Chapter Text
Late nights were always slow.
Not that you were particularly busy at any time of the day, the draw of an antique bookstore seemed to escape most of the local populace, but it was especially dead once the sun fell beneath the skyscrapers blotting out the horizon. It was difficult, keeping up with online shopping and ebooks; the convenience of holding an entire library in one device was too tempting for many. But you had never been able to resist the allure of holding such wonderful stories in your hands, feeling the history and magic forever pressed into the musty pages.
To cut costs, you worked the store alone, which wasn’t an issue. You were smart; you had a security system, and no thief worth their salt would think to rob a bookstore to receive a payout worth anything, anyway.
The downtime gave you time to bustle around, reorganizing books that had been picked up only to be put down elsewhere, or put new books that you had found out into stock. If it was a truly exciting day, you got to rearrange the shelves when one section grew too big for its current location.
So, you were a bit shocked when the bells above your door tinkled pleasantly, alerting you to a customer just minutes before you were to close up for the night. You stifled the groan that wanted to come from deep within you - you had been enjoying reading an old tome of poetry that someone had donated to you just that afternoon. Slipping a bookmark into the yellowed pages, you plastered on your happy face reserved for dealing with customers and stood up from behind the counter.
“Can I help you with anything?” you asked, walking through the tall aisles of bookshelves to where you had last heard the sure footsteps of the customer. You rounded the last aisle to see a well-dressed gentleman staring at the shelves with a critical eye. He cut a handsome silhouette, even illuminated poorly by the harsh fluorescent lighting. An angular jaw, sharp cheekbones, slightly curled raven hair, and a slender but long frame all combined to make him look regal, powerful, far too grand for your humble used bookstore.
His eyes were just as startling as the rest of him, lifting to you and penetrating through to your very soul as he took you in. His thin lips pursed, thoughtful, before waved his hand around your store. “Is this the entirety of your selection?”
Bristling a bit at the judgement in his tone, you nodded, maintaining your painfully polite service persona. “It is. But we have a variety of genres available, and our stock is always changing as we get new donations or I find a hidden gem forgotten in some flea market. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
His regarded you coldly, as if you were a book he was considering, before looking back to the shelves. “I have not yet decided.”
You nodded and gave him your best smile, gesturing behind you at a stack of books you had intended to shelve after you closed for the night. But if he was going to stay here for a bit, you might as well get it done now. You didn’t want to get lost in the music of your poetry only to be ripped from it. “I’ll just get these put up, then. If you need anything, let me know.”
He didn’t acknowledge you, and after an awkward pause, you turned on your heel and loaded up several books in your arms, careful to hold them as to not damage the covers made fragile with age. His presence nagged at the back of your mind, always there as you slowly shelved your latest finds.
With one book left, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and instinctively you looked up to see the striking customer watching you from the end of the aisle. Ignoring the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach at his undivided attention, you perked up, tilting your head a bit to the side. “Sure you don’t need any help with anything?”
He prowled toward you lazily, like a tiger circling its prey, confident in the knowledge that he had you ensnared beneath the intensity of his gaze. He stopped so that the barest of breaths separated your bodies. His cologne, masculine with hints of leather and spice, made your head swim at the headiness of it. "Is what you truly desire, for me to purchase a book?" He took the book from your hands and set it on the shelves behind you before clasping both hands on the shelves on either side of your head, boxing you in and towering over you.
“I, um. Well…” you stammered.
He bent his head so his mouth hovered over yours. "Tell me to stop and I will."
You should. You should tell him to back the hell off of you, that this wasn't okay, that he needed to get out of your store before you called the cops. But you didn't. You only stared up into his emerald eyes, counting the dark flecks in them as his sweet breath fanned across your face, struck dumb at the curiosity that demanded to be sated by his touch.
His lips curled up into a pleased smile before his hands left the shelves, one cupping the back of your neck while the other came to rest on the curve of your hip. He broached the scant distance between you, brushing his lips across yours with the faintest of caresses. For such an intimidating man, you expected raw passion in his kiss, taking everything from you and overwhelming your senses. But his soft mouth smoothed over yours tenderly, almost chastely, save for the rubbing of his thumb over your hip bone.
When he pulled away, his nose rasping against yours, you followed him, standing on the tips of your toes to chase his mouth and kiss him more thoroughly this time, balancing yourself with your hands splayed across the deliciously hard muscles of his chest. A pleased sound hummed from his throat, and he steadied you against him with a hand clutched tighter to your waist, pressing you along the length of his torso.
He was all warmth and desire, flooding your limbs with an addictive buzz that weakened your knees and sent your heart racing against your ribcage. You wanted to drink him in, be consumed by him, and when he flicked the blade of his tongue against your lower lip, heat of a different sort shot down between your legs. You were both panting for air when he removed himself fully from you, stepping back, and you knew you had to wear a similar expression to his: face flushed, eyes darkened and shining with desire, lips parted and begging for another taste. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and it drew your attention like a magnet.
“Until we meet again,” he said quietly, intimately, his accented voice coated in sin and layered with lust. His eyes raked over your body with a hunger that made you clench the muscles of your stomach in anticipation.
And then he was gone, leaving you dazed and more than a little worked up against the bookshelves. “What was that?” you asked out loud, as if the ancient tomes could answer back.
Shaking yourself from the trance his touch induced, you set about closing up the store for the evening, chewing on your bottom lip absentmindedly. You hadn’t even heard the bells sing his exit you had been so distracted. You chided yourself as you went back to the counter, feeling foolish for getting go swept away by a random stranger. You knew better than to let someone just kiss you like that, out of nowhere.
But, oh, what a kiss it had been.
Grabbing the book of poetry you had abandoned, you went to put it into your bag to take home when a piece of ivory paper sticking out of the side caught your eye. Curious, you pulled it out, finding that one side contained elegant script in dark green ink that read:
I will return tomorrow following the closing of your establishment. Be prepared. - Loki
You tested his name on your tongue, enjoying the way it felt on your lips almost as much as you did his kiss. “It’s a date.”