#loki laufeysonxreader

Loki stared at the wall and a panel next to the door. In the hopes of not gaining your attention, he tried to look utterly disinterested in the room you brought him into some time ago, but now he regretted not noticing how you opened the door.

He was sure you fished something out of your pockets. He just didn't think it could be something other than keys.

The panel didn't have any visible buttons, so guessing the code was out of the question. The whole thing seemed blended with the wall, as many things in the damned Tower did.

Loki left the matter of the door for later. The opposite side of the room held a large window, now looking more inviting than ever.

Loki grabbed a handful of chips on his way there. The sandwich you gave him earlier, although (surprisingly) not awful even with the heart on top, did little to completely satisfy his hunger. He sneered at the memory of it.

The window was big enough to allow a proper way out, Loki noticed with professional assessment. He had slipped through enough windows to know his own flexibility and the importance of right angles.

His heart dropped a little when he looked through it, only to find the night view over the shining city be a very high one. Loki wasn't really bothered by heights, but a look down the Tower's side made him hesitate a bit. He remembered he told you he wouldn't sneak out anytime soon, but it was important to know his options in advance, right? Besides, the drop wasn't even that steep, come to think of it…

He turned, a little guilty, when you walked back into the room. Peeling off the dirt and dried fluids of varying sources did wonders to your presentation, only for the effect to be immediately killed off by the disgusting gray outfit, twin to his own.

"What, you thinking about jumping out?" You asked as if reading his mind.

Loki didn't answer as you approached him, throwing your towel on a nearby chair. The chair didn't protest, already carrying a few items you forgot about. You peered outside.

"Damn, it's already snowing. I personally wouldn't recommend sliding out this way anytime soon."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You make it sound like you've already tried that."

"I made it 4 floors down before I got to the one without any good outside handles. I mean, there were a few, but I kinda slid by them, thanks to the frost."

"Was it worth it?" he asked with actual curiosity.

"It was a bet—of course it was worth it."

"I see."

He watched you settle on the bed, bringing all the food closer, and turning the TV on. A spare blanket was even found for him, and laid to your left. He had to ask, though.

"What do you plan on doing?"

"Watch something mind-numbing, eat, regret I ate so much, and go to sleep."

"Mind if I join?"

"You're my bestie, of course I don't mind."

With a tormented sigh, Loki laid on the mattress, pushing your legs to make more room for himself. "Is that really necessary? It's so crowded here."

"With your bloated ego, I'm surprised the Tower is capable of housing you at all."

He watched you fill your mouth without skipping a beat.

"Can't you use a plate? You're making a mess. I'm not going to sleep on the crumbs," Loki complained, brushing some off the sheets already.

"You can always sleep on the floor. I won't mind, it's all yours."

"I hate you."

"Can't blame you."

He took the muffin you'd been consuming out of your hand and finished it out of sheer malice. Your shocked face made him feel a little better.

"You truly are evil, Loki—to starve the injured and weak…"

"Don't call those few bruises an injury," he scoffed, gesturing to the few cuts on your cheek.

"A few bruises? You see this? My arm is going to kill me tomorrow!" You put your elbow in his face, showing a growing mark that already darkened a large patch of your skin.

It didn't hurt much yet—only when you touched it—but you had enough experience to know it was just the beginning. It was a surprise you could move the arm at all. You remembered falling on it quite a few times, so a broken bone or some joint injury could have been expected at least.

Loki pushed your arm out of his face. "You call that bad? Look at my poor ribs and guess whose knees are imprinted on them!"

He pulled on his shirt to reveal the damage, although he had to admit it wasn't as dramatic as he wished to. His stark white skin contrasted with the grayish bruise, but it looked like the damned bracelet didn't stop his body from healing faster than a regular human's. A few more hours and there would hardly be any trace left of it.

You laughed in his face. "Poor baby. At least I can say I didn't have any choice in that, as I was hauled into the trunk right after you. Do you want me to remind you of the time you basically threw one of those monsters at me? And pushed me off a bridge?"

"How many times do I have to remind your tiny little human brain that it wasn't my fault—"

"You're already looking for excuses—"

"Because normal arguments completely miss you—"

"Shut up, my phone is ringing."

If your hand didn't cut him off with a slap to his mouth, he might have made a remark about your injuries being an obstacle only when it suited you best. Instead, he had to resort to peeling it off his face while you looked for your buzzing phone through the blanket with the other one. Your so very painful injuries didn't seem to be slowing you down.

He stole another cupcake. It wasn't awful.

"Damn, Peter is facetiming us.” You seemed happy.

That alone made him wary. His mood only grew gloomier as the boy's cheery face appeared on the screen in your hand.

You moved closer to Loki to let Peter see the both of you. Loki's ribs were not spared in the process and neither were the sheets as the crumbs left his mouth along with an undignified whimper.

"My favourite teenager, you have no idea how happy I am you're not dead and Aunt May won't be hunting my ass anytime soon." You sent Peter a blinding smile. Loki only shot you a dark glare, trying to free his right arm from under your body.

"Yeah, it didn't go as bad as I thought," Peter laughed as well, although the cut on his lip made it visibly uncomfortable. "I'm just grounded forever, but I'm fine. I've got super-healing, remember?"

You sighed. "Why am I the only normal one here? It's unfair."

"I feel so sorry for you," Loki spit the words with venom coating every one of them.

Peter's face lit up immediately. It got bigger on the screen as the boy peered in closer.

"I'm so happy you're okay too, Mr. Loki! I'm so sorry we kinda dragged you into that, you probably hate our planet already, but it's not that bad all the time, there's plenty of—"

"Peter, how badly are you grounded?" You cut through his rambling, sparing Loki (and yourself) from the never ending stream of words.

"Well, I'm not dead, but if I'm one minute late back home, I might be," he admitted, earning a chuckle from Loki.

"But you're still going to school tomorrow?" you made sure. "I kinda want to grab some shawarma with my bestie, so you could join us during your lunch break?"

"That's so cool! There's a place I can get to in like 3 minutes, so it's a perfect—"

"When exactly did I agree to that?" Loki frowned.

You patted his bracelet. "When you didn't throw our friendship bracelet away."

"I told you I've already tried everything I can to get this thing off me."

"Sounds like a you problem."

Peter nodded silently from the screen, not really minding the fact he'd been forgotten for a moment.

A muscle shifted in Loki's jaw. He muttered with all the politeness he managed through gritted teeth, "And when exactly did your brave and just Avengers agree to that idea?"

"Tomorrow," you answered with all the confidence that had Loki's blood boiling. "Have you no trust?"

"In you? Please, don't get me started…"

You shifted your attention back to Peter, only to find him staring at the both of you with hearts shining in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," Peter said with a smile suggesting the opposite. "See you tomorrow, guys!"

"Huh." You looked at the suddenly dark screen. "He never hangs up so quickly."

Loki muttered something inaudible. He focused on feeding the rage within him with another cupcake. There weren't many left. You assessed the image.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Is watching a compilation of fails the Avengers wish could be erased from the surface of the world going to make you feel better? Thor's included."

Loki hesitated.

"Yes."

The internet was truly a wonderful place, if used right. That truth was only beginning to dawn on Loki, as just a few minutes through the videos worked wonders on his mood.

"How do you even come up with so much footage?" he dared to ask as the replay of Steve slipping on some loose debris during a fight played.

"It's the internet, darling. We've got footage of everything that ever happened on those streets and of a few things that never did."

"You're repeating yourself at this point," You sighed, stretching your legs under the table. "We've been at it for an hour already. I thought you weren't the one for speeches."

Steve shook his head silently, probably wishing you to stop. He positioned himself near the exit, as if there was anyone in the room stupid enough to try sneaking out.

You looked back to Loki. Well, you'd actually already made it out once.

The other Avengers assembled around didn't butt in, allowing all the harsh words to be said aloud. Some still had bruises and cuts needing to be tended to, but they stayed, creating a unified front.

Shame it was against Loki and you.

He didn't seem to mind. Sitting with his back straight, his face was a skillfully crafted expressionless mask. It was something you'd seen him do before, just as you'd seen him lose it for a few brief moments. You wondered how many years of meetings just like this one it takes to master creating such a mask.

You steadied your voice. At least Peter was not there.

"There was a threat. We answered it."

Steve sighed with resignation. "That's exactly the problem. You’d been told to stay in the Tower and keep an eye on Loki."

"Right. I forgot I should also let people die literally blocks away. Sorry, my memory is not what it used to be."

"This is not the time for sarcasm and jokes," Clint reminded you. You had a suspicion the bruise on his cheek would turn a beautiful shade of green by tomorrow. "You should have called us, or the police at the very least."

"Yeah, I should call the cops, but you had to go—wherever you went—with the whole team and Strange, yourself?" you scoffed. "Besides, I tried to call you. And so did Peter. Shame you didn't pick up."

Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder, stopping him from another rant. You did feel a little guilty about breaking your orders, but if you had to make the choice again, you'd do exactly the same thing. Rushing to someone's help was not something you ever regretted, and you weren't going to start now.

"By the way, how did you know where we were?" you asked, the thought having bugged you since it happened.

Steve gestured to your wrist.

"The bracelets have a GPS. The moment you left the Tower, we got the info."

Loki shot his bracelet a look of disgust. He started hating it even more.

"That's neat," you admitted. "Shame it still took you awhile to actually do something about it."

"We weren't sitting on our asses," Natasha surprised you, breaking in. "We were forced to stop a madman trying to break the borders between worlds. That's how the creatures you fought got into ours. The breakage happened throughout the world, but thankfully it was contained rather quickly in most places. Thor is still patching up some bigger holes, but Strange helped us get back here through his portals."

"Oh."

"Your 'oh' doesn't cover half of what happened," Tony pointed out. "We had no idea why both Loki and you left the Tower and how it was connected to those incidents."

"Well, sorry for not calling you earlier, I got caught up with hero work and, you know, kidnappers too. Literally."

"Speaking of which," Clint didn't even try to hide laugh from his voice. "How the hell did you end up in there?"

You kept your chin high. "My dearest side-kick and I decided that the day was still early after we killed the monsters, so we followed the men scraping off the things from the side, and got into their base to take them down. You know, the usual."

Loki raised an eyebrow.

Stark dragged a hand down his face, hoping it would ease some of the exhaustion he felt seeping down to his bones. It didn't work.

He asked as politely as he could, "And getting kidnapped by them seemed like the best way in, I suppose?"

Loki raised the other eyebrow too, looking at you with clear intent.

You ignored it.

"Obviously. It got us right where we wanted, and also allowed us to see if those really were the right guys. It was a brilliant plan."

Stark was breathing heavily with his eyes closed. You'd known him for years, but you still weren't sure if he would start shouting or laughing his ass off. The man was a mystery.

Steve shook his head with disbelief.

"And you decided to just, what? Tag along together?" he pointed to the two of you, seated at the opposite sides of the long, glass table.

Loki didn't answer. He knew this type of conversations was usually doomed from the start. Nothing he'd say would change those people's opinion of himself.

You looked at him.

"That turned out to be a good idea too."

Something passed through Loki's face, but it was gone with a blink. If your eyes weren't locked, you'd have missed it.

Tony stopped pacing and folded himself on a nearby chair. He didn't look like he had any strength left in him.

"I'm too tired to deal with you today. I vote on having this conversation done properly tomorrow."

You smiled your sweetest smile. "And I vote on just dropping this useless farce. Who's with me?"

You gave Loki The Look. He obediently raised his hand and enjoyed every second of disbelief on Tony's face as you raised from your chair and headed to the door with Loki by your side.

You waved the Avengers a goodbye. Steve didn't stop you. He wanted to say something, but you passed him too quickly to allow that.

Loki followed you in complete silence. At least, until you got out of their hearing range.

"May I inquire where exactly we are going?"

You strode confidently into another corridor, heading to the elevator.

"To the kitchen, my favourite side-kick. We're getting all the food we can carry and then finally enjoying a break from this nonsense. How does that sound to you?"

Loki opened his mouth, but the words weren't right. Not yet, at least. It had been a long day, and words like the ones prying their way onto his lips should be said under different circumstances.

"When exactly did I become your side-kick, though?" he asked instead.

"Why, from the very beginning, obviously. I've got more experience."

"I didn't notice that experience earlier."

"I don't like to boast about it."

He hid a smile. "Right."

"There's certainly less of a crowd, so, given the choice, I'd suggest we choose this path," he gestured widely in the direction of voices raising through the noise. The men wouldn't waste much time before setting off to search thoroughly through the warehouse.

"I hate you," you muttered through gritted teeth, allowing Loki to drag you with him, directly in between the cages.

"Don't worry, the feeling is mutual."

The logical part of you was aware that there was enough space for you two to go by the cages, just like many men must have done in the past, but the unquestionably human part of your brain cursed every step anyway.

The cages shook as the beasts circled the narrow, dirty spaces, already enraged by the howling noise rising through the warehouse. Impossibly long teeth flashed behind the thick bars, and razor sharp claws scratched the concrete floor, marring it with gaping wounds.

Loki's shoulders were tense, and he couldn't hide that fact. He unknowingly leaned lower, his steps quick, and eyes darting from one side to the other. Neither of you actually felt safe on this side of the bars.

You breathed out, every step on the verge of running. "When we get out—"

The crack rang through the air.

You froze; Loki's hand on your arm clenched so tightly you could feel the bruise forming. But it didn't matter now, not at all. Not as both of you stopped dead on your way out and slowly turned your heads, your breaths interlacing in the frigid, still air.

Another crack and the bars broke a little more. A clawed paw reached through the hole, bending it with all the anger only a too long, too hungry lock up could grant to a beast sensing fresh meat.

"I hate my life," you whispered.

Another crack and another bar gave out.

You didn't wait for what would come next, and neither did Loki. Forgetting your past bickering and differences, you ran for your lives, breaking any existing sprint records on your way.

You slammed into a heavy, metal door at the very end of the huge space. Loki reached for the handle only to find a lock hanging there. One that needed a key to be taken off.

"Bullshit," he cursed again, promising Stark a very drawn out, very painful death for sidelining his abilities and most of his Asgardian strength, that was based on magic flowing through his veins.

You reached for the biggest heavy object laying around and slammed it into the lock, wishing you could ignore the sounds of metal bars being torn and shredded like paper behind you. You brought it down again and again, until the lock was hanging to the side, but still not opening.

An echoing howl and a satisfied grunt behind your back told you enough. The other beasts were going mad in their cages.

With one last hit, the lock pried open at last, and before you even had the time to process the small victory, Loki pushed you through the crack headfirst. His back pushed you farther when he turned on his heel in a blur of colors to close the door.

The beast slammed into it.

The force of the impact threw you to the ground, Loki falling painfully next to you. You watched in terror as the thick metal door came off its hinges and fell. An endless void of teeth opened hungrily in the dark.

And then an energy blast shot right through it.

Slowly, as if in a dream turned nightmare, both your heads turned back, in time to see the Iron Man landing with a loud, dramatic thump.

The mask didn't hide his rage.

"Oh shit," Loki muttered. You couldn't agree more.

The man that left had threw some coins at your face, which gave you the perfect excuse to have your head turned to the side, as if in pain, or whatever people would focus on. You used it to pry the collar of your suit open with your teeth. Chewing on it enough for a very thin, very needed wire to come out, you were glad the last man left was standing far enough from you not to have a good angle at your doings.

Loki, on the other hand, did.

A mischievous smile grew on his lips, shaping them into a sharp, precise weapon.

"Are you completely sure this is how you want to spend your short, futile life?" he asked the man, focusing the attention on himself. He'd always enjoyed doing that.

The man didn't answer, immune to the god's charm. He had a bored, but calm expression, like his mind wasn't really there and he was fine with that. You'd never met anyone named Jeff, but that was exactly the type of person you always imagined would go by the name of Jeff.

Unaware of his rebirth, Jeff picked on his teeth in a manner that strived very far from any proper manners. If throwing a textbook of good manners at a person was ever justified, it was in a situation like this. Loki was sure all of his childhood tutors would agree. Silently, but agree.

You managed to pull the thin wire out of the fabric and drop it behind your back. You only had one chance to catch it with your tied hands, but you, luckily, managed that. The man didn't seem to notice. His last meal's remains must be way more interesting.

"Such a lowlife job seems like a lot of fun," Loki continued with his bruised chin up. "You must have plenty of occasion to prove what a disgusting creature you are deep inside. Kidnappings, illegal business… When was the last time you had a real talk with your conscience?"

Jeff smirked a dangerous, rotten smile.

You wanted to tell Loki to be careful, to watch his tongue, and not to go too far, but with the quiet manipulations of your hand prying the cuffs open, you couldn't bring attention to yourself just yet or it all would go to waste.

Loki's confidence didn't falter, even as a shiver ran down your spine. You had a bad feeling and no way of acting on it - the worst possible stress enhancer when it comes to stabilizing your hands. The lock was taking longer than it should, but you had to move carefully in order not to show it or lose the wire. It was a shame you couldn't do anything about the ropes tying your legs to the chair.

Loki let out a quiet laugh. It felt too smooth to be natural. It made you think of hours spent alone in a room, trying to perfect it.

"You're not much of a talker, are you? You must truly be a pleasure to work with."

The man huffed. It was not an aggressive sound, it was actually barely audible if you weren't listening closely enough. But the man followed it with a turn of his body and a step in Loki's direction, followed by another one and a few more.

Your fingers turned slippery, the moves sloppy. Your heart raced loud enough to be heard.

It was not the right time yet, you wanted to say. Just a few more minutes you could use on the lock, you tried to bargain with the inevitable.

But the sad truth was, no matter how brilliant a plan, life will catch it like an old, annoyed teacher, easily finding any and all mistakes and marking them in bright red.

The man stopped in front of Loki. Loki didn't fail to look charmingly relaxed.

"Did you come here for your first lesson on manners?" his smile was easy. "I promise I'll do my best to-"

"I know what you are."

The man fished out a thin blade from his pocket. If you weren't looking close enough, you would miss the movement.

Your throat tightened, almost cutting your air off. It was a stupid reaction, you were aware of that, especially since it was a literal god being threatened. Loki must be immune to anything the man could do, right? Besides, why would he damage someone his boss intended on selling?

The man raised the blade. "I really don't like guys like you," he said. "You think you can come to my planet and start a massacre and after a few months, walk the streets like nobody remembers that?"

Loki raised an eyebrow, not looking at all distressed. After all, it was far from the first time he's been threatened.

Jeff raised the blade. "That's why I make sure to be equipped with something worthy of guys like you."

The blade moved. It wasn't particularly big or lethal looking.

But it made Loki bleed.

Loki didn't gasp. He didn't even flinch, to be honest, which was caused more by the surprise of actually seeing his own blood than immunity to pain.

"What is it?" you blurted out before you managed to bite your tongue. One of the locks holding your hands in place was already open, but you were working on the second one.

Jeff's lips curved into a thin, pale line. You no longer wanted to call him such a common, normal name. He didn't deserve it.

"I've been a part of this business for long enough to take a hold on a few interesting scraps from the alien's ships and other garbage you all loose around a city when you demolish it, heroes and villains alike. I guess every job has its perks," he spat in Loki's face. “One of them is killing garbage like you.”

The lock came undone with a click louder than you intended to. The man's attention was drawn immediately to it.

You jumped forward. His fist flew over your head. The chair had been bolted to the floor, and it made your legs scream in pain when they twisted, still tied to it.

Your elbows hit the floor. It was an unfortunate position in general, but in your current situation, you could make it work.

You grabbed the man's ankles and made him lose his stance. You burrowed your nails in his legs, dragging him down.

A boot struck your stomach, but it wasn't enough. The man fell with a muffled curse.

He hit the floor. The knife was in his hand, clenched tightly around the hilt.

You grabbed it whole and, before he could react, pushed it into his arm. He jumped, and you locked his neck in a tight embrace. He trashed, and lost consciousness after what felt like ages.

Your breath was shaky, the adrenaline making the world seem too bright and too vivid. But no matter how much your mind needed time to process everything that happened, you didn't have any. The other man could come back any time.

Loki observed you in silence. The knife was slippery, but it cut through the ropes on your legs easily. Grimacing, you stood up. The blood painfully circulated in your limbs.

You heaved to Loki's chair and freed his legs too. You didn't talk as you manipulated the handcuffs. There was nothing to talk about. No matter what you considered yourself to be, life had a wicked way of forcing difficult decisions on people without any preparations. Whether you were a hero or a villain or none of that, sometimes life just sucked and all that was left was to move forward.

The cuffs landed on the floor with a metallic sound. Loki rubbed his hands together, feeling the uncomfortable stiffness. He dared a direct look at your face.

"What now?"

It was not what he wanted to ask, but it was all the tense air allowed.

"Onward, my dearest Prince. It's all that's left."

The adrenaline buzzed through pulsing veins, breaths were more shallow than you preferred. It would not calm you down, but hopefully prevent you from going rampant and forgetting something useful. 

Once you were ready, moments - eternity - too long - later, you allowed yourself a second of stillness. You could do it. No matter how many enemies came to New York this time, no matter how strong they were, you could stop them and any further bloodshed yourself. The boy said he was doing his best, but he could see the bodies already… 

You turned around. Loki stood in the door to your room. 

He took in the tension that held your muscles taut, pushing out any humor or carelessness. The golden time of jokes and harmless teasing passed, as all good things always do. It left only faint memories tinted in seconds of clarity and clouded emotions and a sense of a better side of life passing away beyond reach. 

"This is the moment when you have to decide what path you want to take," you said in a tight, almost breaking voice. "I can't choose for you." 

Loki looked at the metallic bracelets around your wrists. 

"What's going to happen once we leave the Tower?" 

"I have no idea." 

"But you're doing it anyway." 

"Yes." 

There was no time to waste, but you allowed him to weigh the options. 

He reached out to you. "Do you have any knives?" 

He took the few spare ones you had and joined you running to the elevator. 

The Tower's exit made you stop. 

It was a bright morning on the outside and what looked  to be a good beginning of a nice day. And yet, between you and that day where the monsters rummaged the city, stood a simple set of glass doors. 

Loki and you exchanged glances as the weight of the bracelets heaved on your wrists. They wouldn't explode. Why would Stark or Strange want them to hurt you leaving the Tower, right? Maybe paralyse at best. That would make sense. Or maybe send an alarm to someone. 

Right? 

You licked your suddenly dry lips and stepped towards the exit, Loki close behind. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, the same sort of worry that crawled through your insides, creeped into his voice too. 

"No. But this is the only one I have." 

Before you could think about it any further, you crossed the threshold. 

The bracelet let out a strong buzz through your arm and a high-pitched shrieking note. The tiny light on one side of it turned alarmingly red, but… nothing else happened. 

Loki nodded slightly, as if to himself and braced himself after you. His bracelet, and yours, reenacted the same sequence, but allowed you to leave. 

You didn't look back as you dived into the city. You ran through the streets, only beginning to get crowded. The few people wandering around jumped out of your way and you couldn't blame them. In full battlesuit, with your weapons visible, and a well-known god a pace away, that sight would stay with pedestrians for a while. 

The park Peter told you about was only two blocks away. The closer you were, the more fear you could see in people's faces. Some were running away. Some had blood on their clothes. 

Police sirens cut through the air.

The officers formed a line around the park entrance. That close, you could hear roars and smashing sounds. 

You flew past them, your feet carrying you at the speed of light. Some shots were fired, but where-

Something broad crashed into your guts from the side, throwing you to the left. 

The ground hit you hard. Your elbow screamed with pain. You rolled with the power of the strike, the air kicked from your lungs.

You pushed yourself to your knees just in time to see the strange, massive creature sprinting your way on four too long legs. It had a bone white structure on its head, perfect for slamming into whatever crossed its path. 

You put three bullets in it, but the creature didn't even slow. You jumped right as it neared you. You put two more in its side, but to no effect. 

The creature turned, its side bleeding a dense and oily black substance, and fixed two sets of very small, very evil eyes on you. 

The gun deemed useless, you took out a long, hunting knife. It was good steel, hardened and sharp, and thirsty for blood, no matter the color. 

The creature took a step forward, building speed to-

A huge concrete block slammed into it, burying it deep. An inhumane shriek sounded and ended abruptly. 

Peter jumped to you, his webs hanging from a lamp. His suit was torn and dusty, and his hands were shaking, but whether from pain or adrenaline, you couldn't tell. His head was constantly turning around, his body never still, panic sweating through his pores. 

"Oh god, we have a serious problem."

Loki just laid on the couch next to you, solemnly promising himself that was the first, and last pizza he would ever consume.

"Peteeer," you whined louder, with your right foot digging its way into the boy's stomach. "I'm serious."

The sun was barely visible over the slim buildings of New York. The sky was broad and painted with sweeps of dark blues, oranges, and reds. Even without a clock in hand you could tell the day was about to end.

Aunt May had very strict rules about coming home late, and even stricter about those who stood in her boy's way home.

The amount of energy consumed by making your head turn to face Peter's was ungodly. Your stomach groaned deeply in protest. You felt as if you had swallowed a ball and that ball didn't enjoy being swallowed.

"Peter, you know I love you unconditionally, but I can't drive you home today, because of reasons," you nudged the reason next to you, making it protest half-heartedly, "and that means it's gonna take you a moment to get home. You better start rolling down the stairs already."

Peter managed to open his eyes. He looked at his limpless body stretched on the couch doubtfully. "If I take the elevator, I'm gonna throw up."

"Use the stairs."

"We're on the 25th floor."

"Good luck on your journey. Don't forget your notes."

With a lot of mumbling and whining, the boy managed to collect all of his belongings scattered around the large room. He had some trouble moving with his usual swiftness, but as far as you were concerned, he found all items belonging to him.

Goodbyes took longer than you'd prefer them to, and judging by the expression on his face, so felt Loki. It was a nice sight, though. Loki visibly struggled in the boy's tight hug, but was nice enough not to mention it. You considered it a step in a good direction. (Next would be having brunch, but that could wait a moment. After pizza-time, none of you really held any desire for additional food in the near future.)

Once the boy left, you let out a deep sigh, melting farther into the couch. Loki didn't bother moving, so you ended up with his elbow buried in your side.

"Move that arm yourself, or I'm gonna do it for you," you promised with the faint echo of a threat.

Loki didn't seem bothered. "You can't even move a finger right now."

"Neither can you. I didn't know nordic gods could get so stuffed."

"Usually they aren't forced to consume so much against their will."

"I never forced you."

"Right, you only called it a challenge, my bad."

Loki apologized with his eyes closed. Hands neatly crossed over his chest, and legs stretched over the table; he looked peaceful, if not even serene.

Crumbs over his leather armor he refused to take off and the general disarray of the pizza and chicken nugget boxes over the table, couch, and floor around didn't do much to destroy the peaceful aura that seemed to surround him. It wasn't simply caused by anything he did, or said, or wore. It seemed to radiate from within him when he wasn't looking or carefully arranging the tough mask of his persona. At times like this, he seemed almost happy.

Loki opened his eyes, as if he somehow felt your gaze lingering over his features. The dying light of the day was weak enough to play tricks on your mind. In light like this, the green of his eyes seemed almost warm. In light like this, the shadows separating you seemed almost nonexistent.

Close enough to feel the warmth of his arm, you felt comfortable. If one called it a surprise, it would be a pleasant one.

Close enough to feel the rise and fall of your chest, Loki found himself not minding it. If one called it a surprise, it'd be a welcomed one.

Your hand rose.

He leaned closer.

A fingertip booped his nose, making him jolt in surprise. He blinked, his senses coming back in a rush.

"You gonna eat that pizza?" you motioned to the last two slices. "We've got the extra spicy sauce left, since Peter refused to even look at it."

Loki blinked, gathering himself, and raised an eyebrow. "The one he promised 'melts the gums off your teeth'? No, thanks."

"Coward."

"You're childish."

"At least I'm not a coward," you opened the box and poured the creamy sauce thick over the slices.

His eyes rolled back. He should start getting used to that gesture in your presence, but it proved not to be so easy.

Skeptical, he observed your actions.

"Give me one good reason to do it," he asked with a detachment in his voice that might have been confused with resignation, if one didn't listen closely.

"To have fun. You seem to be in dire need of it," you stated with a shrug. If one did listen carefully enough, it would resonate with high observation skills peeking through the surface.

Loki didn't listen closely. His focus was centered around the thick layer of doom. As a god, he was invulnerable to most mortal weapons and threats, which came in handy during fights or battles. As far as he was concerned, it also extended to most commonly used toxins.

Your smile was wicked. The fire in your eyes - challenging.

"No," said Loki.

"Chicken. It's just a sauce."

"I'm not interested."

"Alright, so sit back and watch a childish mortal prove more brave than your godly self."

"Now you're aiming at my ego."

"It's a huge target and I'm a terrible shooter. Can you blame me?"

Despite himself, he couldn't prevent a smile from shadowing over his lips. This whole day proved to be the exact opposite of what he'd expected coming to Earth in shackles, and he was happy about it. To be honest, he didn't expect it to be so… calm? Unthreatening? Despite himself, Loki felt comfortable.

He couldn't remember the last time he was able to simply exist, with no power crushing his will or guilt tripping him into obedience. He didn't have to think through every word coming out of his mouth, he didn't have to look out for cunning enemies observing his every step. No politics, no war, no trials.

For the fleeting moment (after all, what was a day to a being thousands of years old?) he could simply be Loki. Not Loki the Prince of Asgard, and certainly not Loki the Traitor.

Loki, the being in dire need of having fun, took one pizza slice and smiled the most wicked and honest smile he had in months.

"I dare you to take more than three bites," he teased.