Author's Note: there will be sex stuff, there will be swearing, there will be angst, there will be mpreg, and there will be blood. Enjoy if you're into that shit
"You cannot hide from me, boy. I will always find you, and you will die a slow and torturous death."
Loki's gaze followed the Stark Tower for the entirety of its length.
He gulped in the characteristically polluted air of New York City with distaste, cloaked himself in transparency, and snuck right in the front door.
This was the last place on Earth he wanted to hide, but it was the last place Thanos would expect, and thus he was safer there.
The security seemed tight; S.H.I.E.L.D agents milled about, and JARVIS spoke with a strawberry blonde woman in the lobby in a pencil skirt.
He slipped past them, rolling his eyes at comments about the 'ballsack-freezing' temperature Tony insisted on keeping to encourage the exchange of body heat.
He trekked up the many flights of stairs, careful to avoid physical contact with anyone on his way up, poking his head through the door every couple levels and looking for the Avengers' housing floor.
It turned out eventually that everyone had their own floor, which presented numerous choices for his temporary residence.
Tony's floor was nice if a bit lavish, but the bedroom was littered with strange metallic objects and thus too messy.
Loki didn't want to bunk with either Clint or Natasha; they might not have been gods, but an arrow through the eyeball wasn't worth it.
Bruce's room held promise, but it smelled suspiciously of cannabis and eukalyptus. Loki was just as susceptible to them, and more likely to reveal himself if Dr. Banner decided to light up.
Thor's room... he didn't want to run the risk of running into the boorish lout, so it was off-limits.
So he was left with the soldier, Captain America.
The man was hardly on his floor anyway, whether it be due to destroying punching bags or running around New York, or reporting to S.H.I.E.L.D about do-gooder nonsense.
So Loki hid in the corner of Steve's bedroom, content to nap for a time, visible in the dark corner until the owner returned.
Ultimately, he knew his magic couldn't sustain him forever, but he'd make the most of it until then.
Eventually, the Avenger returned (from a run, it seemed), his sweaty and muscular chest heaving.
Loki smirked from his transparent perch appreciatively, not even irate from having been woken up.
He'd been able to see how powerful the man was when they'd fought in Stuttgart, but then again Steve wasn't shirtless then, as he was quickly becoming.
He admired the perfectly proportioned and toned body silently in his corner, and watched with deepening interest as the capeless crusader slipped out of his pants, leaving him in navy blue boxers.
And, Odin be damned, the man had a manhood to be reckoned with.
Loki's throat dried and he swallowed harshly at the sight, even when it was concealed by blue cloth.
It was quite obvious that some of its immensity was left to the imagination, so Loki gaped incredulously at it.
He watched, enraptured as Steve disappeared, and emerged after showering for a time.
For some reason, the Avenger wore shame on his face, a blush spread across his neck and cheeks.
Loki continued to follow his movements, beginning to perspire ever so slightly and heat pooling in his groin.
Steve slunk across the bed like a panther, muscles gliding beneath his dew-dropped skin.
Then he slid from his boxers, and Loki felt his cock stir in its prison.
He seated himself, legs spread, and awkwardly began to stroke himself.
He was obviously a virgin, and probably found masturbation shameful.
It was almost painful for Loki to watch as Steve inelegantly and stiffly touched himself.
Loki was about to attempt to leave quietly, when mid-movement, Steve uttered a cry.
"Loki..."
No wonder he was ashamed; he had lusted after the very god who'd nearly razed New York to the ground.
With that, Loki took the cry as permission granted, flung his clothes to the floor, and vaulted onto the bed voraciously.
He slowly transitioned to visibility so as not to startle the man, and hovered above him, a lecherous and benevolent smile plastered across his face.
Steve appeared startled, but not afraid, and didn't call out, Odin bless him.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked, bemused.
"Yes."
Captain America appeared distressed. "I shouldn't want you," he breathed.
"I take it that the 40's weren't kind to homosexuals," Loki opined, snorting.
Steve grimaced a bit at that. "The ostracism was unsurvivable. But it isn't just that; you killed so many people."
"Relax. You're dreaming."
"I can't face my friends now, you know."
"Well, I am quite adamant that none should be denied their desires within reason," Loki bantered, gleeful that he could manipulate the spangled man into sharing his living space. "And besides, it's quite important that you don't deny yourself what your spirit needs."
"On Earth we say 'what the heart wants'."
"And on Asgard we have access to the galaxy and magic and we are far more advanced technologically."
"I'm not going to say Asgard is better."
"I didn't expect such treason from a patriot of Midgard."
Steve's cock was softening.
"I think we've spoken enough," Loki purred.
He raised an elegant hand to caress Steve's face.
"This feels real."
"It will feel real for a long time coming," the Asgardian promised.
Steve responded to his chilly touch with a soft moan.
Loki smiled, straddling him and leaning down to lap up sweat that had collected on his collarbone.
Captain America began to protest halfheartedly, but Loki cut him off. "Hush. This isn't the 40's, Steven. Allow me."