shieldborne | For magpiemythos

Entry tags:

For magpiemythos

((continued from here))

After a confusing, worrisome evening spent together, Steve seems to feel he and Loki have hit some kind of new level in their friendship. He's less wry and cagey, a little more overly solicitous and warm; still, in the cold light of day he's a lot more awkward about both physical and emotional intimacy, and if Loki reverts to his usual teasing banter, Steve will fall into the same comfort zone.

He thinks about him often when he's not there, though. Hoping he's found a safer, kinder way to fight his demons. Fearing he hasn't, and feeling helpless to do anything more about that than he already has. At least now, Loki won't have to initiate all their contacts. He'll get occasional texts and calls from Steve, asking if he wants something at a store, if he's seen x or y movie, whether he's all right.

The others are a little bemused about Steve's increasingly less subtle interest in their otherworldly acquaintance. Some of them are openly skeptical, afraid he could be being played, but since no one has anything against Loki, it remains a topic of quiet, civil debate.

It's early in the evening this time when Steve texts Loki. Just a brief note, and he doesn't entirely expect a response: They're trying to convince me to get a tattoo of a bald eagle with a tear running down its face. It's a conspiracy, they're all in on it.

I doubt it would last long with my healing factor even if I did.

How's your evening going?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It might be sentimental, but Loki can't bring himself to care other than to enjoy it. At least so long as they don't talk about it too much or he thinks about it too long. Not just yet anyways.

"Oh, now you want some of my pancakes?" Sniffed in a teasingly offended tone, at odds with the crooked, impish grin that accompanied it. "I suppose I can share. But only because it's you."

"Just one," he murmurs in a wheedling voice close to his ear. "Or two? Two little pancakes. I don't even need syrup."

He nuzzles into his neck and gives a huff of warm breath against him. "Mn. Used to be a good cheap dinner, before the war. Whip up some pancakes with fruit and milk. Or chocolate chips, if we had 'em."

We being him and Bucky, when they were living together. "One of the few things I can reliably cook."

Gods damn it but that wasn't fair. How could Loki keep a straight face when Steve was asking so nicely? He could already tell that telling Steve 'no' in any seriousness wouldn't be an easy task. Just letting out a quiet sigh in response to the affection, fingers curling in his shirt in response.

"You're lucky you're too cute to let go pancakeless. I'll even share the syrup seeing how I'm such a generous sort." Mumbled against his shoulder in response, smile softening a bit. "It's the good stuff too."

Steve is amazed this is working so effectively. Usually it's Loki gently pushing his buttons. He's not sure when he became capable of the reverse, but he will only use this new superpower for good.

He kisses the hinge of the other man's jaw. "You're very generous. Do you want to sit down now or is this too comfortable?"

Because Steve is happy to just stand and cuddle, too. He'd suggest taking plates back to bed, but with syrup and pancakes that could result in an unfortunate mess. Perhaps not.

Loki likes it, Steve being able to push back like this. It's a nice sort of banter after all.

"Maybe that should be one of my domains too. God of mischief and generosity towards that handsome Steve Rogers fella." And it is very tempting to just stay right where he is, but at the same time he can smell the pancakes and they do smell good. Finally, he heaves a long-suffering sigh, nuzzling back on Steve one last time before he was drawing back at least enough to smile at him properly. "I think we're gonna wanna eat while they're still hot."

"See, that's what I've been trying to tell you," he says and draws back with a grin. "You want me to be part of your providence? That's the weirdest come-on I've ever heard, but I kinda like it."

He ruffles the other man's hair; despite the conversation he's giving no particular indication of mortal fear in the face of the divine. That's Steve for you. He's still more or less a monotheist, but reality is a lot bigger and more complicated than he realized when he was younger. His worldview has expanded.

He takes the plates to the table and rummages in the fridge enough to pull out butter, syrup, and milk before joining Loki to sit.

"What can I say? I'm not good at sharing." Just pretend there were no implications in that sentence. Nothing bigger or more important to be had. Just some more teasing banter delivered with a smile that had a bit more quicksilver to it, the trickster starting to feel more like himself at this point.

And he certainly wouldn't begrudge Steve his beliefs. Nordic gods were real, the Greek pantheon was real, just because he'd never seen evidence of the Abrahamic deity didn't mean he didn't exist. Steve earned respect for being able to accept the idea of other gods, at least in Loki's opinion. Not easy to change a worldview, especially with how short-lived humans could be.

Either way, Loki settled into his seat in a careless sort of sprawl of limbs, taking his knife to start buttering his stack of pancakes.

Steve laughs softly, for all the world like he's just receiving that as banter, but he's not. In fact, his heart flutters and skips suddenly; a positive reaction hidden behind a little pop of adrenaline. Those are possessive words, and while Steve has no intention of letting himself get steamrolled, even by someone he's gotten terribly attached to...

Well, that's a bit arousing.

He sits across from Loki, maneuvering easily around the sprawling limbs, and tastes his own pancakes first, then sprinkles a little syrup on them. Butter seems unnecessary at the moment; he's just looking for pure unadulterated sweetness.

Loki tried not to think about it too hard. He'd had dalliances aplenty in the past, both mortal and godly alike. But none of them had worked their way so completely under his skin as Steve had. He almost wasn't sure what to do with himself over it, whether he should pursue the man in earnest, or push him away for his own safety.

Nothing good ever seemed to come of the God of Mischief's love after all.

Once Steve was done with the syrup he'd help himself to it, dousing his pancakes with maybe a bit too much. He had a bit of a sweet tooth at times. As he did, he casually shifted a foot so one long leg shifted to lean against the side of Steve's leg. Just wanting some bit of contact still while they were eating.

Steve watches Loki pour syrup over his pancakes with quiet amusement. He's not about to criticize, though. Loki, he's sure, needs the energy. Do gods get a sugar rush? He doubts it, but if so...it might actually be fun to watch.

As far as dalliances are concerned, Steve is awfully circumspect. He can't separate emotion from sex, but he can separate emotion from dominance and submission, and he can separate dominance and submission from sex. One night stands and brief flings leave him more depressed than fulfilled. Casual dates are fun, but not enough. It's easier to keep to himself. Too easy, in fact.

Now he's realizing he can't compartmentalize with this man, and maybe he doesn't even want to any more. When their legs touch, he blinks, then smiles and otherwise pretends not to notice, while pressing back against him.

Oh if Steve only knew. It took much more than this to get Loki wired, but it was possible.

Loki was fairly good at separating emotions from sex. Some emotions anyways. He never seemed overly bothered if someone wasn't interested in his overtures, and while he knew that more often than not things tended to be casual? He still couldn't help but feel affection for those who shared his bed. Trust was harder, the sort that allowed for deeper-running emotion, but somehow Steve had managed to work himself in as someone Loki did trust. Someone he could allow in, let see behind his facade and not just vanish later.

Enough so that he couldn't help the warmth of the smile that was earned when Steve shifted into the casually affectionate contact.

Steve is staying quiet now, eating his pancakes in companionable silence, but he's attentive to Loki's body language and expressions. The smile and the touch warms him, and his blush deepens.

Partly he's just fair-skinned, but it's true he doesn't have a great poker face.

Once his plate is empty he leans back, looking toward the sink as if he thinks he should go wash dishes now. He doesn't move, though, waiting for Loki to finish his dinner.

It always pleases him when he gets Steve to blush. Not in a mean way, but it still always gets a smile from him.

And it didn't take Loki long to finish his own meal. Once he finished, he hoisted himself out of his chair, plucking up both his and Steve's empty plates, only pausing long enough to lay a kiss on the man's forehead both because he wanted to, and because he guessed it might get that blush going a little more.

Tossing Steve an amused smile over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen to get the dishes going.

"You made dinner, seems only fair I do dishes, right?"

Steve closes his eyes at the kiss, and when Loki moves toward the sink, he watches him go with something soft and hungry in his expression. The blush seems to be perpetual at this point, and Steve has just accepted it as status quo now. He's never going to be completely un-pink around Loki at this rate.

He smiles back, wry but pleased. "Sure, I'll sit here and watch your backside while you do that."

Pause. "Or you could wash and I'll dry."

Loki chuckled in response to that, just grinning unrepentantly over his shoulder at Steve, with a playful waggle of eyebrows.

"Well, I am very nice to look at so I can't blame you there." Modesty, thy name is Loki.

"Of course I wouldn't complain about help either. Give you a closer look and all that way too."

It's probably just as well Loki has no sense of modesty. If he acted shy and flustered by Steve's compliments, it would just make Steve that much more flustered, himself, and there would a downward spiral of excessive, happy awkwardness and they'd never get anything done.

Instead, he just laughs softly, doesn't encourage or contradict him, and gets up to get a dishtowel. "Many hands make light work. Let's do this."

It wasn't like there was much to clean- two people's worth of pancakes didn't make a terribly big amount of dishes. Easy enough for Loki to get started, soap, hot water, and setting the dishes to the side where Steve could get them once he cleaned them.

"I'll have to charm you into pancake duty more often." Teasingly flicking a few drops of water at Steve with a grin.

"Shouldn't be that hard to do," he says. Pancakes are a simple meal, and not much of a time investment for cleanup, either. Honestly, Loki could probably charm a lot more out of him, but if he hasn't figured that out already, Steve won't be the one to tell him.

"Hey!" He ducks the water, laughing, then scoops up a small handful of soap suds and tries to drop them on Loki's head.

Loki had his suspicions of how much he could convince Steve to do. But it spoke to how highly he held Steve's regard that he didn't press the issue, other than light teasing moments like this. Things where it was just light and silly, playful moments.

"Excuse you!" He yelped, skittering back from the suds, flicking wet hands Steve's way with a laugh.

Aaand suddenly it's a water-and-bubble fight. At least they waited until this point rather than flinging pancakes and syrup at one another. Steve holds his handful of suds close to his own face and blows into them hard, sending bits of soapy fluff everywhere.

"You started it, pal," he laughs. "I'm willing to finish it, if you're not!"

Steve is remarkably immature for a 98 year old, really.

Not like Loki much minds the immaturity- he's not really any better, as illustrated by scooping a handful of water and suds to dump over Steve's head in retaliation.

"I started with water not suds!" He sniffed, though the offended air was ruined by laughter.

Splash, flail! So much for drying dishes. Steve is quickly lost in laughter, himself, and even more so when his feet slip on the slick floor and he has to grab the counter for balance. The grace of a super-soldier, laties and gentlemen.

"Aah! Shit! Goddamn it, we just got dry a few minutes ago. Why did we do this?" He's almost teared up laughing, though. Which probably answers his question in itself.

Loki reached without thinking to help steady Steve when he slipped, unable to help continued laughing at the same time.

"Honestly Steve, you expect me to pass up a chance for mischief?" Even if the laughter and delight they were both taking from the moment were definitely what he was happier about here.

Steve gathers his feet under him, held up more by Loki than by his own grip on the counter. "I guess not. I kinda like the sound of your laugh, though."

What the hell. It's more familiar than he would normally be, but he puts his other arm around Loki's shoulders and leans a little, aware he can take his weight easily enough. "I think we're done here. You want to go back to bed?"

And then he snorts. "I'm going to go back to the Tower tomorrow and tell them I stayed the night because you got me wet twice." He smirks at Loki; the innuendo there is completely intentional. Even better, if he says it that way to the other Avengers, they likely won't know for sure whether he knows he's told them something that can be taken the wrong way.

Steve isn't above using peoples' assumption of his innocence for amusement.

Edited (because bad pun and it wouldn't leave my brain) 2017-07-11 13:18 (UTC)

"Yeah, bed sounds good." He didn't know if he'd sleep yet, but at the same time, snuggling up on Steve sounded just right.

And he couldn't help the small, amused sound of surprise when he moved his hand and noticed the big, wet handprint right across the front of Steve's shirt.

"Oops. Looks like we'll have to hang this up to dry too." Plucking lightly at the fabric, he didn't even sound remotely contrite. More amused than anything. "All wet and not even anywhere near the bedroom, my word Steve you are the adventurous sort."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject