Chapter Text
You and Loki had a sort of arrangement. It had started completely by accident one fateful night -- a night that had you battling for your life.
Cramps. You were having god-awful cramps.
They had woken you up in the middle of the night, pulling you out of a blissful unconsciousness to the feeling of your insides being ripped to shreds.
You groaned, rolling off your bed and just managing to kick your legs underneath you before stumbling towards the door.
You didn’t think to put socks or a sweatshirt on, despite the cold temperature inside the compound -- all you could think about was getting ibuprofen in your system before you exploded from the sheer pain of the claws tearing at your internal organs. You really needed to keep a bottle of Advil in your room. Unfortunately, the medication you were looking for was in the kitchen.
Stumbling across the room, you tried to uncurl yourself and stand up straight. With one hand still gripping your stomach in a hopeless attempt to will the pain away, you dragged your door open and headed down the dark hallway.
Squinting both from lack of sight and pain, you managed to find your way to the kitchen out of sheer muscle memory. You had made this desperate trip enough times to know exactly where you were going. You really needed to start keeping a bottle of Advil in your room. But of course, you would never learn.
When your hand reached the open doorway to the kitchen, you practically threw yourself inside. The pain in your abdomen had somehow managed to increase tenfold in the few short minutes since you’d woken up, and your insides were squeezing with unbearable agony.
Hastily picking your way around the island in the center of the room -- you’d run into it enough times to slow your pace, even with the state you were in -- you scrambled for the medicine cabinet while turning on the sink. Fingers closing around a familiar shaped bottle, you squinted at the labeling until you managed to make out the blue ‘Advil’ against white plastic.
You cranked it open, shaking two pills onto your hand and throwing them into your mouth before leaning under the sink. Shutting the tap off, you leaned back and swallowed the pills with a wince. Cringing as another wave of knife-twists attacked your guts, you fell back against the counter and clutched your stomach in desperation.
Then a light clicked on.
It was one of the smaller lamps, and really only lit the room halfway, but it was enough for you to see that you weren’t alone like you'd assumed. After all, who else would be in the kitchen at three in the morning?
The God of Mischief, apparently.
Loki was leaning back against the island you had so fortunately avoided running into, lazily sipping a cup of tea. You grit your teeth, trying not to look as distressed as you felt, and gave him a grimace that was definitely supposed to be a smile. Loki opened his mouth, a cunning smirk already on his face when another wave of pain tore through your body. You hunched over, groaning as you tried not to fall onto the floor.
He was by your side in an instant, tea abandoned on the island.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, hands quickly coming up to brace against your shoulders.
“Oh,” you laughed, and Loki gave you a look of utter disbelief. You supposed it did look concerning, laughing when you were literally doubled over in agony.
“It’s just cramps,” you offered, assuming that would reassure him.
It did not.
“Cramps? What happened? Did someone poison you? Who would--”
“No,” you laughed again, though it came out as more of a frantic grunt, and shook your head. “No, it’s just something that happens sometimes. You know,” you tried to give him a meaningful look.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” he somewhat defensively replied, and you sighed, leaning forward as you tried to focus on anything but the aching in your stomach.
“Well,” you muttered through grit teeth. “It’s perfectly normal.”
“So you’re not dying?”
“Nope.”
“But… you’re in pain?” The question was almost timid.
“Yeah,” you groaned. You weren’t sure how it wasn’t obvious. Loki tilted his head inquisitively, the wrinkle between his brows deepening with concern.
“What can you do?”
“Ha,” you laughed bitterly, and you found yourself grabbing onto his arm for support. He still hadn’t let go of your shoulders, though your brain was too foggy to unpack that at the moment.
“Well, I can take Advil. Pain medication,” you clarified when he furrowed his brows. “But it doesn’t always work. Other than that…” you shrugged. “Curl up in the fetal position and try to breathe, I guess.”
Loki’s face darkened with something like displeasure. Then he was suddenly moving his hands to your ribs. Before you had a chance to react, there was a flash of green, and the pain in your stomach began to fade. It was gradual, at first, but after a minute or so, the agony that had been gripping you was almost completely gone, and definitely more bearable than before. It felt like a warm wave had swept over your body.
“Mhn, shit ,” you breathed, leaning your head against Loki’s chest as your body went slack. You felt like you could breathe again, and your eyes fluttered closed as your brain began to shift out of survival mode.
You took several deep breaths, hand coming up to grab clumsily at the front of Loki’s shirt. Under any other circumstances you would have been embarrassed, but right now all you could think about was the sudden relief. It was so euphoric that it made your knees weak.
“Better?” Loki whispered, moving one of his hands to place on your back, fingers splaying out across your shirt.
Opening your eyes, you were met with Loki’s content face shrouded in the green glow of his magic, which was still pouring softly from his fingers.
“God, yes,” you sighed, smiling gratefully.
“Good,” he nodded, and then suddenly he let out a heavy breath. “Norns, does that happen to all of you mortals?”
“Some of us,” you smirked. “Some worse than others.”
“And what, pray tell, would that have been considered?”
You thought about it. Your mother had always gotten horrible cramps, so it would make sense for you to have inherited that from her. Still, you knew plenty of people that had it much worse than you did.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Average, I guess?”
Loki scoffed, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
“And what on earth do you do when you find no relief? Just suffer ?”
You chuckled, leaning heavier against him
“‘What on earth,’” you repeated with a grin. “That’s a pretty human expression there, Your Majesty.”
“Yes,” Loki grimaced. “It seems you mortals are rubbing off on me. I must be more careful of that.”
You snorted, resting your head on his shoulder, and sighed. Hesitantly, Loki placed his other hand on your back, and the green glow began to fade until the two of you were left in yellow lamplight.
“If I’ve calculated correctly,” Loki murmured. “The effects of the spell should last another hour or so.”
“Mm,” you hummed. “The Advil should hopefully kick in by then.”
Loki gave an indigent scoff, but when you looked up he was smiling.
“Certainly I am far better than ‘Advil?’”
“No, yeah, of course,” you furrowed your eyebrows teasingly.
Loki narrowed his eyes at you, but there was a pleased grin on his face. You began to slowly lean back, testing the waters with how you were feeling, and he gradually dropped his hands.
After a few minutes, in which Loki asked if you were sure you were alright at least three separate times -- he still didn’t seem entirely convinced that you weren’t dying -- the god offered to walk you back to your room. You insisted that it absolutely wasn’t necessary, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“But, your tea,” you said in a last-ditch effort to discourage him as he herded you towards the door.
In response, he waved his hand, and the cup disappeared in a green flash.
“Not fair,” you muttered.
“Forget about the tea.”
There really wasn’t any arguing with Loki when he made up his mind. You weren’t even sure it was the whole ‘God of Mischief’ thing -- it seemed more like just a ‘Loki’ thing. He was relentless, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Not when he was being so nice at the same time.
Out in the hall, he offered you his arm like this was the 1800s and began to lead you down the hall, keeping a watchful eye on you for any signs of returned pain, even though he was clearly pretending not to. You smirked softly, amused by his odd behavior.
But when you reached your door, you found yourself filled with nothing but gratitude.
“Well, this is me,” you whispered, and Loki made a face of reluctant confusion. Despite his claim that mortals were 'rubbing off on him,' he still didn’t understand most of the phrases that were second nature to you.
“Hey, um… thank you, Loki. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he replied after a moment of staring at you. He shook his head, then continued. “But I must insist that you find me if this happens again.”
You managed to bite back a snort of laughter. That was adorable -- 'if' it happens again. But Loki didn’t know better, and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, so you maintained a straight face. It really was kind of him, after all.
“Oh, no, I don’t want to bother y--”
“No, really, I insist. I wouldn’t wish such a pain on my worst enemy.” He took a thoughtful pause. “Alright, that was a lie. Perhaps a few of them I would, but you know what I mean. Anyhow, you are not my worst enemy, so I do not wish it on you in the slightest.”
“Thank--”
“Stop saying that,” Loki muttered, sounding so much like an annoyed child that you had to suppress another wave of laughter.
“Ok,” you nodded, catching yourself wanting to say thank you again. “Ok, sure. I’ll let you know if I need you.
Loki nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“Well then,” he bowed slightly, lifting your hand to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your knuckles. “I bid you good night.”
“Yeah, uh… night,” you replied, glad it was dark enough that he couldn’t see your fluster. What a dork. Wait, could he see in the dark? You weren’t sure.
Before you had a chance to find out, he was gone.
You didn’t make a habit of going to Loki when your pain got bad. You didn’t want to use him for his magic, and showing up at his doorstep every time you had cramps seemed like a little much, considering they were a regularity in your life. So you decided that you’d only ever seek him out if medicine wasn’t working. Unfortunately for you, that was more common than it probably should have been.
However, you still considered Loki to be your very last resort. Even if your stomach was twisting so painfully that you could hardly move, you tended to grit your teeth and wait it out, just thankful that you didn’t run into him. You were sure the scolding you’d receive would be monumental.
Life went back to relative normalcy after the encounter with Loki -- except for the fact that the god seemed to appear a little more frequently. If you were in the lounge reading, he was there. If you were in the gym training, he often came and watched. And without fail, during your hasty mealtimes in the kitchen, Loki decided to come and make tea -- no matter what time of day it was.
You struggled to not read into what was happening. You definitely didn’t hate it. Loki was a near-constant presence, and, despite how some of the others felt about him, you found that presence to be a calming one.
Over the next few months, you occasionally sought him out for your pain. More often than not, he was the one to seek you out -- somehow noticing your very slight changes in demeanor that meant the cramps had returned, or even when you were having a bad headache. And then, no matter where you were, Loki always managed to snake an arm around you and give you some relief.
He had gotten alarmingly good at noticing other things about you, too -- not just related to your pain. He started to recognize your habits -- where you tended to sit in the various rooms throughout the compound, what time you ate dinner, what time you got up. It would have been almost creepy, had you not felt so touched by it.
And so your relationship got a little weirder every day, much to your mutual enjoyment.
It wasn’t until several months later that you found yourself outside Loki’s door.
You’d fallen asleep feeling fine, only to wake a few hours later to the lovely sensation of your guts being ripped out of your stomach. Groaning miserably, you tried not to burst into tears at the notion of another pain-filled night. You hadn’t been sleeping very well lately, and this was just the icing on the cake.
By now -- and by some miracle -- you had managed to learn your lesson and had stashed a bottle of Advil in your nightstand. Dragging the drawer open, you swallowed the pills with stale, day-old water from a glass you’d forgotten to take back to the kitchen. Flopping back into bed, all you managed to do was wrap an arm around your stomach and curl into the fetal position, praying silently that the pain would go away soon enough.
Fifteen minutes passed and still no relief. Then another ten, and then an hour had gone by. You sat up, biting your lip as tears welled in the corners of your eyes. You’d promised yourself that Loki would be the last resort . And, squinting at the muted glow of your clock, you saw that it was nearly two in the morning. You just couldn’t bring yourself to bother him.
With a wince, you fell back onto your bed, balling your blanket up and curling around it, trying to put some warm pressure on your abdomen. Nothing helped. You tossed and turned, and then you sat up to check the labeling on the bottle of Advil. You’d taken two pills when you’d woken up, and according to the directions, you had to wait six hours before taking any more.
You glanced at the clock, which read 2:30 . You weren’t going to make it. The realization hit you with complete certainty, and suddenly you found yourself stumbling through the hallways, clutching at your stomach like the victim of a knife wound. With how you were feeling, you half expected to see a trail of blood left in your wake.
But the floors remained blood free as you reached Loki’s room. Standing outside his door, you hesitated. The last thing you wanted to do was bother him, but you also didn’t want to walk all the way back to your room. The idea of having to endure another second of pain was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You sniffed, dragging a sleeve across your nose before raising a hesitant hand.
But before you even had a chance to knock, the door was swinging open, and there was Loki in a T-shirt and fuzzy pajama bottoms. You would have laughed if you weren’t already crying.
“Oh darling,” Loki sighed, ushering you into his room.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s so early, I just… oh god, it hurts so bad , and I can’t sleep, and the Advil isn’t working and I can’t take anymore until like eight o’clock, and--”
“Hey, sh, shh... ” Loki, who had been hovering near you, didn’t wait another second before reaching out and pressing his palm against your stomach. Placing his other hand on your lower back, a green glow furled into the room, lighting up your features and pooling onto the floor beneath your feet.
It took a little longer this time for his magic to work, causing Loki’s brow to knit together, mouth slanting into a grim frown. But after a few minutes, you let out a sigh, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulders as relief washed over you.
Loki, too, released a deep breath, and the hand on your back began to rub along your spine.
“How is it now? Better?”
“Yes,” you whispered, a few stray tears curling down your cheek. They darkened the fabric of Loki’s shirt.
“I like your PJ’s,” you murmured, sniffing as you brought a hand up to wipe your face.
Loki laughed, tucking his head on top of yours.
“Thank you, though I’d prefer they remain snot free, if at all possible.”
“Shit, sorry--” You went to pull away, but Loki held you firmly in place.
“I’m just kidding, relax,” he soothed, rubbing between your shoulder blades.
The green light emanating from his fingertips gradually faded, and you were left in the darkness of his room. Still, neither one of you let go. Your eyes grew heavy with exhaustion, and now that you no longer felt like you were being brutally murdered, all you wanted to do was to collapse into sleep.
Loki wasn’t helping. The god was trailing his fingers along your back as if he were tracing lines on a map, and he had begun to sway a little, cheek pressed soothingly against the top of your head.
“Loki,” you managed, voice muffled against his shoulder.
“Hm?”
“If you don’t stop I’m going to fall asleep like right now.”
“Well,” Loki murmured, his low voice rumbling against your chest. “You’d better get in bed, then.”
You straightened up, and Loki helped to guide you back far enough that you could blink up at him. You must have looked utterly baffled because he laughed softly before reaching out to brush the tears off your face with his thumb.
“Unless you’d like me to carry you back to your room?”
It was a genuine offer, and the idea of it made your insides flutter -- a surprisingly welcome feeling, compared to the cramps.
“I’ll be fine--”
“I’m sure you could manage, but please, I insist you stay here for the night.”
You hesitated a moment, but it was long enough for Loki to come to the wrong conclusion.
“Look, if it’s me that’s the problem, I can easily find somewhere else to sleep.”
You shook your head, laying a hand on his chest and hoping that the gesture said all the words you didn’t have the energy to speak. Loki narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
“Alright, then you’re afraid you’re being a bother.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a new conclusion, and he was right. Closing your eyes, you nodded.
“And that’s your only reservation? That you’re bothering me?” This, however, was a question, and he squeezed your arms gently, ducking down so he could meet your eye.
“Yeah,” you replied, wishing that he wasn’t staring into your soul.
Your wish was quickly granted, as the moment the confirmation left your lips, Loki was grabbing your legs and hoisting you into his arms.
“Well in that case,” he purred. “Allow me to put your worries to rest, and you to bed.”
Leaning your head back, you groaned, a tired smile bringing some life into your eyes.
“God, that was so unbelievably cheesy.”
“What? Nonsense, I thought it was very good.”
“Of course you did,” you replied with a smirk so mischievous it could have given him a run for his money. “Just wait until Thor hears about this.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Loki insisted, inching closer and closer to the bed.
You wiggled your eyebrows, and then he was tossing you onto the mattress. You let out a little yelp -- then groaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut.
“What is it? Are they back?” Loki was immediately at your side, his teasing shifting into worry in a manner of seconds.
“No,” you mumbled. “Just… so tired.”
“Say no more,” Loki replied, trailing a finger across your cheek. Then, “You’re sure you don’t want me to leave?”
“Don’t you dare,” you muttered, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down next to you.
He fell with an oof , his amused chuckle sending vibrations from his chest into your hand. Scooching over so there was enough room for the giant Asgardian, you turned to face him and closed your eyes. You could hear the sounds of Loki shifting, and then you felt his warmth as he inched closer to you. When a gentle finger traced across your jaw, you blinked your eyes open. Loki was looking at you, eyes wandering over your features with an emotion you’d never seen on him before. It was something like reverence and worry and… love? Or, at the very least, a sense of caring.
You gazed up at him, your own eyes slightly questioning, even in your exhaustion. But any questions soon melted from your mind as Loki continued to brush his finger along your face -- up to your temple, across your forehead, sliding down the bridge of your nose, and finally, across your cheek. His thumb came up to rest on your chin, and his eyelids fluttered softly.
“I don’t ever want you to be in pain,” he whispered, thumb sweeping along the edge of your bottom lip. “Ever.”
His fingers curled open to gently cup your face, and you sighed, closing your eyes and relishing in the warmth. You heard the soft shuffle of his pillow as Loki tilted his head.
“That’s…” you began, voice heavy with sleep. “Kind of… a part of life, Loki...”
His hand slipped down to your neck.
“Not if I have any say in the matter,” he muttered.
Dragging your eyes open, you squinted up at him and smirked.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I’m keeping you awake, aren’t I?”
You shook your head, smiling contently. As if acting on instinct, you reached out until your fingertips brushed his chest, curling them gently against his shirt. You felt Loki take a stuttering breath before sighing. Leaning closer, his lips brushed your forehead in a feather-light touch. You hummed, pulling yourself close to his warmth.
“Get some sleep, darling,” he murmured.
And you did.
When you woke up, it took you a minute to figure out where you were. Your limbs felt heavy and secure, and you were intoxicatingly warm. You shifted, trying to roll over onto your back, and that’s when you realized what the cause of all those feelings was
Loki’s arms were wrapped around you, fingers splayed out across your stomach.
You took a deep breath, filling your lungs before letting out a sigh. You felt Loki move, but he seemed reluctant to let go of you. Instead, he took a deep breath just like you had -- releasing it slowly. It tickled the back of your neck, raising goosebumps across your skin, and you realized just how close he must be.
When he spoke, you felt as much as heard it.
“How are you feeling?”
“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing yourself against his chest, liking the way he felt against you. He was surprisingly warm, for a frost giant.
Loki made a pleased noise and tucked his chin over the top of your head. And then the events of last night, not to mention the last five minutes, hit you square in the face.
“Um… hey Loki?”
“What?”
“Is this… weird?”
“Is what weird?” He replied, and you could practically hear the furrow in his brow.
“Well, you know. This.” You ran a finger along the back of his hand -- more meaning to gesture than anything else, but you felt his grip on your stomach tighten.
“Sorry.”
“No,” Loki insisted, his voice hushed. You felt him press his nose into your hair. “No, please don’t… I… uhm,” he cleared his throat. “Do you…. Find it weird? Because I don’t find it weird, if--”
“Okay,” you replied, letting your finger trail down his hand. He stiffened again, as if his grip on you was the only thing keeping him from disappearing.
“Okay,” he breathed.
“Hey, uh... thanks for last night. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Likely be miserable, is my guess.” And just like that, hesitant Loki was gone, replaced once again with the usual, unbearably flirtatious God of Mischief.
“Ah, you’re right,” you played along. “My life would be pretty miserable without you. Though, probably a lot quieter-- hey!” You wriggled as Loki poked you in the ribs. Shoving yourself further against his chest, you tried to evade his hands.
“I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite catch it, but it almost sounded as if you were agreeing with me.”
“L-lo-- ow , Loki knock it off,” you snorted, kicking his legs. But he only chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you firmly.
“You should tell me I’m right more often,” he purred into your ear.
“Absolutely not. If your head gets any bigger it'll fall right off your shoulders.”
Loki exhaled a laugh that brought goosebumps to your skin before pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply, he let the breath out in a sigh that carried the sound of a smile.
“This is actually kind of nice,” you murmured. Loki inched his nose up to behind your ear.
“Yes…” he softly replied. “I have to agree.”
“Well, like you said: you’re much better than Advil,” you smirked, and a laugh vibrated against your back.
“Oh dear, you’re agreeing with me again . Are you feeling alright, love?”
Tugging against his arms, you turned so you were facing him. He leaned back an inch, fingers hovering over your shoulder blades, and gave you a look like he was worried about what you might do next.
“I’m feeling just fine,” you replied. Loki’s eyes softened.
“Good. That’s the way I like it.” He returned your smile, then took a stalling breath, leaning towards you as if he wanted to say something.
But he was interrupted by the familiar blaring of F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s alert system.
“ Team meeting… All members report to the common area… Team meeting… ” She repeated her message, and Loki rolled his eyes up to the ceiling so dramatically that his whole head followed.
“Alright mister grumpy pants, I guess you have to let me up now.”
“No I don’t,” Loki muttered childishly, tightening his arms around your waist like a boa constrictor.
“Mmm, if you don’t, I’ll tell F.R.I.D.A.Y to get Thor…”
“Don’t even dare, you little minx,” Loki insisted.
Raising your eyebrows challengingly, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth -- only for it to be covered by Loki’s hand, which nearly enveloped half of your face.
You gave a muffled shout, your own hands coming up to grab at his wrist, but you didn’t make a move to pull him away. Maybe because you knew if you did, he’d let go. Maybe because you didn’t want him to.
So instead, you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, a silent, pleading look. His gaze narrowed fiercely before he gave up with an exasperated huff, releasing his hold on your mouth.
“Never look at me like that again,” he muttered, dragging himself upright.
“Aw, it’s just ‘cause you love me so much,” you teased, giving him a little jab in the side before untangling your legs from the covers.
Loki had gone still, and after a moment of not a sound coming from his direction, you looked over to find him seemingly deep in thought.
“Loki?” You meekly began, and he snapped right out of it, almost like a computer rebooting.
“Right, yes. We’d better get moving before Stark comes knocking on doors.”
You nodded, for some reason feeling reluctant to leave Loki’s room. It was silly, really -- this was only of one of the few times you’d ever been in it, and certainly the first time you’d slept in it. But you wouldn’t have minded spending more time here.
You quickly shook that thought from your head. It was too dangerous to let it linger, and besides, this couldn’t become a habit. You weren’t exactly sure why, but it just couldn’t. Giving another little shake, you stood.
“Alright, well. I guess I’ll sneak back to my room and try to get changed before anyone notices.”
“Yes. Of course,” Loki replied, sounding a little lost. Then, seeming to return to his usual self, he added, “I hope your sneaking skills are above average -- I’m sure we don’t want people seeing you leave my room in the early hours of the morning.”
“Hm, true,” you playfully agreed. “We should probably have a story or something. Like you found a bug and called me to come squish it for you.”
“Uh, no one would believe that,” Loki scrunched his nose resentfully.
“Mmm, I don’t know. I think they would.”
Feigning a fearsome scowl, Loki launched a pillow at you.
“Hey,” you yelped, dodging out of the way and heading for the door. “Is this how you treat all your overnight guests?”
“Hardly. Though, most of my overnight guests aren’t walking quite as well as you are once I’m done with them.”
“Oh my god,” you choked, nearly combusting on the spot.
“Yes,” Loki tilted his head. “They say that, too.”
“Alright, I’m leaving and never coming back. Goodbye, this has been… well, it’s been.”
You gave a little wave, hesitating just long enough to catch Loki shaking his head, an amused grin on his face.
You weren’t sure how you’d expected your relationship with Loki to go after having literally slept with him. Though it was obvious that he hadn’t been opposed to it, you couldn’t tell if he’d enjoyed it, or even what that would mean if he had. So, when things went back to the way they’d been before -- with Loki bumping into you occasionally, making friendly banter, and generally checking in to see how you were -- you weren’t exactly surprised.
Confused, maybe a little, but surprised? No.
You got the idea that Loki was just like that. He was flirtatious with almost everybody he liked, and even those that he didn’t, if the situation called for it, so for your friendship to go back to normal -- or at least, however normal a friendship with Loki could be -- it was a welcome sense of, well... normalcy .
As had become the usual, Loki appeared at random intervals in your week. He wished you good morning, somehow always in the kitchen at the exact same time as you. He sat by and read while you worked on some field notes in the large recreation room that also doubled as the library. Once he even walked you back to your room after a team movie night.
It was nearly two weeks after The Incident, as you’d come to refer to it in your mind, before the two of you actually talked about it. Well, sort of.
You were standing in the kitchen waiting for a pot of water to warm up, teabag already in an ‘I love NY’ mug that Peter had accidentally left behind during one of his stays at the compound, when Loki sidled up behind you.
You had heard him enter, turning around to pass him a friendly smile before your attention was drawn away by the shrill whistling of the kettle. Wincing as it quickly grew in volume, you reached forward to move it off the hot burner and switch off the stove.
When you turned back around, kettle in hand, you were met with a rather peculiar-looking Loki. You had gotten used to the many faces the god wore over the time you’d known him, but this one was different and… a bit scary. Not in the usual sense -- because it was threatening or generally mischievous -- but because he looked almost anxious .
You figured it was bad news if the Price of Asgard had anything to be worried about.
“Hey, Loki. How’s it going?” You offered, keeping your voice gentle. It felt like you were talking to a scared child -- and based on the way Loki was looking, you might not be that far off.
“Fine,” He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “Quite well… And yourself?”
Okay, now you were really worried. When had Loki ever been one to waste time on small talk? Especially with you.
“Uh, good. Yeah, good.” You smiled again, figuring that, since Loki hadn’t left yet, he would get around to saying whatever was on his mind.
Willing to be patient, you filled your mug, or rather, Peter’s mug -- which, the more you thought about it, you were pretty sure Sam and Bucky stole -- with hot water. Setting the kettle back on the counter, you tugged on the string of your teabag, watching the little cloud of steam curling into the air. A minute passed before Loki moved even an inch -- and then it was only to shift his weight from one hip to the other. You guessed that meant he was about to say something, and sure enough, a moment later he stood up and cleared his throat.
“I’ve been doing some research,” he said, moving over to the other side of the island to be closer to you. Glancing up, he swiftly caught your eyes with his.
“You what?” You asked, not quite understanding. But Loki ignored your question in favor of finishing his statement.
“And I don’t think your amount of pain is normal.”
You straightened up at that, mind immediately going to the only thing he could be talking about.
“I don’t know--” You’d started to say, but Loki’s lips formed a firm, determined line.
“Usually there’s a reason for a severe amount of pain, especially if it's debilitating, or… or hindering your daily life.” Loki raised his eyebrows imploringly, resting a hand on the countertop.
“Look, I don’t know much about Midgaridans, but… I think perhaps you would benefit from seeing a doctor.”
You opened your mouth, wondering what you could possibly say. Loki had witnessed your pain, and though he hadn’t understood it, he’d made an effort to learn more about it. Not only that, but he was still concerned for you, and he’d had the courage to tell you about it. That was so unbelievably sweet of him, your brain could hardly comprehend it.
So all you could manage to say was, “Is this your nice way of telling me our little arrangement is over?”
It had been your attempt at a joke, but Loki wasn't laughing.
“Absolutely not,” he gently replied, hands shifting across the countertop. “Just… consider it, that’s all I ask.”
“...Okay,” you said after a moment. Then you nodded. “Okay, yeah… I can do that.”
Loki let out a sigh, smiling softly.
“Good… thank you,” he nodded. You tilted your head, confused by the thoughtfulness of his gesture. But then again, perhaps you shouldn’t have been. At his core, Loki was a caring person. People just thought differently because they never gave him the chance to show that side of himself. But here he was, showing it to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.
“Thank you, Loki.”
He opened his mouth, face twisting into his usual argumentative expression, and you raised a hand before he had a chance to say anything.
“I know, but just shut up for a minute, okay? Thank you for… well… just for being you.” You shrugged, and Loki snapped his mouth shut before staring at you with such a conflicted look that you were afraid you’d broken him. But then he looked down at his feet, and that conflicted look morphed into one of almost timid hesitancy.
“You know,” he began. “You don’t need an excuse to come find me. I… I suppose you’re alright company. For a mortal, that is.”
In a single breath, Loki had managed to somehow compliment you, insult you, and extend a confirmation of friendship that had you forgetting any doubts that you might have had.
“Hey thanks,” you replied, smirking. “You’re pretty alright, too. For a god, that is.”
He scoffed, flashing you a toothy grin, and held his arms out.
“What can I say? I’m rather fantastic.”
“Okay, take it easy there. I said pretty alright .”
You both laughed, Loki ducking his head in the closest thing to bashful you'd probably ever see from him. But then he lifted his eyes to yours, and suddenly you were looking at someone who had lived hundreds of years of life. Someone who was wise.
"But truly," he murmured, nodding to you. "You're not a bother. I may not be the most proficient at showing you that, but it's true all the same -- and do not say thank you, please," Loki held up a hand, laughing softly.
"Okay, okay," you surrendered, smiling at your feet. "But, um… you too, yeah? You're not a bother either."
Loki nodded once, pursing his lips as pain flashed briefly behind his eyes. But then he was smiling at you -- one of his soft, rare smiles that were genuine and true, coming straight from his soul.
From that point on, you slept in your room a lot less.