Archive of Our Own

Grief cast a long and dark shadow over the world as people tried to find their footing again and reconcile with what they had lost. Despite that, the same stars continued to shine, small dots of light splattered across the dark sky, casting a mild glow over the backyard. The wind blew gently, moved the leaves and brought relief from the heat of the day.

Objectively speaking, the night was beautiful. 

Thor sat in one of the wicker chairs, his sullen face illuminated by nothing other than the light from the stars. His shoulders were slumped, his gaze downcast, and he looked nothing like the hero Steve used to lead into battles. He looked like a man on the verge of falling apart, one dark thought away from breaking down. 

Steve stepped forward and closed the door, welcoming the gentle sounds of the night. Even the sound of the crows screeching in the distance was better than the relentless silence echoing inside the compound and inside his head, following his footsteps like a shadow wherever he went.

Thor didn’t acknowledge his presence in any way as Steve slumped heavily against the second chair. Instead he looked upwards, likely searching for the one light that wasn't his bright beacon of hope anymore, but a pile of dust floating through the cosmos.

Steve looked around the patio, a wave of memories rushing in. The laughter as they drank and played together, the unbelievable (and often fake) stories they would tell each other. Steve smiled to himself bitterly. He missed those times. 

Now, after years of absence, most of the remaining Avengers returned to the compound, starving for the little bit of comfort they could find within the cold walls. Steve turned to Thor, looked at the grief etched in the lines of his face. He wondered if there were any words he could offer to provide some comfort.

It was difficult to grasp that of all the people Steve knew, he related to Thor the most. They had both lost so much after all, even if under different circumstances. They lost their parents, best friends, brothers, their entire worlds.

They both lost Loki.

The mere thought brought a new surge of pain that washed over him and made it hard to breathe. Each time Steve was starting to get used to the pain, to the despair and crippling loneliness, a new, much stronger blow would bring him down to his knees again. 

Thor eventually looked at Steve with open, vulnerable eyes. Where Loki always made sure to keep his feelings hidden from anyone who had the power to use them against him, Thor wore them plainly on his face. "I spent hundreds of years with Loki at my side." He said softly, lacking his usual vigor. "He followed my lead in battles, fought with me. We celebrated each victory together and mourned our fallen friends." Thor's voice cracked and tears filled his eyes. He wiped carelessly at his eyes, but didn't seem too concerned. "My brother was always my closest confidant."

Steve nodded but looked away, leaning forward and resting his arms against his thighs. "I know your relationship wasn't always the best." He said, not really knowing if his words would make Thor feel better or worse. "He was too stubborn to say it but I know he loved you."

Thor let out a wet chuckle. "When did it start?"

Steve understood Thor's curiosity. He'd found out about their unlikely relationship by incident, not long before Loki’s death and there was no time for explanation. Steve looked down at his feet, wishing he could stay silent and forget. 

Thor continued to stare at him, patiently waiting. 

"About two years ago." Steve said in the end, barely recognizing his own voice.

Thor nodded, his gaze wandering away.

“My brother loved you.” Thor said and placed one of his large hands on Steve’s shoulder. “He trusted you more than he trusted me.”

“Thor-”

"No." Thor shook his head. "My brother revealed to you parts of himself he never revealed to me." He made a pause and for a while there was nothing but the rustling of leaves on the trees. "If you can, and feel free to refuse, I'd like you to tell me about your time together." Thor's eyes were pleading, a desperate hope flashing across them.

Steve sucked in a shaky breath. It had been a week since Wakanda, a week since he had lost everything. He'd been doing his best to push down the pain and help others deal with theirs instead, but nights were impossible to get through. Sometimes Natasha would slip into his bed, letting him cry all he wanted and trying to soothe him with warm touch or quiet words of comfort. Other times Steve slept alone, reliving past events over and over again, blaming himself for not doing more, for not pulling Loki back and forcing him to stay.

A dark hole was where his heart used to be and Steve could do nothing about it. He was afraid that if he started talking about Loki the dark hole would swallow him whole and then there would be no one to pull him out.

Then again, Thor was going through the same thing, wasn’t he? He was equally torn apart, equally broken. If Steve's stories would bring him any comfort, then what choice did he really have?

His eyes welled up with tears but he quickly blinked them away. Instead he looked up, focusing on the stars. The first few words were difficult, but then they poured out of him like an endless river.

Steve remembered vividly the first time he saw Loki. 

The God of Mischief had been a stark, brightly-lit figure against an otherwise bleak world. A world that was confusing, sometimes completely incomprehensive. Terrifying even. Then again, Steve was barely two weeks out of ice, and was still trying to find his footing, still trying to make peace with what had happened to him and what he’d lost.

And at the time, fighting an aspiring dictator felt more normal than going to the grocery store.

Steve had seen things he couldn’t explain or fully understand. He’d witnessed with his own eyes a man vanishing into a black hole after all. Still, he didn’t believe that Loki’s tricks could really harm him or that they were more than just a clever illusion. 

Loki walked between people with confidence but also madness in his eyes, something dark dancing at the edges. To Steve he looked just like another bully that needed to be put in his place.

Loki pointed at people with a glowing stick and a horrible smile stretching across his face. His eyes crinkled and widened at his sight, as if Steve was nothing more than an exciting new toy that he could play with and test the limits of.

“The soldier. A man out of time.” Loki said to him, mocking.

Steve had been mocked before, reduced to nothing more than a weapon or a puppet. Those words coming out of Loki’s mouth did nothing to him.

Steve ignored him and did what he did best. He fought.

Loki was apparently surprised by Steve’s attack as he easily managed to kick Loki and knock him off his feet. He grunted, looking up at Steve with anger and then struck back, flipping him over. Loki’s strength surprised him too and his strong grip ripped the air out of his lungs. Loki’s blue eyes were bloodshot, filled with madness, his laughter was dark, venom leaking into it. It was the first time since the serum that Steve didn’t feel like he had an unfair physical advantage over his opponent. For the first time the fight felt fair .

“Kneel.” Loki said in a raspy voice, pressing the scepter to Steve’s head. He couldn’t name the feeling exactly but he felt its power oozing through the air and through his skin, making his entire body vibrate with some unknown energy.

His muscles hurt and Steve knew his chances were slim, but he’d never given up when he didn’t have any enhanced abilities, and he wouldn’t give up now. 

He had trouble admitting it later to his new teammates but Stark’s arrival might have just saved his life.

Steve watched Loki in the jet, trying to see if there was something more underneath the disdain and disgust but couldn’t find anything more profond. Loki held his gaze boldly but his face revealed nothing. 

The Avengers assembled for the first time and defeated both Loki and his army. Later, Thor took his brother back to Asgard with a promise that Loki would have a fair trial and face the consequences of his actions. 

Seeing New York half-destroyed broke Steve’s heart but he helped clean the streets and pushed forward, just like he always did.

Steve knew that something had changed the moment Thor appeared on Earth, accompanied by his usual flashes of lighting and rumbles of thunder.

He looked older and there was a newfound sadness in his eyes, even when he smiled at his friends or laughed with them.

They all sat in the Stark Tower one quiet evening, eating junk food and drinking as Thor told them about Loki’s death and what he had done to redeem his past actions.

“Loki saved Jane and gave up his life to save us all from the wrath of the Dark Elves.” The room fell silent as Thor told them the tale, his eyes fogged by memories. “He saved me .” His voice cracked but no tears came.

Steve listened to Thor and felt bad for him. His own memories flashed before his eyes and he gripped his bottle of beer tightly, barely keeping himself from breaking it. He could relate to losing someone so close to him, someone that by all means was blood. Even if Bucky eventually came back to him, the pain of seeing him fall to his death burned through him just the same.

Despite that Steve couldn’t agree that one act of heroism excused all of the pain Loki had caused. Earth still suffered because of him. Children were taught at school about the death toll Loki had left in his wake. As he looked around at the people who’d become his closest friends over the years, he saw the same thing mirrored on their faces.

They all understood the pain Thor was going through but neither of them were willing to forgive anything Loki had done just because he was dead.

Normal life (or whatever normal life was supposed to look like seventy years into the future) never seemed like something Steve would get. But after the fallout with Tony and making sure that Bucky was recovering under the best possible care, Steve naively hoped that he would finally get some much needed peace. 

Apparently though, peace was never in the cards for him.

Still, Steve didn’t expect to spend much time thinking about Loki ever again. 

The buildings had been restored to their previous glory or made even better, people had moved on from the attack and Loki had become nothing more than a cautionary tale about how power and hatred could corrupt mind and soul.

Loki’s sudden interest in him was less than ideal, to say the least. Steve had enough on his plate without his lingering presence. Yet, whatever he was doing back on Earth, when Loki was lounging on Steve's couch, at least he wasn't scheming and plotting their demise. As far as Steve knew.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself to sleep at night.

Because trying to guess what Loki was planning or what his intentions were, when they were probably more convoluted than Steve could imagine seemed impossible. So Steve continued to go about his days, keeping a low profile but doing what he could to still somewhat contribute to the society, all the while keeping an eye on Loki who would often pop up somewhere at the edge of his vision.

He would be sitting on a park bench and watching Steve while he was jogging, or lurking in a dark alley while Steve was grocery shopping and sometimes he would find Loki on his own couch while he was making food. Steve eventually got used to Loki’s presence (assuming that you could ever really get used to having the man who’d once tried to kill you squatting in your apartment) and when he did he started to carefully study his features.

Now he always seemed relaxed, almost at home in his own skin - something that clearly wasn’t the case a few years back in New York. Steve remembered the dark shadows under his eyes, the sharp edges to his pale face, the glint of desperation that always danced at the edges of his eyes. He remembered that it only disappeared when he had been defeated, as though it’d almost brought him a relief to not have to fight or run anymore.

Steve finished making himself a sandwich and joined Loki on the couch, doing his best to leave a considerate amount of space between their bodies.

He took a bite, thinking how bizarre it was that Loki was there, but decided to keep those thoughts to himself as he chewed slowly and only watched the bemused smile on Loki’s face. 

No matter what Loki said and how many threats he made, Steve didn’t think he was hell-bent on killing anybody or enslaving the world again. As long as it stayed this way, Steve thought it was better to keep those visits to himself. Who knew what would happen if his friends got involved? 

They didn’t need Loki to become a threat again.

“How petty.” Steve was pulled out of his thoughts by Loki who shook his head at the TV. He looked at the screen and groaned inwardly when he saw a news reporter recount once more the Sokovia Accords debacle. “Resolving your personal matters in front of the entire realm.” Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t tear them from the screen. 

Steve didn’t like the media attention either, but it was how things worked. People admired the Avengers and to see them split apart became one the most talked about scandals. Steve sagged against the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Loki looked at him, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling into a curious smirk. “Oh? What did you mean to happen then?” 

Steve sighed. He didn’t think Loki would understand, but the words spilled from his mouth anyway. “I saw freedom being ripped from people over and over again. Even under the pretense of the best intentions it always backfires.” Loki was still smirking but much to Steve’s surprise, he actually seemed interested in what he had to say, so he went on. “This time it’d be the same.”

Loki continued to watch him intently, the news reporter still speaking in the background forgotten. “And yet you are in exile.”

Steve nodded. “I am.” He couldn’t keep the bitter edge from his voice, but he didn’t think it mattered very much when he was speaking with someone who by all definitions was still his enemy.

Loki was silent for several seconds, but still watched Steve. He looked away but still felt his gaze boring through him, possibly extracting thoughts he didn’t want to share with him. Then he hummed, his shoulders relaxed and he leaned back. “And here I was under the impression it was all about a man.”

Steve didn’t need Bucky brought into this, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Loki was right, whether he was only saying it to rile Steve up or not. He turned back towards him, noting the expectant look on his face, the curiosity he was doing nothing to hide. 

“He is my best friend.” Steve said firmly, his muscles tensing. “He was there for me when no one else was.” Loki’s face remained unchanged, as though Steve’s words left no impact. “Now I’m doing the same for him.”

“Admirable.” Loki said with a nod. “Or perhaps foolish.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

Loki’s face sharpened. “What? You don’t think a monster such as me knows what it is to make sacrifices out of love?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, satisfied that he finally got a different reaction out of Loki. “Well, do you?”

The amusement slowly began to fade from Loki’s face only to disappear altogether. Something dark and unpleasant ghosted over his features, breaking through the mask he usually chose to wear. He seemed troubled, his bottom lip twitching, as though he wasn’t sure if he could confide in Steve.

In the end the doubts vanished, his face smoothed and he looked at Steve, his gaze sharp and calculating. He smiled, but the smile was laced with bitterness as he leaned forward, but not far enough to invade Steve’s personal space. “I did my best to do right by my realm, as you did, but no one considered my intentions noble or just.” His smile twitched but stayed firmly in place. “I was seen as a traitor.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows, unable to stop a small smile from ghosting over his lips. “You’re talking to a criminal.”

Loki’s smile turned more genuine and something flickered across his face, but whatever it was quickly died. “I suppose I am.” 

“What happened?” Steve asked and leaned forward, the curiosity taking the best of him. 

Loki averted his gaze. “I assumed Thor had told you.”

“Some of it.”

“The details are not worth discussing then.” Loki said before Steve could ask him to elaborate. Loki looked back at him, the smile now gone from his face completely. “A piece of advice, Captain. Sometimes putting your heart on the line for those you love can be a very dangerous game.”

Steve had to admit, talking to Loki was proving to be a very interesting pastime.

“And why is that?”

Loki lifted his gaze and Steve noticed his face tense slightly. “You may find yourself alone in the end, with all those who ever loved you dead.”

Steve had a feeling Loki was talking about his mother, so he decided not to dig deeper. 

“Thor is not dead.”

Loki laughed bitterly. “He wanted to kill me.”

“Does he even know that you’re alive?”

He saw Loki’s jaw tighten and he looked away, once more directing his eyes towards the TV, his arms coming to rest over his chest. “It is for the best that he doesn’t.”

Steve watched him for a moment, unable to believe that he got Loki to open up. He seemed raw and almost vulnerable. No matter how good at faking he was, Steve didn’t think regret and grief this intense could be fabricated. Then again, it was still Loki. Steve couldn’t afford to let his guard down. 

“You should have heard how he talked about you.” Steve said in a soft voice. His hand twitched to reach out, to rest against Loki’s arm and offer comfort but he refrained from it, knowing the risk of having his hand cut off by a dagger. “He talked about you saving both him and Jane and how grateful he was. How much he wished that you could have been still brothers.”

Loki refused to meet his gaze. “Is it not customary in your realm too not to speak ill of the dead?” Steve said nothing. “It is for the best that my brother thinks me dead and a hero rather than alive and a traitor.”

Steve wanted to argue about this, but really, how much did he know about Asgard, its internal affairs and the relationship between the two princes? Next to nothing. So he stayed quiet, mulling over everything Loki had said. 

Every other time Loki had visited, he’d worn either a suit or a full-body armor very similar to the one he’d invaded Earth in last time. This time it was neither the armor nor the elegant suit, but an outfit clearly not from Earth, made up from green and black leathers. Perhaps he didn’t feel the need to shield himself around Steve anymore.

And perhaps he allowed the mask to slip this once.

Steve continued to watch Loki, his mind unable to come up with any reason as to why Loki had chosen him of all beings in the entire universe to spend time with. 

“Did no one ever teach you that it is rude to stare?” Loki asked, his gaze never meeting Steve’s. 

“What are you doing here, Loki?” Steve asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the real answer. “With me?”

The god finally looked at him, his face weary. “Do you not enjoy my company?” 

The truth was, he did.

“Perhaps I find you more interesting than I originally thought.” Loki said when Steve didn’t answer. “Does this answer satisfy you?”

It didn’t. Not even close, but for the time being Steve decided to let it slide. “For now.”

Loki smiled, and for once there was something soft about it. He rose from the couch and nodded at Steve. “Thank you for the pleasant evening, Captain. I will be on my way now.” 

And before Steve could stop him or say anything a green flame flashed over Loki and he was gone in less than a second.

Steve let his hand fall on the spot where Loki had just been sitting and wondered, if only for a second, if there was still something good in him. And whether he could find it. 

It hadn’t been a week since Loki’s last visit when he showed up again. This time Steve had just returned from his morning jog through the city only to find Loki once again in his apartment, not watching TV but flipping through his notebook instead.

And for the first time it was not fear that washed over Steve when he saw Loki but a wave of embarrassment. His first instinct was to run up to Loki and rip the sketchbook from his hands, but he stopped himself and went to the bathroom for a towel instead.

“You have excellent taste in your models, Captain.” Loki said and even without seeing his face Steve could hear the smirk in his voice.

Steve felt his cheeks flush and he grunted but returned to the living room where Loki sat in the armchair with the notebook in his lap and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

His eyes lifted and sparked with mischief as they landed on Steve. “I may have some pointers for you, but overall you do have some skill.” As he flipped through the pages and saw page after page of his own face, Steve told himself that the heat he felt on his face was from running and not from sheer embarrassment. “Keep improving yourself and I may just ask you for a portrait to hang in the palace.”

Now that was new. “The palace? You mean Asgard?”

The smile faded from Loki’s face. “Irrelevant.”

Steve decided to let it slide for the moment, but kept the clue in mind. He wiped the sweat off his face with the towel and sat heavily on the sofa, keeping his eye on Loki. “So now you know what I do when you’re not here.” Loki arched an eyebrow. “What about you?”

“Nothing nearly as intriguing as what your imagination conjures up. I assure you, Captain.”

Steve groaned. “Don’t call me that.” 

“What would you want me to call you then?”

“Steve’s fine.” He said with a shrug.

Loki watched him for a moment with curious eyes. Then he closed the sketchbook and reached it out for Steve. Hesitantly, he took it.

He stretched himself against the armchair in an elegant, if not slightly artificial pose. Steve blinked at him. “Go ahead. I do not intend to sit like this all day.”

Surprised, Steve stared at him in silence for a moment longer. It was only when Loki glared at him that he grabbed a pencil, opened the sketchbook on an empty page and started drawing Loki.

Loki said it was decent, but he liked it enough to take it with him when he disappeared into thin air without a word of explanation.

Sometimes Steve felt guilty that Loki’s sudden appearances remained his secret. Then again, he supposed that as long as he kept visiting Steve, he wouldn’t taunt anyone else. At least that was what Steve hoped for, maybe naively.

“You seem happier.” 

Natasha decided to crash on his couch for a couple of weeks. Apparently even super spies needed a break every once in a while. And all the while she was there, Loki didn’t appear.

Steve was glad for the company. Natasha was usually sneaky and elusive, but her company never failed to make him feel better. She was one of the only people that could dig him out of a pit of sadness he could sometimes fall into.

“Was I unhappy before?” Steve asked, his eyebrows raised, as he watched Natasha in the kitchen where she was making dinner for them. Some Russian dish that Steve didn’t dare try to pronounce the name of.

“Yes.” The answer came quickly as Natasha tried her concoction and hummed in pleasure. “Have you met someone, Steve?” Her eyebrows quivered, and a knowing smile flashed across her features. 

Steve groaned, choosing to focus on the newspaper he was trying to read. Well, he was trying to guess the meaning of the articles that had pictures, since they were all in Czech. He tried to hide behind the pages from Natasha’s stare. She was too intelligent for her own good and if Steve wasn’t careful enough, she would rip out of him every little secret he wanted to stay hidden.

He had always felt awkward flirting or trying to build relationships. He didn’t know what to talk about with the people he met when he could hardly relate to anything any normal person had experienced. That left other soldiers or agents that shared some of his experiences, to some extent.

His short-lived fling with Sharon still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“No.” Steve said, because it was the truth in every way that mattered. He occasionally talked to Loki, but it wasn’t like they had just met and Natasha was asking about something else anyway. 

“Well, you should.” Natasha finished the dish and poured something that looked like a thick soup into two bowls. “You will drive yourself crazy being cooped up in here all the time.”

“Then stay with me.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I still have some business to take care of.” She nodded at the bowls and Steve took a seat next to her and started eating.

He didn’t ask what she meant. She wouldn’t answer anyway.

The title of Captain America might have been more or less taken from him, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t stop bullies when he saw them just because he didn’t have his shield with him.

It was late at night when he decided to go jogging just because it cleared his head and he didn’t have anything better to do with himself anyway. He was running through a park when he saw two men trying to steal from a woman. Steve stopped abruptly and slowly approached them. 

“Hey, cut it out.” He warned, straightening himself and hoping that his mere posture would scare them away. It’d worked in the past.

One of the men looked at him while the other held the woman’s wrist as she struggled to free herself from the hold, unsuccessfully. A flash of recognition flickered across the man’s eyes but Steve wasn’t worried. It wasn’t the kind of man that people would take seriously.

One of the men said something in a language Steve didn’t recognize, but instead of letting go he took out a knife and pressed it against the woman’s neck. She whimpered and tried to take a step back, but the blade pressed even harder against her skin. 

They seemed drunk and Steve knew that no matter what he said, it probably wouldn’t reason with them. He stopped and raised his arms in a defensive manner. “Hey, easy.” He said in a low and soft voice, assessing the enemies and looking for a weak spot, one that he could exploit without endangering the woman’s life. 

“Well, hello gentlemen. What a pleasant evening.”

For the first time it was relief that washed over Steve when he heard Loki’s voice. He looked over his shoulder and saw Loki, in the same armor he’d worn to fight him in Germany, with the same helmet that kept his dark hair hidden. Steve stiffened when he saw in his right hand a spear that suspiciously looked like the exact copy of the scepter.

But it couldn’t be. Steve remembered what had happened to it all too well. 

Loki was grinning and when Steve glanced back at the men, he saw terror pained across their faces, replacing the drunken confidence. Before Steve had a chance to do anything, another Loki appeared behind the men. He grabbed one of them by the throat and threw him into the air with ease, as though he was no more than a rag doll. 

The other one finally let go of the woman and instead waved the knife blindly at Loki, trying to attack him. The god only smiled faintly, grabbed his arm and twisted it until he let go of the knife and screamed in pain.

Steve’s eyes went wide when he saw a dagger materialize in Loki’s hand. 

“Loki, no!” He came closer, no more afraid of Loki. He made sure that the woman had made her escape before focusing all of his attention on the alien who seemed to be having way too much time with bringing the man pain. “Leave him alone. He’s learned his lesson.” He looked the man dead in the eye. “Right?”

He nodded frantically.

“Do you not kill the men that raise their hands to women?” Loki asked, still holding the man’s arm with the dagger dangerously close to his skin. 

“No.” Steve said softly, taking another tentative step towards Loki. He knew the men deserved to face justice for what they had done, but Loki’s involvement would only bring more harm than good. “If it was the case, I would have killed you by now.” Steve said dryly, the number of people dead because of Loki flashing in front of his eyes for a moment. 

The smile vanished off Loki’s face and he let go of the man’s arm. “So be it.” The man ran away, not once looking over his shoulder. The other one was nowhere to be found either. The moment they were alone Loki’s armor, scepter as well as the one illusion of him all disappeared, leaving him in the Asgardian leathers he usually wore. 

Steve noted that Loki seemed younger without the armor and somewhat more relaxed, like he was no longer carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. While Loki looked after the man, Steve noticed that the leather on his arm was torn, and a big red wound ran almost all the way across his forearm.

Without thinking, Steve grabbed his arm. “You’re bleeding.”

Loki took a step back, easily freeing himself from Steve’s hold. He inspected his arm, as though only now noticing that he was hurt. “It will heal.”

“Let’s go. I’ll clean it for you.” Steve said. He didn’t know exactly how Loki’s biology worked or how quickly he healed, but it couldn’t hurt to clean and bandage the wound.

Loki smiled ruefully. “Your concern is truly endearing but I am more than capable of tending to my own wounds.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, watching the blood slowly drip down Loki’s arm and clothes. “Come on. You could swallow your pride every once in a while.”

God, if Bucky saw him now he’d laugh his ass off.

“If that makes you feel better.” Loki shrugged and followed, no longer protesting.

When they got back to Steve’s apartment, Loki took off the top half of his suit, exposing a deathly pale skin. Steve gathered the supplies and joined him, unable to suppress a smile when Loki winced at the touch of the antiseptic against his wound.

“So gods do bleed after all, huh?” Steve asked, trying not to let his amusement be too apparent.

“I know you don’t believe that I’m a god.” Loki said instead of answering, looking away from Steve as he cleaned the blood that had managed to already dry up. “But I assure you, there is no such thing as an old bearded man residing in the clouds and watching over your pathetic mortal lives.”

“Do you believe you are a god?”

Only silence answered him.

Steve cleaned Loki’s wound and patched it up as best as he could, knowing that it would probably heal as quickly, if not quicker, as his own wounds did. While he did that, he couldn’t help but notice how cold Loki’s skin was. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked him, getting a quirk of an eyebrow in response. “You’re awfully cold.”

There was a slight twitch on Loki’s face as he pressed his lips in a line and looked away once more. “It is perfectly normal for me.” He said. “I am sure Thor told you about my heritage.”

That piqued Steve’s interest. He finished bandaging Loki’s arm and watched as the man put on his clothes again. “He told us that you were adopted. I don’t know what it means for you.”

Loki let out a low and bitter chuckle, his eyes finding Steve. “He didn’t mention what a monster I truly am?” He shook his head, leaning back against the cushions, his gaze growing distant. “How considerate of him.”

“Maybe he didn’t think it was his secret to tell.” Steve pushed aside the cleaning supplies and sat next to Loki, intrigued by his words. “What do you mean you are a monster?”

Loki laughed again, the sound just as horrible and hollow as the one before. “Ah, do not tell me your kind doesn’t already see me as a monster who stomped upon their world and left a trail of dead bodies in his wake.”

The words cut through Steve like a knife. More often than not he tried not to think about Loki’s past actions. It made it easier to see Loki like an actual person, and not some one-dimensional villain out of a comic book. “They do think so.” Steve said. “Because that’s exactly what you did.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice in the matter.” Loki whispered and Steve wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it or not. “And what do you think?” Loki looked into his eyes boldly, unrelenting, as though challenging Steve into a fight. “Why would you tend to your enemy’s wounds?”

Steve opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. Questioning his own actions didn’t come easy. He didn’t know anymore why he did what he did. Emotions warred inside of him as well as different images of Loki. “You haven’t done anything questionable since you started showing up here.” He said in the end, holding Loki’s gaze. “You helped me today.”

“You would have been fine by yourself.”

“But you helped me anyway.”

Loki was silent for a moment, his gaze wandering away, as though he was lost in his thoughts. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“And neither did you.”

Natasha broke the lock with steady hands of an experienced thief, and sneaked inside. Steve followed, impressed by her skills, if not a little disturbed.

The interior of the building was dark and cold, their footsteps echoing in the dead silence, with no sign of another living soul anywhere near. As agreed earlier, they split up to search the old Hydra base faster. Natasha took the stairs and went to check the lower parts while Steve stayed on the ground level to work his way up.

He went through room after room, jaw set tight and hands clenched. Steve could hardly keep his composure when he saw medical equipment covered in layers of dust. He could only imagine all the horrible things they had been used for. He didn’t want to imagine anything but the pictures still appeared before his eyes, stuck to the forefront of his mind. Steve knew that what doctor Erskine had done to him was little more than a medical experiment but as questionable as that had been, at least getting the serum was his own conscious decision.

Steve continued his search, wondering what he would find. Natasha told him rumors about other soldiers, just like Bucky, being trapped somewhere in the area, frozen and brainwashed. Steve really hoped that she was wrong. He searched the ground floor and when he found nothing, Steve moved on to the next one. 

Steve turned on his comms. “Nat? Did you find anything?” He asked and forced open a door that led him to another room filled with papers.

“Still looking.” She told him after less than a second. Her breathing came through the comms calm and even. Steve thought the conversation would end there, but she went on. “So…have you been up to anything fun recently?”

Steve shuddered when he passed another set of medical equipment. He quickly closed the door to the room and marched on, wishing that he wasn’t walking in complete darkness. “I watch TV.” He knew it wasn’t what Natasha was asking about but he also knew that it would annoy her. He smiled to himself. 

“You’re not ninety for real, you know that.” A short pause. “Right?” There was a hint of humor in her voice. Not a lot but enough to make Steve’s own smile widen. “You could go out. Meet people. Date people.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve rolled his eyes. He could imagine Natasha’s smirk all too easily. “I don’t think it would go over well with the whole hiding from the law thing.”

“You don’t have to tell them who you are on the first date.” She chuckled while Steve wandered through another couple of rooms. “You could wait until you know it’s worth it.”

“I dated Sharon.” Steve said stubbornly, knowing exactly what kind of reaction he would get from Natasha. 

The sound that Natasha made when he mentioned Sharon’s name sounded very much like gagging. “Don’t get me started on this again .” Her tone was a bit scolding but still playful enough. “You can’t date Peggy’s niece.” She paused for a moment and he heard her open a door. “And whatever it was, I wouldn’t even call it dating. You kissed once. Have you ever talked to her since then?”

Sharon was a smart, beautiful woman. Her stubbornness reminded him of Peggy and her best qualities. Other than that though Steve quickly realized that there wasn’t much between them. “Not really.”

“Exactly.”

Steve bit his lip, straining his mind to find something snarky to bite back at her. It wasn’t easy to beat Natasha at her own game. It was actually damn near impossible. He still tried though. But before he could force his mind to come up with anything, he heard a sudden noise coming from Natasha’s side. “Nat? What is it? Are you okay?”

He heard a scream that definitely didn’t belong to Natasha. “Shit.” She muttered between heavy breathing and more noise. “It’s a trap. Get out of there, Steve!”

He tensed and stopped moving, listening instead, trying to catch even the subtlest of sounds. “I’m not leaving you.” He said firmly and turned back around towards the staircase.

But the moment Steve was back on the ground floor, about a dozen well-armed men surrounded him, guns aimed at his head. Steve came to an abrupt stop and silently cursed himself for not being better prepared. Better yet, he shouldn’t have let Natasha come with him in the first place. He should have come alone.

The Hydra agents, because Steve had no doubt that that’s what they were, continued to aim at him, their hands steady. He wondered what their orders were, if they were supposed to kill him on the spot or capture him. He didn’t like either. Steve tried to assess the situation. There were thirteen of them and each carried a gun, likely had more hidden away. 

Steve really wished he still had his shield and not just the gun he kept in the holster by his belt and a small combat knife that Natasha talked him into hiding in one of his boots.

He wasn’t stupid. His odds were far from good. Steve took a deep breath and prepared for the worst, his hand already sneaking towards the gun. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. “I wouldn’t do that.” One of the men said, probably their leader. His voice was cool and calculated, fearless. “Serum or no serum, you can’t take us all on your own.”

Steve clenched his jaw. The man was right, Steve knew he was. His gaze traced over all of them and the exit they blocked. He still had to try.

The first bullet fired when Steve made a tentative move towards the staircase. He would have been surprised if something else happened so Steve moved out of the way with ease, knocked over a table and took cover behind it. A rain of bullets was the expected result of his actions. Instead, Steve frowned when he heard choking sounds, yelps and weak cries. Confused and disturbed, Steve lifted his head above the edge of the table, giving in to his morbid curiosity. 

All men but one were on the floor, their bodies limp, heads positioned at odd angles, chests unmoving. The only one left was not as much standing as he was being held by the neck by the mad god hovering over him. Steve’s eyes widened and he froze, staying right where he was. He watched the pure rage, fury, in Loki’s eyes, the armor over his body, the cape fluttering behind him, and the golden helmet on his head, its horns bent slightly. Loki looked every part the god from horrid myths he’d always thought himself to be.

Loki broke the man’s neck and let his body fall limply on the floor, among the rest. When he was done, Loki turned to Steve. The fury in his eyes didn’t lessen. If anything, it intensified. 

Steve stayed down for several long seconds. Thinking. Assessing. Trying to figure out if he was looking at another enemy or an unlikely ally. Loki had no reason to rescue him. Steve tried to think of any possible ulterior motives and when he thought he figured it out, his blood ran cold.

The pieces fell together and the truth that Steve kept trying to run from became glaringly obvious. Loki’s visits and questions weren’t because of a sudden change of heart or simple boredom. Steve didn’t stop to think. Anger flared up inside of him, burning through his body like a wildfire. He kicked the table out of the way and charged at Loki. He blinked in surprise, his features smoothed slightly, and he didn’t do anything as Steve pulled his gun out and pressed it against his head, pushing him harshly against the nearest wall. 

“You’re not taking anything from here.” Steve said firmly, his finger hovering over the trigger, blood pulsing from anger. “I won’t let you.” He thought about the soldiers that could still be there and about the medical equipment, about all the ways Hydra was still trying to replicate the serum, to perfect it.

Loki raised his eyebrows but didn’t seem overly threatened by his gun. Then again, Steve would be surprised if he was. “Is this display what passes here as gratitude?” His eyes softened, shifting towards the gun, like he was hurt. Steve however couldn’t bring himself to care about his feelings, not in his current state.

“Your game is over, Loki.” Steve’s hands trembled as he stared into Loki’s eyes, the eyes of his enemy. 

Loki snorted and it took him less than a second to flip their positions. He wrapped his arm around Steve’s back and turned him around in one quick move, trapping him against the wall. Loki twisted Steve’s arm, his grip so strong and painful that Steve had no choice but to drop the gun. He stared at Loki wide-eyed, still furious, only then remembering that despite his lean physique, he was probably just as strong as his brother.

“You fool.” Loki sneered at him but the rage was gone, replaced entirely by hurt. “How petty do you think I am? Why would I want any of your primitive weapons and torture devices when I have the army of Asgard’s elite warriors at my disposal?”

Steve stared back at Loki for several seconds, his own anger slowly evaporating too. He tried to tell himself to stay on guard but the truth was that Loki had no reason to lie to him, at least there, with nothing stopping him from breaking Steve’s neck. “What are you doing here then?”

Loki’s jaw visibly tightened and he looked away, like he wasn’t sure himself. “Saving your life, it seems.” His voice was surprisingly soft when he released Steve from his grasp and stepped away.

Steve knew he had a lot to think about regarding this revelation but in that moment there was just one thing that really mattered to him. “You want to help? Go help Natasha downstairs.”

Loki winced. “The spy?”

“Fine. I’ll just do it myself.” Steve walked right past him, aiming for the stairs. A passing thought came through his mind that he should maybe show some gratitude to Loki for saving his life. Later, he told himself. He would thank him properly later, when he knew that Natasha was okay.

When he got downstairs he froze again. Loki was already there, dealing with the agents Natasha hadn’t managed to deal with herself.

The woman stood by the wall, eyes wide and wild, as she watched Loki. Steve rushed over to her, a bullet hole in her shoulder catching his attention. The blood dripped down her clothes slowly and the wound was by no means fatal but Steve still pressed his hand against it, trying to stop the bleeding. She turned her head slowly to look up at him. “What is this, Steve?” She asked. “Because it looks an awful lot like Loki just saved our asses.”

Steve nodded slowly, eyes wandering to Loki. Only then he realized that Loki didn’t come out of the battle unharmed either. His armor was covered in bullet holes. He didn’t seem any weaker because of it though. “It looks like it.” Steve agreed, wrapping his arm around Natasha’s waist. He pulled her upstairs, unsure if Loki would follow them. And unsure if he wanted Loki to follow.

“What’s going on, Steve?” Natasha narrowed her eyes at him but allowed Steve to basically carry her up the stairs. “What is he doing here?” She paused. “Wasn’t he dead?”

Steve sighed and looked over his shoulder. Loki was following them. “I don’t know. He came out of nowhere.” He met Natasha’s searching gaze. “But he saved our lives.”

Natasha pondered on that in silence as they walked out of the building. The night air was crisp and cold, and the moon was perfectly visible, its pale light illuminating their faces and the forest expanding before them. It was now clear to them both that it must have been a trap and the information they’d heard was fabricated. 

They sat on the ground and only breathed for a while, calming down their racing hearts.

Loki joined them a moment later and leaned against the side of the building, casually. He inspected his nails, like he hadn’t just killed over twenty people in cold blood. 

Natasha looked at Loki, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion. She batted Steve’s hand away when he tried to put pressure on her shoulder again. “What do you think you’ll get from this?” She pulled herself up and walked over to him, not even a hint of fear on her face.

Loki looked down on her, like she was nothing but an unimportant nuisance. “Humans are extremely ungrateful.” He inspected his body, frowning at the holes in his clothes. “Next time I’ll make sure to leave you for dead.” He said tonelessly. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait!” Steve called before Loki had a chance to disappear. Both him and Natasha raised their eyebrows, wearing matching expressions on their faces. It was creepy. Steve stumbled to his feet and rested his hands on his hips. “Thank you, Loki. Really.” Loki watched him warily. Then nodded in acknowledgment. “Actually,” He began carefully, feeling bold. A spark of curiosity flashed across Loki’s eyes. “Could you…take us back home? I don’t feel like getting on a plane right now.”

Natasha frowned, looking at Steve like he just lost his mind while Loki laughed. “This is as far as my help goes.” He said. “You’ll have to find a means of transport yourselves.” Despite the rejection, there was an easy smile on his lips. “I trust you will manage.” And with that, he disappeared in a flash of green light.

Natasha looked at Steve, a crest appearing between her eyebrows. “Steve-”

He gave her a weak, unconvincing smile, and shrugged. “I had to try.”

She walked to him, hands still crossed over her chest. “This isn’t the first time.” It wasn’t a question, but a simple statement of an obvious fact.

Steve felt his smile quiver. There was no point in denying the truth. She’d know either way. “No.”

Natasha shook her head, a look of betrayal crossing her face. “You should have told someone. You should have told me .”

“I know.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her piercing gaze. “But I figured that if I was with him, then he wouldn’t do anything.”

Natasha kept looking at him, her gaze steady and intense, until Steve felt like he had no choice but to look back at her. “You’re an idiot, Steve.” She said in a clipped, cold tone. Steve knew there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” This time it was her gaze escaping his. “Just be careful.”

They walked through the forest until they found the bike Steve rented to get them there in the first place. In the end, they went back to town and rented a room at a local hotel, deciding to catch a flight home the following morning. Steve offered to clean Natasha’s wound but she refused and quickly disappeared inside her room. He went to his own room and took a long, hot shower.

Steve wasn’t surprised to find Loki sitting on his bed when he came out of the bathroom. He was still wearing the armor but the helmet was gone, his dark hair falling freely down his shoulders. Steve ran a towel through his hair and walked across the room, standing in front of Loki in nothing but a shirt and a pair of boxers.

“You’re both incompetent idiots.” Loki said, his blue eyes fixed on Steve. “You constantly throw yourselves in harm’s way, like your lives aren’t already short enough.”

“What are you doing here? With me.” He asked, ignoring what Loki just said. “I want the truth. Why would you save my life?”

Steve almost jumped when he saw a hurricane of different emotions wreck through Loki’s face. He’d never seen his face so bare, unguarded, young , like he wasn’t hiding anything. His features softened, worry lines faded. It lasted less than a second though, his face freezing back into the mask Steve had grown used to. He stood from the bed, his gaze sharp and defiant. Loki stepped closer, invading Steve’s personal space for the first time. Steve took a step back in response, pressing himself into the wall, but stayed put. His gaze darted to his bedside table where his gun rested but it was only instinct because it wasn’t bloodshed that he was afraid of when Loki stared at him like that.

“I found you because I was bored. Because I thought it would be entertaining to mess with one of my brother’s favorite toys.” He said and Steve knew that his words were honest. He spoke in a low voice and a smile came onto his face.

Steve had trouble focusing with Loki so close, with his breath ghosting over his face. His gaze dropped to his lips. “And now?” He asked weakly. “Is this still just a game for you?”

Loki reached out his hand and rested it gently against Steve’s cheek. He stopped breathing, his heart started beating like crazy. His fingers were cold as they rubbed against his skin, like he was an explorer, discovering a new land. 

Then he leaned forward and kissed Steve.

Steve froze. He had fought way more battles in his life than any sane person even should. He had fought with guns, his shield and his fists. He’d fought men, he’d killed them. But no one had ever disarmed him like Loki did, not with weapons or threats, but with something much, much worse. Steve reached his hand towards the gun even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything to Loki.

And there were plenty of other opportunities for him to tell Loki that he didn’t want it. He could push him away. Hell, he should punch him in the face.

Steve’s hand stopped mid-air and fell to his side, limp and defenseless like the rest of his body. He didn’t stop Loki. He allowed Loki to kiss him. There was something rough about it, like Steve could taste the fight and the dust on his lips. Steve allowed Loki to part his lips with his tongue, allowing him to explore the inside of his mouth. He closed his eyes. Then he kissed back, his hand coming to rest on his shoulder, his fingers digging into the leather, tangling with Loki’s long hair.

Steve tried to bring himself to think reasonably, to remember that he was kissing Loki . Before those thoughts could become coherent however, Loki’s mouth moved down to press against his neck and the last logical thought left his mind. Steve gasped and gripped Loki tightly.

Loki laughed and Steve’s body vibrated with him. He moved away, his face flushed, pupils wide and a pleasant surprise dancing across his eyes.

Steve was nowhere near ready to sort out his thoughts and make sense of those sudden, unwanted feelings. What he did know was that he didn’t want Loki to leave just yet. But before he could ask him to stay, a light shimmered over Loki and he was gone, his smile being the last thing Steve caught.

Steve sank against the wall and looked down at his crumpled shirt, wondering what the hell he’d just got himself into.

There were nights when Steve still dreamed about Peggy. About the deep brown of her eyes, how beautiful she looked in a certain light, about how soft her lips were against his. But most importantly it was her faith in him that had Steve’s thoughts drifting back to the days of the war. He remembered that it was the skinny kid from Brooklynn she’d chosen to put her trust into when hardly anyone else did. 

Sometimes Steve thought about the last time he’d seen her. Old, sick and bed-ridden, but always smiling and always offering words of wisdom to Steve who often felt like a child lost in the mist without a real sense of direction. Though in his mind she always remained the girl he’d promised a dance.

At the time Steve thought he’d loved her but he couldn’t tell anymore whether it was Peggy that he loved or the mere idea of their life together - one with a white picket fence, a dog and a couple of kids.

Sharon was a different story, but then pretty much the same. She was beautiful, brave and she reminded Steve of Peggy. There had not been much else to it.

“You’re thinking very loud. It’s distracting.” Natasha’s voice was soft but she still managed to pull him out of his thoughts. She was curled on the sofa with a book in her lap and peeking from behind it at Steve. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve tore his eyes away from the movie playing on TV - he wasn’t even watching it - and looked at her, suspecting that she’d already read all from his face and was only asking out of courtesy. 

He shrugged, not knowing what to say. “Loki.” In the end he settled on the truth, even if he was unwilling to admit in just how many ways the trickster managed to sneak his way into Steve’s mind. 

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement, her eyebrows drawn together. Steve couldn’t tell whether his face revealed what had happened but he hoped for his own sake that it didn’t. “Do you know what he’s up to those days?”

Steve shook his head. “He comes and goes when he likes. He never tells me what he does when he’s not here.”

“What does he want from you?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? The one Steve had been trying to answer ever since one of his first enemies showed up again after years of absence. “It doesn’t seem like he wants much of anything from me.” That was a lie and one that Natasha saw through immediately, if the knowing look was any indication.

She put her book away and sat up straight, holding Steve’s gaze even when he wanted to look away. “Steve.” She said firmly, a warning in her eyes. “Be honest with me.”

Steve raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “The night he saved us...he kissed me.” The words felt weird on his tongue, as though they didn’t belong there, as though he was telling the story of someone else and not his own. 

Natasha’s face twitched and she moved closer, her hands coming up to grab Steve’s face. She turned it both ways harshly and carefully inspected his eyes. “You know the scepter doesn’t exist anymore, right?” Steve said when she left him alone.

“Just making sure.” She said, but continued to stare at him intently. “And how did you react?”

No matter how much Steve wanted to lie, there was no point to it. He’d said enough already for her to know that something was going on. He might as well say the entire truth. “I kissed him back.”

Natasha was silent for a longer while, mulling over his words. She was a skilled liar and even more skilled actress and so her face didn’t reveal much of what she thought. Eventually a frown appeared on her face and Steve had a feeling she was fighting the urge to punch him. “Steve, do you remember who Loki is? Do you remember what he did,” her voice wavered and Steve saw her fists clench. “all the people he killed?”

The images of New York appeared in his mind, unbidden. The monsters falling from the hole in the sky, the desperate fight to close the portal, all the misery Steve had been witness to but helpless to do anything about while a literal god stomped upon everything he held dear to his heart. “I will never forget this.” Steve said grimly, all the images etched in his memory better than if he put them on paper. 

“I’ve seen this, Steve.” She rested her hand on his shoulder but the touch didn’t bring Steve much relief. “Falling for your enemy. It happens to the best of us.”

“No one said anything about falling in love.”

Natasha ignored him and leaned closer, true concern flashing over her face. “It never ends well. A broken heart if you’re lucky and a broken neck if you’re not.”

Steve tried to look away again, but her gaze kept following him, unwilling to relent. “He doesn’t seem like that anymore though.” Steve said, mad at himself that he felt the need to defend Loki. “Do you remember what Thor said about him? About what he did for Jane?”

Her stern expression didn’t change. “Don’t be stupid, Steve. Your good heart can’t save everyone.”

Steve finally managed to tear his gaze away and leaned back, the room suddenly too small for them both. How could he make Natasha understand what he felt for Loki if he didn’t understand it himself? The kiss had awoken something within him, someone that had been dormant for far too long, but he wasn’t sure he had a name for it yet. 

“Say you two get together.” Steve looked back at Natasha and noted the subtle change in her demeanor. Her eyes softened and she reached out her hand, gently stroking his hair. Natasha wasn’t often keen on displays of affection so it had to mean that she was truly worried about Steve. He hated that he made her feel this way. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if he gets angry and takes revenge on the entire planet?”

“I really don’t think he’s after that anymore.”

“You’re just lonely.” Natasha continued to pet his hair. “I shouldn’t have left you here alone for so long.”

Steve knew she meant well, but he moved away from her touch and left her alone on the couch, aiming for the fridge to give his hands something to do. “I’m not stupid, Nat. I’m not going to jump into bed with him next time he shows up.”

She raised her eyebrows, her haze following after him. “Are you sure?”

He wasn’t and that was the worst. Steve made two sandwiches, one for himself and the other for Natasha, then rejoined her on the couch. “You worry about me too much. I can make choices on my own.”

She didn’t seem convinced but accepted the sandwich all the same and began eating. “You know you can’t shut me up with food.”

Steve chanced a smile. “I can try.”

She took a bite, but then looked at Steve again. “Just whatever you do, be careful, okay?”

He nodded. That much he could promise her. “Always.”

That night Steve didn’t think about Peggy. He thought about Loki. He thought about his lips and his hands, the smirk and the hair, his pale face. He tried to remember that no matter how reformed and harmless he seemed, Loki was still a villian and someone he could never let himself trust. 

Sleep wouldn’t come and Steve’s thoughts become a mess he couldn’t untangle himself from. Natasha was right. Of course she was and he was stupid for defending Loki as fiercely as he had. When he closed his eyes it was again the image of Loki that invaded his mind. This time it was Loki hidden in shadows, slaughtering men that wanted to kill Steve. In the midst of his confusion, Steve paid it no mind, but now with everything that had happened, he remembered how smooth he was in battle, how precise his movements, and how his body had been made for this. 

Steve rubbed his face, unable to face what truly nagged at him, what truly made him question himself. He could admire Loki’s body all he wanted and it was alright. Nothing else needed to come of it. It was something else that made him worried for his own sanity.

The fact that thinking about Loki made him all warm, made him remember his old self, the one back from before the ice. That was a dangerous notion that he didn’t really think he wanted to confront, at least not yet.

“Trouble sleeping?” Steve jerked awake from the slumber that had started to wash over him and flicked on the nightstand. He sat up more straight and saw the tall figure half-hidden in the dark, the light casting shadows over his angular face.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked dumbly, unable to find anything else to say.

Loki bared his teeth in a grin and walked along the bed, his fingers tracing over the sheets as he sat down. “Last time you had me under the impression that you did not mind my presence so much anymore.” The smirk wouldn’t come off his face and Steve noticed that Loki looked like a cat luring in its next victim. “Have you changed your mind since then?”

Steve only stared at Loki - at the soft light that danced across his eyes, all the little lines that sometimes revealed emotions that he tried his best to conceal. “What we did…” Steve trailed off, unwilling to consider how fast his heart was beating. He tried to remember all the things Natasha had said to him, but those seemed hidden behind a thick fog that appeared in his brain. 

Loki cocked his head to the side and watched Steve stammer in amusement. “Is my effect on you that strong? I wasn’t aware.”

Steve forced himself to focus on what was important and glared at Loki, making sure that the trickster knew he was being serious. It didn’t help matters that he was in his pajamas, wrapped in blankets while Loki sat hovering over him. “What are your plans, Loki? You want to seduce me to do what? Mess with the Avengers?”

Loki looked bored. “I thought those were disbanded.”

“What do you want to do then?” Steve asked. It was way too late for a conversation like that. “Give me over to the authorities?”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “If that was my intention I would have done it a long time ago.”

“What is your intention then?”

Loki let out a sign, then stretched his neck. “I thought I made myself clear the other night.”

Steve folded his arms over his chest. “What? I am supposed to believe that you want to...date me?”

The god laughed and shook his head. “Do not flatter yourself, Steve. I mean what I said. I am merely bored and found you entertaining.” He leaned in closer, his breath tickling the skin of Steve’s face. Lips parted, eyes narrowed, he made Steve more confused than he wanted to admit.

Because suddenly Steve wanted to reach out and touch the leather covering his skin. And maybe rip that leather away. He stopped himself though and only watched Loki’s expression. Despite the smiles he so often faked and masks he put on to make others see him as something he wasn’t, Steve thought he saw hope in his eyes - small and fleeting, hidden under layers of something else, something darker and unpleasant. 

Steve didn’t want to think. He’d done enough of that in the past and it never got him anywhere decent. Maybe it was time to do something that perhaps wasn’t the right thing to do, but certainly felt like something he wanted to try. Needed to know how it tasted. And if it burned him? Then at least he would learn his lesson.

He followed his instincts and reached out his hand until it came to rest against Loki’s neck. The skin there was pleasantly cool in touch. “If you try anything, I will kill you.” Steve warned in a firm voice, one he used when he needed to commandeer his people in battle. 

It didn’t seem to work on Loki. He barked out a laugh. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”

Steve didn’t waste more time and pulled Loki closer until their mouths clashed. He knew he was stupid. He knew he would come to regret every second of this, but in the moment it seemed like the crazy god was exactly what he needed.

Natasha glared at Loki from her spot on the chair and he glared right back. She idly played with a small knife, as though not even being aware of it. Her eyes were trained on Loki who in return conjured up a green flame that danced between his fingers and across his otherwise blue eyes.

Steve rubbed his hand over his face and poured green tea into three mugs. He placed one in front of Natasha, the other in front of Loki and grabbed the last for himself. Then he leaned against the counter and brought the mug up to his lips, wishing he could escape the awkwardness.

“Are we just gonna sit like this the whole day?” He asked in the end and took another sip of the burning-hot tea.

Loki glared at him while Natasha stayed vigilant, her eyes always trained on Loki and only her hands tentatively wrapping around her mug.

“That depends if you manage to explain why the hell he is sitting there.” Steve opened his mouth but Natasha held up her hand, effectively silencing him. “And you better be convincing.”

Loki’s face relaxed and he leaned back in his chair, grabbed the mug and took a careful sip. “What? Is your image of the good Captain tainted?” He bared his teeth in a grin that reminded Steve of a particularly annoying cat. “Oh, I am terribly sorry for that.” 

Natasha winced but her posture relaxed too. She put away the knife and finally looked at Steve. “Do you expect me now to trust him? You want me to forget what he did to Clint?” The hurt was visible in her eyes, the silent threat that if Loki ever did anything like that again, she would not hold back, she would throw at Loki all she had and burn away whatever was left of him.

Steve’s jaw clenched and he put the mug down, wrapping his arms over his chest instead. Steve didn’t forget anything and the blank look in Clint’s eyes would appear in his mind whenever he kissed Loki, and he didn’t forget all the lives Loki had taken. If anything, all the wounds felt raw once again and he often didn’t know what to do with them, how to live with himself now that he was willing to give himself over to someone who had taken so much from him already, and from the people he now considered his family.

Steve looked at Loki for a while, at the grin that stretched his face into a grotesque mask and didn’t reach all the way up to his eyes that hid all the pain he didn’t want others to see. Steve knew it was stupid, he knew he was stupid, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

He caught Natasha’s gaze who kept looking at him expectantly, and held it. “I want you to trust me and my judgment.”

Natasha gave him a small, bitter smile. “Your judgment may not be the most reliable right now.” Her eyes darted to Loki who seemed entirely unbothered, slowly sipping on his tea and watching the exchange in unnerving silence.

Steve couldn’t argue with that logic but he stood his ground. “Please.” He sounded pathetic and by the way Natasha arched an eyebrow and both of Loki’s shot all the way up his forehead, they both thought so too.

Natasha glared at him again but her face softened. “I trust you.” She said in the end, her shoulders visibly slumping, maybe in defeat. Steve couldn’t tell. “And you’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do.”

Steve was surprised that Natasha gave in so easily and it wasn’t until hours later when Loki had disappeared to wherever it was he usually went, that she cornered him, her expression hard. “I want you to listen to me, Steve.” Steve looked up from his plate of food, noting the look of determination plastered to her face. “I know you won’t like it, but you need to hear it from someone.”

Steve sighed but gestured for Natasha to take a seat. She didn’t and instead continued to hover over him like a hawk. Steve continued to eat, silently bracing himself for what was to come. 

“You don’t really know him.” Natasha said in a low voice. “I know he may seem like a harmless kitten with you but if you ever break up and he goes on a rampage, it will be your fault.” Her eyes were sharp and the scolding was relentless. “I want you to be aware of this before you develop any real feelings.”

“Nat-”

“No, Steve.” She shook her head, her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze hard, unrelenting. “You need to be aware of that. If you break his heart, he might take revenge on the entire planet.”

This effectively silenced Steve. He looked away from Natasha, unwilling to admit it to himself, but knowing that she was right. Whatever awful thing Loki would potentially do in the future out of heartbreak, Steve would be the one responsible for it. 

“I know.” He finally said, quietly.

Natasha’s face softened. “Do what you think is right.” She said, “But don’t be stupid.” There was a pause and then Natasha rested her hand on his shoulder. “But if he breaks your heart, I will break him .”

Steve couldn’t help but smile.

Eventually Steve moved from a loud capital that was Prague to Poland. This time Natasha went with him, apparently also needing peace and quiet.

Steve didn’t tell Loki anything but he found them anyway, one evening materializing in front of the house, his face illuminated by the light of the stars.

Asgard had quickly become both tiring and boring. Various consultants would shove papers in his face all day long, asking for advice or, which was much worse, for Odin to take action.

“Perhaps it is best to let the realms see to their internal affairs on their own. Most of the rulers are of formidable wisdom.” Loki made the best impression of the Allfather he could, sitting on the throne, looking down on those who came to him and not showing any emotions.

The consultants stared blankly at him, clearly thinking that Odin was losing the battle against his age, but knowing not to point it out lest he unleashed his rage on them. The Allfather was known for his temper after all.

Once he was left alone at last, Loki left the palace and walked through the rainbow bridge until he reached the observatory. Heimdall was invariably at his post, staring into the vastness of the universe and watching over all the realms.

The watcher did not acknowledge his king’s presence as Loki stood next to him. There was a silent understanding between them. Heimdall’s powers allowed him to see all, including Odin’s true face. He never acknowledged what he knew about their ruler, but he didn’t show Loki the same respect as used to display before Odin.

“How is Midgard?” Loki asked, folding his hands together and wishing that he could see what Heimdall could see with his golden eyes. 

Loki felt his face twitch when the watcher’s lips turned up into a brittle smile. “You mean to ask about Steve Rogers.”

Loki glared but otherwise kept his composure. “Tell me.” He said dryly.

“You mocked Thor for his love for Jane Foster.”

Loki knew the irony of it. He could almost hear the cackle of the Norns who had decided to tangle his fate together with one of Earth’s mightiest heroes. Oh, how pathetic he had to seem to Heimdall.

“Mind how you speak to your king,” Loki growled and any sane person would frighten at Odin speaking to them that way, but Heimdall did not flinch.

“You arrived just in time.” Heimdall said and the smile faded from his face. “He is in danger.”

All blood drained from Loki’s face. It took him about two seconds to process what Hemdaill had just said before both anger and fear filled him. The feelings were so overpowering that he could not control himself anymore and he shoved Heimdall. The watcher did not flinch.

“Why did you not send for me?” He hissed.

“I saw you were coming,” Heimdall said in a calm voice.

The way Heimdall did not seem bothered, as if enjoying Loki’s anguish, made the rage burn through him violently and it took all of Loki’s self-control not to drop the glamour and unleash his full power upon Heimdall. 

But there was no time for petty grievances.

“Take me to him,” Loki demanded firmly, his magic thrashing inside his body, begging to be set free.

Heimdall apparently knew better than to comment. He simply nodded and turned the sword, opening the Bifrost. The moment the observatory was gone and Loki was enveloped in the brilliant light, he dropped Odin’s face, choosing to show whatever threat Steve was up against his own instead. 

Heimdall took him to a dark and unpleasant place. It was an old building (for Midgard’s standards) with no windows or any other apparent source of light. With a flick of his wrist, Loki summoned both his armor and a flame of fire that illuminated the dark hallway before him.

What it illuminated as well was a figure half-lying on the floor and half-leaning against the wall. Loki was at his side in a second, quickly recognizing that it was Steve in his battle gear. He quickly looked him over, sighing a silent sigh of relief that despite his closed eyes and pale face, there was a faint but steady pulse.

Loki lowered himself, grabbed Steve’s face in both of his hands, and ran his thumb along a nasty scratch that ran along his cheek. “You fool.” Loki seethed, fearing that whatever poison had been pumped into his body would not be enough to save him now. “Steve, open your eyes.” He shook him slightly, but his eyes remained closed. Then he looked down at his black suit and realized with horror that his chest was covered in bullet holes and the fabric of his shirt had been dampened with blood.

Panic ran through him. Any other mortal would have been dead long ago but Steve was still holding on. For how long, however, was not clear to him. If he focused his magic enough he could get Steve to a hospital in a blink of an eye but Loki did not trust the mortal doctors with their primitive tools to treat him properly. 

It was not the wisest of ideas but it was the only one that made sense, that ensured that Steve would be alright. Loki wished there was enough time for him to find each and every person responsible for Steve's wounds. He would not kill them smoothly. No, he would relish in watching them suffer and beg for either life or death.

Loki left those thoughts for later and carefully gathered Steve into his arms. He was big and heavy, his shoulders were broad but Loki managed to hold him in a semi-comfortable position.

“Heimdall!” He called out and less than a second later the same light as before wrapped itself around both him and Steve. He hated how limp and cold Steve felt in his arms so he tightened his hold as if his sheer will could keep him together.

It was only when he stood in front of Heimdall that Loki realized that he’d not put on his disguise. “I called for the healers. They are waiting outside.” The watcher said in a flat tone, seemingly unfazed by seeing Loki in his more usual attire.

“Thank you,” Loki said despite everything and put on Odin’s face before walking onto the rainbow bridge, now carrying Steve even more awkwardly.

Three women waited for them, two of them holding a stretcher and the third standing on the side. Their eyes widened almost comically when they saw their king, the dignified ruler of the nine realms, carry a mortal man in his arms.

“This man needs help,” Loki said firmly in the Allfather’s voice and the two women quickly approached with the stretcher, letting him lower Steve onto it. The soldier grunted and Loki could not decide whether that was a good thing or not.

The women carried him away but the third one lingered behind and matched Loki’s pace as they walked towards the palace. “He is not of Asgard.” Her gaze was wary as she watched the king carefully.

Loki did not look back at her because his gaze was trained on Steve and his face that lacked any healthy color. 

“He is the best Midgardian warrior,” Loki said, knowing that it was true either way. “He doesn’t deserve to die a gruesome death.”

The healer’s eyes stayed defiant as though Odin’s wrath meant no threat to her. “We have never treated a mortal before.”

“You treated Jane Foster.”

“Unsuccessfully.”

Loki finally looked at her, glaring and wishing to shake her until she understood the gravity of the situation, that if Steve died, half of him would too, perhaps even more than that. The mere thought of a world without Steve filled him with so much dread that Loki had to gather all of his magic and all of his willpower to physically stop himself from murdering that woman on the spot and revealing his true self.

“Do not question my orders.” He said in the end and the woman stayed silent after that, only occasionally casting uncertain glances his way. Loki followed all the way to the palace and to the healing charges, doing his best not to let his fear show, even though it pressed down on him until he felt paralyzed by its clutch.

The healers did not comment when Odin stayed as they undressed the soldier and started tending to his wounds. Steve’s chest was ridden with red holes that still poured blood and it was only then that Loki looked down at his hands, past the illusion, and saw that his hands were red too, soaked in Steve’s blood.

Loki knew that Odin had never stayed behind to watch over the warriors, even those that had mortal wounds, but he could not bring himself to care, could not force his feet to turn away and leave.

“He will recover.” The same healer spoke again but this time her voice held more compassion as she removed bullet after bullet with a stone face, clearly trained to be unbothered by the sight of even the most gruesome of wounds. 

Loki held in a breath of relief but let his fists unclench and nodded. “Thank you.” He said. “Once you are done, bring him to the royal chamber.”

The healer looked at him pointedly but did not seem surprised. “Which one?”

“Frigga’s,” Loki said without thinking. “And make sure that he has all that he needs.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Even though it burned, even though it felt impossible, Loki forced his feet to move and left, hardly stopping himself from looking over his shoulder and checking whether Steve’s cheeks had regained some of their usual lovely colors.

The few hours Loki forced himself to stay away from Steve, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He wandered through the palace and through the garden, indifferent to the curious gazes both guards and regular citizens cast his way.

And the more he walked the grimmer his thoughts became. Steve had very nearly died, surely would have if Loki had not found him when he had. It was then that Loki realized his fatal mistake. 

At first, getting on Steve’s nerves was only about messing with his brother’s favorite toys and seeing how much he could exploit them, how much time he could have. Flirting with Steve was also part of a game and the fact that the soldier was easy on the eyes only encouraged him. Back when Loki had first learned of the soldier and his peculiar past, he had also learned that Steve Rogers had been once in love with a woman he’d eventually outlived. 

The chances of Steve reciprocating his advances were ridiculously slim, so slim that it made Loki’s flirting that usually resulted in Steve’s cheeks turning red all the more enjoyable and non-committing.

Loki did not expect Steve to one day kiss him, to one day take his breath away with a touch that burned his skin, with breath that made him shiver and passion that made him see stars even during the darkest of nights.

He’d thought it would be nothing more than pleasure, a purely physical affair.

He tried to banish all the thoughts but his feet led him straight to Frigga’s room and Loki couldn’t force himself not to see for himself that Steve had truly escaped death’s grasp. After all, it was hard to convince a soul to come back from the brink of an endless but soothing abyss. He knew it better than anyone.

Loki pushed the door open and his heart trembled because he couldn’t remember the last time he had been to his mother’s chamber. His eyes immediately fell on the bed where Steve lay, still unconscious but at least less pale.

He ignored the memories that came with seeing all of Frigga’s favorite books. He ignored the image of his mother standing by the window and looking over the garden. He ignored it and came to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Loki took Steve’s hand and relished in the warmth that spread over his skin at the contact. But he hated that his hand looked like his father’s, so despite the risk, Loki dropped the disguise because when Steve woke up, he didn’t want him to see the face of an old man that he’d never seen before.

Steve was mortal. Loki was too but his lifespan would greatly outlive Steve’s. In Asgard’s terms, he was no more than a child. Loki hardly remembered himself at that age. 

Loki didn’t want to admit it, but he’d grown to care for the soldier, as foolish and dangerous as that was. He reached down and brushed away stray locks of hair from Steve’s forehead. Were he not a sorcerer himself, Loki would have thought that Steve had cast some kind of love spell over him.

Because Loki did not fall in love, because each time he had fallen in the past he’d either been hurt or hurt others, on purpose more often than not. Love was often part of war, a weapon as good as any other. 

Seducing a prince of a different realm often meant gaining control of an entire country from behind the scenes.

Loki did not love Steve. He couldn’t love him, because if he did he would condemn himself to one day, a day that would come sooner rather than later, break his heart into a thousand little pieces that would not fit back together ever again.

“What have you done with me,”

It didn’t sound like a question, rather like a shameful confession whispered in the dark of the night, not meant for anyone to hear.

Steve kept his eyes closed even though he’d been awake for a couple of minutes, an old habit from the army. He knew he’d been shot many times. He vaguely remembered some Hydra rats finding him roaming through their old - seemingly abandoned - base, and using him for target practice. He’d been alone and taken by surprise. He had no chance.

He’d thought he would die but then he woke up in a bed that smelled like something sweet that he couldn’t put a name to. He ached all over but he felt a strange sense of peace as well. It didn’t seem natural but he didn’t mind it either.

Steve felt Loki hold his hand and his grip was so tight that it verged on desperation. He knew it was Loki who had saved him.

He slowly blinked his eyes open and saw Loki hunched forward and staring off into the distance. The dark shadows underneath his eyes indicated that he was tired enough not to keep them hidden under his illusions. His suit as well as his hands were covered in dried-up blood but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

Steve looked around the room he was in and blinked. It looked like a room a king slept in. 

“Hey,” Steve finally decided to make his presence known, seeing how much Loki worried about him. His eyes immediately darted to him and relief washed over his face. It was soon gone though and a familiar mask of disgust appeared.

“You would have died there,” Loki said grimly and let go of Steve’s hand. He immediately missed his touch.

“I’ve been through worse and pulled through.” Steve flashed him a smile but Loki didn’t seem amused.

“Doubtful,” Loki said. “Your doctors wouldn’t have been able to save you.”

Steve’s eyes once again traveled through the room that at closer inspection seemed just different enough to make him question whether he was even on Earth. “Where are we?”

Loki looked away, as if in shame. “Asgard.”

Steve blinked. “How?”

Loki found his gaze and his shoulders dropped. His guard was down and he seemed defeated. “I didn’t know who else could save you.”

Steve nodded slowly and grabbed Loki’s hand again, trying to comfort him. “Hey, I’m fine.”

Loki looked at him sharply. “How foolish do you have to be to go out of your way to a fight when you are so fragile?”

Steve scoffed. “I’m not fragile.”

“You couldn’t defeat me.” Loki pointed out. “And I’m not the worst of them.”

“Give me a break. I was two weeks out of ice. We should spar sometime and we’ll see who’s better.”

Loki shook his head. “This is not a laughing matter.”

Silence fell between them and Steve realized that he’d never seen Loki like this before. Usually, he pretended that nothing could touch him and that he didn’t care whether Steve lived or died. He acted as if Steve’s company was nothing more than mindless entertainment. 

This was a side of him that Steve was seeing for the first time. He would address it, but later. Right now Loki seemed one bad comment away from shutting him out.

“How did we even get here? Didn’t they arrest you?”

Loki’s jaw visibly clenched and he was silent for a while, clearly thinking hard about something. Then he looked at Steve. “I have been ruling Asgard wearing Odin’s face ever since Thor saw me die.”

Steve stared at him blankly. “Why?” He eventually asked.

“Because Odin lost his wisdom and Thor did not want to take over the throne.” He shrugged. “And I knew I could do it better than either of them.”

“It’s not right.” Steve couldn’t keep himself from saying.

“And what do you know about what is right or what is wrong for Asgard?” Loki’s voice was sharp, edged with insults that died on his tongue before he could say them. “You know nothing.”

“What about Odin?” Steve knew it would only anger Loki more but he had to know.

Once again Loki freed his hand from Steve’s grasp and moved away, standing from the bed and pacing the room. “I have not killed him yet.” He spat, angrily. “I might though, eventually.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, confident that he was right.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Loki said as he wandered over to the door. Before Steve could say anything to that, Loki started speaking again. “You need rest. You will stay here for a couple of days and then I’ll send you back.”

Steve’s eyes trailed after him and once the door was closed, he felt a sudden cold wash over him, all the way down to his soul.

Steve found out that after a good night of sleep in the softest bed he’d ever slept, he felt good enough to get up and do some exploring. Loki had not visited him since the previous day and Steve decided to give him some space, not knowing where to even look for him.

He got up from the bed and frowned, not really liking the loose clothes he’d been given. He walked over to the wardrobe, hoping to find something else to wear but when he opened it, there were only dresses. 

Loose linen clothing it was then.

Steve left the room and walked through the hallway, without any real goal in mind. His eyes were drawn to the paintings that ornamented the walls. Mostly they portrayed people, Loki’s ancestors, Steve guessed. His theory was proven right when at the end of the hallway he saw two familiar faces. Loki and Thor. Even then there was a certain darkness to Loki. While Thor’s face was stretched wide into a grin, Loki’s was solemn, his eyes hiding secrets that Steve was sure he hadn’t told anyone.

“What are you doing here?” Steve had barely enough time to turn his head before a strong hand pushed him into a wall. It was Odin but the mask soon fell and Steve was with Loki who held him firmly and made all the barely-healed wounds hurt again.

“Do you expect me to sit in the room alone all the time?” Steve asked, not scared of the deep shade of green that flickered across Loki’s eyes in warning. 

“They can’t see you,” Loki said but loosened his hold and eventually let go completely. “They would know who you are.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “How?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “When Thor came back he apparently brought a picture of you and told the royal painter to make it into a painting.”

Steve knew he had to see it. “I can’t stay in the room all day.” He said again in a firm voice.

Loki shook his head in disbelief but some of the anger seemed to melt away. “Fine.” He said and flicked his fingers, turning back into Odin. It was uncanny how easily and precisely he could replicate someone’s looks. 

Odin offered Steve his arm and when he refused to take it, rolled his eyes in a way that just screamed Loki . "Come on. Just take it."

Steve groaned. He wasn't some dame that needed an escort but when he reached for Loki's arm and caught a glimpse of his body, Steve realized that it was exactly what he looked like. 

"What-" He started, and frowned at how feminine his voice now sounded.

Loki gave him one of his most vicious smirks and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist when he still refused to move. "Before his beloved wife, Odin used to have many lovers. Perhaps enough time has passed for him to find a new one."

Steve felt his cheeks flush and he hoped Loki's illusion made it invisible. "This isn't right."

Loki laughed, nudging him forward. They walked through lavish rooms, one more extravagant than the last. Steve kept stretching his neck as he looked around, fascinated. They passed other Asgardians and each sent a curious gaze their way, their eyes widening. Some whispered to one another or laughed.

They walked out of the palace and Steve almost gasped at the sheer beauty of Asgard. The buildings were tall and shiny, but looked nothing like those he knew from Earth.

Loki led him into a secluded garden where they were finally alone. He dropped Steve's arm and his face became solemn.

Steve couldn't tear his gaze away from all the beautiful flowers he was seeing for the first time, from the sunlight that illuminated the leaves in an unnaturally beautiful way.

Loki sat on a marble bench and silently watched him for a moment. "Don't get used to it. I am not planning to be around every time you decide to stand alone opposite an entire army."

Steve reached for one of the flowers, caressing the petals with his fingers. "If you want to have a serious conversation then make us look like ourselves again."

Loki rolled his eyes but soon a beam of green light washed over his face and he looked like himself. Steve frowned, seeing how tired he looked. "You are foolish."

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair, glad that he seemed to be back in his own body. "You know, it wouldn't hurt if you just said you're worried about me."

Loki visibly clenched his jaw and his face became grim. "I just cannot fathom how careless you are."

Steve couldn’t help but smirk. For someone who considered himself excellent at hiding what he didn’t want others to see, his true feelings were surprisingly obvious. "I didn’t think they would be there. Otherwise I would never go there alone."

Loki stared at him for a moment with the same helpless expression but then he put on the same mask of indifference he usually wore. "You heal quickly." He started rising from his spot on the bench. "I don't think there's a reason for you to stay here any longer."

Loki had been absent from Steve's life for over a month. Steve tried not to dwell on it because Loki had never promised him anything, because maybe to him Steve had never been more than another body to keep him warm.

Steve ran. He ran longer and faster than ever before, pushing past his limits until his muscles were sore and until he was too tired to think about anything other than his bed and maybe shower if he was functioning enough.

As he went through the motions of his daily routine Steve tried to remind himself that he was a grown man who had lived through a horrible war, saw people die in the most gruesome ways. He'd lost his friends and the girl he loved.

After everything, pining after Loki seemed just childish.

And contrary to what Loki thought about him, Steve was not as stupid and naive.

He didn't believe in happy endings anymore. Maybe he never had in the first place.

Still, no matter what he did or how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, Steve couldn’t deny, at least not to himself, that he missed Loki and that his absence hurt. 

When Loki finally showed up, Steve didn't know if he felt more angry or relieved. However, whatever it was, neither felt justified.

For once he had the decency to knock. Steve didn't expect to find him on the other side of the door, and his lips involuntarily twitched into a smile. He quickly chased it away though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

Loki’s face seemed young, bare , especially with his black hair falling loosely on his shoulders. Steve knew little to nothing about magic, but he had a feeling that Loki was for once stripped off his usual defenses and disguises.

"I come bearing gifts." Loki said and a bottle of mead materialized in his hands. 

Steve kept Loki at the door for a moment longer, not wanting to give in so easily. His gaze was downcast, almost shameful.

"Is it your way of saying you're sorry?" Steve asked, a bit harshly, gripping the edge of the door tightly.

Loki raised his eyebrows, in a challenge. "That depends on whether or not it's working."

Steve sighed, opening the door wider. Loki stepped inside and his posture became immediately more relaxed. He walked across the room and placed the bottle on the coffee table in front of his usual spot on the sofa. Two glasses appeared next to it.

Loki sat down, unscrewed the bottle and poured himself a drink, not even waiting for Steve to join him or bothering to fill the glass for him as well.

Steve came closer and sat next to him, watching as Loki downed the golden liquid, his eyes immediately closing in content. He leaned back against the cushions and his hand wandered over to Steve, his cold fingers coming to wrap themselves around Steve's.

He watched for a while, before pouring himself a glass as well and taking a seat. "I was starting to think you decided to die again." Steve said, aiming for a light tone, but knowing that some of his bitterness slipped through.

Loki smiled, but didn't open his eyes, only tightened his hold on Steve's hand. "Not this time around."

Steve kept watching him. "Where have you been then?"

Loki opened his eyes and peered up at him. "Asgard. Where else would I be?"

Steve frowned but did what he could to hide how hurt he felt. "Right." He said tightly.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "I came here for a pleasant evening, not for scolding." Then his voice lowered, almost into a whisper. "For that I could go to my brother."

They were both silent for a moment, sipping on the mead every once in a while. Steve knew why he had brought alcohol. He wanted to avoid any serious conversation. 

And Steve told himself he was okay with that. At some point Loki moved closer and his hands rested on Steve's shirt as he unbuttoned it. Steve enjoyed his cold fingers as they roamed over his skin. He leaned over, pulling Loki in for a kiss. He went willingly, each of his touches gentle and considerate, so different from the way he fought - harshly and without much remorse for his enemy.

But as they kissed, as Steve rediscovered the expanses of Loki's skin, a sudden realization hit him. He opened his eyes and looked at Loki, at the soft blush that colored his cheeks, his dilated pupils and hair that got everywhere , and thought to himself that this was nowhere near enough.

Loki grabbed his face harshly, and kissed Steve again, oblivious to his lover's sudden realization.

"I don't want casual anymore." Steve managed to say between kisses. 

Loki immediately stilled his movements, then pushed away from Steve, falling back against the cushions. His hair was in a complete disarray, he was half-naked and in his current state he looked nothing like the powerful God he often wanted to be perceived as.

He breathed heavily for a while, looking at Steve through narrowed eyes. "Well, you gave me the impression that you were enjoying my company." His voice became level, no emotions slipping through. He flicked his fingers and looked perfectly put-together again. "If that is no longer the case, I will take my leave." He rose from the sofa but before he could disappear, Steve grabbed his hand. Loki looked at him in question.

"You would give up so easily?" He asked. "You really care so little about me?"

Loki raised his eyebrows, his expression turning sour. "Are you testing me?"

"No." Steve answered quickly, lessening his hold on Loki's hand, then letting go completely. 

Loki stayed in place, but his face became hard, unreadable. "Then what do you want?"

Steve felt his shoulders slump as he stared at Loki, knowing that one wrong thing he said could drive him away for good. "I want more." 

Loki continued to play stupid. "In what way?" He asked harshly.

Steve opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again, feeling more than a little ashamed. Then again, he was now older, and he knew there was nothing wrong with speaking about his feelings plainly. "I don't know what you call it on Asgard." He rubbed his face, searching for the right words. "Hell, I don't know what people really call it here these days."

Loki kept looking at him expectantly, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're not making any sense." He said but his voice was softer, making Steve believe that Loki knew exactly what he was talking about. 

"I want us to be together. " He said in the end, in the simplest way he knew. "For real."

The silence that followed was unreadable. Steve avoided Loki's gaze for as long as he could take it, until he heard a loud cackle that almost made him jump. 

Loki was bent in half, a maniacal grin on his face as he laughed, the sound echoing off the walls and coming back stronger. "Oh, please." He said once he calmed down enough to properly look at Steve.

Steve watched silently, feeling a light blush cover his cheeks. Loki could lie all he wanted, bend reality according to his will, but Steve knew better. "Don't tell me you don't want the same thing."

Loki stopped laughing at once and straightened himself, then looked back at Steve. "How do you suppose we go about it then?" He asked in a low voice, taking a step forward, his eyes flickering a dark shade of green. "I come here and live with you in this little house?"

Steve let out a long sigh, rubbing his eyes. He'd always known this conversation wouldn’t be easy. Then again, more often than not talking to Loki about anything serious or real was extremely difficult and frustrating. 

He looked at Steve for a long and painful moment, his fists clenching and unclenching, various incomprehensible feelings passing across his features. Steve observed the subtle twitches of his muscles and the way his eyes continued to hold the green sparkles that promised a display of magic.

"Would that be so bad?"

The corners of Loki's mouth turned up into a smile. An awful wicked smile that didn't reach his eyes. Then his features changed, slowly morphing into something softer. Steve let out a small gasp and wanted to throw up when he saw who Loki was turning into. Usually he could disguise himself in a blink of an eye but this change was gradual. His black hair lightened and his eyes took on a warm shade of brown. He was doing it on purpose. He wanted Steve to suffer 

"Is this what you want?" Peggy's crisp voice cut through the air like a razor. Steve shivered, wishing he could break eye-contact, but it seemed impossible.

"Loki, stop." His voice cracked and tears filled his eyes. It was one thing to have Peggy etched in his memories but something completely different to see her in the flesh, exactly the way he remembered her. All the memories, the what-ifs he'd spent an eternity pondering came back at once, bringing in a fresh wave of pain.

Loki lowered himself and grabbed Steve's chin, his fingers feeling just like Peggy's, warm and not yet calloused by all the hardships life would eventually throw at her. Steve's hands trembled as he grabbed Loki's wrist and tried to pray the fingers away.

"I read your files." Loki said, still using Peggy's voice, his fingers unwilling to let go of Steve's face. "I read about your love affair with that woman." Steve swallowed hard. He tried to turn his gaze away from Peggy's piercing eyes but couldn't. "You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her."

His files did contain some information about the nature of his relationship with Peggy but said nothing about his wishes. He'd told the press something like that, but not long before the accords. Loki had to have been searching for it.

Loki continued to hold Steve’s face, his grip growing more desperate with each passing second. "Look around, Steve." He said in that soft voice that brought so many unwanted memories. Steve did look around and saw that the mountain cabin had been transformed into a cozy house taken straight out of the fifties. The lights were dimmed, the curtains drawn and there was even a fireplace burning, its flames illuminating the fear in Loki's eyes.

"You wanted to have a home, a family ." Peggy's voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. "You wished for this woman to bear your children." Steve squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what would come next. "Look!" The voices of children reached his ears and Steve couldn’t help but open his eyes. Two children - a boy and a girl - were running around and squealing in delight. 

"Why are you doing this to me," Steve whispered, feeling tears run down his face.

Loki let go of Steve's chin and looked around, his gaze tracing passively after the children. "Because I need you to understand that you will never have any of this with me."

Steve sighed, leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He’d always wanted to have a family, Loki wasn’t wrong about that. He’d wanted a little place on this planet to call his own, to be his refuge away from everything else. He’d dreamed of a simple life, without the sky falling on top of his head time and time again, without aliens or robots constantly chasing after him.

He’d never planned to fall in love with Loki, someone he once considered - and probably still should - his enemy. It had felt like something he had little control over and maybe it was both stupid and naive, but Steve couldn’t help the way he felt, especially when he knew that Loki felt the same way. Otherwise he wouldn’t have put up this little show.

Steve didn’t know what to say, so he said the only thing that came to his mind.

“I don’t care.” He said simply. “Because I love you.”

Steve grabbed his wrist and squeezed it tightly, to the point that his skin burned. "Stop this!" His voice thundered as he glared at Loki, his eyes shiny with tears.

Loki wanted to laugh in his face, he wanted to taunt him and to show him exactly why he couldn't be what Steve wanted him to be. He burned and ached to hurt him, to see the fury and heartbreak in his eye, like he had done to Thor and to his mother many, many times.

In the end he couldn't. In the end all of his defenses fell and he turned back into himself, shaking. Because it was Steve with his warm eyes, and smile that would let him get away with the worst of crimes. Because it was Steve who saw all the ugliness, all the parts that he hated about himself. He knew each horrible part, and he not only could look past it, but had chosen to trust him, to love him despite all the things he had seen him do.

All the illusions disappeared and Loki felt weak, slumping against the sofa, but refusing to meet Steve’s gaze. He felt shame, remembering the way he mocked Thor’s affection for Jane and his mortal friends. He’d laughed and pitied him, knowing that it was only a fantasy and could never become more. Even if Thor claimed the throne and made Jane his queen, it would only last a couple of decades at best, but would cause centuries of anguish.

Perhaps there were spells but those were known only to the most powerful and trusted. Loki supposed his mother could have had such knowledge but she’d never shared it with him. Likely she’d imagined Loki would use it for something sinister.

She would have been probably right.

The magic still buzzed through him, reminding him of just how limited his own powers were. He chanced a look at Steve and felt awful when he saw the signs of anguish on his body. His hands were pressed against his thighs, but they still trembled visibly and tears marked his face.  

“You keep asking what I want from you.” Loki said slowly, hating how quiet and unsure his voice sounded. Steve’s eyes darted to him, reflecting the last rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. “Yet you’ve never revealed your own intentions.” He watched Steve take in a shaky breath. “I did not force you into anything. You went willingly.” 

Steve stared off into the distance for a while, then his eyes landed on the half-empty bottle of mead, but he didn’t reach for it. “Believe it or not but falling in love with you wasn’t exactly my plan.”

Hearing those words almost brought tears to Loki’s eyes but he controlled himself. He tried to remind himself not to believe those words, that letting anyone ever into his heart had always ended in disaster. 

But Steve kept looking at him with those blue eyes that could never hide anything from him, no matter how hard he tried. Loki couldn’t help himself. He moved closer and leaned against Steve, reveling in the way his body felt against his. Loki had a few mortal lovers in his life, but those had always been fragile creatures, ridiculously easy to break. Steve was different, stronger. His body was firm, crafted with as much care as the deadliest of weapons. Loki didn’t have to control himself, he could lose himself and have each of his wishes fulfilled, without fearing that he would break his lover.

Steve wrapped his arm around Loki’s shoulders and pulled him closer, his breath ghosting over the skin of his neck. Loki closed his eyes and tried to relax, even if all the doubts and feelings still made it impossible to think clearly.

“I cannot make any promise to you.” Loki said weakly, because if he did he would condemn himself to a fate far worse than any of the deaths he’d lived through.

“Just stay with me.” Steve whispered and kissed the side of his head. “Don’t break my heart.”

Loki breathed slowly and felt Steve breath against him too. He wrapped Steve’s arm tighter around himself, wishing he could stay in his embrace forever, wishing that he was brave enough to make a promise that would satisfy them both. 

Thor didn’t comment on Steve's tears but the hand that rested on his shoulder stayed there, providing a comforting weight. He didn’t say much about Steve’s story either, only listening and waiting patiently each time Steve needed a moment to collect himself before he went on.

They stayed on the porch until morning. It was only when the sun rose and they had been quiet for over an hour that Thor turned to him with a sad smile on his even sadder face. “Thank you, friend.”