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It was a well-known fact that while Thor was a mighty warrior, his brother Loki was a skilled sorcerer. It was also a well-known fact that while Thor was surrounded by warriors of a similar mind as he, Loki had but one close companion with whom he could truly bond with.
Stark had been the son of the King’s court sorcerer, and so when Loki showed an aptitude for magic, it had been with Stark that Loki had begun his studies. But it had been millennia since he and Stark had been children learning magic tricks, and they had become much more than that.
Loki had quickly discovered Stark’s wit to be sharper than any blade in his father’s armory, and his tongue as smooth and dexterous in spinning tall tales and lies. A trait the liesmith had found very intriguing.
In fact, it was Stark who became the only person (with the exception of his mother Frigga, of course) to whom Loki could not spin a convincing lie. If ever he tried, Stark would simply arch a single eyebrow while smirking into his ale and Loki would know he had been found out.
As they entered manhood, Loki saw he was not the only one to notice Stark. Numerous maids seemed to swoon over Stark’s words, despite the fact he was not a warrior like Thor or any of his companions. Loki soon began to inform Stark that his tongue was so deft that it could untie the tightest of corset knots.
Stark had only grinned.
When Stark had gone missing in the harsh tundra of Jotunheim for several months and had even been declared dead, Loki had been inconsolable, using his magic for all sorts of spiteful acts. It had only been the return of his fellow sorcerer that had put Loki at ease.
But Stark had not returned unscathed; a grave injury had been done to his heart, and there was a shard of the Tesseract permanently lodged in the god’s chest. Thor had teased Stark, claiming that enemy forces would always be able to see the sorcerer. Rather than take the warrior’s mocking to heart, Stark had fashioned himself a magnificent suit of armor through which he could harness the power of the Tesseract. Loki thought Stark’s use of the Tesseract to achieve flight had been a very nice touch.
Well, anything that made the warriors eat their ham-fisted words make Loki smile, and Stark had a flair for making it happen more often than not. It was only natural that the two mages were the best of friends, plotting and getting caught up in each other’s schemes.
“Surely you jest.” Loki raised an eyebrow, eyeing the small plant in Stark’s hand.
Stark grinned, “I saw it with my own eyes, the Midgardians, when caught under this plant, must exchange kisses.”
Within the past century or so, Stark had developed a fascination with Midgard and the people who inhabited it. Loki didn’t quite understand it, but he humored his friend on more than one occasion. “If that is true,” Loki started, “Than I would think that the Midgardians would have burned all of that cursed plant as soon as they realized what it compelled them to do.”
“That’s the thing, Loki,” Stark smirked, “They actually go around and gather bunches of this mistletoe and hang it in various doorways, and only during the time of their winter solstice.”
Loki shook his head, turning back to his book, “Then the Midgardians are more foolish than I once believed.”
Stark rolled his eyes, making his way to the chair on which Loki lounged, “It is a custom they use for spreading cheer and maybe setting a few sparks of passion.” He grinned, holding the branch above them both.
Looking up at the offending plant, Loki frowned, “And if I were Midgardian, what penalty would I pay for refusing to partake in the ritual?”
“From what I gathered, your honor would be at stake,” Stark chuckled, “There’s always plenty of heckling to be had, not to mention goading until the couple finally exchange their favors.”
“I see,” Loki closed his book with a snap, “And you have resorted to such underhanded methods to steal a kiss from me? Really Stark, I am disappointed in you.”
Stark smirked, “Give me some credit, my prince, this is hardly underhanded. No doubt even your brother could use this method to try and coax a kiss from Sven,” the two mages shared a laugh at the image of Thor attempting to woo the shield warrior, “No, if I were to use underhanded tactics, Loki, you wouldn’t know my plans until after I had writhing in ecstasy in my bedchambers.”
“I doubt that.” Loki smirked, grabbing Stark by his collar and pulling him into a kiss. It had been intended to be a brief, defiant kiss, simply to prove a point against Stark’s boasts and childish Midgardian customs.
Then Loki felt the way that Stark’s lips moved against his own, the way his facial hair would rub coarsely against his own clean shaven face. He could smell the bitter smell of the herbs Stark would work with in his experiments and the soaps used to keep his hands clean, as well as the heady smell of the mage’s own musk. And then Loki felt Stark slip his gilded tongue into his own mouth.
When Stark finally pulled away, with a thrice damned smirk on his lips, Loki was shaking his head, “Damn your foolish Midgardian plant and damn your gilded tongue.”
Stark grinned, “You seemed to enjoy them both, my prince.”
Well Loki was hardly going to allow such cheek to go unpunished, even from his best friend, “Well you and your tongue are going to be very busy all night tonight.” He said firmly, standing from his seat, “But we’ll be in my bedchambers, if you don’t mind. They’re far more suited for the occasion.”
“Are you always this demanding in bed, Loki?” Stark chuckled.
Loki raised an eyebrow, “You’re about to find out, aren’t you?” He made his way from the study, “Oh, and Stark,” He looked over his shoulder, “Leave the plant. You won’t be needing it.”