Disclaimer: The Avengers belongs to those people who created it, acted it and paid for the production of the movie. No money will be made from this story and no copy right infringement is intended. I only plan to borrow their characters for a while. Then they can have them back, a little worse for wear.
This story does not follow my other two. This is based on the movie verse and takes place a few months after the events in Manhattan. There will be SLASH. There will be violence and sexual abuse. I can't help myself. ;)
I fully intended to finish my other stories that I'm writing as my alter ego here on but this story just wouldn't leave me alone. If you would like me to continue, please review and let me know. I love writing and sharing but it is so much easier to do it when I know people are enjoying it. So PLEASE, review. If there's something you like, don't like or want to happen, let me know. I'm always open to suggestions.
Oh, now that I think about it, I guess this story is slightly UA is that I have Loki not responsible for the things that he did in the movie. So, be prepared. He's going to be OOC.
Enjoy!
Chapter One
He would never know what woke him up out of a deep sleep. All Agent Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, knew was that one moment he was sound asleep, completely oblivious to the world, and the next he was wide awake. Clint's eyes opened a slit as he took in every nook and cranny of his bedroom. It was exactly as he'd left it when he'd gone to bed. Everything was neat and organized. He hated living in a mess.
In the dark room it was kind of hard to see into every shadow but Clint was absolutely sure he was alone. Opening his eyes up the rest of the way, he sat up in bed, allowing the blankets to fall down around his waist as he took another inventory. His grey t-shirt and grey sweats were a little damp. He'd been having a nightmare. His breathing adjusted quickly as he finished looking around. Again everything was as it should be. Still, Clint was absolutely sure that something wasn't right. He continued to scan every inch of the room. Just as he was about to give up, something caught his eye.
The bedroom was large, larger than Clint had ever expected to have. The bed was large enough for two more people. The two night tables on either side contained a lamp each. One held a hard bound book. Otherwise they were completely devoid of decoration. The walls of the bedroom held showcases containing individual arrows and antique bows. At the foot of the king size bed was a wooden bench. Along the left hand wall was a four foot, five shelf wooden shelving unit. The opposite wall had a long, three drawer tall dresser. If anyone bothered to look in the twelve drawers they would find that only four of them were in use. Tony Stark, the building's architect and backer, really did like things too damned big.
Outside the bedroom door was the living room, a too big kitchen, a dining/den area and a too big bathroom. The rest of the apartment was Spartan in appearance. Clint didn't much like having 'things'. He kept his belongings down to a bare minimum in case he had to move quickly. If he bothered to think about it he would attribute this to his early life in the carnival. The need to travel light had been essential. In the living room Tony had insisted on having a 50 inch LED TV mounted on the wall with all the bells and whistles. Clint had yet to turn the damned thing on. He preferred his books, watching people out on the streets below Avengers Tower or doing just about anything else. The only room he felt even slightly comfortable was the bedroom. That was what set his nerves on edge, the fact that something or someone had invaded his one comfortable place.
In the far corner of the room a very dim blue light appeared. It took Clint a solid two seconds to notice it but then it began to brighten and enlarge. Shifting in the bed, the archer slowly, carefully slid off the side of his bed and padded silently towards the light. He knew he should call to Jarvis and get the computer to alert the other Avengers to the fact that something strange was going on. But, he really didn't look forward to the others trooping into his apartment in the middle of the night. Despite the fact that he'd allowed Director Fury to move him into Avengers Tower, Clint still really liked his privacy.
The blonde archer came within three feet of the light. It looked very much like a bright blue LED bulb burning in the corner of his bedroom just in front of his five shelf book case. He knew the names of the books by heart. Mostly things that applied to his current life but there were also some of the classics, obviously 'War and Peace' but also a few books of Russian poetry, German folklore and Greek tragedies. Ignoring the well worn books, Clint took one more step forward, scanning the light intently.
Just as Clint reached out a hand to touch the light it abruptly expanded, rapidly. Startled, the archer took a step back, followed by another as the light grew bigger. There was something about it that seemed familiar but at the moment he couldn't quite place it. No longer curious but moving towards alarm, Clint drew a breath to call out to Jarvis the AI that ran the entire building and served Tony Stark's every whim. Before he had a chance to say anything, the light grew large enough to envelope a man. Clint had to hold his hands up to protect his eyes. The light was bright enough to blind him otherwise.
The silence of Clint's bedroom was abruptly shattered by an ear splitting whine. Between the noise and the light, Clint was momentarily disorientated. In the nanoseconds it took him to adjust, the light vanished as did the sound. Lowering his hands, Clint blinked rapidly, trying to get his dazzled eyes to work again.
"I've missed you," an all too familiar voice purred from directly in front of Clint. Instinctually, he brought up his right hand, his fist connecting solidly with the face that was attached to that voice. His left fist jabbed forward and up, a move that should effectively knock the wind out of the person in front of him. As his eyes finally saw through the dark, Clint felt his stomach drop down around his ankles. Loki towered above him, that familiar smile twisting his mouth.
"How?" Clint managed as he back peddled, trying to put as much distance between himself and the demigod as he could manage. At the moment, his bedroom seemed too small as images he'd been struggling to squash since memories of his confinement with Loki had begun to emerge. The last time Loki, the god of mischief, had been on earth he'd used his sceptre to possess Agent Clint Barton. Using the blue power of the Tesseract, Loki used Barton against his will to supply Loki with key information in his quest to take over the world. It was both a curse and a blessing that Clint didn't remember much during the time of his possession. In the months since the attack in New York, however, memories had begun bleeding through, particularly at night.
For all intents and purposes, Loki should still be imprisoned on Asgaard by his brother, Thor. Thor had taken Loki and the powerful Tesseract back to their home planet after Clint and his fellow Avengers beat the god in his plans and saved a ravaged Manhattan from his tender mercies. At the time Clint had been hard pressed to not kill the bastard. He'd felt soiled, dirtied by what Loki had done to him. It was a form of rape, just not a physical kind. Now, with the man responsible for some of the darkest days in Clint's short, dark life standing in front of him, the emotions Clint had managed to ignore for so long came back with a vengeance. His legs went a little weak as he sank onto the edge of his bed.
"My brother doesn't have the attention span to keep me locked up indefinitely," Loki said as he slowly, gracefully, covered the distance between them. Even in the darkness Clint could see a hunger burning in the god's eyes that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. Looking into those depths, Clint felt very small, very young. "Besides, memories of you burned through me. I couldn't stand to be away from you any longer."
"What are you talking about?" Clint demanded. Every memory he had included him killing fellow agents, doing things that made his skin crawl but there was never anything untoward going on between him and the god. There had been absolutely no sexual undertones to anything the last time Clint had seen Loki. Now, however, Clint knew intuitively that his body was in danger at a whole other level than he'd ever considered before. Well, not since he was big enough to protect himself that is.
"Ah, Hawkeye, I've had many an hour to spend remembering our time together. Now that I am no longer intent on taking over your puny planet, my mind has turned to other considerations," Loki said. He was tall, just like Thor, and too damned strong. Clint pushed off the bed as the man drew closer and threw his body feet first at the god's mid section. Any normal man would have been knocked four feet backward and had one or more ribs cracked at the very least. Loki, however, laughed as he caught hold of Clint's right foot and twisted it absently. Clint was thrown face first into the too thick carpet Tony had had installed in his room. At the moment he was grateful for it because it absorbed a good deal of the impact.
Loki still had hold of Clint's leg. Using a minimal amount of strength, he picked the smaller man up and threw him four feet away straight into the far wall. The impact was hard enough that Clint left a centimetre and a half impression in the wall as his breath was forced out of his body and he slowly slid to the ground. Chuckling, Loki padded over to Clint as the archer tried to force his protesting body off the floor. In a matter of seconds Clint was off the ground and turning to face his attacker. It wasn't fast enough though, the god was there. Still chuckling, he stepped forward. Involuntarily, Clint took a step back. The malice oozing out of the god scared the crap out of him. It had been a very long time since Clint had felt anything like this level of fear. It was distracting. It kept him from staying focused in the here and now.
It was the only reason why Loki was able to take another step forward. Clint was distinctly aware of the man's body as he leaned forward pressing Clint back up against the wall as Loki expertly slid a knee up between Clint's legs. An instant later, Clint's arms were pressed against the wall above his head by one of Loki's hands. The other hand came out and lightly stroked the fabric of Clint's shirt over his right side. Gritting his teeth, Clint struggled desperately against the too strong body. He had nowhere to go. It was as if he was no more than a new born child in the man's arms.
"Get away from me," Clint grated as he continued to struggle. Loki was leaning closer. He could feel the heat rolling off the god in waves and could smell the faint scent of spices on his breath. Refusing to turn his head away, Clint growled deep in his throat as he glared at Loki straight in the face. "I'm not under your power this time."
"Yes, I know," Loki said as he moved his face up beside Clint's cheek and took a long whiff of his hair. Clint struggled with everything he had. The god ignored him completely as his right hand came around between them and slowly ran his cold fingers towards the waist band of Clint's sweats. "This will be so much more fun."
LOKILOKILOKI
In the very back of Loki's mind, Loki railed against the cage he had spent far too much time in. He didn't want to hurt the human. He remembered Clint from his last trip to earth. He had heard the thoughts in his body's mind while he'd watched the blonde human go about his duties. The man was beautiful in so many ways. If Loki's preferences had angled towards men he might have enjoyed what his body was planning on doing. But, he wasn't interested in men. He had no desire to touch the human much less caress his skin as his body was doing. He still had enough connection with his body to feel the human's muscles trembling under his touch. It was minorly intoxicating to Loki. There was a certain amount of power to be drawn by the fear of others.
Loki had no idea how long he'd spent in his mental prison. He wasn't even sure when the other had taken control from him. It was infuriating to know that someone or something had taken over his body and he'd had no ability to stop it. He knew it was shortly after he'd met with the leader of the Chitauri, the Other. He guessed that was why he thought of the thing controlling his body as the other. He knew intuitively that his being controlled had something to do with the Other and the power of the Tesseract. He wished with all his being that he had never found the damned Chitauri or the Other. Now, he was forced to watch through his own blue eyes as his body did things. He knew there was more to it than just someone controlling his body. There was a consciousness involved too. He could hear the other's thoughts as they happened as if they were a conversation he was having with himself. The only problem was that it was a one sided conversation. He could hear the other but the other couldn't hear him.
At the moment, Loki felt his skin crawl as the other pressed harder against Clint. The other pushed his hand up under Clint's t-shirt and felt the smooth skin that covered his well toned abdomen. Under his hand, Clint continued to struggle furiously but there was really nothing he could do. He was simply human after all while Loki was a god. Loki heard Clint moan quietly but it wasn't in lust. Loki had heard that sound before. It was the unconscious result of a combination of despair and disgust. The other pushed his knee a little higher into Clint's crotch, lifting the human a few inches off the ground. The moan Loki heard then came from his own body as the other revelled in the sensation of the human's body.
'Thor. Why aren't you following me now?' Loki thought with despair was he tried to crawl a little further into the back of his mind in an attempt to get away from the sights, sounds and sensations of what the other was doing to Clint. It didn't help. Huddling in the dark, Loki turned his mind away from the images coming through his eyes and began to hum an Asgardian lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he couldn't sleep. It helped.
LOKILOKILOKI
"Agent Barton, are you all right?" The voice came from somewhere above Loki's head. Clint knew it was Jarvis because he'd heard the voice several times before. Why the AI was unaware of Loki's presence was a mystery to him as was the manner of the god's appearance. Right now, though, Clint nearly got a word out before Loki's forearm came down across his throat, blocking all air and destroying his ability to make a sound.
The horrible vision of Loki's twisted face rapidly began to fade as the lack of oxygen affected Clint's mind and body. He knew he was passing out. He knew he should let Jarvis know he was in trouble. He knew he had to keep fighting with every ounce of strength he had. He knew all these things but as the world turned from black to red, Clint couldn't quite bring himself to care. Then the world went black again as consciousness disappeared.
Loki felt the smaller human's body go slack. Smiling, he released the pressure on Clint's neck and enjoyed the sensation of his body trying desperately to suck breath back into his lungs. Above him the disembodied voice continued to speak. Loki knew he was running out of time. The other humans would become aware of his presence in the structure very soon. He could only keep his presence masked for so long before it would exhaust him. Letting go of Clint's wrists, Loki let the archer's arms fall lifelessly to his sides. Now that his hands were free, Loki gently picked Clint's limp body up and laid him out on his bed. The man's attire wasn't appropriate for what he had planned.
Moving quickly around the room, Loki located what he wanted and proceeded to strip the still unconscious man. He revelled in the man's beauty especially while naked. If he wasn't in such a hurry, he might spend a little more time exploring his new pet. Now, however, he pulled fresh clothes up over his limbs until he had Clint in his uniform. There was something about the human in his black clothes that really spoke to Loki. Smiling, he sat on the edge of the bed. It was time to wait until Clint came around. Having nothing better to do, Loki reached over and ran his hand through the man's short, blonde hair. Clint was going to be worth every minute of waiting, of that Loki/the other was absolutely sure.