Work Text:
‘I demand you make him stop!’
Peter sighed. The textbook was heavy in his hands, with the plump cushion on his lap doing little to support its weight, and – despite the luxury of the tower – the sofa was far from a comfortable place for an extended period of an upright sitting session. A low coffee-table was covered with various papers, computers, and highlighter pens. He placed his notebook on the cool pages of the textbook, before tucking a disposable pen behind his ear and looking upright.
Loki stood on the opposite side of the table. A couple of laptops sat before him, both of which stole the attention of Peter, who glanced between the older man and the screens flashing with videos on one and essays on the other. The whirring of his old laptop was a complete contrast to the silent one borrowed from Tony, and the broken plastic of his machine was barely held together with tape and glue, but it was still usable and the initials of ‘B. Parker’ were neatly written with familiar handwriting on the outside case. He asked with eyes on the screen:
“You want me to do what now?”
Loki slammed shut the two laptops; his nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, as he leaned forward until his long locks of black hair fell about his pale face. The spark to the eyes was long gone, instead replaced by something hard and dull, and a flush to his cheeks spoke of an emotion that could no longer be completely repressed. Peter kept his eyes on Loki. He placed his hands on his notebook and textbook, where callused fingers smoothed down the creased edges of the paper, and his teeth bit and chewed into the skin of his inner cheek. Loki huffed.
“I’m warning you, child,” snarled Loki. “If you do not make your betrothed cease his incessant prattling and propositions, I will chain him to a boulder and have his liver ripped out by eagles on a daily basis! Do you believe your legends to be nothing but stories told to children on rainy days? Prometheus begged Odin for mercy, as will Wade beg me!”
Peter sighed. The pure venom on the word ‘child’ seeped into all other words, contaminating them with a poison that brought a curled lip and a snarl to the end of every sentence, and the speed and volume left no room for interruption or discussion. Loki leaned forward with his hands on his hips, until he cast a long shadow over Peter and his workload. The fingers were splayed about his sides, as if to make a show of strength and dominance. Peter quirked an eyebrow.
He leaned slowly to his right, so as to look around Loki. It was relatively empty in Avengers Tower that evening . . . Natasha in Rome, Bruce and Tony in the laboratory, Clint at home . . . it would be almost lonely without the occasional presence of Pepper and Wade. Ah, Wade . . . at present, he had accosted Thor after what looked to be a long shower on the part of Thor. The young god was dressed only in a white towel, with chiselled pectoral muscles shimmering with water, and slicked back blond locks running down his neck and shoulders.
Thor politely smiled, although the smile did not quite reach his blue eyes. Wade was touching his arm and feeling his biceps . . . ‘hey, I’ve only read about droplets of water falling from hard nipples in E-rated fan-fiction’, ‘So do the curtains match the drapes?’ . . . Thor would take a step back, only for Wade to take a step forward. He would raise his hands in a gesture of surrender, only for Wade to teasingly try to take his towel. Peter sighed. He asked with a pout:
“You want me to stop Wade flirting with Thor?”
“It is a relief to know that you do understand basic English.”
“Okay, but . . . isn’t he your brother, though?”
A heavy flush overtook Loki’s cheeks. The redness was a stark contrast with his pale skin, and his eyes rapidly blinked in response to the sudden question. Peter noted that his plump lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if the silver tongue had turned to lead, until – finally – Loki righted himself and stood with his back impossibly straight and head impossibly high. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as he crossed his arms over his chest and asked:
“Funny, did that not used to be your boyfriend?”
Loki continued to hold his torso with one arm, but the other extended outward. The palm faced upward, where – with a burst of bright light – the sparks of a fire danced within his hand. It was almost beautiful. The flames licked at one another, with so many shades of red and orange and yellow, but the threat was also clear . . . Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. He counted to five, before he forced a smile that was at odds with the glare he directed towards Loki. The two fixed their eyes at one another, each one still and silent, until Peter finally spoke in a strained voice.
“Okay,” said Peter. “Put the fire away, will you?”
“Will you make your fiancé go away?”
“Hey, no one makes Wade do anything. He’s like . . . he’s like a child learning ‘no’ for the first time, you know? If you tell him not to do something, he’s more likely to do the thing he’s not supposed to do than to just do what you said to do. He’s contrary . . . rebellious, free-spirited . . . all in all just kind of an annoying, immature guy that likes to poke bears. You get that, right?”
“No, I do not,” said Loki. “The people in my life are far more mature than that.”
“Well, you know what they say, everyone knows someone who’s kind of annoying, and if you can’t spot that person in your social circle -? Well, it’s probably you. Hey, any time Thor even suggests not doing something, you do the opposite just out of spite, so . . . if the shoe fits . . .”
Loki remained still. The silence returned for a brief few seconds, until Peter was almost lured into a false sense of security, until – with an actual growl – he dove forward and stood close enough that legs and feet touched with a surprising degree of coldness. He leaned down until his long locks of hair shrouded them both in darkness. Peter moved back an inch, as a wagging finger struck against his nose, but Loki followed him and continued to wag his finger . . . tap, tap, tap . . . Peter took in a deep breath, as his heart picked up speed. Loki spat out:
“I am running out of patience.”
“Yeah? I’m running out of time to revise for my exam, so we’re even.”
He looked down at his textbook. Loki slammed it closed. He opened it. Loki closed it. The racing of his heart picked up speed . . . faster, faster . . . it was loud enough to drown out all other sounds, until the thrumming beat was almost a drawn out humming tone. A tremble struck at the wagging finger, until Loki was forced to rip it away and clutch it as part of a tight fist. Peter remained still. There was no tingling of his spider-sense . . . not yet, at least . . . it meant that this was so far the simmering bravado of an insecure man. He kept quiet, even as Loki choked out:
“Make. Him. Stop.”
The rush of adrenaline was cold in his veins. It kept a strange tunnel-vision that locked Loki and only Loki in his vision, and every inch of skin was covered with goose-bumps, as he took in deep hisses of breath, but . . . there was no danger. He closed his eyes. He took in a great exhale. He opened his eyes and let loose his breath, before he leaned around Loki to slide his books onto the table beside his laptops, and – biting into his lip until he tasted blood – looked into the eyes of the now open-mouthed man. Peter said as slowly and calmly as possible:
“He’s not actually flirting with Thor, you know.”
“Oh? I never realised stroking someone’s arm was platonic in this realm.”
“It can be . . . sometimes . . .”
“And whispering in one’s ear? Kissing one’s cheek? Making innuendos?”
Peter stood. He ran a hand over his face. Loki was back to crossed arms, but this time it no longer seemed a sign of dominance . . . instead, it seemed like he was hugging himself. The sharp glare was hiding a shimmer to the eyes, and the curled lip was hiding a subtle tremble. Each flare of the nostrils hid a slight jerk to his breathing, and every harsh sentence hid an uncertain tone to his words. Peter strained to keep his eyes on Loki, lest any move to his gaze trigger a newfound interest in Thor and Loki, and forced back his painful smile.
“Look, he has low self-worth,” said Peter. “It’s like ‘tears of a clown’. He makes jokes and insults and flirtations to hide how he really feels, and – believe me – I know what that’s like. When you come from an abusive background or you’ve been abandoned or you’ve just had a pretty sucky life -? You have a lot to contend with . . . it gets on top of you . . .”
“We all have our issues, child,” retorted Loki.
“Yeah, and some of us don’t resort to fratricide, then genocide, and – I don’t know – top it all off with some world domination? You’re not one to talk, Loki Odinson. I’m just saying that Wade . . . and folks like me . . . like to deflect from serious situations by making them less serious, because it’s easier to deny there’s an issue than to face it head on. He thinks if he can make everyone smile, that will stop all the tears. Like tears and smiles can’t coexist . . .”
“How profound.”
“He’s flirting with Thor for some stupid reason . . . maybe he’s uncomfortable as he used to have a crush on him, or maybe he’s had a bad day and he’s hoping to provoke you, because sometimes his self-loathing equates to a need to be punished. I just know he doesn’t mean his flirtations, and if you were to actually ‘reciprocate’ then he’d probably freak out. He’s a monogamist.”
Loki rolled his eyes, as he turned and gestured to them. Wade was dressed in an oversized sweater, one knitted by Aunt May several holidays ago, and clinging onto the arm of Thor, who strained to pull away his trapped limb without causing any harm to the mortal man. The shimmer returned to the eyes of Loki, whose lips parted with a soft sigh, but – almost immediately – he pressed his lips into a tight line and wrenched his head to the side. The cold demeanour was back, as if it had never left. He looked straight to Peter and choked out:
“I do not believe you.”
“Okay, well, how about I prove it to you?” Peter rubbed at his face. “If I prove to you that Wade only really wants me, you can’t punish him or hurt him or kill him. If it turns out he actually does want to sleep with Thor -? I’ll kick his ass personally and throw him out. Okay?”
Loki paused, before he conceded: “Okay.”
Peter took in a deep breath. He smiled. The beating of his heart increased again, as he rolled back his shoulders and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hooded-top, and – with a crick of his neck – walked with confidence and speed over to Wade and Thor. It took all his self-control not to let his eyes roam over the bare flesh of the almost naked god, but thankfully Wade perked up on seeing him and raced over to meet him before he even reached either of them.
Wade hugged Peter with all his strength, before swinging him around in a circle. He dropped Peter back onto his feet, only to smother his face with a dozen or so kisses, and babbled endlessly about the ‘fan-service’ on show and how nothing competed to his ‘Petey’, while Peter struggled to get out a single word between the various hugs and kisses. Wade finally stepped back, where his big blue eyes shone with a genuine affection, and Peter – relaxing his shoulders and letting a sincere smile overtake him – cupped at the scarred cheek and whispered:
“Hey, Wade, I was thinking –”
“About how hot Thor is? Yeah, me too, but he can’t compete with you, Petey!”
“Actually, I realised I can’t compete with him.” Peter blushed. “You’re right; he’s pretty attractive . . . muscular, blonde, sensitive . . . it got Loki and I talking, and – well – if you wanted to maybe try things out for a bit -? I wouldn’t hold it against you. It’s pretty common for some couples to pick a ‘free pass’ in relationships and . . . maybe Thor could be yours?”
Loki took the opportunity to wave his hand. He clad Thor in a casual outfit that would not be amiss among ‘the mortals’, using only his magic, but somehow the outfit only emphasised his muscles all the more. Thor opened his mouth to speak. He moved his face between Loki and Peter, then Peter to Loki, while his face contorted into an expression between disgust and surprise, but – as Loki sneaked a path behind Wade – he was soon silence when Loki put a finger to his mouth and winked. The disgust and surprise soon turned into confusion and annoyance.
Wade simply stood with open mouth, as it gaped like a fish out of water. He scratched at his head, where a few flakes of skin fell from the open wounds, and stumbled over his words until they spilled out like a stammered mantra. It took time to finally pull himself together. He looked Peter over with a slow – yet appreciative – gaze, before he slapped a hand on Peter’s back and let loose a raucous level of laughter that echoed through the whole lounge. He chirped out:
“You’re pulling my leg!”
“No, I’m not,” said Peter. “You flirt with him a lot . . . like a lot a lot . . . I can see how much you want him, so maybe you just need to get it out of your system? I wouldn’t mind, and maybe Loki and I can have a fun night together as well. He could be my free pass.”
“You’d . . . you’d sleep with Loki?”
“Why? Does that make you jealous, Wade?”
Wade glared in the direction of Loki. He clenched his fists until some of the sores on his arms started to break, and little crescent-shaped cuts broke across his skin. One hand moved a little towards his waist, where his concealed weapon lay beneath his old t-shirt, but – with a grunt – he forced his hand back to the side of his leg. He breathed fast and shallow. He bit into his lip. Loki came around to stand beside Peter, where he stood tall and dropped a hand onto his shoulder, and together they looked expectantly to Wade, who was growling from the back of his throat.
“I’m not jealous,” mumbled Wade.
Peter held back his laughter, as he leaned in close to Wade. He slid his hands along the firm and toned chest, until they came to rest on the boundary between neck and shoulders, and – with his body now pressed against that of his lover – brought his lips so close that they shared a single breath. They were close enough to see the slight dilation to those pupils, and close enough to feel the beginnings of a potential erection breaking through the denim fabric. Peter whispered:
“Or maybe I could join you and Thor? Hmm?”
“Like a love triangle?”
“I think you call it a ‘threesome’, but yeah.”
Wade grimaced. He pulled back enough to reveal curled lips, which were quickly pulled back into a forced smile, only to be replaced with an eerily neutral expression. It was out-of-character for one who wept until he was sick, laughed until he cried, and once squealed in excitement so loud – on seeing a new book to his favourite series – that an entire store of people turned to see the source of the sound. He was a man of a thousand faces, each one more beautifully expressive than the last, and now he was simply looking . . . just looking at Peter, as he mumbled:
“Wouldn’t . . . er . . . Loki feel left out?”
“We could make it a ‘love square’,” teased Loki. “Just the four of us on one big bed. I’m told that I can be an awfully good sport; I’ve had my fair share of princes and princesses in my day, and I know how to make any mortal feel like a god . . . what do you say?”
“I – ah – don’t think Petey would be comfortable with that.”
“I would,” said Peter. “I’m looking to try new things and gain new experiences.”
“You hear that?” Loki added. “He’s all for it! If you’re uncomfortable with your lover experiencing the pleasures of the flesh with another, perhaps we could arrange it so that he only is taken by you and I am only taken by Thor . . . you two may take each other. Of course, it would then be a ‘love trapezoid’. Still, we could make it work.”
“It seems more like a ‘love rectangle’ to me, if that’s the case.”
“A circle, if we round the lines.”
“Or just a ‘love zig-zag’.”
A frown fell over Wade. He looked between Peter and Loki, where he saw barely constrained giggles and chuckles, and - with his eyes now misted over – dropped all the weight from his body, until his shoulders slumped and head fell to his chest. A stab of pain struck at Peter’s chest, as his lover shifted from foot to foot and gnaw at his lips. He instantly let his smiles fall away, before he threw his arms around Wade and pulled him close. Wade asked:
“Are you two making fun of me?”
“No,” said Peter. “No! Well . . . maybe a little.”
It was difficult to hold Wade against him, when Wade was so much taller than him. The older man had to bend down, so that his head could be cradled against a svelte frame, and Peter – rapidly blinking and swallowing hard – pressed dozens and dozens of kisses to the scarred and scabbed scalp of his fiancé. He ran his hands over every inch of body. He whispered reassurances, until he finally took those rough cheeks in soft hands, and he tilted up that beautiful face until watery eyes met watery eyes, both filled with emotion. Peter spoke against his ear:
“It’s just that you’re making Loki feel uncomfortable when you flirt with Thor, and I know you’re only joking and teasing, but . . . Thor doesn’t. It’s fine with me when you flirt with Nova or Cable, as they know you don’t mean it . . . they know you . . . Thor isn’t close enough with you to know it’s just one big jest. I thought maybe if I made you think I was serious, you’d feel uncomfortable and maybe you’d realise others were uncomfortable, too . . .
“Plus, I don’t like the idea of you with another man any more than you’d like the idea of me with another man . . . there’s no combination of us four that would make this work. It could be just me and you, and Thor and Loki, but if we’re sharing intimate moments – even if it’s just seeing each other in those moments – it feels like I’m giving a way a part of us . . . something that’s just ours.”
“Like a ‘love parallelogram’?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” laughed Peter. “I guess my fear is one day someone will take you serious, and they’ll either hurt you or want to bed you. It’s just too much drama all around. Plus, let’s face it, you would be horrified if anyone actually wanted to go through with it . . . you weren’t happy when you thought I wanted a foursome, were you? There’s no one in this world that I trust to see me at my most vulnerable, and no one else whose body I want to see at theirs . . .”
A blush crept over his cheeks. Peter pulled away just enough to clasp his hands between them, where he tugged and twirled his fingers before his lap, and he stared down at the ground with a strange silence between them, one so unlike the ‘merc with a mouth’. He took in a shuddered breath, while his heart started to race once more . . . faster . . . faster, faster . . . he panted and swallowed and angled his body away from all three men. Finally, Wade acted.
He took both hands in one gentle grasp, which he brought to rough lips. They soon kissed at each knuckle, followed by the backs and palms and wrists, and – with a bright smile that made his eyes twinkle and tears recede – he pulled Peter back into their warm embrace. The two ran their hands over one another, each delivering a series of kisses more intimate and gentle than the last, until they finally parted with shared laughter and blushes and compliments. Loki made a sickly gasp, while Thor ordered him to be silent. Wade ignored them to ask with a jump on his heels:
“So we can just be a ‘love line’? No triangles? No squares?”
“Just us connected together as one line, yeah . . .”
Loki opened his mouth to utter another insult, but was quickly whisked away by Thor, who took him by the elbow and steered him towards the elevator to the private suites . . . ‘come, Mother will be miss us, let us deliver news of our time here on Midgard’. Wade watched them with an eager gaze, but this time it was far from lecherous and more than inquisitive. He watched them until they entered the elevator, until the doors closed, and until the elevator moved. Wade bounced again on his feet, as he winked to Peter and asked in a loud voice:
“What about a ‘Love Y’?”
“Hmm? What’s that?”
“Well, if you top me while standing up, and I bend over, it’s kind of like –”
Peter blushed, as he pushed Wade away. He continued to smile, even as he tried to walk away from his lover, but a hand grabbed at his wrist and yanked him back. Peter stumbled into the open arms of Wade, who cried out: ‘no, no, I’ll behave, I’ll be good’. The laughter said otherwise, but Peter could not bring himself to break free. Wade nuzzled against his neck and kissed at the soft skin, while Peter laughed until his sides felt sore, as rough hands tickled at him until he could barely breathe, and – finally parting for breath – gasped out in a warm voice:
“Okay, and if you ruin the mood and you’re on your own tonight . . .?”
“Oh!” Wade yelled. “Like a love ‘period’? A love ‘full stop’? A love ‘dot’?”
“Wade . . .”
“If I love myself a lot, maybe a ‘love ellipsis’, but – hey, Petey? Petey?”
Peter extricated himself from the embrace. He fought to maintain a serious façade, but his lips were trembling and his chest jerking with barely constrained laughter. He walked towards the private bedrooms, while Wade made an incessant series of panicked apologies, until – finally breaking – he turned around weeping from the laughter, and signalled Wade to follow him to the bedroom that lay so close to the shared lounge. Wade needed no further prompts. He raced across the lounge and practically dove at Peter, until they were again warmly locked together.
“I’m glad you’re not holding my teasing against me,” said Peter. “There’s so much else you can hold against me instead, you know? I’m just glad to be your one and only, and speaking of the ‘number one’ . . . why don’t we go make some ‘love numbers’ instead of shapes.”
“Numbers instead of shapes?”
Peter winked, as he pulled Wade into the bedroom. The door locked automatically, as J.A.R.V.I.S. used his discretion to judge the moment of pure intimacy as one that necessitating utmost privacy, and it took very little energy to drag Wade over to the bed and push him down. He landed on the mattress with a little bounce. Peter licked his lips, as he looked down at his fiancé, and started to undress with a speed unlike any other, as he purred out:
“Yeah, like a ‘sixty-nine’ . . .”