. “Sorry, the elevator took longer than I thought,” he said.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. She was reclining on a sofa, thumbing through a Portuguese book on history. She was halfway through. Steve wondered if she could really read Portuguese and, if she could, whether she’d really read half the book. “Wow, that’s service for you,” she remarked. “I tried that on Tony once and he said, ‘Screw you; I don’t get up before 2:00 on weekends.’ You didn’t have to rush,” she added.
Steve frowned. He could see Loki in an overstuffed armchair, long legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. He’d been trying to avoid getting in a compromising situation with Loki; this mostly meant avoiding the man altogether.
“What’s up?” he asked Natasha.
She jerked a thumb at Loki. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on Princess, over there. Tony and Pepper have a big meeting in Beijing, and Clint and I have plans today.”
“Oh. Are you going out on a date?” Steve couldn’t tell if the two were actually interested in each other or not. They seemed to spend a lot of time together, but both agents played their cards close to their vests.
“Date?” Natasha grinned. “We’re busting up a weapons ring. But if Clint’s lucky, I’ll get him a bouquet of uzis.”
“Be still, my heart,” Clint said from the door. He grinned widely. “Let’s shake a leg.” As Natasha got up and joined him, he added, “You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
“You’d better believe it.” She looked smug, giving Steve a nod as they left.
Steve cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. With Tony, Clint and Natasha gone and Thor on Asgard, he had only Loki and Bruce for company. “Where’s Dr. Banner?”
Loki nodded to another couch. “Let him rest. He has one of those vile Midgardian viruses that cause him to convulse and expel mucus from various orifices.”
“You mean like a cold?”
“I assume. Pathetic little creatures that you are, to be felled by such simple measures.” Loki didn’t sound especially contemptuous; his voice was almost fond. He licked his finger and turned a page in his book. “I spent half the morning rubbing sticky mentholated . . . goo on his chest and urging him to take one of the many remedies Stark offered, to no avail.”
Steve looked around; beside Bruce’s prone form there was a coffee table completely jammed with bottles and tubes and lozenges and Kleenex, some used. He wasn’t surprised at Tony’s generosity; even the library had mostly been built because Bruce liked to read. “Did you finally convince him to take something?” he asked.
“Sadly, no.”
Bruce rolled over. “I leard a hard lesson aboud pudding udwarraded stuff id by body.”
“You what?” Steve didn’t understand half of that.
Bruce just groaned, grabbed another Kleenex and blew his nose hard.
“I think he’s trying to convey his distaste at treating himself unnecessarily with remedies he thinks may be questionable,” Loki said. “In light of his history, I mean.” He looked at Bruce expectantly. “Yes?”
“Kide ob,” Bruce hedged.
Loki rested his chin on his hand. “If that’s not an accurate enough translation, by all means, continue to attempt making your point. Perhaps charades would help. How many syllables?”
“Shud ub,” Bruce replied. “I’ll stick to natural rebedies.” He rolled over and in just moments, he was snoring.
“He must really be sick,” Steve commented quietly.
“Hopefully the rest aids his healing,” Loki responded. He went back to his book.
Steve studied him as he read. Loki enjoyed reading almost anything. Steve had given him a copy of the Bible once, but that had gone over like a lead balloon. Loki found it amusing and improbable, but Tony had objected strenuously. “Who gave you a copy of that?” Tony had demanded. “Are they out of their mind?”
Steve was hurt. “I was only trying to help,” he’d tried to explain.
“By giving him the Bible? That’s just sick, Steve. It’s bad enough that we have asshole humans twisting the thing, without having power-mad aliens using it for their ends! Bad, Steve. Bad idea. And what happens if he gets hold of some gullible moron who drinks his kool aid? We could have the worst cult ever on our hands! You need to think before pulling stuff like this.”
Loki had been fascinated by the whole exchange, but Steve had yet to catch him trying to use religion manipulatively. And he was much more interested in Shakespeare, at any rate. He read with almost supernatural speed, limpid eyes briefly glancing over a page before turning to the next. He was beautiful like this, intelligence glittering behind his eyes, his form graceful in repose. He picked up an art book and flipped through it, but kept sneaking looks at Loki. Every once in a while, he caught Loki looking at him. Steve wished Banner would wake up so they didn’t have to be alone together. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you admiring my form or do I merely have some foreign object on my face?” Loki asked without looking up.
Steve felt his face warm. “I was just wondering—what are you reading?”
Loki turned the page, then another. “Do you really wish to know?”
“Sure.”
Finally the man met his eyes. “Then come here,” he said, crooking a finger.
Reluctant, Steve got up and came over to Loki. There were no chairs nearby, so Steve sat at his feet. Loki smiled benevolently as though Steve were a pup who had learnt a new trick. “Here, now; I’ll read you some Wilde; the prose melts in one’s mouth like the finest French chocolates.”
Steve had to smile wryly at that. Loki had turned out to be a picky eater and liked the best in life; Tony was constantly complaining that Steve spoiled him by bringing in things like French chocolates.
Loki held the little red book aloft and began to read, “‘Well, on faded old damasked couches, on huge pillows made of priests’ stoles, worked by devout fingers in silver and gold, on soft Persian and Syrian divans, on lion and panther rugs, on mattresses covered with a variety of cats’ skins, men, young and good-looking, almost all naked, were lounging by twos and threes, grouped in attitudes of the most consummate lewdness such as the imagination can never picture to itself, and such as are only seen in the brothels of men in lecherous Spain, or in those of the wanton East.’”
Steve felt himself flush right up to his hairline. “It doesn’t really say that,” he hazarded. “You made it up.”
Eyebrows raised, Loki handed him the book without a word.
Steve read the passage. “Oh. It sounded like something you would make up.”
He couldn’t tell if Loki’s answering smile was pleased or amused. “Indeed. And here I was, led to believe that all Midgardians are uneducated prudes.”
Steve shook his head with a smile. “How are you holding up?” he asked after a moment, trying to change the subject.
Loki looked away. “I worry for my mother,” he admitted. He smiled, but bitterly. “It’s odd; my father is almost all powerful, and my brother, while stupid and impetuous, is a warrior without equal—and yet I worry all the same.”
“I think that’s natural.” Steve hesitated. “And your brother? Do you . . . do you worry about him?”
Loki looked offended for a moment, then let out a long breath. “I admit it would please me—if I could but sate my curiosity and know whether he is alive.”
There was an almighty crash and Steve sprang to his feet, the book dropping from his nerveless hands. Thor stood in the middle of the room, lightning crackling around him, wind whipping his hair across his face. “The Chitauri are here!” he shouted. “Prepare yourselves for battle!”
Bruce tried to get to his feet, but got tangled in his blankets, and fell off couch. Before any of them could say a word, Thor was gone, straight through the roof like bullet.
Steve spared Loki a brief glance, taking in his white face, his open mouth.
“He has such an impeccable sense of timing,” Loki said sourly.
“Yeah. Drama must run in the family,” Steve replied, and then he and grabbed Bruce under the arm and helped him up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Ready for action, Cap,” Bruce assured him.
“Jarvis, notify Tony and the others,” Steve commanded. He and Bruce ran out onto the balcony to assess the situation.
“They are already on their way, Captain,” Jarvis told him smoothly.
“Good.” Out on the balcony, Steve could make out Chitauri swarming over the city although, though he couldn’t be sure, there seemed to be somewhat less than last time. “Dr. Banner?” he said.
“Already od it,” Bruce replied, seething upward in rage. He wiped his green nose with the back of one mighty hand and knuckled into the fray. Steve wondered if he could get the Chitauri sick. It might be useful to know that sort of thing. Despite his illness, the Hulk seemed to be doing an amazing amount of damage, though as much of that was to the city as it was to their attackers.
Steve heard a noise behind him and spun just in time to punch a Chitauri and send it flying over the edge of the balcony.
Loki appeared in the doorway. “Remove these chains,” he said, holding his hands up. Steve hesitated. “Remove them now, that I might fight!”
Steve met his eyes. “You know I can’t do that.” Loki looked absolutely furious. He opened his mouth, but a Chitauri came between them. It moved toward Loki with purpose and Steve felt a cold rush of fear through his body; Loki was utterly helpless, and they were here for him. Could Steve fight them all off? And at what cost to the civilian population? The Chitauri struck and Steve saw Loki barely dodge the blow.
Angry, Steve leapt onto the creature’s back. He punched the thing in its neck, hard, and the Chitauri collapsed to its knees. Perhaps they could be beaten, even if it was just him and Thor and the Hulk.
Then the Chitauri reared.
It happened so fast, Steve just didn’t have time to process. Before he knew what was happening, he was cartwheeling through the air, then dropping, dropping like a stone. He was flung off the building, plunging to his death. Desperately, Steve scrambled to grab hold of something and stop his descent. Miraculously, his hand managed to catch something and he jerked to a stop. Steve looked up. At first he couldn’t tell what he was looking at—something lit. Then he realized he was dangling from the horizontal line in the ‘A’ gracing the building. Only his superior strength had given him the ability to grasp the surface without jerking an arm out of its socket.
Steve looked up and saw Loki’s face, white as a sheet, lips thin, fifteen feet above him.
Steve gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself up. No use; the surface was smooth and it was all he could do to keep his grip. He would slip before long. Above, he could hear Loki screaming for the Hulk. What the hell was he thinking? The Hulk hated Loki. He’d never . . . Steve saw the big, green guy from the corner of his eye, approaching at speed. He stopped at Loki’s side.
Calmly, Loki held up his shackled wrists and ordered, “Smash.”
Don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it, Steve begged silently. How could he have been so stupid? Of course Loki had been waiting for an opportunity just like this. How could Steve had been so stupid to think Loki might change—might actually care about him.
With a flick of a giant hand, the chains were broken.
Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. How could he prevail fighting the Chitauri and Loki? He searched frantically through his mind for some defense, some move, some way to fight back. He wished he had grabbed his shield. He looked around, trying to spot something he could use as a weapon or a way to save himself. What he saw made him freeze.
There, on the rooftop nearby, was a Chitauri with some kind of weapon, taking aim at Steve. For a split second, he considered letting go; if he dropped, he might be able to grab hold of something else. But before he had the chance, the Chitauri stumbled backward. There was a knife sticking out of its head. Steve couldn’t understand what had happened. He looked up and saw Loki conjure another knife out of thin air, jam it into the torso of an attacking Chitauri, and kick the beast away.
Then he appeared above Steve again. “Hulk!” he shouted. “Lower me!” As Steve watched in shock, the Hulk picked Loki up by one ankle and carefully lowered him over the balcony. “Take my hand,” he said.
Steve had been hanging for so long his limbs were going numb. It took him a couple of tries before he managed to grab Loki’s outstretched hand. The Hulk slowly lifted the two of them. Steve expected Loki to drop him at any moment, but the man’s hand held fast. He was struck by Loki’s strength, but even more by the man’s determination. He would not let Steve fall. He would not let Steve fail.
Once back on solid ground, Steve doubled over for a moment, his arm aching.
Loki guarded him, directing the Hulk to protect the perimeter. “Do you need a moment?” he asked.
“Naw.” Steve flexed and stretched. “I’m good.”
“Very well.” Loki crooked a finger and Steve’s shield hurtled toward them through a broken window. “I thought you might want this.”
At that moment, Steve could have made sweet love to that shield. He’d never known how naked and vulnerable he could feel without it. “Thanks,” he said. He stood back to back with Loki. “So what’s the plan?”
He could hear the smile in Loki’s voice. “Kill them all.”
An hour later, Tony showed up. By then it was all over but the cleaning. Clint and Natasha hadn’t gone far before they were called back, and Loki, who did know more about the Chitauri than Thor, knew a viable way of cutting them off from the Mother Ship and rendering them inactive. It hadn’t been easy, but the Avengers, minus Tony and plus Loki, had defeated the invaders again.
Steve sat on the balcony, getting his breath back and surveying the damage. It didn’t seem half as bad as the last time. The Avengers had learned from their prior encounter with the Chitauri and, as it turned out, the Chitauri had already lost a good percentage of their force on Asgard when they attacked it trying to find Loki.
Tony strode up to Steve, looking around like he was impressed.
“How was your meeting in China?” Steve managed a weathered grin.
“Boring. Looks like you guys had fun, though.” Tony looked around, armored hands on armored hips. “You didn’t save anything for me?”
“Plenty of rubble to clear away,” Steve suggested.
“Sheesh. I shouldn’t even have bothered doing Mach-8 the whole way back. I could have stopped at McDonalds or something, taken my time.”
Steve nodded. He knew the truth, though; flying back must have been hellish for Tony, knowing they might all die before he could reach them. “It’s okay. I had this one.”
Tony patted his shoulder. “You sure did.” The mask rose and Tony grinned widely. “From now on, I’m not even getting out of bed unless there’s at least a hundred thousand aliens. Anything less and you’re on your own.”
Steve laughed.
Bruce came over, his hair and body a uniform grey from dirt and debris.
“How ya feeling, sport?” Tony asked.
“Actually, pretty good. Really pretty good.” Bruce scratched his head. “Better than I did earlier, in fact. I don’t feel like I’m about to sneeze or have the need to blow my nose at all.”
“Wow.” Steve was impressed. “Looks like we finally found a cure for the common cold.”
Bruce laughed weakly and looked out over the damaged city. “Sure. Turn into a giant green asshole and destroy the city. Yeah, the F.D.A.’s really going to go for that.”
“Well, I think I’m going to take Lady Godiva here back inside and get him some pants,” Tony interrupted. “Sound good, pants? You remember those? That item of clothing that goes from the waist to the ankles and covers up our dangly bits? Not that I especially mind your dangly bits, per se, but I think on the whole, the rest of the city has had enough trauma for one day.”
Bruce laughed. “Sure, Tony. Let’s go get some pants. I could use a shower, too.”
Tony led Bruce away. “We’ll see if the water’s still working. Otherwise I’ll fly you out of the city or something. We’ll go somewhere nice. Pick up some McDonald’s, too.”
“I’d like a Frosty,” Steve heard Bruce say as they headed back inside.
“That’s Wendy’s, not McDonald’s.”
“You can fly from here to China but a Wendy’s is too far out of the way?” Bruce’s voice was amused.
“Fine, I’ll get you a Frosty,” Tony replied with faux exasperation. “Jesus. You know, you’re really high maintenance.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Steve smiled and turned away. He saw Loki standing at the edge of the balcony, ostensibly looking out over the city, but his eyes were dark and distant. He seemed troubled. Steve approached him hesitantly. “Hey,” he said. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Loki had saved his life.
Loki looked at him rather coldly. “Did you need something?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t take the opportunity to escape.”
Loki shook his head. “Yes. I noticed your surprise,” he said dryly, turning his face again.
Steve shifted from one foot to the other. Loki’s eyes could be as stormy as Thor’s when he was in one of his moods, but really, it only made him more attractive. Between his snowy skin and deep, expressive eyes, he really was made for drama. Steve had to know the truth. “Why did you save me?” he asked quietly.
Loki turned to face him, expressionless for a long moment. Then his mouth twisted into a self-mocking smile. “Sentiment,” he spat.
He spun on his heel and stormed away, leaving Steve staring after him in astonishment.
That night, Steve holed himself up in his room. He had a lot to ponder, and everyone else seemed to be in the mood to party. They were having a celebration downstairs.
Steve ignored the cheering and laughter floating up to him and laid back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling. His mind kept roiling, playing the same moment over and over again. What had Loki meant by ‘sentiment?’ Why hadn’t he let Steve fall? Was this all just part of another scheme? Had he done it merely to manipulate Steve? Maybe he figured that once he had Steve on his side, the others would follow.
Or had he—and Steve wasn’t sure he should even consider the idea—changed? Was it possible that he wasn’t a totally lost cause? Maybe Loki had genuine feelings for Steve.
Steve just couldn’t imagine it. Loki had done really bad things. He’d been a ‘servant’ of the Chitauri at the time, but that wasn’t much of a mitigating factor if you considered everything he’d done. Steve knew people could change. People did change. But Loki?
Maybe, just maybe, Steve shouldn’t write him off completely. Loki could have let Steve die—he could have killed Steve himself. He could have escaped. And instead, he’d stayed by Steve’s side, saved him and fought at his back, just like Steve’s loyal team used to do.
Steve smiled. It had been kind of nice, having Loki at his back. The man was tough as nails in battle, strong and fearless and clever. And after he’d pulled Steve up, Steve hadn’t had a second thought about trusting him, not for the duration of the fight. He had trusted Loki.
For a moment, anyway.
Finally Steve got up. This was all moot, anyway. Now Thor would be bringing Loki back to Asgard, and all Steve was doing was wasting what little time he had left with the man. Sure, maybe they didn’t have some epic romance, with sunsets and violins and dances, but maybe they could part as something like friends.
He quickly combed his hair and tromped downstairs. Everyone was gathered in the living room, sprawled across furniture, drinking champagne and laughing. They were watching what appeared to be a rather shaky home video.
“See, Bruce, that’s when you asked the potted plant to marry you. You don’t remember, but it was a lovely ceremony,” Tony was saying. He had one arm around Bruce and the other around Pepper. “The bride was charming; as I understand it, her mother was a begonia. Best bouquet I’ve ever seen.” Bruce was on the screen, talking animatedly to a potted plant while the real Bruce laughed.
Steve stood behind the couch. “What are you watching?”
Tony craned his neck. “Oh, hey! Done sulking in your room, dripping with man-pain? Well, I guess that makes one of you.”
Bruce gave Steve a crooked grin, face red. “You remember that night we all got plastered? Clint took video with his cell phone and Tony had Jarvis upload it.”
Tony interrupted, pointing at the screen, “Oh! Steve—you’re gonna love this bit.”
A blurry, almost sideways Steve came onto the screen. Steve squinted and turned his head to the side. It was hard to make out what was going on. Then the camera righted and everything came into focus. There was Steve. And Loki. Dancing. Loki had a bejeweled tiara balanced crookedly on his head. They swayed together, completely out of time with the raucous tune playing in the background, slow dancing, spinning together in a drunken circle.
Steve stared. They looked right together. He realized the others were all looking at him expectantly and his face flushed. “What—what—why would you film this?” he asked Clint.
Clint, lolling across Natasha’s lap, counted the reasons off on his fingers. “One, it’s hilarious, two, it had to be documented for posterity ’cause historians are going to go apeshit if it ever gets out, and that leads me to three—” Clint grinned wickedly, “—it’s excellent blackmail material.”
Steve rolled his eyes. He looked around. They seemed to be missing a couple of people. “Where are Thor and Loki?” He felt a cold rush. “Have they returned to Asgard already?”
Tony laughed. “Thor’s feeling a bit drained after the battle so he’ll crash on the sofa. Loki’s upstairs in his room—sulking and dripping with man-pain,” he said dryly. “Thor, of course, is comforting him.”
“Ah.” Steve cleared his throat. “I think I’ll just go check on them,” he said sotto voce.
Tony grinned, not fooled. “Yeah, right. Whatever Pinks your Floyd, buddy. Give him a goodbye kiss for me. I, for one, will be glad as hell to get rid of that crazy alien.”
Steve headed upstairs, feeling trepidation. He knew Loki was offended that Steve had doubted him. He didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t have a lot of time to say it, anyway. They’d return to Asgard tomorrow; he should probably just say goodbye and leave it at that.
He approached Loki’s room, well, cell, really, considering the reinforced walls and the locks on the doors and the cameras everywhere, and found Loki and Thor sitting together and speaking in low voices. Loki’s head was bowed, his face troubled. Thor reached out and squeezed his shoulder. To Steve’s surprise, Loki didn’t push him away.
“All is well,” Steve heard Thor mutter.
“By what standard?” Loki replied.
“Your parents and friends still live and your enemies are defeated. Do you count that no victory?” Thor persisted.
Loki gave him a tired smile. “To quote a rather overwrought Midgardian song, ‘I’m only happy when it rains,’” he said wryly.
“If you wished me to be literal, I am certain I could arrange that.” Thor grinned. At Loki’s scowl he added, “No, brother, do not chasten me. I know it was merely a metaphor. Midgardians have funny turns of phrase.”
Loki looked up and spotted Steve in the doorway. He showed no expression at all, but body stiffened.
“Ah, another visitor,” Thor said, standing. “I must thank you for caring for my brother, Captain.”
“Oh. Uh. It was no trouble,” Steve said. He wiped his palms on his jeans and shrugged. “I mean, he saved my life today. I was lucky he was there.”
Loki ignored Thor’s sunny smile. “I suppose you’ve forgotten that the very reason your life was in danger was due to my presence, then,” he said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows.
“Well, it’s not like you could have left and spared me the danger,” Steve pointed out. “Being a prisoner and all, I mean.” He turned to Thor. “Would you mind if I, uh, had a minute alone with Loki?”
Thor grinned. “By all means. My brother is clearly in good hands with Captain America. You seem a good influence on him.” As he passed Steve in the doorway he paused and added, “In fact, Captain America might be the only one who is a . . . match for my brother.”
Steve blushed.
“If you’re finished being an imbecile, would you please leave?” Loki asked.
Thor laughed. “Calm your tits, brother. I meant no harm.” Loki glowered but said nothing.
Steve smiled weakly. “You’ve really got a handle on slang these days, haven’t you?”
Thor gave Steve a wink and left the two men alone.
Steve looked around the room. Loki had been there for a month, and the place had come to have his stamp on it. He had a bookcase with a dozen or so of his favorite books, a desk with a chess board, a backgammon set and a deck of cards, and hanging next to the bed was a picture—the picture Steve had drawn. It made Steve feel kind of warm and funny to look at it.
He smiled and sat next to Loki on the bed, but Loki turned haughtily away.
Steve reached out and took his chin and turned it back. “Hey,” he said. “Come on. Let’s not do this again.” He and Loki looked at each other for a long time without speaking. “Can I kiss you?” Steve finally asked.
Loki raised a brow. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Well, the shackles are off and it’s . . . it just seems more respectful this way. Like, getting actual consent from you instead of just tackling you the way I’d like to,” Steve said. “Now that you really, honestly have an actual choice, I’d like to know you’d like to. Of your own free will.”
Loki was unimpressed. “That isn’t what I meant. I meant . . . why should you bother in light of the fact that you see me as a murderous wretch, ready at any moment to turn on you and hurl you from a building?” Loki’s face was expressionless. “Admit it; you expected me to betray you.”
“And you proved me wrong,” Steve replied firmly.
Loki shrugged. “Perhaps, but you would be a fool to turn your back on me, would you not?”
Steve smiled. “So I don’t turn my back on you. I keep you where I can see you.” He reached up and brushed a thumb across Loki’s jawline. “More fun for me that way, anyhow.”
Loki arched a brow.
“You really want to keep fighting? We have one night before you go back to Asgard.” Steve lowered his hand. If Loki didn’t want this, he didn’t want this. All it proved was that Steve was right not to press the issue when Loki was a prisoner. “I’d like to at least part as friends,” he suggest. “Can we do that? Shake hands and part as friends?”
Loki looked down at the hand Steve offered, then up at Steve. His eyes glittered. He launched himself at Steve, knocking him back against the pillows.
Steve opened his mouth to ask what was going on, and found it filled by Loki’s tongue. He moaned softly, surprised and a little on edge. The truth was, he was probably never going to stop thinking of Loki as dangerous.
On the other hand, that was kind of arousing.
Loki clambered atop him, straddling his legs. He took Steve’s hands and forced them above his head. Steve moaned again, and Loki let out a soft growl of satisfaction. He pulled back, his eyes raking Steve appraisingly. “With such a feast before me, I wonder where to start,” he murmured. “The sensitive skin beneath your ear? Your mouth, just begging to be explored? The vulnerable, quivering flesh of your abdomen?” Loki trailed one leisurely hand down Steve’s body, skimming his cheek, his lips, his throat, the swell of his chest. Without warning, he stopped and sharply pinched one of Steve’s nipples, sending a thrill of pain.
Steve gasped, bucking and instinctively trying to jerk his arms free. To his surprise, he found he couldn’t break loose. Loki was only using one hand to hold him, and his appearance didn’t betray any particular effort. Steve had forgotten how strong the man was. The knowledge sent adrenaline coursing through him. The mixture of alarm and arousal was dizzying.
Loki smirked down at him. “Come now; is this not what you wanted? You said you wished to stop fighting.”
Steve laughed nervously. “We both know that isn’t what I meant.”
Loki leaned down, his long hair falling forward, brushing Steve’s face, a dark silken curtain hiding them from the world. “Do you not trust me?” he whispered.
Oh, hell. Steve swallowed. “Yeah. I trust you.”
Loki sat back a little. “Then you shall find it is not such a hardship to wear chains, so long as your master is one you trust.”
Steve wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he couldn’t deny that he was turned on. And at least Loki knew what he was doing, which was more than Steve could say.
Loki reached into the nightstand and pulled something out. Steve didn’t look at it; he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from Loki’s. The man reached up, winding it around Steve’s wrists—and the metal headboard. Holy crap. Then Loki sat back, admiring his work. Surreptitiously, Steve tested the fabric. It gave just a little, and he stopped. Whatever it was, he could break out if he had to, and that was all he needed to know. Beyond that . . . this was Loki’s show. He’d do his best to just enjoy it.
“I always knew you would be lovely, bound. Next time I’ll find chains more fitting for a man of your rank. Something with sapphires, I should think,” Loki murmured. He kissed Steve once more before pulling away. “I think it lacks a certain something, though.” He reached into the drawer again and came up with a silk tie. He slowly slipped it around Steve’s head, blindfolding him.
“I didn’t imagine my first time would be quite so exotic,” Steve said as tactfully as he could. Hot as this was, it was also weird.
Loki laughed. “I want only to make it memorable, my pet,” he said. He kissed Steve again, roughly, nipping his lower lip hard enough to draw a noise of protest from Steve. Then he worked his way down Steve’s body, tongue dancing over Steve’s skin, unbuttoning his shirt with clever fingers.
Steve felt cool air as Loki unzipped his pants. He felt incredibly exposed like this, not able to see and not knowing what Loki would do next. His breath caught as Loki unclothed him. He felt Loki’s cool hand slide up his thigh, making Steve’s cock twitch. Steve let Loki push his legs apart; he could feel the man settle between his knees. He hoped to God he hadn’t made a mistake. Loki could do anything to him right now, absolutely anything, and Steve wouldn’t even see it coming.
He felt Loki’s hot, wet mouth engulf his prick. Steve groaned at this unexpected pleasure. Loki began to suck his cock, his hands cupping Steve’s balls. “Oh, God,” Steve gasped. He couldn’t help thrusting up into Loki’s mouth, but the man didn’t seem to mind. He could have stilled Steve’s hips with one hand, Steve knew, but he didn’t, swallowing Steve right down to the root, throat convulsing and taking him all in. Steve nearly came off the bed. It took all of his will power not to rip an arm loose. He wanted, more than anything, to fist a hand in Loki’s hair and hold him in place. He felt Loki’s tongue swirl around the head of his cock. “Please,” he grunted. “If you—you can’t—I’m gonna come.”
Loki pulled away, laughing softly. “Ah, yes. I forgot the eagerness that comes with inexperience.” Steve’s face flamed. “A moment,” Loki told him. Steve could hear the man fumbling for something, but he didn’t know what was happening. The blindfold kept him in a state of exhilarating tension.
He felt Loki’s hand grip the base of his cock, angling it, before he was slowly encased in wet, silken heat. God, it was so tight. Was he—? Steve moaned. His entire body quivered with the effort of remaining still.
Loki put a trembling hand on Steve’s chest. “Don’t move,” he gasped. “Not yet.” Steve felt Loki’s legs on either side of him. Gradually, the man became comfortable enough to move, rocking, sliding, rising and falling on Steve’s cock.
“More,” Steve begged.
Loki’s pace quickened, long hands splayed on Steve’s chest. Steve thrust up as Loki sank down. He couldn’t believe how good it felt; he wanted more. His whole being ached with it; he wanted to grab Loki around the waist and slam him down.
“Fuck. Please, I have to—” Steve choked. “I need to touch you. I need to take you.”
He could hear the snarly-smile in Loki’s voice. “Do it,” he commanded.
Steve jerked his arms free and tore off the blindfold. Loki seemed surprised and delighted that Steve found this so easy. Steve bore him backward, throwing him down on the bed. They struggled for a moment, not a playful sparring this time, but an earnest contest for domination. Steve knew Loki would not respect an inferior. He gave up and did what he’d been longing for; he seized Loki by the hair, pulling his head back, and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into Loki’s mouth. The man wrapped his legs around Steve, holding him close.
Finally Loki broke the kiss and they paused, panting.
The look in Loki’s eyes gave Steve an uneasy feeling that while he’d pinned Loki, he still wasn’t the one who’d won the confrontation.
“Take me, then,” Loki ordered. Steve was amazed that he could be so commanding, so in control, even with Steve’s fist full of his hair.
Steve kissed him again, then took one long leg, hiked it over his shoulder, trailed a hand down its pale expanse. He wanted to see Loki’s face, wanted to watch his expression as Steve fucked him. He positioned himself and pushed, slowly, watching Loki’s face flush. Steve tugged his hair, thrusting, watching Loki’s breath come faster, watching him writhe.
“Yes, that’s it,” the man breathed. “Yes. Right there. Harder. Harder.”
Steve did his best to comply, holding Loki down, slamming his cock into the man’s body again and again. Loki gave a breathless little cry at each thrust, the noise going straight to Steve’s cock.
Loki reached up, caressed Steve’s face, dragging a finger along Steve’s lips. Then he reached up and grabbed the back of Steve’s neck, forcing him down into another kiss. In Steve’s wildest dreams he’d never imagined it could be so good—hard and sweet and slick—
“Now,” Loki growled, and Steve felt himself climax.
He continued to thrust into Loki as long as he could, reaching down to pump the man’s prick. Loki cried out at this, head falling back.
Steve watched, marveling at the exquisite expression of Loki’s face, vacillating from ecstasy to pain as Steve continued to flex his fist in the man’s hair. Finally Loki gave a soft cry and stiffened, semen spurting from his twitching cock.
Steve finally loosened his grip of the man’s hair and collapsed beside him. “I haven’t been this out of breath in years,” he remarked.
Loki laughed, a little breathless still himself. He crawled over and rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. Steve shivered as Loki drew a finger lightly along the small of his back. “That was, I think, rather good for your first time. I am interested to see your progress in the future.”
Steve rolled over. The bed was damp with sweat. He wanted a shower, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was nice to lie here with Loki, spent and sated. “So . . . what happens next?” he asked with a little trepidation.
“I know not what the future holds,” Loki replied with a shrug. “Though I should like to bring you to Asgard; I could use a servant capable of meeting my exacting standards,” he teased.
“Very funny.” Steve thought about being with Loki. What did he even call him now? Boyfriend? Lover? Friend with benefits? He had no clue what he was doing. Maybe they could work, though. You never knew. They’d even started off with a dance, just like Steve had always wanted. “I’d kind of like to visit Asgard, though,” he admitted. “I’d like to meet your mother.”
“Mmmm,” Loki said drowsily. “If you’re going to get all serious about it, I suggest you bring a goat to sacrifice. Or perhaps my father would prefer to pay a dowry,” he added cynically. “I’m fairly sure he’d give you my mother’s best jewels if he could but get rid of me.”
“Don’t be such a martyr,” Steve murmured. He stroked Loki’s hair. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
Loki laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, little Midgardian.”
“Not sure I like ‘little’ in this context.”
“My apologies, pet. You were a very thorough and proficient lover.”
“Wow. An apology and a compliment.” Steve grinned. “Maybe your brother was right. Maybe Captain America is rubbing off on you.”
Loki looked up at him an arched a brow. “That’s not the kind of ‘rubbing off’ I want Captain America to do.” He trailed a hand down Steve’s chest, grazing his stomach, long fingers tracing his treasure trail. “What happens if,” Loki pondered, “rather than you rubbing off on me, some of my naughtiness rubs off on you?” His eyes were wicked and playful, his smile a promise of pleasures far into the night. He stroked Steve’s flaccid penis, smirking when the little soldier stiffened at his touch.
Steve moaned. He was really glad for the serum at times like this. He didn’t know if he could keep up with a demigod, but he was happy to try. He smiled. “A certain amount of corruption might be fun, too,” he said, and kissed Loki hard.
The End
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