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"Do you love me?"
It's soft, a gentle barely whisper that the older God was sure he would have missed if it wasn't for his excellent sense of hearing. The words are spoken in a language he understands, his mother tongue, but they feel foreign and thick in his ears as if the question asked of him is in a language he has never heard before. He does not understand.
But he does understand, of course he does. He isn't stupid, but the words are heavy, dripping into his ears like water and making them feel clogged, thoughts clouded in murky depths. He understands the concept of love and to be loved, but he can only count the number of times he's had those words uttered to him before and all times have ever come from his mothers.
Never the All-Father, never his siblings, never a lover he has taken to bed.
He feels constricted, trapped like a rabbit inside the coils of the python on top of him. He needs to breathe, to collect his thoughts but Loki seems to cling impossibly tighter around him with every breath. He's not the prey, never has been and never will be and even pathetic animals like rabbits have claws and teeth.
And so he uses them.
"And that is enough of this, sunshine," he murmurs, large hands wrapping around Loki's hips and harshly yanking the half breed off of his lap. He had been enjoying the post coitus pampering, Loki's fingers clumsily attempting to re braid his hair but his mood had soured the moment those words left the halfling's mouth. "Out you get, I want to sleep."
"You're just kicking me out? At this time?"
Heimdall can feel the tension setting in his jaw at the audacity of the little giant. First he (successfully) tries to get his grubby little hands all over him and now he wants to stay? After what he had just murmured?
Not a chance.
Heimdall grunts, making a show of stretching his body out now he finds himself free of the other's grip and twists his wrists until they make a satisfying crack. His bracers had constricted his wrists the past few days, he would need to get those sorted or he would be forever cracking the stiffness out of his joints. His eyes had drifted shut so once he opened them, he's almost startled to see rainbow adorned blue gazing back at him.
Almost .
"Yes, runt, you have more than outstayed your welcome," the god of foresight covers his mouth as he yawns, before sharply turning his body to the side and settling against the lavishly plush bed. "I'm tired, you're being too needy and no doubt The All-Father will be expecting you tomorrow. Go to bed, Loki, your own bed." He quickly adds, feeling Loki's intent of settling behind him before the giant can even get a knee onto the mattress.
"You're an asshole..!"
"Yes, yes, heard it all before," he mumbles out against the pillow, hearing Loki adjusting his many belts, why the boy needed more than one was lost on him but he never found the time to ask or want to ask,listening intently to the other storm around his floors. He hears the harsh yank of a quiver against his well polished table and lets himself settle. "Loki?"
"Yes?" There's hope dripping off of every word.
Heimdall tries to not gag.
"Shut the door behind you."
He also tries his best to not get up and strangle Loki when he hears the slam of the door, hard enough to rattle hinges against the wood. Little brat.
"What are you doing?"
He watches as the little runt scurries up out of the straw, using Gulltoppr to support his weight as his legs come to life. Gulltoppr merely grunts a greeting towards her rider before she lazily stretches out on her front paws, claws digging dangerously into the ground below her.
"Um. Sleeping?"
"In Gulltoppr's stall ?"
It was a sight that had caused Heimdall to double take when he had woken up this morning. In truth, he hadn't slept much, not as if he needed it, but an uneasy feeling of guilt settled deep in his gut. It had kept him awake most of the night, body fidgety and the need to go out and check the boy hadn't fallen off of the wall almost forcing him out of his comfortable bed.
Almost , but not quite.
So to step outside of Himinbjörg and to see the plague of his worries curled up peacefully in his mount's stall, Gulltoppr encasing Loki almost protectively and her massive head resting on the boy's legs, made him sigh in relief. But, it also lit the flame of irritation inside of him. He had told Loki to go home, not to make his mighty beast into a cuddly kitten.
"Well, it was dark and I didn't want to die falling off the wall and I asked and Gully said it was oka-"
"- Gully ?"
"Gulltoppr?"
The little shit had sullied Gulltoppr's name, dragged it through the mud, ruined it. Heimdall could feel his jaw clench and he was sure he was able to almost hear the gold chipping. He watches, eyes boring down as Loki fidgets with the belt encasing his armour, fucking brat.
"So, I uh, I stayed here. Me and Gully- Gulltoppr just talked, mostly about you, she agrees you're a shithea-"
Loki's words are halted as the lion-like animal swats her tail and hits the little giant straight in that lying, sinning mouth. He watches the smaller god sputter and spit out fur and straw into the bedding below, blue eyes frowning towards the creature that could have easily engulfed his head in one bite as she rumbles low in her throat.
"Rude."
The older god almost snorts at Loki's comment, watching as the boy brushes strands of hay out of his hair and he reaches over to pluck a stubborn piece out of the short auburn locks, ignoring the sparks it sent through himself and the drowning pools of blue gazing up at him, threatening to drown him in adoration.
He abruptly flicks Loki in between those eyes, lips quirking upwards at the yelp he receives.
"Do not try and sway my beast against me, giant," he sneers as he bends to an uncomfortable angle, now eyeline with the brat who was furiously rubbing at the red mark forming upon his pale skin. "It will not work."
"I wasn't- ugh. It was a joke, Heimdall. You could kick me in the face right here in front of Gully and she would say it was an accident."
Heimdall's brow raises. Now, there was an idea. Loki's hands also raise, held out between them.
"Don't even think about it, we all know it's true and doesn't need to be tested."
Heimdall decides he's had enough of listening to the giant, turning gracefully on his heel and retrieves Gulltoppr's saddle. He gives a small smile when she presses her snout into his side and purrs before she straightens out to make it easier for the god. He tosses the heavy leather onto the beast's back and feels the intent of Loki grabbing the other side. If the little shit wants to help, who was he to refuse? Plus, it would save the time he had wasted on this pointless exchange, patrols needed doing after all. It's what he tells himself anyways, despite finding his gaze drifting over to the half breed, watching as Loki fumbles with placing the stirrup the correct way. How had a monster and a brute created such a dainty creature? He would never know.
Or ask, for that matter.
Gripping the saddle horn, Heimdall pulls himself up and onto Gulltoppr with ease. He leans backwards to avoid falling off when the animal stretches her massive body once more and feels Loki's eyes on his face.
"What?"
"Can I come with you?"
"No."
He rolls his eyes when Loki puffs his lips out in a pout. It seemed to be instinctual for the brat to resort to childishness when not getting his own way, surely the infamous God Killer did not fall for this trickery?
Heimdall would not.
Loki moves closer and it gets the god of foresight's attention once more, auburn eyebrows arched and eyes gazing up at him in an expression that could only be described as puppy dog eyes. How fitting. Yet, he found himself lowering a hand down to the boy, planning on helping Loki climb aboard.
Fuck.
He would .
"Get on," he grouches, snagging the little brat's wrist and yanks him upwards a little too forcefully. Loki doesn't complain, even as he shuffles awkwardly on his stomach before managing to swing his legs over Gulltoppr's flanks, wrapping his slender arms around Heimdall's waist and he can feel the giant's beaming grin through his tunic when his face pressed against his shoulder blades Ugh. "I'm only dropping you off at the lodge. No if's, no but's, the All-Father will be waiting for you."
"Thank you."
"Whatever, brat."
"Lord Heimdall?"
The voice is soft but sultry, whispered in a tone that promised him everything and Heimdall finds himself intrigued. He's definitely heard it before but he's unable to recognise the woman leaning down in front of him, soft teal peering down while partially braided brown locks skim his knees, tits almost kissing the tip of his nose. While he would have liked this before.. he finds himself confusingly annoyed with the woman's presence. He had sensed her coming of course, but was curious to know why a whore would be walking up to a god such as himself and had allowed this pitiful act of seduction.
"What?"
"I have noticed you haven't asked for my services anymore. You do remember I'm Brefitta, right? I've missed you."
Ew. The desperation is practically dripping from her and Heimdall glances around the tavern. It's grotty, he can practically see the dirt dancing in the air but it was one of the only places he could come and enjoy the peace of not hearing Thor's barking laughter and having to dodge tankards when the big lug would get rowdy. He wonders if anyone is missing their woman, scanning the room but only finding half soaked gods and even drunker mortals and-
Wait, Loki? Why in the nine realms was he here? He wasn't a drinker, Heimdall had seen the younger god refuse and reject any drink offered to him so why..?
He hears the belly laugh from the other side of the room and the unmistakable slam of an empty glass rattling wood. Right. Daddy's little drunk was here and loyal dog Loki would be right behind. It was unexpected but what made Heimdall truly hesitate was Loki himself and the pure jealousy in his face as the giant glared daggers into Brefitta's back.
Oh.
Oh.
How precious. Heimdall was going to have fun .
Pretending he hadn't noticed the half breed on the other side of the room, he lets his hand slither around Brefitta's waist. It's subtle, but the chipping of moist wood breaking underneath Loki's fingernails was delightful. Jealousy was always regarded as an ugly emotion but seeing it shimmer on Loki's face?
He didn't think he had seen anything more beautiful. And utterly dizzying. He wanted to see it all the time, it was making him greedy and needy.
"I apologise, sweetheart," he drawls, flattery dripping like sweet honey from his words while he pulls the woman onto his lap. From this, he can peer over the whore's shoulder at Loki, drinking in the pure anger and possessiveness radiating off of the brat. It made him drunk, stronger than any alcohol he had ever tasted and feeling more powerful than wielding Hofund. "I haven't had much time to myself, it's rather stressful.."
"I could help with that."
"Mm, bet you could."
He lets himself keep up appearances and mouths at Brefitta's exposed shoulder. Honestly, it always surprised him that mortal prostitutes would happily wear next to nothing during Fimbulwinter. Surely it was cold? Her giggle hurts his head and he bites his tongue to stop himself from shuddering at the shrillness in his ears. Why did everyone have to be so fucking loud?
The tugging on the neckline of his shirt infuriates him, the claws the whore called nails making a plucking sound on the fabric that almost made him buck her off his lap, did this woman not know fine linen? But he's able to swallow down the venom building on his tongue, instead nosing at Brefitta's throat as his eyes lock onto Loki's. The halfling in question seems to not register their eyes meeting and Heimdall shivers involuntary, feeling transparent as the ocean in those eyes seem to freeze over, allowing Heimdall to see into his thoughts. Images of Brefitta being dragged off of his lap, Loki taking her place, making Heimdall regret touching another.. now there was the god of chaos, the doombringer of Asgard, the pure longing for destruction flowing through those traitorous veins.
It excites him and he bucks slightly, making the woman gasp right into his ear and he pulls back slightly to study her. She was pretty, borderline beautiful but everyone was ruined to him now. No one could compete with the redhead across from him, part of him felt disgusted being touched by someone else. But Loki's fury egged him on, filling him with a delicious possessive feeling only to be ripped away before he could get his fill.
It wasn't enough.
So he leans forward, snatching the woman's mouth with his own and bites down on her bottom lip, hard. The moan she emits makes him pull away, licking his own lips as he glances at Loki once more, only to meet an empty seat. When the fuck had the little brat left? He suddenly raises, basically tossing Brefitta to the rotting floor and looks around, ignoring the whore's shrieking. Fuck. He had to find Loki.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"A lot."
He steps over her, uncaring and cold but he doesn't care. She was just a player in the game and now it seemed it was over, Loki disappearing in the midst of it. There's a stabbing sensation in his chest and a whisper of 'you went too far' but he brushes it off, he and Loki weren't together so he could do as he pleased. He moves with the crowd, dodging disgustingly drunk and sweaty bodies as he makes his way out, glaring at the twilight lit streets of Asgard. Seems the half-bred could move when pissed off. He sighs, masking his worry with annoyance as he picks a random direction.
Best go find the little shit.
It takes a lot longer than he had expected, Heimdall looking in the places he had assumed the moody half god would have run to. But he wasn't shooting arrows at the targets in the training field, nowhere to be found in the great lodge and even Himinbjörg felt cold and empty without the other's presence. He had grown agitated, the high from the tavern quickly leaving and being replaced with annoyance and worry.
He drops down into the grass and quickly spins around at the low growl. He unsheathes Hofund, twisting the familiar weight in his palm as he braces, waiting for an attack as his eyes dart around, looking for the beast. He quickly turns at the flooding feeling of intent of being bitten, jabbing Hofund out which clashes against the beast's jaws.
Animals were so predictable.
Or so he thought, lurching forwards when Hofund is yanked and he stumbles ungracefully, boots slipping on the muddy ground. The wolf growls, jaws clamped firmly down on his blade and Heimdall frowns at the blood beginning to drip and stain the wet grass.
"Let go, pup. You're hurting yourself."
He gets a snarl in return and he's pulled forward, reluctantly letting go of Hofund so the brat wouldn't injure himself further and he feels his left eye twitching in annoyance when Loki tosses it, landing blade first into the ground and sinking into the soft mud. Oh, he was going to make Loki clean the sword until it was sparkling and transparent.
Loki snaps and growls.
"I can't understand you, idiot."
Loki snaps the air, having the audacity to go at his face once and Heimdall's patience runs dry. He grabs the fluffy scruff of the wolf's neck and slams him down onto his side, knees resting against Loki's flank in a way he knows must be uncomfortable. He holds steady as Loki squirms and whines, upper lip still curled upwards and his fangs gleam in the moonlight.
"Enough! Calm yourself right now before we both do something we'll regret."
The wolf stills and Heimdall breathes outwards, only to flail when Loki kicks up his struggling, teeth mashing together and the growls coming from him would be terrifying if the older god didn't know what a runt Loki was. Seems anger wasn't the way to fight rage and so, keeping his firm hold on the back of the brat's neck with his left hand, he brings the other up to an ear and softly strokes. Loki was fluffy, soft and adorable like this. Wolves were predators, something to be feared, Loki looked more like a teddy bear.
"Enough. You're okay, just breathe.."
The moments are tense and feel like long minutes, the ice covering those eyes melting back into water as the wolf relaxes in his hold before golden sparks begin to emit from his body. Heimdall watches as the wolf's form is enveloped before the sparks simmer and die down, Loki taking the wolf's place. His head is turned away and eyes watching the gentle sway of the trees.
"What the fuck was that about?"
Loki spits blood, pushing at Heimdall's chest in an attempt to get the golden god off of him as he tries sitting up. Heimdal doesn't budge and Loki gives in, settling back onto the grass.
"Lok-"
"Fuck off. Just fuck off and go back to that girl."
Heimdall's eyebrows knit together and his jaw snaps itself shut to stop himself biting back. He leans back slightly so he can take in the complete defeat on the half-breed's face, red encasing blue in the telltale sign of crying. Heimdall should be relishing it, Loki was the enemy after all, why not enjoy the mongrel's torment?
But he felt sick. Guilty. He had thought it would be fun, riling the god under him up like Loki would (unknowingly) do to Heimdall every day. Seeing Loki get so worked up and they would end up fucking the moment they were alone, regardless of location. He didn't expect it to have such a negative reaction on the other. He sighs softly, breath tickling Loki's face and causing his nose to crinkle.
"Jealous little thing.."
"I'm not-"
He cuts Loki off with a harsh kiss, teeth clanking together in a way that's painful and makes him want to pull away, but he doesn't, instead squeezing his eyes shut in a grimace. He pushes his tongue past the half-breed's lips and lazily explores, claiming everything he could find. He pulls away and chuckles at Loki's whine and attempts to follow his mouth with his own, instead leaning down enough so he could press his forehead to the younger's. He finds himself smiling back at Loki before letting his eyes flutter shut.
It's tender and speaks the words Heimdall was too cowardly to say but it seems he can't leave anything on a sweet note.
"You're pretty hot when you're jealous."
Heimdall doesn't dodge the slap to his chest.
"How are you so pretty?"
"Umm..?"
His patrols had long finished and the day had grown rather dull. Deciding he wanted some peace, Heimdall had settled on the wall overlooking the village with his newest book in his lap.
That was until the toddler trio had decided to show up underneath him at the training grounds. They couldn't see him so that was a plus, he refused to be roped into their stupidity and childish games. At first, he had tried ignoring them, willing his ears to tune out those damn voices.
"Yeah, like, I know you're a guy and it makes me wanna challenge you to a brawl," the blonde mortal, Skjoldr? Yes, Skjoldr, had exclaimed and made the golden god glance down at them from his perch, snorting through his nose. He had seen the mortal put on this big and brave bravado for Thrud before. It made him want to slit the mortal's throat and then his own. He was about to go back to his book until that little rat continued. "But.. you're also kinda, uh, girly? Makes me wanna get you flowers or something.."
What?
"Skjoldr, that's so sappy."
For once, Heimdall found himself agreeing with the red headed menace he reluctantly called a niece. And then Loki opened his traitorous mouth.
"I actually think it's pretty sweet, my mother used to bring me flowers when I was sick." The half-bred spoke and Heimdall's eyes narrowed. Why was the little fucker amusing the blonde bag of wind? "I miss them."
What Loki meant by him missing 'them', Heimdall wasn't sure and it seemed the other two brats didn't either.
"Maybe I could bring you and Thrud some."
Ugh. Bleh.
"No, you're okay."
Heimdall made a mental note to slyly leave Thrud his portion of dessert at dinner tonight. Sure, he and the burly brat rarely (never) saw eye to eye but the crestfallen look on Skjoldr's face after hearing Thrud's words made him almost happy to be her uncle. Then Loki spoke up once more and Heimdall can hear the groan of the metal plating on his kilt bending when he grips it.
"I'd love that, so would Thrud," Loki scolds and nudges his elbow into the girl's side who groans, throws her head back and gazes up at the clear blue sky before fixing a grin at the nervous blond. "Right?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Did Loki just have everyone under his thumb?
He dry heaves when Skjoldr's face lights up enough he's almost blinded from his perch. The idiots start yammering about something he doesn't catch and he forces himself to focus on his book. It works. Especially when the three start chasing each other in turns like children would and Heimdall finds himself engrossed in a few chapters before he hears a soft thud and Thrud's bellowing laughter. Did she have to be as loud as her drunkard father?
He gives up reading, snapping the book shut with more force than necessary before he whistles. He taps his foot as Gulltoppr makes her way over and he slides it into her saddlebag, preparing to pull himself up onto the beast's back when he casts one final gaze over his shoulder at the trio down below, feeling his stomach twist in a flurry of emotions he hadn't felt in a long time.
Jealousy.
Rage.
Hurt..?
Skjoldr has Loki trapped underneath his skinny body, a shit eating grin that Heimdall doesn't even see but knows it's there. He turns, eyes narrowing down at the group and expects Loki to bring out a knee and hit the fool where it hurts or at least twist out of the others grasp but the giant does none of this, laughter puffing out from those scarred lips which makes the blonde locks sway.
"Got you! Y'know, for a god, you're awfully easy to knock down."
Heimdall doesn't hear Loki's reply, he's already descending the wall. Years and years of experience and monotony are proving useful as his feet instinctively find their footing in the little crevices, scaling his way down with ease. The little shits don't even see him, too busy being occupied with each other but now that he's closing in, he can hear them clearer and his blood is boiling.
"I was going easy on you!"
"Yeah, right, princess. I don't know how many doors I've had to push open for you."
"Thrud!"
"She's not wrong, Loki, you are pretty smal-"
The older god's feet have barely hit the dirt of the training pitch when he hears another scuffle, whipping around in time to see Loki finally schooling the mortal. The halfbreed is now on top, knees over Skjoldr's hips as his tattooed hand rests on blondie's chest. Heimdall swears Loki's eyes find his own, mirth swimming inside of those pools but once he blinks, those pools are locked onto Skjoldr's and not his own, trapping the mortal in their drowning depths.
"How's that?"
"I, um.. uh.. Thrud? Help?"
"Damn, Loki, where were you hiding that stre-'' Thrud starts before she shoots a look over at Heimdall. Her nose crinkles in anger and the god of foresight grins, flashing his golden teeth spitefully. "Ugh. What do you want?"
"What a delightful greeting towards your own family. I just wanted to come over, give you some tips after watching for a little while," Heimdall grins, the bifrost once again locking with the ocean and he indulges himself into Loki's thoughts. It's cute, at first, Loki trying to hide among his memories but Heimdall has played this game before, cascading his way through the fakery as if it was an annoying fog disturbing his view from Himinbjörg, only to pause. Loki wanted him to go away. Loki wanted Skjoldr. Loki didn't want him. "You'd all be better as the target dummy, absolutely abysmal."
"Get lost."
Ugh. Brat. He and Thrud had always clashed, she hated him the moment she laid those beady little baby eyes on him and he had thought Thor could have produced nothing viler than himself. He was dead wrong, it seemed the drunken buffoon had created a female version of himself but with more attitude.
"No."
He doesn't need his foresight to tell him Thrud wants to hit him, watching the way her fingers twitch and brush against the hilts of her blades and he cocks an eyebrow at her, a silent challenge. She does not respond to it and Heimdall wonders if that's the smartest thing she's ever done in her short little life, the redhead instead turning heel and storming away like the princess she was and so he turns his head to the other two.
"Get off the poor brat, he probably doesn't even know what to do with it so stop hoping he'll take you here and now."
It's spiteful, even he's surprised at the jealousy baring its fangs in his voice, but it's quickly replaced with a sense of smugness as he watches Loki scramble off the other boy, Skjoldr's face almost matching the colour of the half breed's hair. How sickening. He glowers at the blond, showing a hint of gold between his lips and it sends the idiot running with his tail between his legs, murmuring a polite 'lord' to him and a half assed excuse to Loki about finding Thrud. Heimdall is about to speak but Loki beats him to it.
"What's your problem?"
Loki seems to regret the attitude before Heimdall can even turn to face him, hands gripping the boy's tunic and yanking their faces together close enough their noses bump. He ignores the sparks fluttering over his skin again, burning holes into Loki who's own eyes seem to be trying to pull him down and drown him into some feelings god only knows what.
"So, that's the best you can do? You're that weak and pathetic some fucking mortal can overpower you and take what he wants?"
Then it clicks. The thoughts Loki had so successfully shielded and hidden away from him now at a finger tips touch, breaking through the fog like the sun appearing after a rainstorm. The little shit had wanted this, 'revenge' Loki reasoned with himself, 'make him jealous' . He drops the giant spawn and relishes in the 'oof' spilled from those traitorous lips, crouching down before Loki can right himself and snarls.
"Do that again and I'll make sure everyone knows who you belong to, wench."
He does his best to ignore the conflicting feelings battling inside his chest and the smug thoughts Loki throws at him, stomping out of the training grounds.
He needs some mead. A lot of it.
"What did you want my answer to be?"
"It.. it's a riddle, Heimdall. You're supposed to figure it out yourself." Loki murmurs, eyes not meeting his own as the little giant whittles away at the wood in his hands, knife scraping the excess bark away with efficiency. "If I tell you the answer then you'll have to admit I beat you."
"You have not defeated me and you never will, even in these childish games, pup."
"They're not- for the love of- Heimdall , it's not a game it's a riddle. Just for fun, that's it. No winners, no losers, just a simple puzzle for your brain. Do you need me to repeat it?" Loki's reply is exasperated, hands moving as he speaks and Heimdall's eyes are immediately attracted to the knife gleaming in the light. Loki seems to notice as well, pausing his movements before going back to his arrow crafting, shifting slightly on the rotten tree trunk he had deemed a seat.
"No."
"Okay."
A gentle silence falls over the two, only disturbed by the ripping sound of the blade tearing through wood and the occasional sip of mead against the older god's lips. He finds himself drifting back to that riddle, brows furrowing as his mind tries to pick apart the words and form an answer.
'I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I'm sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many, or just one. What am I?' L oki had randomly asked while the two had walked to their 'spot' as the little one had called it. It was just an overgrown patch in Asgard, the trees hanging low and clearly having not been tended too and the grass would tickle their knees, the shallow water that could barely be called a pond reflecting the sky and their reflections like a mirror, but it was theirs and Heimdall often found himself here. He tried to convince himself it was because he enjoyed the beauty of something neglected, that he liked the peace and solitude it provided. But he found he loved seeing the bane of his existence traipsing through the overgrown weeds towards him more.
Heimdall had frowned, both at the weird words Loki had uttered onto him and his own betraying thoughts.
'Excuse me?'
'It's a riddle. Mimir and me, we would often indulge in them. I was never any good but-'
'- What a shocker. I'm not sure you're good at anythin-'
'- It was a fun way to pass the time.' Loki had continued, rolling the other god's insult off of his shoulders. Tsk. Maybe he needed new insults or to add more venom to his voice when insulting the giant, it seemed he was gaining a tolerance towards the cruel words. 'I miss it.'
So Heimdall had allowed himself to play along, drinking from his mug and enjoying the warmth the alcohol soaked into his bones. He'd catch Loki's gaze every so often with his own, rainbow hues gleaming with amusement and Heimdall convinced himself the flutter in his stomach was from drinking on an empty stomach.
"Are you hope?"
"Nope."
"Fucksake."
Back to thinking then, Heimdall supposed, gingerly sitting himself down on the ground. The dirt was dry but it still didn't change the fact it could stain his clothing, giving a soldering glare to the other who only chuckled at him. Brat.
"Surely then, you are loyalty?"
"Try again."
Heimdall clenches his jaw. Loki smiles.
"You'll ruin your teeth like that."
"Love."
Loki freezes and Heimdall blinks to make sure he hadn't accidentally activated his bifrost abilities, the piece of ripped up twig floating gently in the breeze before settling against the blades of grass also confirms he hadn't somehow lost control. The other quickly catches himself, giving the god of foresight a thumbs up which causes his blade to fall and sink into the ground with a soft 'thunk'.
"Y-yeah! Well done, you got it."
"Of course I did. Now, answer my question."
"What quest-"
"What did you want my answer to be, back that night in Himinbjörg?"
He watches the confusion melt away from Loki's features into pure embarrassment, cheeks setting alight with colour as auburn locks bounce with the movement of Loki's head turning away.
"Oh! Um.. let's just leave it, yeah? It was silly, stupid, haha-"
Heimdall rolls his eyes at the pathetic display but sees into Loki's thoughts, untrusting of the brat to answer truthfully in his flustered state.
'I wanted you to say yes.'
'I wanted you to say you loved me.'
'I love you.'
It sends him reeling. He's pretty sure the only ones that loved him were his mothers and he hadn't seen them in centuries. They were probably dead by now and the thought leaves him feeling empty. The ones who actually, truly cared for him were long gone and he hadn't ever found anyone he actually considered special in all these years and yet, Loki seemed to unravel the walls he had built around himself as if he was a piece of yarn in the few months they had known each other. It pissed him off and excited him in ways he couldn't word, the destroyer of Asgard, the one Heimdall was supposed to stop, had wormed his way under his skin and made him itch in a way only Loki could soothe.
He was a failure.
"Heimdall?"
Loki's concern spills from his tone, gentle hand resting on his bracer. It seems the giant had been talking still and gotten no reply from the other god. But Heimdall found it hard to come out of his head, doubts and self loathing sinking its claws in deep and stringing him along in his torment. Had he fallen for the one that would take everything he held dear away from him? Had he truly succumbed to Loki's manipulation?
But.. Loki was the only one to make him feel in years, to make him long for touch and not shy away from it, to make him actually open up and not shut everyone out after reading their minds. He was so confused, conflicted, he felt like a traitor and that he didn't deserve any sort of happiness but another part of him wanted to finally be selfish, to finally allow himself to experience things he had never been able to before. If Heimdall jumped, how long would it be before he drowned? Would the high be worth it before everything sunk?
"Heimda-"
"Yes."
"Oh, so you are okay? You worried me."
"No, you bloody buffoon, I am saying yes to your question."
Doubts began to creep in as soon as the words had left his mouth. The All-Father would never allow this, he was basically spilling his guts to the enemy, what if he was deemed a traitor? He'd never fight it, if the All-Father deemed it to be, he would happily spill his blood.
Did Loki even mean it? Of course he did, there was nothing obscuring those thoughts other than the little giant's own doubts and worries, the brat genuinely adored him. The loathing thoughts sunk their claws deeper, whispering Loki deserved better and maybe they were right. Maybe Loki deserved someone that would stand beside him through the test of time.
But Heimdall was selfish, especially when those thin arms wrapped around his waist and Loki's head came to rest against his heartbeat. Yes, he was selfish, an awful man to be playing both sides in this shitty war.
But Loki loved Heimdall, Heimdall loved Loki, though he would never say it. Heimdall found he cared not for the consequences. He was happy.