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Loki probably shouldn’t have felt so relieved once he'd realised he wasn't affected, but he did. In recent years, he'd experienced too much loss of control in his life. The last thing he wanted was to be hit by a spell of compulsion.
Of course, the fact that it had hit Anthony and Barton was something of a problem.
“Everyone quiet,” Loki demanded, pushing through the clamouring Avengers to where the two bespelled heroes stood in the middle of the road.
“Hey Lokes,” Anthony said, his helmet removed and his smile a little strained. “Not sure what that Crispy Kringle over there did, but I’d like it to not be on me or Legolas anymore.”
The so-dubbed ‘Crispy Kringle’ was a rogue mage in red that was currently singed by not only his spell but also a widow bite. The man was unconscious and Romanov’s boot was still digging into his spine as she tied up his hands.
Rogers and Thor were standing nearby, clearly worried about what the spell entailed.
“The spell is a compulsion,” Loki answered brusquely. “I can gather that much from the manner of the casting. The exact nature I will need to ascertain.”
“Whatever you need,” Rogers said firmly. “Thor can round up Hulk. Do you want to take them back to the tower?”
“Ideally,” Loki agreed, "but I also do not wish to teleport them with foreign magic still clinging to them.”
“Right,” Barton said, already handing over his bow to Rogers. “So, start testing what this shit is supposed to do. Preferably before we go fly off to attack the president.”
“I doubt that mage would know to target such a figure,” Loki answered. “If anyone, he would seek to harm Thor, or possibly myself.”
“Well, I don’t want us doing that either,” Anthony said. He stepped out of his suit before commanding, “J, lock me and Barton out. Until Loki or Rogers gives the order, we’re on standdown for any commands that could prove hostile.”
“Yes, Sir. I have also taken the liberty of bringing the Quinjet to your location.”
“Good work, J.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Are you going to need him for the spell?” Romanov asked, dragging the unconscious mage over. She tossed him at Loki’s feet.
“Unlikely,” Loki replied, not-so-gently kicking his crumpled form away. “He wields magic with more brute force than finesse.”
“Then we hand him off to SHIELD,” Rogers said.
“Asgard,” Loki corrected. “SHIELD is still woeful in providing restraints. Even a half-competent mage can counter them.”
“Then we stick him in the tower until he can be bifrosted out,” Anthony said. “You’ve got to have some barrier spells we can put him behind, right Lokes?”
“Normally, yes,” Loki agreed, “but it would be unwise to concentrate on that while breaking this curse.”
“Okay,” Rogers said, frowning thoughtfully. “Loki, you take Tony and Clint back to the tower in the jet and work on breaking it. We’ll wait here until Thor can take this guy to Asgard.”
“Aye,” Thor said. “I shall return with haste.”
He spun Mjolnir and disappeared down the street in the direction the Hulk had last been. Loki turned to Romanov. “Try to keep him from regaining consciousness. I do not want him altering the compulsion remotely.”
“Happily,” Romanov replied, already placing one booted foot against his side.
Loki had little doubt if the mage dared to stir under her watch, he wouldn’t remain even partially conscious for long. He could well understand the sentiment. She was close to Barton and therefore, would take the spell personally. Similarly, he had become rather fond of Anthony, and had the spell seemed even remotely harmful in nature, the mage would have faced far worse than a disgusted kick from his boot.
It was a hostility and protectiveness that would have seemed impossible even a year ago, but was now simple truth. Where Anthony had been as wary as the others when he’d first arrived to repent, over the months, that hostility had faded in favour of Anthony’s innate and unstoppable curiosity. He had responded in kind.
What had been a tolerant way for him to pass the time, had quickly become a true regard and enjoyment. Loki had become friends with Anthony. And he would not let the man suffer foreign magic for long.
When the Quinjet landed, he ushered the two mortals inside, leaving JARVIS to handle the intricacies of flying them back to the tower.
He sat the two mortals down and stood over them, his fingers glowing green.
“How do you both feel?” Loki enquired.
“Like I’m getting too old for this,” Barton answered.
“Really glad you’re here,” Anthony replied.
Loki would have given both comments little consideration were it not for Barton’s immediate frown and Anthony’s stiff shoulders. Loki narrowed his eyes.
“I see,” he murmured. He let more seidr collect on his fingers and gently sent it out to interact with the spell upon the two heroes. “And is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
“You’re not as bad as I thought you were,” Barton said. Only to quickly scowl. “Oh, fuck off. Are you kidding-?”
“You’re really hot when you do your magic.”
Loki blinked, his pooling seidr stilling with his shock.
“Pardon?”
Anthony’s gaze was on the roof and as Loki stared at him, he saw the mortal’s cheeks turn a surprising pink.
“You’re sexy as hell. Your fucking hands are just... really, really nice. I bet you’d be good with them. And then when you hold your knives? Do you know how much I want to get you out of your-”
Barton slapped a hand over Anthony’s mouth. The man continued to talk, the words muffled but very clearly praising his fingers, his body and how versatile he must be with them.
“Right,” Barton said, speaking loudly. “So, it’s a fucking truth compulsion, isn’t it?”
Loki forcibly looked away from Anthony. He cleared his throat and confirmed, “Yes. It would appear so.”
“Why the hell would that idiot want to do that to us?”
Forcing his attention to the problem at hand and not the fact that Anthony desired him was difficult, but Loki knew that revelation could be picked apart once the curse was dispersed.
“It is possible he merely wished to ask for your weaknesses in battle. His own strategies had failed, he likely wanted to gain your own insights.”
“Fucking great,” Barton muttered.
The archer also glanced at Anthony who seemed to have stopped talking. He cautiously lowered his hand but Anthony didn’t speak. His lips were pressed together tightly and he was still staring at a spot on the roof. Barton lightly punched Anthony's upper arm; the act one of solidarity. Anthony didn’t react.
“Don’t worry. Lot worse things for him to hear than you want to fuck him. And it’s just us, not like you did it in front of a camera or something.”
Anthony still didn’t shift his gaze from the roof. Loki frowned and tilted his head, unable to stop from examining the puzzle in front of him. Because attraction was something Anthony Stark should not care about expressing. Sex was as familiar to the renowned playboy as lies were to him. So, yes, it could be awkward to tell a shield-brother you wished to bed them, but hardly something to be embarrassed about.
Unless…
Loki’s eyebrows skyrocketed as he settled on the most obvious conclusion. Because sex was immaterial. But something more? Something that, now that he was searching for it, seemed all the more plausible.
Anthony did touch him often. He also sought him out, laughed at his pranks and offered to take him throughout Midgard to ‘show him the awesomeness that is Earth’. All actions that, under a different light, spoke not of friendship but of affection and infatuation. Maybe even courtship.
“Tony?” Barton asked, clearly concerned.
Do not, Loki wanted to order, but it was too late. That small inflection to the word designated a question and Anthony would understand it. The spell would understand it and that meant-
“Fucking shit,” Anthony hissed, the words near punched out of him. “He’s so fucking smart, you know? Like, as smart as me. You fucking know that he’s not stupid. He’s not going to…” He gritted his teeth. “He’s got to know. So no, I’m not o-fucking-kay.”
Barton glanced between the two of them before standing.
“Right. I’m just going to,” he gestured to the other side of the jet, “over there.”
He left them as close to alone as possible. Loki hesitated but took a seat beside the mortal. The motion of his leather was loud in the quiet that had fallen.
“Anthony-”
“Yeah, how about we fucking don’t,” he gritted out. “How about you end the damn thing and we pretend this bullshit didn’t happen. Sound great? Yeah, good. Let’s do that.”
Loki pursed his lips but he did re-extend his hand, letting his seidr flow over first Anthony and then further down the Quinjet to Barton. The spell, now that he knew what it was, took little time to unravel and remove.
The moment the last of the foreign magic has dispersed, he withdrew his seidr. Anthony, seemingly aware of the change, tried to stand but Loki darted out a hand and grabbed his wrist. Anthony stilled.
“Hey, so, you know what would be great? Not having to hear the ‘not me, it’s you’ speech. Because, guess what? Mortals have feelings and right now, I’d like mine to not be stabbed.”
He tried to tug his hand free, but Loki didn’t budge. Anthony swore under his breath. He also finally turned, rounding on Loki and glaring.
“You really want to be a dick about this? Because, I kind of thought we were actually kind of well, okay not friends, but something decent where you didn’t-”
“Just stop talking,” Loki interrupted.
Anthony glared. “Hey, fuck you. Just because you now know I have shitty taste doesn’t mean you can-”
Grabbing the man’s undersuit, he tugged the mortal down. Anthony let out a startled noise, but Loki stopped his descent before they collided. Their faces ended up inches apart. Anthony’s eyes were wide and still panicked and hurt.
“Listen very carefully,” Loki said, keeping his voice low but clear. “I have considered you a friend. I am also rather fond of you. So, if you did wish to learn how proficient I am with my hands, I would happily provide a demonstration.”
Anthony continued to look shocked. And speechless. Enough of a rarity that Loki smiled, feeling fond of the foolish mortal. He let go of the man's undersuit to gently cup his chin.
“And,” he added, “I would not be averse if you continued to court me. You can be rather endearing.”
Anthony spluttered and rather than let the man worry any further, Loki closed the last of the distance and kissed him. Anthony made another small sound, but all too soon he gripped Loki’s shoulders and pressed back into the embrace.
Faintly, he could hear Barton make a sound like gagging in the background. He also felt Anthony let one of his shoulders go, almost certainly making a rude gesture at the archer. Loki just tugged the mortal even closer.
Later, he’d ask a few more questions, but only after the man was thoroughly assured of his welcome, and could answer with only what he wanted to say, not what he was compelled to.