shieldborne | For magpiemythos

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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?

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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."

That's fine. If they just lie there together making bad innuendo at one another, that'll still be fun. Like a sleepover for grown-ups.

Steve looks down at his shirt, which is sticking to his chest a little now. He has, since his reemergence from the ice, heard of wet t-shirt contests, and isn't quite sure he gets the point. "You forgot 'reckless'" he tells Loki and then peels the shirt off, wringing it out over the sink carefully. "Guess I better hang this up too."

Oh Steve, he's starting to think you're just a good time all around. A good time who is absolutely the reason for wet t-shirt contests whether he realized or not.

"You mean that doesn't go without saying at this point?" Not that it was always a bad thing. He'd worry of course, as strong as Steve was he was still human, but here and now a little recklessness didn't hurt anything. It was part of the quintessential Steve Rogers charm after all, for all Loki was somewhat convinced it would leave him with grey hairs.

Not that he would admit that. That spoke to a level of caring that he had a hard time accepting he felt.

But for the moment that wasn't something he was concerned with, slipping in under his arm to tuck himself at his side with a content-sounding hum.

"Can do it on the way."

A lot of people think Steve looks like a good time, it's just few are willing to put in the effort it takes to get past his defenses. Sooner or later someone is going to get the bright idea of asking him to pose for a pin up calendar for charity or something, with or without a wet t-shirt. Actually, it's possible people have already contacted Tony's PR team for the Avengers, and been firmly rebuffed. Or asked to try back later.

Steve smiles at him and lets him slide in close, only to realize bare skin is more sensitive and shiver a little at the touch. He bites his lower lip, nodding sheepishly, and heads back down the hall. He doesn't see any reason to be too meticulous with the t-shirt, so he ends up just draping it over the side of the sink.

Loki is more surprised than anything that he'd somehow gotten past Steve's defenses. Not that he minded it in the least, finding the idea pleasing in equal measure. Not that this was surprising, Steve was ridiculously attractive even without taking into account his personality and playful sass.

He's also well aware of that little shiver lips quirking to a small pleased sort of smile as he deliberately nuzzled in a bit more securely, though clearly that wasn't on purpose it was just that he was so enjoying how close they were.

Which was true too.

Edited 2017-07-24 04:45 (UTC)

Steve doesn't say anything as they wander back to the bedroom, just tilting his head to give a light nuzzle to Loki's hair. He's acutely aware he's in nothing but his underwear right about now, and he's not 100% sure where this is going, but at the moment he doesn't feel like he needs to know in advance.

He pulls back the covers for Loki--or he tries to, anyway. There are a lot of layers of covers here, so many that he starts to look amused. "Just a little bit of a hedonist," he teases, and gives him a gentle shove as if to push him onto the bed.

"There's a mattress under here somewhere, right?"

If asked, Loki isn't entirely sure. He wants contact and closeness and affection but beyond that he can't say for sure how far he might push for those things or what shape they might take. As it was he let himself be pitched back onto the bed with a low laugh, settling in under the covers and catching Steve's hand with his to tug him in after. Time to get comfortable!

"Only a little?" Said with a grin and a raised brow. "Honestly Steve it's like you don't know me at all."

He was only teasing though, clear in the playful, easy tone he spoke with.

"Oof!" Steve doesn't try to resist the tug after him, but he does make an effort not to roll on him, laughing. Once he's down, he slides a little lower, so he's at about the same level across from him as he would be if they were standing on the ground. Just a couple inches shorter, compared to the godling.

"Uh-huh," he says, and slings an arm across his waist companionably. "I bet you don't even make your bed ever. Are you a bad influence on me, or am I a good influence on you?"

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