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Steve knew he was the first of the Avengers to visit Asgard. Not just the first to have the invitation extended and then decline, but the first to be welcomed. He’d been in need of a vacation, Thor had said; a place no earthly tethers could touch, whose crystal clear water and endless skies were enough to soothe anyone. Steve had declined the offer when Thor had held out a hand and flicked his gaze skyward, had declined the offer when Thor’s lips had found their way to the column of his throat and his voice was nothing but a purred rumble, had declined the offer curled up in Thor’s arms, the scent of sex and sweat thick around them. It wasn’t in him to take a vacation, and certainly not to Asgard. He hadn’t been without a phone and an itinerary since he woke up in a fake hospital room a few short years ago, and he was pretty sure it definitely wasn’t in him to take the kind of self-indulgent vacation Thor was offering, one where he doubted they’d do much but roll around in bed all day.
--
“You should go,” Bucky said after the fifth time Thor had asked him, hopeful but not pushy in his persistence. He curled his hand in Steve’s, laced their fingers like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. “It would do you some good, Stevie.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ll come back some sort of spoiled consort,” Sam had laughed, curling up contentedly on the couch at Steve’s right, kissing his cheek as he talked. “Dressed in some ridiculous Asgardian outfit, yeah?”
Bucky leaned around Steve and smirked at Sam, eyes bright with mischief, more and more full of life, these days. “The big guy’s gonna send you back all vain and prettied up and Sam and I won’t even recognize you!” he said, plopping his head down on Steve’s shoulder and kissing where the wide-collared sweater exposed his skin.
“Fine, okay?” Steve relented. “The next time he asks, I’ll go.”
--
The first one. That was an offer he guessed he couldn’t refuse, especially from Thor, of all people. Thor, with his bright eyes and sweet smile, with the way he could always make Steve laugh with some sarcastic remark Steve could picture himself saying just as easily. The first one invited.
That was the thought that echoed in his head when Thor pulled him tight against his chest and flashed that heart-stopping smile. There was the briefest moment of guilt when he looked at Bucky and Sam standing a short distance away, for leaving them here on Earth, alone, but they were holding hands and shooing (Sam, what a jerk) and waving (Bucky, so sweet) with their free ones and Steve felt himself relax. The first one, he thought when Thor twirled Mjolnir in his hand and the centrifugal force made the air hum.
“Hold on.” Thor whispered with a wink, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple, and it wasn’t just the electricity thrumming through the air that made his skin prickle and burn. He listened, clutched tight to Thor’s broad chest, broader than his own, handsome and well-formed, with one hand as the other clutched the duffel bag he’d packed, slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t very full - a few changes of clothes, the necessities. Socks and underwear, his sketchbook, a photo of himself with Sam and Bucky on either side because he didn’t think he could stand not seeing them for a week. A sketchbook, a simple set of pencils of varying leads. The set of oil pastels Bucky had bought him on his last birthday, another in a line of artistic gifts to make up for the years Steve had stared longingly through shop windows at mediums they couldn’t afford. “Are you ready?”
As they traveled, there was loudness. Then there was silence, nothing and everything. An oppressive thick blanket muting the everyday sounds he’s used to, the amplified rush of blood in his ears. He caught glimpses of far-off lands as they traveled he-didn’t-know-how-fast: landscapes with colors that didn’t exist on Earth, the spin of the planets, the ever-changing undulation of the universe itself. It was overwhelming, disorienting, but when he looked at Thor all the god did was smile.
They landed gracefully, more gentle than Steve would have expected with the speed they’d been traveling at.
“Heimdall,” Thor said warmly as he steadied Steve, laughing when he tripped over his long legs and swayed slightly. It has a certain effect on people, Steve remembered him saying. He was pretty sure he didn’t like it. “Allow me to introduce my guest."
The man he spoke to was stoic, stone statue-still except for bright, clever eyes that appraised the both of them carefully. “He is Steven Grant Rogers,” he said to Thor, then turning to Steve: “I know of you.”
Steve felt nervous, suddenly. Thor had mentioned that Odin didn’t like Midgardians in Asgard, that he was willing to indulge his son’s friends and lovers but didn’t make them feel over-welcome. That he hadn't even seemed happy to meet Jane, of all people. How sad Thor had looked when he'd said that. All of sudden he felt like he was being scrutinized for even daring to exist in this place and his stomach did a backflip, sending a slow wave of nausea and anxiety through him.
“Heimdall, must you be so severe?” Thor asked, and the man smiled, eyes like fiery stars beneath the brow of a pure gold helmet. “Don’t scare away my lover.”
Lover. Steve thumbed over the strap of his duffel bag. It wasn’t the first time Thor had referred to him that way and it wasn’t often he felt insecure, these days, but something about Asgard was so extravagant and this man, Heimdall, so difficult to impress, and -
“You have come from nothing and stood for everything you believe in. Fought alongside our prince, alongside many others with golden hearts. You have wielded Mjolnir.” Heimdall said. Steve swallowed heavily, swearing there was a “but” at the end of all of it. “You are welcome here.”
Thor caught his eye and winked, gave a quick half-bow to Heimdall and wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders, leading them away and toward the curved opening of the observatory. “You are my equal, Steve. As a warrior and a friend. As a lover.” he said, and Steve couldn’t think of a response. Removed from the Guardian’s scrutinizing gaze, he was beginning to notice everything - the clockwork gears on the inside, rotating slowly, shining, the bright expanse of cloudless sky outside, the way Thor seemed to glow even more than normal in his home. Ethereal, incredible.
“Shall I call for horses, or perhaps a boat?” Thor asked, tearing him out of his daydream as the dome rotated to line up level with the bifrost Steve had heard much about. “Or shall we walk the long rainbow bridge together?”
“Walk,” Steve said. “I’m not too great on horses.”
“Very well, then.” Thor laughed, leaning down to murmur in Steve’s ear. “Close your eyes.”
Steve obeyed, letting his eyes slide closed and relaxing into the touch of Thor’s warm hands on his shoulders, steering him gently from polished floor to weightless bridge, only then instructing him “Open.”
Steve had heard stories of Asgard from the mouth of Thor himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He stopped dead, unsure what to look at first. The city was far in the distance, looming and shining. Rich metals, golds and silvers, elegantly constructed buildings so beautiful Steve knew no mortal on Earth could mimic. Spires that seemed to extend endlessly towards the sky, the faintest movement of people as they went about their days inside the city. It was incredible.
“Do you mind if I - uh...if I draw this?” Bucky had been trying to get him to draw again and well, he would probably kick himself if he brought his sketchbook and didn’t do something in it while he was here. He hoped Thor wasn’t in a hurry - he wanted to remember this sight, somehow. This first glance, the first greedy, insatiable urge to stare for hours at every piece of the city he could see.
Thor nodded. “Feel free,” and Steve pulled the strap of his duffel bag over his head and sat down on the bridge, long legs crossed under him as he extracted a pad of paper from inside. Thor watched him flip open a case of pencils (vastly inferior little things, but he’s seen a few of the pieces his friend and lover has created with them and he would wager there’s as much magic in them as in the enchanted quills they make use of here) and thoughtfully select one, bringing it to his lips and darting his tongue out to lick the edge of it, darkening it to deep black. He’d like to have that tongue elsewhere, lapping at his fingers, sliding thick and warm against his own, flicking across the head of his cock. There was time for that, later. He enjoyed watching Steve, enjoyed the habits he didn’t think the man knew he still had, muscle memory more than anything. Steve was optimistic, thoughtful, creative, bright - all things that Thor looked for in a companion.
“I confess, I’ve never really sat and watched the city like this.” Thor said after a while of staring, setting Mjolnir on the bridge and sitting down next to Steve. Hanging his legs off the edge, he inched closer, appreciative of the way Steve didn’t break his focus but pressed closer to him just the same. He and Loki had sat here as children, he remembered, hung their legs off of the edge and dared each other to scoot forward, ever closer to the water below. He wondered if Steve would sketch the water, wondered if he’d strip naked while he was here and swim in its warmth, body curling against Thor’s in the springs only he knew about. He’d show him, later, after this.
“I’ve thought of it often, when I’m away. But I’ve never stopped to just..take it in.” He leaned over Steve, chin resting on his shoulder, watching him sketch. In all honesty, Thor could probably draw if he put his mind to it - magic and godhood had gifted him with many talents, after all, but he’d never been an artist. Not the way his newest lover was, making something out of nothing, recreating what he himself could see but adding something in the process.
“It’s incredible,” Steve said honestly, hazarding a glance and a sweet smile at Thor before diverting his attention back to his sketch.
Pointing at a building Steve was shading, Thor said proudly “I helped to build that. And that.” It went on like that for a long time; Steve’s pencil scratching away at the page and Thor telling him that one, my mother loved, she said the building reminded her of the way the raven’s wing unfolded before flight and this one, I destroyed years ago in a fit of rage, I rebuilt it, and better.
Soon it was dusk. The stars were coming out, the lights in the city coming alive, and the pencil Steve had chosen is almost too short to hold, now. They’d lost all good light by the time Steve finally finished and set the sketchpad in front of him on the bridge, leaning back to admire his work and glancing over at Thor. A sweet gesture, Thor thought. Like he wanted to make sure he’d done it justice.
“It’s interesting to see what things you noticed,” Thor said as he looked it over, finger ghosting gently over the page so as not to smudge it.“This woman, here, on the cliff - I had not seen her until I watched you draw the way the wind caught her skirt. And this, the way that spire to the east curves slightly to the left.”
Steve blushed and replaced the pencil back in the case, the case back in the bag before reaching for the sketchbook. Thor slid it out of his reach and looked at it reverently.
“C’mon,” Steve said. “We wasted all day here, I want to see what else you had planned to show me...just hand it over, I’ll put it up and we can start walking, yeah?"
“This is beautiful. May I keep it?” Thor asked, eyes twinkling merrily as he locked them with Steve’s, fingers poised on the inner edge of the page, ready to tear it.
“I don’t know about beautiful.”
Thor pressed a finger to Steve’s lips. “Beautiful. The art matches its creator, I would say.”
He drew his finger down, catching the collar of Steve’s soft shirt in a gentle tug, knowing Steve’s gaze would follow. A trick, but a playful one. His favorite kind. When Steve moved to meet his gaze again, Thor made certain he was inches from his lips, cupping his face as he moved to kiss him.
Steve was fun to kiss. He was a paradox, strong but delicate at the same time, a fighter but so eager to submit all at once, a dizzying sensation.
“What do you notice about me?” Thor asked playfully when they parted, pushing Steve onto his back onto the bridge and crawling over him. Steve could feel the magic below him, thrumming through his veins. He felt lightheaded, drunk on the power of it, like it was flowing into him. Like Thor’s hands were the conduit, an endless open circuit that would overload him if he let it. He had more experience than this, had been with Thor countless times, but never here. Never on his terms, never trapped between pure, raw magic and a god looking at him with pure, unrestrained hunger. “I have to know.”
“Your eyes,” Steve answered, looking at the bright blue reflecting pink, red, green; the ever-changing light from the bifrost casting a rainbow of colors into his eyes. Colors Steve had never even seen, he swore, like he was seeing them for the first time in the kaleidoscope of Thor’s gaze.
Thor mmhm’ed as he lowered his head to kiss the tip of Steve’s nose.
“Your beard,” Steve went on, fingers rubbing across the scruff on his face. It scratched his fingertips, made them feel raw and new, like fresh-healed skin rather than calloused. Thor chuckled, low and amused, against his neck where he’d buried his face and Steve flushed. He was obvious, he knew. Bucky, Sam, Thor. There was a pattern, and that pattern was stubble that rubbed his milky skin raw when they kissed. “Your lips…”
With that, Thor kissed him again pressed his weight down against him and moaned into his mouth when Steve’s body rose to meet his own with no hesitation.
“The way your mouth moves when you smile. First the corner, then the rest.” Steve finished, hand coming up to tangle in the strands of hair fallen loose from the leather band. “Those are the things I notice. The things I would pay the most attention to if I drew you.”
“Ah, you’ll have to draw me sometime. I would consider it a great pleasure to see the way Steve Rogers perceives me.”
Steve hooked a leg around Thor’s waist and pressed against him again, the hand not tangled in his hair at the back of his neck as he pulled him down. “I like to draw my lovers posed naked for me.” He could feel the way Thor shuddered when he said it, the way his hips canted forward against Steve just slightly and he knew they should probably get to Thor’s rooms as soon as possible. Steve was new to Asgard, after all, and he didn’t really want to screw up his chances at staying for the whole length of his vacation by getting caught fucking on the magical bridge that connected them to everything.
“I plan to show you all of Asgard the way you once showed me your Brooklyn,” Thor said, sliding his arms under Steve and scooping him up like he weighed nothing. Not an easy feat for anyone mortal, Steve knew, and one that jerked the breath from his lungs in a brief moment of painful pleasure. “But tonight I’d prefer to give you quite the tour of my rooms instead. I think you’ll find the bed quite appealing, and the view from beneath me even more to your liking.”