Hi! Welcome to my first published story! Warning: major Infinity War spoilers ahead! I wasn't very descriptive in the summary because I don't want to spoil the movie for anyone, even though it's been over a month since it came out. This story is about what happens after the death of Loki, specifically his relationship with Dr. Strange. Beware! This story contains M/M slash, so if that isn't your thing, you don't have to read it. For the purposes of this story, as this is in Loki's POV and I don't want to offend anyone, I will refer to their locations as the Asgardian (Norse mythology) versions of the afterlife, which are Valhalla and Hel. On another note, this was edited by my amazing friend Kenobi1, who posts on both FanFiction and AO3, so go check out her stories! We do everything from reading to editing to co-writing stories, so you should go read her stuff – I helped write some of it. I think, for me, this is a good kickstarter to Pride Month, but expect to see more soon. Sorry for the really long A/N, and enjoy! Happy Pride Month!

Loki has only been there for two days, but he has already decided that his favorite spot is the entryway. And by 'there' he means Hel. Honestly, he isn't really surprised. There was absolutely no way that he would get into Valhalla with all of the terrible things he had done. The bit that had surprised him the most had been being greeted at the gates by his dear sister. When he had told her he thought she was dead, she had grinned at him predatorily.

"I am, brother. But I am the goddess of death, and my demise only solidified my rule over this gruesome land." She had purred. Then she had left, notifying him that since she was queen, that made him a prince and he was always welcome in her palace. He left to track down his current spot. Loki had only been there for two days, but he hadn't moved since.

The layout of Valhalla and Hel is, to say the least, surprising to Loki. The trip to the afterlife starts as one long road, and splits in two right before the entrances to either place. Once inside, there is a large glass-like barrier separating the realms, which means that Loki can sit next to the barrier and clearly see all souls coming into both Valhalla and Hel. He had molded himself a somewhat comfortable chair out of dirt immediately after his arrival, and had sat perched there ever since in boredom. At one point Gamora had come through, briefly telling him about Thanos' pursuit for the Soul Stone, but then she had left to find her mother.

Now Loki sits in his dirt chair, watching the entrance to Valhalla through the barrier. Suddenly, the amount of people entering the blessed realm increases tenfold, almost knocking over the armored guards. Loki sits up straight. The dramatic increase in people can only mean that Thanos has completed his goal. His eyes flick towards the gates of Hel, and sees that the traffic has increased there as well, though it is still significantly less than Valhalla. As Loki shifts his gaze back to the realm of Balder, he can pick out a few familiar faces, including Nick Fury. Somehow Loki isn't very sad about that one.

Not long after the overflow starts, a familiar flash of blue and red stumbles out of the throng of people. A much too familiar flash of blue and red.

No no no no no! Loki jumps up, slightly panicked. It can't be! He can't be dead!

"Stephen!" He calls through the barrier, hands pressed against the invisible wall. The man in question looks up, spots the god, and rushes over.

"Loki! I didn't know you - I didn't expect - I haven't seen you in ages!" He stammers, tripping over his words worriedly.

"Stephen, calm down." Loki responds, more calm than before. "I didn't expect to see you here. You don't deserve it." He pauses, frowning. "I thought you had the time stone. What happened?"

"I went forward in time, and saw all possible outcomes for the war with Thanos." Stephen explains. "There was only one that we won, and it relied on Tony Stark. Thanos almost killed him during our fight. I was able to bargain for his life, but I had to give up the time stone. Thanos used the space stone to teleport away from us, and the next thing I know I'm watching the Avengers disintegrate, which means he acquired all the stones. I watched myself disintegrate too." He ends softly.

Loki opens his mouth to reassure the doctor when his disheartened expression shifts into a hopeful one. "I messed with the time stone before I gave it to Thanos though," he informs the god. "If all goes to plan, the Avengers should be able to reverse the effects of the stones. Everyone killed by them will live again, and then when this is all over we can spend my lifetime together, just us. You'll obviously live longer than that, but then maybe you can do some good, so you can join me over here. How does that sound, Lokes?" He looks so hopeful it almost breaks Loki's heart.

Loki frowns. He wants to agree, wants so badly to say it sounds fine, but he can't. For once in his life the god of lies has to tell the truth. "Steph," he starts, looking up into the sorcerer's radiant eyes. "I can't. Your plan is brilliant, and it sounds wonderful, except-" he folds down his collar to reveal his purple neck. "I've been here for two days. I wasn't disintegrated by the stones. Thanos personally strangled me." He pauses, gaze shifting to the ground before back up at Stephen. "Even if you reverse the effects of the stones, I'm not going back." He states the horrible truth. He can see Stephen's heart crack behind his eyes as the truth hits him. They will never be able to touch again, just talk from opposite sides of a barrier. Their fate seems almost worse than total separation.

After a second of silence, a shadow flickers over Stephen's face. "No." Loki responds hurriedly, before Stephen can even suggest anything. "No. Don't. I know that look, and if you go back you're going to try to get to Hel." Stephen doesn't speak, which means he doesn't deny it. "Stephen, you are actually a decent human being. I don't want you to ruin that just for me. Please promise you won't." After a moment of prodding, the doctor does. With nothing else pressing to talk about, they sit across from each other. Loki's heart burns, he wants so bad to reach out and hug Stephen, to hold him and tell him that everything will work out. But he can't.

They carry a swift yet heartfelt conversation. Eventually, their backs start to hurt so they fashion new chairs to sit in. It would be easier to lean back to back against the barrier, but Loki knows he is about to lose Stephen for a long time and he doesn't want to take his eyes off him. The god studies every detail of his partner in crime: the quirk of his eyebrow when he smiles, the fidgeting of his foot when too much silence passes between them, the way he rubs his limp cloak between his fingers, missing the sentient one. Loki isn't sure how much time they spend, so together but so apart. Finally, Stephen stands up and takes the few steps to the barrier. The god swiftly copies him, and they match their hands on opposite sides of the wall, staring at each other.

"I can feel it, Lokes. I'm going to go back soon." He informs the god. His tone is low but quiet, giving away his grief.

Loki bites his lip harshly to choke away his own emotions. He has a million things he wants to say, to promise, to tease. I'll see you soon, stay strong, you can do it, remember to brush your teeth. Instead he opts for the simple yet all encompassing "I love you."

"I love you too, Lokes. Don't replace me while I'm gone, okay?" He jokes. Then his breath hitches in his throat. He glances down at his palm, and Loki follows his gaze. His hand is falling apart, bit by bit, disintegrating into ash. Stephen's bright green irises meet Loki's one last time before he is fully gone. The trickster turns around, sinking to the ground with his back against the barrier, head staring up into the murky purple sky. He lets out a moan of grief, lips pulled back, eyes squeezed shut. The god thinks, no, guarantees he feels something wet slip down his cheeks.

He stays there for longer than is good for him.

Seeing Stephen has sent Loki into a stupor. Even before his death, the two had been separated for a while because of their different missions, but both had assumed that they would see the other again. Death had thrown Loki into a kind of daze, and the dilemma of Stephen hadn't presented itself in his mind until he saw him. The striking memories of Stephen's alluring and enigmatic eyes, of his smooth voice and his sharp jaw had faded in his mind, making the separation easier to bear. The renewed image in his brain only heightens the emotions accompanied with the loss, and serves as a painful reminder of the sacrifice.

Eventually the memories dull, as all memories do, and Loki is able to build himself a slightly more permanent residence in the same spot. He has a roof, at least, and although it is far from comfortable, Loki has a smooth place to sleep. He doesn't need it, of course, since he is dead, but he doesn't have much else to do. What he guesses are days blur into years, and Loki stays at his little shack. Bit by bit, he learns the layout of Hel, never exploring for too long because of a fear that he might miss Stephen walk through the gates.

One day starts out just as any other, but proves particularly painful to Loki. He is sitting in the dirt, watching the flow of people enter Valhalla, when a familiar Asian sorcerer strides through. Loki jumps up and runs to the boundary, eager for any insight on his soulmate.

"Wong!" He shouts, successfully drawing the man's attention. "How is he?"

"Faring well," comes the reply. The sorcerer already knew who Loki was talking about. "And by that I mean he's alive and takes care of himself. He's harsher than before, and has less patience. Losing you impacted him negatively, Loki."

Loki exhales sharply, resting his forehead and fists on the barrier. "Thank you," he replies after a moment. He pushes himself off the barricade, his back to Wong, and strides into his house. The news has brought a surplus of buried emotions to the surface. He is frustrated at Stephen for letting his death affect him and regretful that it had such an impact on the sorcerer, but a tiny part of him thrives knowing that he wasn't just a worthless marionette to another puppeteer.

After that, hours bleed into months again. Loki has no purpose, no inspiration, and no motivation. He is a shell of his living self, as most people on either side of the barrier are. He spends his time waiting for the day that Stephen finally arrives.

Ultimately, the moment arrives. Loki is laying with his back to the barrier when he hears a low voice. "Lokes?" It whispers. Only one person ever calls Loki that, and he sits up so fast he becomes dizzy. On the other side of the invisible wall stands Stephen Strange, the one and only. The liesmith hurries to the boundary, eyes meeting his partner's for the first time in decades. A rush of unfamiliar emotions swell to cloud Loki's senses, and he almost starts crying right then. Although he is glad to see him, Stephen is a fresh reminder that he will never again get to embrace the one thing he holds dear.

The two men stand in silence for what could be argued as longer than necessary, but to them it is vital. When Stephen finally breaks the silence, it is only to form three crucial words. "I love you."

That is enough to break Loki. He slams his fists on the obstacle at about his head height, taking a step back and letting his head fall between his arms. Tears well up in his eyes, which are jammed shut, teeth bared in his pain. When he finally glances up at Stephen, he whispers his words, voice hoarse. "I love you too, Steph. More than anything." His voice cracks on the last syllable. "And it hurts so bad."

"I know." Stephen responds softly. His distressed eyes are the only thing Loki can see through his tears. And suddenly he has to get to Stephen. Rivers of salt spill down his cheeks, and he pounds his fists fruitlessly on the boundary. Stephen shakes his head softly, though his expression displays the same emotions that tear through Loki's chest, crippling his heart and mauling his soul. Neither can do anything about the barrier, though, and they end up both sinking to the ground in despair.

"Do you think they would let us see each other if we asked?" Stephen breaks the silence.

"Who?"

"God? Allah? Whoever runs heaven? WI was an atheist." Stephen replied, blushing slightly, though the color in his cheeks could have been from his silent tears.

"The ruler of your realm, which is called Valhalla, is Balder. Your human religions are all based on guessing." Loki informs his partner, blinking to clear his vision. "But it's worth a shot. He is a very generous being. Try telling him that you aren't happy in Valhalla, and he'll probably want to fix that."

Stephen nods. "Then I have a god to find." However, he doesn't leave. Neither of them do. Loki knows he should tell Stephen to go, but he can't. Letting him out of his sight would only inflame the constant pain, and Loki definitely doesn't want to do that. After a minute, an unspoken agreement is reached, and they both tear their eyes off of the other. To Loki, it feels like his gaze is literally ripped from Stephen, and it is all he can do not to call out for him to come back. Loki bites his lip and stays silent, however, because if he calls Stephen back then neither will ever move again, and they have to try this idea.

Instead of mourning, Loki puts himself up to another task. Balder is not the ruler of all of the afterlife, and even if he agrees to Stephen's pleas, he alone would not have the power to do anything about it. Loki has to convince Hela of the same thing.

Loki begs his sister. He hates to admit it even to himself, and he will never reveal it to Stephen, but Loki actually begs with his sister. She finds the scene extremely entertaining, but she points out that Loki is in the realm of punishment, and there to be punished. Balder has fully sided with Stephen, however, so the two deities come to an agreement.

Five minutes. Loki and Stephen will get five minutes alone inside a big metallic box. After that, they go back to their respective realms forever. That is the deal. Both Stephen and Loki agree immediately. Five minutes is better than nothing.

The time comes, and Loki is led to a large metal door. Nervousness overtakes him, and he is sure that his heart would be pounding if he was still alive. He shakes his head, tells himself to calm down. Of course, it doesn't work.

"Five minutes," grunts a Hel guard, and the door slides open.

Loki is met with a bare room, maybe fifteen square feet. The walls, ceiling, and floor are gray, and there is nothing in the room. Loki barely notices this, however, because another door, identical to his own, slides open across the small room.

In the doorway stands Stephen Strange. The ghost of his cloak hangs from his proud shoulders. The Cloak of Levitation hadn't died with the sorcerer, so the clone is limp in its place. The brilliant blue tunic that Loki has grown so accustomed to accents the green rims of his lover's eyes. Stephen blinks a few times in wonder and the god of mischief instinctively smiles. Time seems to slow and he is thankful. He can see the Midgardian in perfect detail. His reckless wisps of hair tickling his tanned forehead. His flushed cheeks that soften the harsh lines his cheekbones form. His fingers, which no longer trembled behind the guise of swirling scars twisting and swerving across the canvas of the doctor's graceful digits. Stephen smiles softly, and Loki's throat constricts at the sight of him. His heart stutters uselessly under the gaze of his timeless lover.

As if a spell is broken, the two men rush at each other, meeting to fold into a frantic embrace. Their two bodies seem to fit perfectly together, and Loki blinks furiously to keep his vision from blurring. His nose is filled with the scent of Stephen. The sorcerer smells of old books mixed with a slight smoky aroma, and a hint of cinnamon, which the man preferred in his tea. To Loki, it is perfect, and he isn't sure if he sighs softly as he melts into the hug. He doesn't care.

After a moment, Stephen gently detaches himself from Loki, hands wrapped around the trickster's wrists. They are at arms reach for a second, but then they make eye contact. Their bodies slam back together, this time in a kiss. Loki's left hand wraps around the doctor's neck, keeping him close, the other resting on his waist. He can feel Stephen's nimble fingers lacing through his hair, latching on to him with no intent of letting go. Stephen's mouth opens and Loki takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into the other man's mouth. Stephen exhales sharply, and a thrill shoots down Loki's spine knowing that after decades of separation, he can still make Stephen sigh.

Their kiss is sloppy, uncoordinated. There is no lust in their movements, just a powerful and overwhelming desperation. A need to touch, to feel. To remember.

There is a slight pause, like the catch of a breath. Neither side pulls away but they both stop actively kissing the other, their lips simply resting together. Loki's erratic heartbeat slows slightly, and he has time to wonder why it's going so wild. It's not like it's the first time he's kissed Stephen Strange, not even close. Before he can reach a conclusion, however, Stephen shoves his lips back against the liar's, and the pause is broken as he folds into the kiss.

This kiss is slower, but still laced with desperation. Where the first contained only a need for physical contact, this one possesses cautious gratification. The contact is slow enough that Loki's mind, which is working in overdrive, notices things that it missed through the first kiss. Stephen's hands wind their way through the god's midnight locks, gentle enough so as not to hurt him but rough enough to send chills down his spine. His lips taste exactly the same as they did the last time he kissed them, like cinnamon tea and something utterly Stephen that Loki has never been able to identify. The sorcerer's short black hair tickles the palm of the Asgardian's hand, as silky as ever. Loki hums softly into the kiss, almost content for the first time in ages. But nothing good ever lasts.

"Time's up, lover boy!" The door to the room bursts open, banging against the wall. Loki breaks his and Stephen's kiss to confront his sister. "Come on, baby bro. We had a deal." She steps aside, gesturing to the door. The trickster feels the too-familiar feeling of desperation rise up in his stomach, and he turns to fully embrace his lover. Stephen returns the hug, both resting their chin on the other's shoulder.

"I love you, Lokes," the doctor whispers, and the liar's breath catches. He does not want to leave this man, ever.

"I love you too," he mumbles, face buried in the sorcerer's shoulder. Then he pulls back, presses his lips firmly against Stephen's one last time, and turns to step through the opening.

Tears blur his vision as the door slams shut.

"Wow, baby bro," Hela starts speaking, not giving Loki any time to process what had happened. "I didn't know you'd kiss him for all five minutes!"

Loki does not respond.

"Fine, maybe you genuinely like him." She continues. "Doesn't mean I can let you back to him. This is Hel, you aren't supposed to be happy here. You did something in your life to deserve it."

"But he didn't!" The god of mischief bursts out.

"Well then, I guess he's also atoning for your life, huh?" She raises an eyebrow, then walks away.

When Loki returns to his little hut, his partner is already there. The god sprints to the barrier, slamming his fists on it, fresh tears springing from his eyes.

"Dang it, Stephen!" he cries, salty drops staining the ground. "I did this to you!" He sinks to the ground, shaking slightly. "I'm sorry."

The doctor sits down as well. "This is not your fault. It's just what happened, there's nothing we can do about it. And besides, it's not so bad."

Loki lifts his head in confusion, eyes meeting those of his beloved.

"I get to look at you."

The trickster can't help but smile a bit through the tears. And hours, or maybe even days later, as they sit back to back, he speculates. He realizes that it was probably foolish to hope for the best. The world was a cruel and unforgiving place, so of course the afterlife is too. He knows that he will never be able to hold his lover again, to comb his hair away from his face or wipe his tears. But why should he expect to?

After all, there is no such thing as a happy ending.

Well, I mean he's right. All good things must come to an end. I don't have much to say here, so I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please favorite, follow, or review! It means a lot when I see them, and I know people enjoy my writing, so one would be really appreciated! Once again, go check out Kenobi1's stories, they're great! And if you enjoyed this, she's got more Stroki (Stephen x Loki) stories on her page. Bye guys!

~April