Disclaimer: Marvel owns the Avengers characters.
A/N: Okay so. I know that this might be a wee bit (a lot bit) out of character for Loki, but just go with me on this one, 'kay? I wanted to explore a softer side of Loki, and even of Natasha. So if you don't like this because it's "out of character" well too bad, because I wanted to write it like this.
"You have beautiful skin," Loki whispered as his fingers traveled along Natasha's body. Their bodies lay parallel to each other, legs wrapped in sheets, knees and thighs touching.
His hand stopped when he reached a bruise on her ribcage just under her breast. It was then that he began to notice them—the bruises and scars. Some of the scars were clearly from surgeries, perhaps to fix broken bones. Others were obviously from cuts and scrapes, jagged like serrated knife edges, thin like quick little slashes. His fingers hovered above an inch long scar above her hips.
Natasha had been watching him silently until now. "Not so beautiful after all, I guess," she murmured, looking ashamed.
Loki glanced up at her, shooting her a scolding look as if to say don't kid yourself. He quickly reverted his attention back to her scars. They fascinated him. Tiny bits of puckered skin whiter than her already pale complexion, raised slightly above the surrounding flesh. He pressed his lips to each one he saw along her abdomen; one on her hip, one on her side reaching toward her back, one just above her breast by her collarbone.
"I think they're amazing," he said into her neck, his warm breath sending chills through her body.
She sighed. "They show how fragile I am. How I could break at any moment." He looked up at her, eyebrows knotted in slight frustration. "Unlike you. Your body is perfect."
He cupped her face in his hand and gently shushed her. "Actually, it's the exact opposite of that."
Natasha scoffed, but Loki continued. "They show how strong you are, not how weak. If you were truly weak, you would have broken. But you didn't break. You didn't die. You are stronger than those who try to hurt you, and your scars are evidence of your power."
A smile crept up at the corners of Natasha's lips. "You think so?" Loki nodded. But still, Natasha insisted they were not something to be admired. "I wish my skin were flawless. Like yours."
It was Loki's turn to scoff.
"You think having a spotless body is something to be proud of? I have nothing to show for what I've been through. I am capable of injury, but any trace left by a fight soon disappears. I yearn for battle scars. I want proof that I survived."
Natasha observed his chest, still feeling envious of his flawless skin. But she could understand why Loki was fascinated with her body and so frustrated with his own. They were warriors, and she looked more like a warrior than he did. His godly skin forbid him from showing any signs of vulnerability, whereas her mortal skin would always latch on to flaws and imperfections for as long as she lived.
She reached her hand out to touch his chest. "Scars or no scars, I think you are perfect the way you are."
Their eyes met as Natasha nuzzled his nose with her own. Loki smiled as his lips met hers, and he pulled her body closer to his. When their mouths parted, Natasha could barely hear him as the words traveled on his breath into the air. "You too."