Work Text:
This wasn't part of the spell. He told the human as much but he didn't seem to care. He kept telling him. Over and over. Yet the smiles grew fonder and the touches became more lingering, all while the eyes blistered just as blue.
"What spell?" the human chuckled. "You're my king, I adore you".
Loki didn't understand. The human - Barton, Clint, Hawk Eye - was only supposed to obey. Except he did so much more. He cared, he worried - for him; Loki, of Asgard; a god; superior in every way, above any kind of affection. Barton claimed to love him.
And as more time passed, Loki found it harder to resist. He never thought he'd be tempted by a mere human, but there he was, seriously contemplating of keeping Barton by his side even after the plan was carried out. The spell would only last so long, but then there was something more than just magic going on, wasn't there?
Loki felt foolish and wondered if it was a trick. Perhaps his brother had intervened somehow, created a trap within his own spell. Maybe Thor had known Loki would be drawn to Barton's affections and by so make him vulnerable to S.H.I.E.L.D. The human denied it - furiously, desperately - until he was weeping by Loki's feet, begging to be trusted. It should have disgusted him, yet Loki found himself treading finger's through Barton's spiky auburn hair, telling him to calm down. Then as Barton looked up, eyes almost brimming more with tears than magic, Loki immediately told him to rise and drew him into an embrace.
“I'm sorry,” he found himself saying. “I had to be certain.”
Barton's strong arms felt good around him.
“I know, my lord. You have enemies. But I'm not one of them. I'm yours.”
At that, Loki decided to retreat. He trusted the other minions to carry on their work. They could do without him – and Barton – for a while. He needed to rest, suddenly feeling oddly fatigue. It was as if he'd spent all this time fighting to keep from drowning, only to realize that allowing himself to be swept away was the answer.
They found a bed and curled around each other. Barton's eyes were still shimmering from the spell, but Loki could see that the flame was slowing fading. For a moment he was tempted to place the staff against the human's chest again and do the spell all over, but quickly dismissed the thought when Barton proved as loyal and dedicated as ever. He lovingly traced Loki's slender face with his gaze, mapped his cheekbones and lips with his clever, deadly fingertips. It was eventually Loki who brought them together in a kiss. Sleep thenfell over them like a wave, swallowing far too much of their time together. When Loki finally awakened, Barton was looking at him intently. The blue shimmer in his eyes was gone.
“It wasn't part of the spell,” Loki said.
Barton smiled sadly. “I know”.
“I won't force you to stay.”
“You wouldn't have to,” Barton said, his gaze falling to the strings of black hair that lay on Loki's shoulder. He gently twirled it between his fingers.
“Yet you're leaving.”
“Yes.” A pained expression spread onto his face. Loki didn't like it.
“Will you shoot your arrows at me then, when we meet in battle?”
“Probably. The aim might be a bit off though,” Barton said with a small smile.
Loki grinned. He could work with that.