Archive of Our Own

The man’s lips curled into a snarl, his words crisp and cutting, a pause between them for maximum effect.

“And what do you think you’re doing?“

Peter’s throat bobbed painfully as he swallowed, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Or, in this case, a small spider caught in the gaze of the God of Lies. This guy had invaded earth with a freaking alien army. Why the hell had Peter thought shooting webs at him was a good idea? Loki wiped the webs away from his face with the annoyed gesture people reserved for shooing away flies.

Beneath the mask, Peter’s cheeks were burning, and not because he was hot. He’d never been more aware of the fact that he was a teenager, attempting to play with the big boys and believing that his powers could make a difference in the world, when in reality all he could do was annoy people by covering them in webs. His powers were laughable.

“I asked you a question.” Loki’s sharp voice slapped Peter out of the downward spiral his thoughts had taken. He let his arms fall to his side, feeling embarrassed by the fighting stance he’d taken up.

Loki’s left eye twitched, the green of his irises so unsettling in their intensity that Peter had to look away. His mask was usually a safety net between him and the world, but Loki’s gaze burnt right through it.

“You’re a villain. It felt...like I should... defend myself before you turned me into a frog or something.” Peter bit his tongue. Why was he such a freaking idiot? He’d probably just given Loki a wonderful idea, because frogs ate spiders and the irony of that would be unparalleled.

He watched with growing worry as Loki pursed his lips, eyes still fixed on him. Silence stretched between them.

When Loki leaned forward, Peter leaned back. This was it. His life as a human was done. Would Aunt May still want him around if he was a frog? Would Mr. Stark let him hang around the workshop?

“Boo!”

Peter should’ve seen it coming. He should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, but he didn’t. Instead he flinched like an amateur and stumbled backwards, while Loki cackled in delight.

Abruptly the cackling stopped and turned into a hiss. He bridged the distance between them within the blink of an eye and his fingers wrapped around around Peter’s neck. For a second Peter saw his life flashing before his eyes as his heart slammed so frantically in his chest that he was afraid Loki would hear it. Not that it mattered, the man probably had an inbuilt radar for fear. A feardar. Peter so would’ve preferred for him to have a good, old-fashioned gaydar.

“I will not turn you into a frog, nor am I a villain. Call me one again and I shall turn you into something much less dignified.”

Peter’s breath wheezed embarrassingly as he nodded, trying to remain as still as impossible, fighting against his body’s instincts to struggle. He had a feeling that struggling would only cause Loki’s hold to tighten.

Unfortunately for him, Peter had never been very good at keeping his mouth shut. Once Loki let go off him and he’d taken a few deep breaths, wonderful, wonderful oxygen filling his lungs, he blinked up at the man. “Sorry, sir. I suppose I didn’t get the memo that you’re not a villain anymore. The fact that we were just on opposing sides in a battle must’ve confused me further.” Shit. He should’ve invested more time in close combat training with Natasha.

He took a step back and brought a protective hand up in front of his throat, but Loki merely quirked an eyebrow this time.

“Everything is always so black and white with you Midgardians,” he huffed, looking like...looking like he was close to pouting. Peter blinked.

“I am NOT a villain. I am the God of Mischief, and I act accordingly.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

“What came first? The title or the actions?”

Loki crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking unimpressed. The effect was ruined by the fact that there were some remains of Peter’s webs stuck in his hair.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you get the title first and then act accordingly, or did you do stuff and then whoever hands out these titles was all ‘Oh yeah, Loki, funny guy, gets up to a lot of weird stuff. Let’s make him God of Mischief.’”

Loki frowned. “I just AM.”

Like that explained anything. Despite the fact that Mr. Stark regularly and extensively complained about Peter’s lack of self-preservation instincts, Peter wasn’t stupid. Loki looked about a second away from turning him into a frog after all, so he decided that it’d probably be best to follow up on that at a later point in time.

“Where are we?” He asked instead. Now that the immediate threat of being hit by Loki’s magic wasn’t looming over him, Peter became aware of their surroundings for the first time. There was nothing but sand. Miles and miles of sand, reaching the horizon on all sides. The sun was high up in the blue sky, beating down on them, not a cloud to be seen that might’ve brought some relief.

“I believe your good Dr. Strange was kind enough to send us to the Sahara for a vacation,” Loki drawled. “A holiday intended for me, I’m sure. You were just unfortunate enough to be in the way, as you apparently tend to be.”

Peter’s mouth went dry (like the desert. Wasn’t he full of puns today?). “The...the Sahara?”

“Did I stutter?” Loki snapped. A faint sheen of sweat covered his face.

Peter swallowed. How was he supposed to get back home to New York from the SAHARA? It was a school night! Which the Avengers knew. They’d even promised to take him home after the battle, even though he told them he’d just take the subway.

Figured. They fretted about who was going to take him home as soon as he left Queens, but were totally fine with sending him to the Sahara. By himself. With a supervillain God from outer space.

Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe beneath his mask, the cloth clinging to his lips with every inhale. He was imagining it, he knew he was, because he spent hours with the mask on almost every day and here he was, alive and kicking and not suffocated at all. Why would he suffocate now? Maybe because Karen was quiet and absent and something was wrong with the suit and oh God, he couldn’t breathe.

Peter ripped the mask off, the rushing of blood in his ears drowning out the rational part of his brain that frantically whispered about secret identities, and drew in a few heaving lungfuls of air. Without the mask he had to squint in the suddenly too bright surroundings, blinking against the sweat running into his eyes. His attire was not made for gallivanting around the Sahara. Maybe he could ask Mr. Stark to put some kind of cooling system into the suit. New York summers could get brutal as well, after all.

If he ever saw Mr. Stark again.

That thought brought on another round of trying to force oxygen into his body. Along with his breath, his thoughts sped up. He was a superhero, fighting crime. But he was also a kid, trying to keep up with his homework. His first enemy was the father of the first girl he’d ever liked. He’d been buried under a building. No matter how much he proved himself, to the Avengers he was still a kid, sometimes allowed to tag along when it pleased them, sent home when it didn’t. He wasn’t an asset, not really. And now he was stuck in the Sahara, with no water and no idea how to get home, and a super-villain who’d turn him into a frog.

Peter had been having bouts of feeling anxious for a while now, but standing in the middle of this great nothingness, sweating and exhausted and seeing only sand for miles and miles, was the final drop that caused his mind to bluescreen. Despite all his bravado, he was 16. There was only so much he could deal with by himself.

A hand touched his shoulder and slid up to the side of his neck, startling Peter with the realisation that he wasn’t by himself. Peter glanced up apprehensively, wondering if this was how he’d meet his end. Strangulated by a God while fighting off a panic attack. At least there would be no witnesses, and maybe Loki would be kind enough to tell the Avengers that Peter had died heroically. After all, it wouldn’t shed too great a light on Loki himself if he told them he’d chocked a kid who couldn’t breathe anyway.

Loki’s expression didn’t give anything away, but he looked softer around the edges, somehow. Maybe Peter’s vision was going blurry.

Peter blinked and Loki rubbed a thumb over Peter’s cheek.

“You’re alright,” he said and Peter blinked again. Were hallucinations common side effects of a panic attack?

“You’re alright, you just need to breathe. In and out, nice and slow. Can you do that along with me?” Loki asked and Peter felt a different kind of heat in his cheeks. Being the sole focus of Loki’s attention should’ve been terrifying, but he looked so earnest that Peter couldn’t help but feel warm all over.

Peter swallowed, vaguely aware that he was supposed to give an answer. His tongue felt heavy and swollen inside his mouth though, so he nodded and focused on expanding his chest.

“Good.” Loki took an exaggerated breath in and Peter followed. The first few times his inhales were stuttering, like the spluttering of Uncle Ben’s old car, but then it got easier as something in chest relaxed and the blockage of his airways vanished.

He couldn’t tell how long they stood like this, Peter’s eyes half closed as he followed Loki’s breathing, the God’s hand on his neck a point of contact anchoring him to the earth. It might’ve been seconds or minutes, time having fallen away along with the rest of the world. All that occupied Peter’s mind was Loki’s breathing. In and out. Nice and slow.

“There you are.” Loki‘s voice pulled Peter back from his drifting and as he blinked his eyes fully open, the world around him came into sharp focus. Loki’s eyes were a startling shade of green, and the corners crinkled when he smiled. The malice in the Vulture’s eyes had shone even brighter when he smiled, but Loki’s smile looked...friendly. Normal.

Peter realised that in this moment he would believe anything that Loki told him and he couldn’t help but huff a laugh as an image of Mowgli and the snake Kaa sprung to his mind. Loki even reminded him somewhat of a snake.

“Feeling better I see.” Loki commented and took a step back.

“Y-yes. Thank you. That was...that was nice of you,” Peter replied, kicking at the sand at his feet. Loki studying him this closely quickly turned the image of Mowgli and Kaa into something sinister.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Peter’s head snapped up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Could Loki read minds as well? Shit. He wasn’t going to take well to the snake comment.

“Without a doubt you have heard many tales about my shortcomings and faults, but no matter what my brother and his band of imbeciles tell you, I do not hurt people without reason. I do not go on killing sprees for sport. I may be a monster, but not the kind of monster the Avengers think me to be.”

“That’s not what they tell me.” The words were out before Peter had really thought this through. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I mean, it’s not like anybody tells me anything.” Right. That had come out more bitter than intended, and was not the point. “I mean. Thor talks about you all the time. He always says how clever you are and what kind of adventures the two of you had when you were growing up. He’s...he really loves you, man.”

Loki’s face was stony, only the side of his mouth twitching. Peter shifted. He hadn’t said anything wrong though, and refused to take it back. Maybe Loki needed to hear that his brother still cared, because he wasn’t willing to listen to Thor on the battlefield.

“As much as I appreciate this heart to heart,” Loki snarled, as if the words tasted bad in his mouth, “I think there are more pressing matters we need to concern ourselves with.”

Peter looked around and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. If only his suit had detachable gloves. He would’ve liked to strip down as much as possible in this heat, but since the suit was one piece that would’ve left him in his boxer shorts in front of Loki. Peter was not desperate enough to be deal with this new kind of humiliation. Considering the fact that all it took was ten minutes in the sun for him to get sunburnt, it wasn’t a good idea to expose his skin anyway. Aunt May would be so pissed if he came home red like a lobster and shivering.

If...if he ever made it back home to Aunt May.

“You’re magic. Can’t you...teleport us back?” Peter asked hopefully, flailing his hands in a vague imitation of the moves he’d seen Loki use.

“Yes.”

The one word was like the first sip of water after an exhausting workout, and Peter’s shoulders sagged in relief. Everything would be fine. He’d be back in New York in no time at all. Maybe even in time for dinner.

“Awesome. That’s awesome. Great. Let’s go.”

Loki sighed and shook his head. “Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be a problem. But whatever your strange doctor did to teleport me, it drained my magic. It’ll take time for it to restore.”

“Oooookay.” Peter wasn’t about to panic again. It would take a little longer than anticipated, but Loki had said he could do it. This wasn’t any different to missing the subway. You’d get to your destination, just a little slower. It was totally going to be fine. “How long does that take?”

Loki grimaced, something like vulnerability shining through his stoic mask for the first time. “I cannot say. Especially not under the circumstances,” he sighed and glared up at the sun.

When Peter looked at Loki more closely he realised that the god was sweating as much, if not more, than he was. Something niggled at the back of his mind, some tidbit of knowledge that was somehow important.

“Oh shit, that’s right! You’re a Frost Man, aren’t you?” Wow. Peter really had no right to complain about the heat next to Loki. “You’re...you’re not gonna melt, are you?”

Loki exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes narrowed almost to slits as he looked at Peter.

“I’m not going to melt, stupid child. And the correct term is ‘Frost Giant’, if you must know.”

Huh. Peter tilted his head to the side. “You don’t look much like a giant.” Sure, Loki was tall, but not giant tall.

Loki snorted. “And you don’t look much like a man, Spider-Boy.”

Peter huffed. That joke had gotten really old, really quickly. Not that it had ever been funny in the first place. “Alright. Fine. So. What’re we gonna do then?” He squinted and looked around, hoping against hope that some sort of shelter had magically appeared in the past five minutes. Peter was a city kid, he wasn’t used to this much sun exposure and concrete free spaces.

“We try to make it through the day,” Loki said as he worked open his bracers and dropped them carelessly to the ground. As Peter watched, growing more uncomfortable with each item of clothing that hit the sand, sending up little clouds of dust, Loki diverted himself of his armour, until he was left in a thin tunic and a pair of far too tight leather trousers. His hair was in disarray, curling more so than usual, and the sight of him startled a giggle from Peter.

“You look like a Williamsburg Hipster.”

Loki blinked, the joke going completely over his head. A one sided shrug made it clear that he couldn’t care less what Peter thought he looked like.

“We find shelter.” Loki turned on his heel and started walking towards a cropping of rocks in the distance that Peter had overlooked so far, leaving his armour behind in a sad little heap. Peter resisted the urge to rearrange it so it’d look as if a person had spontaneously disappeared. He jogged after Loki, because damn the god had long legs, making his stride difficult to keep up with. Maybe that’s where the giant heritage came through.

The heat had been bad when standing around, but when moving it became a different hell entirely. Peter wished he could tear of his suit, dreaming of a breeze of wind against his overheated skin.

He wasn’t sure what they were looking for but Loki studied the rocks intensively, as if he had laser vision that revealed what lay behind them. Maybe he had. Peter really needed to find out more about his space-alien-god-powers.

He followed when Loki rounded the formation, his feet sinking uncomfortably into the hot sand. His tongue felt swollen and heavy inside his mouth, and he couldn’t dredge up the energy to speak. Mr. Stark surely would have something to say about that.

The thought made Peter swallow and blink, and he pushed any and all thoughts of Mr. Stark to the back of his mind. Crying in front of Loki would be mortifying, and besides, he didn’t have moisture to spare for tears.

Loki made a pleased little noise and crouched down. There was a small opening between two rocks, barely discernible if one wasn’t looking for it.

“Wait here.”

For a moment Peter watched as Loki crouched down. “What? No. I can come!” The fear of being abandoned out here in this brown nothingness wrapped itself around his chest like a thick piece of rope.

“Oh hush, I’m not going to leave you. I will merely check if it is safe in there.”

“In your state? No, no, you definitely need backup! I’ll come along.” Peter nearly pressed up to Loki’s back, standing close enough to notice the irregular and too fast fall of Loki’s chest.

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes. “Young people are so irritating,” he muttered, but there was no heat between the words, his attention back on the task ahead of them.

Afterwards, Peter had no idea how Loki had made it inside the little cave. He was a lot taller and broader than Peter, and, no offence, he didn’t appear to be half as flexible as Peter. Despite those facts he gracefully robbed into the cave, making it look easy, whereas Peter felt like a thick, winding worm as he attempted to follow.

It was dark inside the cave, the sunlight fighting its way in through a few narrow cracks, and it was blissfully cool, compared to outside.

“This. This is awesome,” Peter said. Whereas Loki had to crouch a little, he could stand up fully without hitting his head on the ceiling. The space was small, but there was enough room for the both of them to sit or lie down. His knees buckled and Peter realised how much he actually wanted to lie down. He was exhausted, a deep ache in his muscles making him move stiffly.

“Your standards must be truly low if you think of this as ‘awesome’.” Loki did a pretty good imitation of Peter’s voice. He sounded as disdainful as ever, but when he looked at him Peter noticed that he was blinking rather rapidly, his body swaying just a little.

“Yeah well, not all of us can grow up in a palace and all that shebang.” For a moment he thought he’d said exactly the wrong thing, but the look of anger bled out from Loki’s face within a second, as if he couldn’t even by bothered by his favourite emotion right now.

“Hey man, maybe you should sit down.”

“Why, thank you for your advice. And here I was planning to do a handstand.” Loki sat down too quickly for there to be any real bite behind his words though. Folding his long legs and pulling them close towards his chest, Loki leaned back and tilted his head against the rock with a sigh, his eyes closing.

Peter became aware of how much he himself wanted to sit down. The sand inside the cave was cool, and Peter placed his palms flat against the ground once he was seated, wishing once again that he could take only parts of his suit off.

“Maybe we could dig for water,” Peter suggested. The thought of getting up and moving, digging in the ground was a horrible one. He wanted to curl up and not move for the next few hours, but he also wanted water. It felt as if along with the Sahara air he’d inhaled sand, tiny grains scratching on the inside of his mouth, coating his tongue and ripping up his throat as he swallowed.

“No.” The word was barely above a whisper. “There is no water here. Give me...some time.” Loki’s usually crisp speech was muddled, the end of the words slurred. Peter squinted at him. His chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm and although pale, he didn’t look as clammy anymore.

“A’right.” It appeared that Loki had a plan, and Peter was so tired on so many levels that he was willing to trust him. He could hear Mr. Stark’s voice in his mind, loud and clear, as if he was standing next to him. “What a stupid thing to do, Underoos.” It almost made him smile.

***

Peter had lost the battle against the pull of sleep, even though he knew that falling asleep in the presence of a villain was a stupid thing to do. But who was he kidding? If Loki wanted him dead, Peter would be cold and buried in the sand already.

It was dark inside the cave when he drifted back towards wakefulness, except for a few rays of pale moonlight filtering through the slits in the rocks. For a while, Peter lay there and looked at the beams of silvery light criss-crossing the darkness. It was peaceful, but temporary. Peter could feel the thoughts lurking in the back of his mind, ready to flood back in as soon as the barrier of sleep was removed, a thousand concerns and anxieties waiting to tear through his brain.

He sat up with a sigh, as if a more upright position would give him advantage over his thoughts. To Peter‘s right there was a rustling sound and he turned. A few feet away, Loki was a shapeless form in the darkness. For a while, Peter watched the rise and fall of Loki‘s chest, noting that it prompted him to inhale and exhale at the same time. Somehow, breathing in time with Loki made him feel less brittle.

There was nothing he could do right now, and Loki didn‘t look like he was about to murder him in his sleep, so Peter curled back up. He pressed his back to the rock behind him, still radiating a little of the days‘s heat, and closed his eyes. Drifting back into the darkness of sleep was easier than anticipated.

***

“Ngggh.” Peter squinted against the light and turned his head. A second later he was up on his knees and retched, spitting out the sand he‘d inhaled.

The sand he’d inhaled because the ground was full of it, because he was in a cave in the desert. Not in his bed at home, or crashed out at Stark Towers. No. In the desert. With Loki. Alone.

Peter forced his watering eyes open and scanned the cave, still spitting in a vain attempt to get rid off the grains of sand that appeared to have spread in his mouth and taken up permanent residence.

Loki was a dark lump in the corner of the cave, still curled up and oblivious to the bright light filtering in from outside. Peter‘s eyes narrowed. Was...was he still breathing?

Adrenaline jolted his body into a rapid rhythm. Loki hadn‘t looked so fresh last night. What if he had died? Peter would be so fucked. He‘d have no way to get back home, and chances of rescue out here were what? Zero? Not to mention that he would have a dead body on his hands, and he‘d never seen a dead person before and Loki had seemed rather nice, actually, and Oh God. How was he going to tell Thor?

Peter drew in a stuttering breath, thinking that he was getting ahead of himself here. Loki was a god. Surely he had survived much worse.

“Uh...Mr. Loki?” Peter’s voice echoed in the cave. Loki didn‘t react. Peter exhaled and carefully crept closer until he could stretch out his arm and poke Loki‘s shoulder with one finger.

“Mr. Loki? Are you alive?”

The mass of dark clothes shifted and Peter nearly fell backwards on his ass when one of Loki’s eyes opened and glared at him. It was a bit like that scene in the Hobbit when the dragon woke up.

“What, child?” Loki’s voice was as sandpaper rough as Peter’s throat felt.

“Oh, uh, sorry I just...wanted to...check that you’re still alive.” Now that he’d said it out loud, Peter felt stupid. He could only hope that once he’d turn eighteen he’d stop embarrassing himself like this all the time. Whoever said that your teenage years were the best years was wrong. Horrible wrong. Teenage years were full of pimples, and inappropriate feelings, and saying stupid shit that got you laughed at.

“Of course I’m still alive.” Loki didn’t need to add ‘You silly creature’’, it was perfectly implied between the lines. He sat up with a wince, and as his long limbs unfolded, Peter wondered how he’d ever managed to make himself so small.

The sunlight did nothing to warm up the chalky whiteness of Loki’s skin. Despite the heat he appeared to be shivering, his eyes bloodshot as if he’d never slept. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably.

Peter’s heart sank. Loki looked as if a breeze would blow him apart. There was no way he could magic them out of here.

Shifting his weight back onto his heels, Peter dropped back into a sitting position. His lips were burning and his mouth was achingly dry, the sand he’d swallowed earlier appearing to have soaked up what little saliva he had left.

They needed water.

Peter might as well have wished for a legion of pixies dropping in and flying him back to New York.

For a while they sat in silence. Occasionally Peter glanced at Loki, wondering if the god harboured the same kind of desperate thoughts. He did look infuriatingly zen though, as if this was some weird kind of retreat where you did yoga while feeling terrible.

Peter wished he had that kind of calm. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, his muscles burning, he would’ve paced the cave.

After so long that the silence had started to ring in Peter’s ears, Loki’s eyes snapped open and his hand shot out, closing around the air. When he pulled it back, there was a water-skin in his hand.

“Did you just pull that out of the air?” Peter had seen Loki’s tricks in battle, but he’d never seen him do magic, not up close. It was awesome.

Instead of answering, Loki took a deep gulp from the water-skin. Peter’s shoulder’s sagged. Would Loki be cruel enough to keep it all to himself? Guy was a villain and all, and he didn’t know Peter, so why would he be...

“Drink.” The sharp command was accompanied by the water-skin being shoved into Peter’s hands.

He tried to pace himself, but ended up drinking greedily. Water had never tasted so freaking good in his life. It soothed his mouth and throat, and Peter fancied he could feel the cool slide of it all the way down into his stomach, where it pooled.

It wasn’t enough, not by far, but he wasn’t going to be rude and empty the water-skin. They needed to ration what they had.

“Thank you.”

Loki inclined his head and looked away, as if Peter thanking him made him uncomfortable.

“This means it’ll take longer until I’m fit to transport us, but,” his lips twisted into a humourless smile. “I figured you‘d prefer to arrive back home later but alive.“

“That’s what they say in the TV ads about drunk driving too.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Nevermind, nevermind. I meant that’s fine.”

They sat in silence for a while, the water-skin sitting between them, temptation and reassurance both wrapped into such a small thing. Peter couldn’t say if the mouthfuls of water he’d taken had helped or made him even thirstier, like getting a taste of something and yearning for much, much more.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock. He needed a distraction, something to pull his mind away from the circling thoughts of water and being stuck with Loki and ‘Will I ever make it home? How am I going to explain to May that I missed school because I got myself stuck in the desert?’ Life as a teenage superhero was complicated.

Loki’s voice broke through Peter’s thoughts, so soft that at first he wasn’t sure if it had just been his imagination.

“You’re young to be fighting.” Loki’s eyes were fixed on him, half of his face illuminated by the sunlight, which looked quite bizarre.

“I’m almost sixteen,” he said, pulling his shoulders up in the shrug he had perfected. His age came up often, and no matter how casual he tried to be about, it still made him feel like a hedgehog, spikes up in defense.

“Mh,” Loki smiled. A real smile, because the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I was still in the cradle when I was sixteen.”

The realisation that he was stuck here with a god, and there were no distractions, shot up Peter’s spine like lightning. He’d been dying to ask Thor all sorts of questions, but there was never the time. Besides, Loki would probably be more knowledgeable in answering them. Not because Thor wasn’t smart, but he wasn’t very interested in finding out how things worked. Maybe Loki could even explain the principles of magic to him!

Peter leaned forward, noting that Loki still looked amused.

“Does time pass differently for you? Or is it just that because of your long lifespan it means less to you?”

“Ah. You’re a smart one. I should’ve known that Stark would never adopt someone unable to keep up with him.”

Peter felt a different kind of heat spreading through his body. “He didn’t ad-“

“Time means less to my kind,” Loki continued, waving a hand dismissively as he spoke. “Hours and days, they mean nothing. Your kind plans what you will do next year, or in five years time. My kind? We plan in centuries, if we plan at all. We do not measure our time like mortals do, allowing clocks to dictate our days.”

“But...how do you ever know when to be where, without clocks?”

Loki shrugged, his brows drawing together slightly. “I...we just know. When the sun comes up we rise, and when it has wandered in the sky, the children are sent to school. There’s a rhythm of life on the planets that is ingrained in their inhabitants.”

“Like internal clocks?”

“You could say that,” Loki nodded. He sat with his legs crossed and his upper body leaned back against the rock, the perch of his shoulders relaxed, so Peter decided that it’d be alright to go on.

“What’s school like in Asgard? Do they teach you magic there?” Peter imagined it like Hogwarts, only with more classes teaching you how to be a kickass warrior like Thor, and felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn’t he go to school in Asgard? Maybe Thor could arrange for him to be an exchange student for a few months?

“No.” The word came out hard and Peter found Loki looking up at the ceiling, the set of his mouth stony. “There are not many on Asgard who have the ability to weave spells.”

“Oh.” Peter’s eyes widened. Loki’s position had turned defensive, familiar. Could...could it be that on Asgard the magic people were the nerds? “I think it’s pretty cool. Magic, I mean, and all the stuff you can do. Some of it is really clever. When you’re not trying to kill us, I mean.”

That got Loki’s attention back and pulled him from whatever flashbacks to Asgard he’d been having. His teeth flashed in a grin. “I’ve not been trying to kill you for a long time.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut as he thought about it. There’d been the overly affectionate birds in Central Park last week, and the enormous puppies a few weeks before that, not to mention the incident with the pineapples, which left them all sticky and had Peter nauseous whenever he smelled pineapple for weeks. All of it had been tedious and annoying, but nobody had gotten seriously injured on any of those missions.

It was as if....

“Are you trying to pull the Avenger’s pigtails?”

Loki’s eyebrows drew together and when he exhaled, his nostrils flared. “What?”

Fuck. That had been the wrong thing to say. “Nothing, sorry. Uh. The heat’s getting to me. Tell me more about Asgard?”

Even as he said it, Peter knew the window for asking questions had been firmly shut. Loki’s expression was cold and guarded.

“No.” He made a point out of closing his eyes and leaning his head back, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Peter had forgotten that he was talking to a god with severe mood swings. He’d have to be more careful next time, reigning in his excitement. There were so many things he wanted to know, but he’d have to take it one tiny step at a time.

Though what Loki had said made him wonder. He’s always gone along with the general consensus that Loki was doing what he did out of hate and malice, not having had a reason to question it, after all. Loki had tried to take over Earth after all, had launched an attack on New York that Peter remembered vividly. The chaos and the screams as their neighbourhood was torn apart. His aunt clutching him so tightly it had hurt, hiding with him underneath his bed as aliens flew past their windows and explosions rattled the windows. He’d been a child back then, with no powers and no idea what was about to happen to him. The closest he’d gotten to being a hero was dressing up as Iron Man for Halloween. He’d been small and he’d been scared, and Loki had been at the source of it.

Peter glanced over at Loki, who sat so still he might’ve been part of the rock himself. Something didn’t add up and Peter was going to find out what it was. After all, he had a lot of free time right now.

***

“Well, he sounds like a bully.”

Peter nodded and continued to poke at the sand with his finger, drawing yet another smiley face. There was sand firmly stuck to the fingertips of the suit, but he couldn’t stop. In the desert, his restlessness apparently translated into sand-painting. Or maybe he should start building a castle. He’d always wanted to do that anyway, he’d just never been to a beach to execute that plan.

“It’s fine. There’re lots of other people at school,” Peter shrugged, trying hard not to think about Ned and MJ.

“You should do something about it.”

“Like what?” Peter asked, looking up from the castle foundation he was trying to build. Some colour had returned to Loki’s cheeks. By normal standards he was still super pale, but by Loki-standards this was probably considered normal. “Are you gonna teach me how to turn him into a frog?” An image of Flash as a pompous toad wearing a little designer jacket swum to the front of Peter’s mind, tugging the corners of his lips into a smile.

“I couldn’t teach you, but I could assist you.” If Peter hadn’t known that Loki was on his side, the way his eyes shone with excitement would’ve put the fear of God (haha) into him.

“That’s really tempting, Mr. Loki, but I think we better don’t.” Aunt May would have a right fit if she found out that her ‘bullying bullies back’ speech hadn’t had any effect. Peter would be in enough trouble for disappearing like that, he couldn’t afford more negative points.

Loki snorted. “The high moral of youth.”

Peter suspected that it hadn’t come out quite as mean as Loki had intended it to be. In the past few hours, as they tried to will away time, Peter had discovered that Loki actually had a pretty great sense of humour and was super smart. He reminded Peter a lot of Mr. Stark, actually. Both of them were sometimes misunderstood geniuses with a penchant for putting their foot in and overshooting the line. It made Peter wonder if it was merely the people surrounding them that were responsible for them coming down on different sides of the law.

“In theory though, not that we’re actually gonna do it, how would you turn him into a frog?” Peter asked, abandoning the sad little mountain of sand he’d produced. Sand-architecture was nothing he excelled at. “I mean, the theory behind it, how does it work?”

Loki’s chest heaved with a sigh. “How to explain that in small terms that you’ll understand?”

They’d spent enough hours in the cave by now that Peter wasn’t fooled by the sneers Loki threw around like rocks to keep people at a distance. The way his spine straightened and he leaned forward was evidence enough that, despite his words, he was more than willing to talk about this. He was good at explaining things too, which made Peter wonder if he’d wanted to talk about these things with someone for a long time, but had never found anyone willing to listen. Peter couldn’t imagine Thor being the kind of audience to listen to a speech about the modification of human particles.

Maybe, once this was over, Peter could get Loki to talk about this with Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark though. He bet they’d love it. Peter would even make a totally kick-ass Power Point Presentation for it.

***

“It’s quite clever,” Loki said, a string of web fluid dangling from his fingers like an awkward worm. “You came up with this by yourself?”

Peter nodded. The rough surface of the rock dragged against the skin of his back. He’d shed his suit a few hours ago, when the heat melted his dignity away. At least the boxer briefs he wore were decent, and not one of his shabbier pairs. Or from his Avengers collection.

“The original one, yes. Mr. Stark improved it a lot and made different versions of it.” The part of Peter’s brain that hadn’t been melted into mush by the heat whispered at him, in a voice eerily reminiscent of Mr. Stark, that he was giving away information to the enemy. Sitting there with his back propped against the rock in a mirror pose of Peter, his sweaty hair curling into a mad halo, and with his hipster clothing, Loki didn’t look like a villain. He looked young, as if he’d sweated out all his bitterness.

“Stark is quite clever. For a mortal.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a grin. “Did you just compliment Mr. Stark? I’m so going to tell him that!”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Loki huffed and kicked sand at Peter.

“Not fair!” Peter rubbed a hand over his shin, only spreading the sand further. At this point his sweaty skin was pretty much covered in sand anyway, so he let his hand fall to his side.

“I told you not to take your clothes off. Silly boy.” Peter wondered if sand had gotten in his ears. The sharpness was missing entirely from Loki’s voice, and the softening of his voice made the words sound like an endearment.

“I was hot,” Peter groused. He disliked the way Loki’s lips twitched into a barely concealed smile. Aunt May had the same way of smiling when she thought Peter was being ridiculous.

“And now you’re hot and covered in sand.”

“Maybe I like it that way.”

Loki’s laughter took them both by surprise and it was followed by startled silence. The moment felt so fragile that Peter hardly dared to breathe.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Loki twisting his hands and flexing his fingers. A faint sheen of green floated around them. “I should be recovered enough to transport us back before long.”

Peter nodded. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth and he swallowed.

“You’ll be relieved, no doubt.”

It was a real fight to keep from rolling his eyes at the overdone casualness of Loki’s voice. Peter was supposed to be the teenager here! Or maybe...maybe Loki was still a teenager in god years? Peter added that to the mental list of questions he needed to ask Thor.

“I’ll be relieved to get out of the desert, and wash all that sand away, and have a gallon of water and a giant pizza all too myself, yeah,” he said and licked his dry lips. “And then maybe you could lend me that book on the principles of magic you’ve been talking about?”

Loki’s attention was a heavy thing, thickening the air around them. Peter tilted his chin up and held Loki’s gaze, even though it made him sweat with nerves. Being under Loki’s scrutiny always felt like being taken apart, having even the most remote corners of his thoughts prodded and poked at.

“Very well,” Loki gave a curt nod, and just like that the tension evaporated from the air. “I need to rest a little more.” He closed his eyes, putting an end to their conversation.

Peter exhaled and pulled his knees closer to his chest. Untangling Loki was like attempting a web bomb.

***

Not that he would dare to voice his feelings in any way, but Peter felt like Loki was stalling for time. The sunlight was beginning to fade, and Peter wasn’t too keen on staying another night. The temperature drop at night was real.

Loki had conjured them up another water-skin, looking barely strained by the effort. The tightness around his eyes had relaxed and he looked more solid, somehow, as if his empty magic reserves had made him transparent. The heat was still a problem, but the return of his magic seemed to help Loki cope.

Now all Peter had to do was find a diplomatic way of asking Loki to take them back home without sounding too eager. If he was certain of one thing, it was that Loki was...a delicate snowflake. He was going to take it the wrong way if Peter didn’t phrase it in a way that left no doubt that Peter wanting to go home was not synonymous for Peter wanting to leave Loki’s company. Which wasn’t a lie. Loki had turned out to be rather entertaining, and Peter’s worries about being turned into a frog had reduced by about 70%. And hey, at least now if he got turned into a frog, he’d understand the science behind it somewhat.

“Stop thinking so hard, it makes my head hurt.”

“I’m not...I’m....Uh...Sorry,” Peter groaned. Mr. Stark had told him that he needed to stop ‘broadcasting his every thought all over your face’, but he had very little success in trying to do so. Maybe he should permanently wear the Spider-Man mask.

Loki rolled his eyes before rising in a fluid motion. He looked as imposing as ever, making Peter wonder if he’d hallucinated Loki pale and shaking after all. “You’re right, we’ve delayed long enough.”

The words were like a bolt of lightning and had Peter jumping to his feet as well. “Really? Are you sure?” There was no point in hiding his eagerness, and yet Peter couldn’t help but peer closely at Loki.

“What?” Loki’s eyes narrowed to slits of green.

“Are you sure you’re alright to do this?” Peter’s hand twitched upwards, but then he realised that Loki wouldn’t appreciate Peter checking his temperature. Could Frost Giants even get a fever? If their body temperature was lower, maybe their fever would be normal human temperature. Or they’d go off the other end and turn super cold. Peter made a mental note to check back home if ice-fever was a real thing.

“I said I’m fine, child,” Loki rolled his eyes.

Peter raised his hands. “Sure, right, sorry. No doubt you know what you’re doing, Mr. Loki.”

That seemed to soothe Loki’s ruffled feathers, and his shoulders sank from their high perch. “Come over here. You’ll need to hold onto me.”

As Peter shuffled forward, he became aware of his state of undress again. “I’ll just...gimme a sec.” It was beyond awkward, hopping around on one leg while attempting to shove the other one into his rumbled and dirty suit. Loki didn’t have the decency to look away, apparently rather amused by the spectacle.

It felt like it took ages until Peter finally had the suit pulled up over both legs and up to his belly. He was sweating like he’d been running for hours, and the thought of pulling the suit the rest of the way on was too much to bear. This would have to do.

“Are you done?” Loki drawled, the bored curl of his lips betrayed by the slight wrinkles around his eyes, like he was trying not to laugh. “You take longer than any women I’ve ever known.”

Peter tried to blown a wayward curl of hair away from his forehead. “How many women do you even know?”

“More than you do.”

Peter was ready to protest, until he realised that there was no point. “Fair enough.” He admitted. Considering that Loki was thousands of years older than him, there was absolutely no need to feel bad about this.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to know a great many women as you grow older.”

Loki patted Peter’s shoulder, and if, in his mind, Peter decided that it was a brotherly gesture, Loki never needed to know.

“Are you ready?”

Peter took one last look at the cave, the sunlight slanting in and Loki’s tall form in the half dark, hunched over to fit in the small space. Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other, exhaling in a way that was far too measured to stem from a natural rhythm.

“Yes.” Peter stepped close and smiled. “I trust you.”

Loki snorted. “What a foolish thing to do,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased.

Peter took hold of Loki‘s arm when it was offered to him, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Is this gonna be like Apparation?”

He couldn’t hear Loki’s reply, as the world around him contorted and his ears filled with static, but Peter was pretty sure Loki hadn’t said anything nice.

***

Being teleported by Loki felt as uncomfortable as Harry Potter had made apparation look. It made Peter wonder if actual wizards had been involved in that. Or maybe JKR herself was a witch?

When the spinning stopped, Peter‘s ears popped and it felt like his body unfolded from its compressed state, widening and lengthening until it was at its original proportions. He flexed his fingers and toes, glad that he had arrived in one piece.

“What the hell?”

The sounds around him still sound jumbled, like his ears were filled with water, and in a flash of panic Peter wondered if maybe his insides hadn’t aligned right. When Loki whispered into his ear, he sounded like he always did though.

“Well, this was a fun little trip. Take care of yourself, Spider-Boy.”

Peter’s head was still spinning, but he turned in the direction Loki’s voice had come from, blinking his eyes.

“Thanks. See you later, Mr. Loki.”

His vision finally focused and Peter looked at Loki, who’d come to a halt, his eyes meeting Peter’s. He looked pale and unsure, though maybe that Peter’s eyes adjusting, because the next time he blinked, Loki smirked, looking careless as you please.

“Of course.”

Another blink and he was gone. Peter stared at the spot from which he disappeared for a moment, before physically shaking himself as if that’d bring his brain back online. Taking in his surroundings, he realised that Loki brought him to Avenger’s Tower. The kitchen of Avenger’s Tower, to be more precise. As he turned around, he faced all of the Avengers, sitting at the breakfast table and looking at him as if he was a boy shaped grenade about to go off. Mr. Clint’s fork hung halfway to his mouth, some of the scrambled egg on it falling back onto his plate with a wet sound.

Mr. Stark was the first out of his chair, his hair looking wild, his eyes even wilder.

“What the fuck?!”