Author's Note: As I told a friend recently, "I'm 35000 words into a verse that wasn't supposed to exist for a ship I never thought I'd write and there is still no snogging in sight." …well, now, as we pass the 45000 word mark, there is.
Confession! That this was always going to be Steve/Loki. I knew that. I just had to figure out how to get them there. And then I got them there, and then I promptly turned around and fucked with it. Because that's just what I do.
There will be at least one more installment of this verse, for sure, coming sometime in the near future. Thank you to all of you who've been following me on this wild ride through me losing control of my life; I hope you stick with me a little longer.
Once again, with thanks to zaataronpita, the Steve to my Loki (with all that entails).
The fight with Doom was rough and ugly – when weren't their fights – but they were ready for it. Damage remained contained, the ambush failed to catch them unawares, and they all came out of it in one piece.
If they hadn't known the attack was coming, Steve caught himself thinking, if they'd been caught off-guard as planned…
He half waited, after, for Loki to come. The attack had been on the news, and Loki would likely know regardless – however he knew things like that – but there was only thorough silence for the month after. Nothing. Tony fielded Fury's demands for where they'd gotten the intel. Thor watched him with a worried expression, and opened his mouth sometimes as if to say something, but never quite did. Steve tried to resign himself to what he suspected might be a permanent silence.
It wasn't.
Loki was sprawled casually in one of the chairs of the one of the many living rooms when Steve wandered in with a vague notion of watching an old film by himself. Tony had joined him once, but Steve had only ended up snapping at him for snarking at the screen through the whole thing, and they mutually concluded it was best for Tower peace if Tony stayed out of Steve's occasional forays into nostalgia.
Right now, however, Loki looked perfectly at ease, and smiled at Steve when he stopped dead in the doorway, a smile with just a few too many teeth.
"Good afternoon, Captain," he said, smoothly, as though this were nothing out of the ordinary at all, and with all the perfect nonchalance that refused to acknowledge any past confrontations. Steve held in the urge to sigh from exasperation.
The chief emotion Steve found that he felt, though, was relief. That Loki was alive, unharmed, and it wasn't until he felt it that he realized there'd been a quiet dread in his chest that Loki had been found out and killed, or worse. That in taking a risk and warning them, he would have condemned himself and all the progress Steve couldn't help but think he'd made would just be…gone.
On the other hand… "What are you doing?" he asked, though more tiredly than with any real rancor. "Everyone's here, in the tower-"
"And otherwise occupied," Loki broke in. "I do not expect we shall have any interruptions."
Steve rubbed his forehead. "I thought we were going to meet normally. Not…this."
"Were we? Ah, must have slipped my mind." Loki's smile was too wide and entirely disingenuous. "My most sincere apologies." Steve half opened his mouth, decided it wasn't worth it, and closed it. "You will be pleased to know," Loki went on, "that Doom suspects nothing, that I have managed to maintain my…working relationship…with him, and that I thoroughly enjoyed the little fit he threw after you routed his attack."
Steve sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm not exactly pleased you're still…associating with Doom."
Loki's eyebrows arched. "No? You have a potential source of information on his nefarious plans, I am not imposing on your hospitality, and I keep my fragile alliance. It seems to me everybody wins."
"I don't need to tell you that if Doom finds out-"
Loki's eyes glittered oddly. "He won't." Steve wondered how he could be so sure, and then just as quickly wondered if he wasn't. And that was the thing, wasn't it? He'd never know when Loki was telling the truth and when he wasn't. All he had were best guesses.
"And besides," Steve added, "I just don't like it."
"Worried he'll be a bad influence?" The tilt of Loki's mouth was unmistakably mocking. Steve decided to ignore it and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Maybe," he said, solidly. He was momentarily tempted to add and I'm worried that you'll get yourself into trouble you can't get out of but felt self conscious even thinking it. It was Natasha's words he thought of, suddenly – this isn't just a moral crusade for you, is it. Of course, he still wasn't sure what it was. Loki's expression flickered, though barely.
"I don't think you need worry about that," Loki said, his tone just the same. "If I – ah – lapse into my wicked ways - it shall be solely by my own choice."
"Do you think you're going to?" Steve asked bluntly. Loki's eyebrows quirked.
"How do you expect me to answer that question?" He adopted an expression of pious innocence. "No, Captain, of course not – I will swear it by all that is good and true in the nine realms, that from this day forth I shall be a pillar of virtue. Ha!" His eyes glittered, mocking again as he let his head fall back across the arm of the chair so Steve could just see his pale throat stretched out bare. Sprawled like that, limbs loose and eyes half closed, he looked…
Steve found himself suddenly self-conscious. "It was a serious question," he protested. "I want to know if you think you'll…decide to start causing trouble again."
"I don't know," Loki said, airily. Steve frowned.
"You don't know? How can you not know what you'll do?"
"I cannot predict the future." Loki sat up again, propped on his elbows, his smile almost apologetic. "I cannot say what may happen."
Steve hesitated, but then he crossed the room and sat down on the couch, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You can decide what'll happen," he said, with a firmness that slightly surprised even him. "You can make up your mind that you're going to do or not do something. You can decide that you're not going to 'lapse' and then not do it."
Loki glanced sidelong at him, eyebrows arching slightly. "Can I?" he said, with a curious kind of dryness that made Steve frown.
"Is that a serious – of course you can." Loki laughed, suddenly, but it wasn't a cheerful sound.
"You assume, then, that I have free will."
Steve blinked. "Of course you do."
"Or else you simply wish to believe that you do." Loki half closed his eyes, and his voice had lost some of its good humor. "Is it not possible, Captain, that we are all set on our paths, fate laid out long before we are born, and all we can do is act within the bounds set for us?" Loki's mouth quirked. "You see – you are the hero. I may act virtuously for a time, but eventually…"
"I've told you before," Steve said, not quite sharply. "I don't buy that. No one's born evil. Made that way, maybe, but even then-"
"Made that way, you acknowledge?" Loki swooped onto his words like a hawk spotting movement in tall grass. "So perhaps fate can shape a thing into what it needs?"
"I don't get why you're so hellbent on convincing me you're evil," Steve said suddenly, a little too loudly, "when you're the one who keeps acting like you're not. And if you're not evil, then you have a choice in what you do, and so you have a choice to not do – bad things. Right?"
Loki's expression was briefly startled, taken aback. "I merely do not want you to be able to say I did not warn you," he said, after a long moment of silence, voice light, but there was something strange to his expression, that look again like he was trying to puzzle Steve out and finding him wholly unfathomable. "And I certainly do not wish you to forget what I am."
"Who," Steve corrected, and Loki stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
"Who you are. You're not a-" Steve gestured, vaguely. "-a what." Loki stared at him a little more, and then broke his gaze, flipped a hand dismissively.
"A turn of phrase, no more. It hardly matters."
"Does it?" Burst out of Steve, and Loki swung his legs from the arm of the chair so he was sitting properly upright, the line of his spine stiffening. "I just mean to say – I wonder, if you're making excuses why you can't do better, or if you really think it's true, or if you're trying to – scare me away, or something."
Loki laughed incredulously, but Steve watched his eyes, thought he caught a flicker of more real nervousness there. "Don't be absurd. If I wanted you scared away, as you put it, it would hardly be much of a difficulty to do so."
"Maybe that's it, though, maybe you don't want…" Steve could see the tension rising in Loki's body, found he could almost sense that snappish mood that seemed to be provoked by prodding too hard at things Loki didn't wish to admit – to himself or to Steve, he couldn't say for sure. "But anyway, besides," he added, because of that, "I just don't like it. When you…when anybody talks about themselves like that."
Loki's eyes on him were wary, watchful, like he was expecting some kind of attack. Steve wondered if he was. He was quiet for a long few moments, and then said, almost without inflection, "If it troubles you, then. I will attempt to remember to refrain."
"Thank you," Steve said politely, but the wariness didn't ease. A few moment's later, however, they flickered, and changed again. Loki's smile was easy, casually curious.
"Tell me, Steve Rogers, are you – how does the phrase go? Seeing anyone?"
"Am I – what?" Steve stared, slightly incredulous. "I don't – why are you asking?"
"I am, as ever, endlessly curious about your personal life, my Captain. What you do with your time, how you occupy yourself when you are not playing the martyr-"
"I don't play the martyr," Steve said, and shifted, feeling oddly uncomfortable. "You realize that question sounds a lot like…"
"I am seeking your weaknesses, the best places at which to strike to make you emotionally vulnerable, who might be targeted to cause the most personal damage to your heart." Loki waved a hand. "Yes, I realize. Of course, if I am to behave myself, that shouldn't be a concern, should it?" He smiled, and his eyes gleamed, curiously. Steve narrowed his.
"Is this some kind of test?" he asked, bluntly. Loki's eyes widened in too-deliberate innocence.
"Test?"
"Yes," Steve said. "To – I don't know, see if I'm willing to trust you with something that's not just me, that could effect other people. Seeing if I really believe that you're not evil and can change or…I don't know. All I can do is guess what you're thinking, Loki. And half the time I don't think there's much point in my doing that."
Loki cocked his head to the side. "And if you were right? If I were testing you – which way would you fall?" His expression had gone unreadable again, hard as Steve might try. He sighed out through his nose.
"I couldn't in good conscience risk someone else's life when you won't guarantee me anything." He watched Loki's face closely, saw his eyes go briefly, terribly blank before that flashed away and was replaced by faint amusement.
"So you hasten to sacrifice yourself for the uncertain cause of my supposed redemption, but ultimately…your confidence in your beliefs is thin, it would seem."
"No," said Steve, staunchly. "That's not…" There was something wrong with that argument, and he knew it, but he couldn't quite find the words to say it. "I believe you can change, or be better, or however you want to think of it. I just don't know that you will. And I don't bet other peoples' lives."
"Only your own." There was something strange in Loki's face, in his voice, but Steve couldn't quite trace it.
"Well," Steve said, "that one's mine, isn't it? So I have a right to do that if I think it's the right thing to do. But I can't make that call for other people who aren't soldiers, who haven't agreed to put their lives on the line."
"And what of your responsibility to others?" Loki said, leaning back so he was lounging in the chair again, his gaze still on Steve but only sideways. "What of those you are beholden to, who rely on you as their leader and heart, your Avengers – do you not think of them? That you owe it to them not to take the foolish risk with your life of dallying with me?"
Steve took a deep breath. "I think about it, yeah," he said, after a moment's pause. "But I have a lot of duties. And ultimately, I get to choose which ones are important to me. Like all of us do."
Loki's eyes flashed with something peculiar. "You all have your pet projects."
"We all have our own lives," Steve corrected.
Loki's laugh was strangely harsh. "And I am a part of yours?"
"Yes," Steve said solidly. "You've certainly become one. Or made yourself one." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But none of that means…I'd like to trust you, maybe. Or at least like to believe that you're not going to go after someone innocent just to get to me. But I can't do that yet. You make it hard."
Loki's teeth flashed. "Good. I should be bored if you grew complacent." There was something curious in his eyes, though, that Steve thought he caught. A flicker of relief, maybe. "So I take it you will not tell me?"
Steve shrugged. "Actually…after all that, I'm almost sorry to say it, but there's nothing to tell." He thought of Peggy, felt a pang. Of Bucky, one worse. "Work keeps me busy." He hesitated, but couldn't quite resist the sudden urge to ask. "What about you?"
Loki blinked. "Me? Are you asking if…I have any romantic dalliances?"
"Or have had," Steve blurted out, after a moment. He could feel his face warming and hoped it didn't show. "I'm just…you're married, in the myths, but Th- you've never said anything…"
Loki's lips curled in a wry and bitter expression, not really a smile. "Been reading your histories, have you?"
Steve trailed off. He had been. They all had. Thinking back, though…most of the stories weren't very happy ones. Not for Loki, anyway. If they were true… "Sorry," he said, quickly. "I shouldn't…"
"No," said Loki, and his voice was suddenly strangely clipped. "I was never married. I had, I suppose, a few tarryings here and there – some more ill-advised than others – but I was never one to sow my wild oats so widely as Thor." As always, the way he said his brother's name was strange, half vicious contempt, half something thrumming deeper underneath. "Why, Captain, would you like to proposition me?"
Steve felt himself blush, but Loki's smile was all edges. Still, though – something about that smile, danger and all, made something strange tingle down Steve's spine, and he felt suddenly very self conscious. "No," he said quickly, and then felt absurd for answering what was obviously intended as a provocative question. "I mean-"
"I would not think I would be your notion of an ideal bedfellow," Loki said. His eyes floated half closed and there was something…uncomfortable about his expression, almost indecent. Steve fidgeted anxiously.
"I don't know that I have a-" His skin felt prickly, and all he could think was that Loki was making fun of him, was having a laugh like people did back in his original day about men who wanted to sleep with other men. He tried to summon a little bit of defensive frustration. "You don't need to-"
"Though I suppose," Loki went on, as smoothly as though Steve hadn't interrupted at all, "I would not be wholly averse to the notion." He sat up a little, and the way his eyes traced over Steve from head to toe- he felt like a girl in a swimsuit on a stage.
"Stop it," Steve said, sharply. "I don't – you've had your tease. If you keep pushing it-"
Loki's mouth flickered at the corners, but the expression on his face was one of faint surprise. "I've displeased you."
Steve crossed his arms again, feeling fidgety, almost – jumpy. Restless. "I've told you before that I don't like you treating me like I'm your toy."
Loki's mouth turned down at the corners, slightly, but his eyes narrowed. He looked, Steve thought, almost offended. "Is that what I was doing?"
"Wasn't it?" Steve said, though he felt a sudden, brief flash of uncertainty. He hardly ever knew when girls – people - were flirting with him. Tony always said they were, and even when he did notice he hardly knew how to respond except with politeness. Was it possible that-
Loki regarded him in silence, unblinking. Almost unmoving. The amusement had left his face, as had the frown, leaving only blank neutrality that somehow made Steve more nervous. "Well," Loki said. "My apologies. I shan't make the same mistake again. I am afraid, however, that I must take my leave – things to see to, you know how it is." He stood, in one fluid motion. Steve held back the urge to ask him to wait.
"Do you want to – um – meet for coffee again at some point?"
"Oh, perhaps," said Loki, voice strangely airy. "I shouldn't like to be a bother." He sketched a bow, strangely, and turned, hand lifting, before Steve realized something.
"Wait!" he did say, then, and Loki turned, eyebrows raised. "I just…thanks. I didn't say it before. But thank you, for the warning about Doom. I'm grateful, and I know you didn't have to do it."
Loki's expression flickered in a strange way. "No matter," he said, after a moment's pause. "Think nothing of it."
"I do, though," Steve said, not pausing to think too much about his words, just letting them go. "You took a big risk and saved our skins. It was…" he groped for the right words, knowing they were there, but not quite able to find them. "…a good thing to do. The right thing."
Loki scoffed, but it sounded strange, forced, and his eyebrows pulled together like he was somehow troubled by Steve's gratitude. "The Thor thing, more like. Do not think I shall make a habit of it."
"One good deed is still a good deed," Steve said. Loki was still a moment, and then his eyes flicked to Steve's, his expression wholly unreadable.
"Is it still, if done for selfish reasons?" he asked, almost without intonation, and then was gone. Steve stared at the place he had been, the question, selfish reasons? on his tongue, an odd feeling in his stomach.
~.~
Steve didn't keep his meeting with Loki a secret, exactly: he just didn't talk about it. Which – it wasn't like anyone asked, not directly. He found himself almost glad of that, that he got to have this private, special (bizarre) thing, whatever it was. Of course, whenever the thought crossed his mind, invariably a moment later he would think of Thor and feel a stab of guilt. Thor wanted to know, he could tell. But he didn't ask.
After the incident with Doom, Steve's relationship with Loki seemed to be, to most of them, more a source of resigned bemusement than any actual concern, even if no one seemed to find Steve's vague explanations very credible. Except for Tony, who had taken with unholy glee to calling Loki 'Steve's boyfriend' and seemed to find the whole thing hilarious, and Clint, who still shut down like an oyster whenever someone so much as said his name. Steve tried once to talk to him about it and got approximately nowhere.
It was on Loki, though, that Steve most often found his thoughts lingering. Almost disquietingly often. He wondered what Loki was doing, how he occupied himself. He pictured him walking through cities and wondered which he would like, or else perhaps in the wilderness, exploring quiet places few had gone. He realized all over again that for all he knew, or thought he knew, he still knew almost nothing.
That probably should have made him nervous, but mostly he was just curious. It seemed, suddenly, like there was so much he didn't see, that none of them did, and he sometimes wondered if Thor would know, wanted to talk to him about his questions, but – he knew better than to do that. The idea of Thor's look of profound sadness was deterrent enough.
"Fine afternoon, isn't it?"
Steve managed to keep his startle internal. He hoped, at least, that way it would be less satisfying. "Is that really necessary?" he said, keeping his voice mild.
"It's the little joys." Steve turned his head around to look up at Loki, standing behind the bench he'd adopted to sketch on. Loki smiled at him, and it struck Steve as a young smile, mischievous and sharp and taken with its own cleverness. Steve smiled back without thinking, and Loki's grin seemed to widen. "Surely you would not make me set them aside?"
Steve shook his head a little. "I would never." He tucked his pencil away and turned around a little more fully. "I thought we were going to try to meet more normally. Was that just a one time thing?"
"I thought to make it otherwise. Hence why I am here."
Steve gave him an odd look. "How does that figure?"
"What are you doing?" Loki asked, in lieu of responding, and leaned down to peer over his shoulder. Steve closed his sketchbook quickly. "Ah, I see-"
"If this is your idea of a more formal," Steve started to say, standing up and turning to face Loki across the park bench, but Loki laughed brightly, sounding genuinely amused. It occurred to Steve that he'd seen Thor in civilian clothes only a few times, and it always looked a little odd, but Loki seemed to manage it almost naturally.
"No, no – but 'more formal' requires an invitation, planning, etcetera, does it not?"
Steve crossed his arms. "And you're planning."
"I am always planning." Loki's smile flashed just a little too sharp. "Is your evening occupied?"
Steve blinked. "I…guess not," he allowed, slowly. "No, wait - we usually have team dinners on Fridays."
Loki flipped his hand in dismissal. "No matter. Tell them you have other plans."
Steve frowned. "I don't."
"You do now." Loki's eyes were bright, almost feverish. "I am taking you to a proper dinner. Somewhere of class." Steve stared at him blankly.
"You're – what?"
"You wished to meet more formally, you said, did you not? This is the sort of thing you mortals do, isn't it? I have gathered that much, and you do some intriguing things with cuisine." Loki's tone was perfectly high-handed, casual, as though it were not the least bit in doubt that Steve would accept. He frowned slightly, and raised his eyebrows.
"I can't just back out on dinner with my friends. They're expecting me."
"Surely they will manage perfectly adequately without your supervision," Loki said airily. Steve grimaced.
"I'm not – they're my friends." Loki's lips turned down at the corners, very slightly.
"Then surely they would excuse you for one evening." There was something strange, sliding into his voice, and Steve jumped after it, trying to figure out what it was. Knowing Loki – if he could even say that – it was probably important. "You can't just assume-"
"I would not think you would be so reluctant to enjoy a pleasant evening. Or is the company faulty?" Oh, there. Steve realized, suddenly, that despite being issued as an order, this was an invitation, and what he could hear creeping into Loki's voice was – tension. No, anxiety. Steve swallowed, and chose his words carefully.
"If you want me to come…you can just say so. Don't just…waltz in and tell me what I'm going to do."
Loki's expression closed. The young smile was gone, and Steve found he missed it. "I would have thought an invitation would make it sufficiently clear that your presence was desired."
"It sounded more like a demand than an invitation," Steve said carefully. Loki's lips pressed together and Steve could almost see the last bit of mask slide over his eyes, leaving them scrupulously blank.
"My most sincere apologies, then." Loki began to turn. Steve could almost see the spines coming back up, bristling a protective coat of don't touch me. "I will trouble you no further, and hope that you have a lovely-"
"Wait," Steve said, suddenly. "Did I say I didn't want to?"
Loki stilled. Still turned, his back to Steve. "If you have more important duties to attend to-"
"We have dinner every week," Steve said, the words spilling out of him in a rush. "I just meant – I can't just ditch them without saying anything. I have to ask if they mind. I don't think they will, and if they don't, then - then sure."
Loki didn't move for several moments. Then he turned slowly, green eyes narrowed, his expression taut. Steve thought of stray cats again, watching an extended hand that might offer food or pain. He had to wonder, sometimes, if Loki had always been that way, or when he'd started expecting a trap behind every kindness. "I do not need your acceptance. I can just as easily go alone."
"I know," Steve said, calmly, his voice steady. He waited. Loki's eyes narrowed a little more.
"I would not have you accept out of pity." He spat the word with ferocious, almost vicious vehemence.
"I'm not," Steve said. He could almost see Loki hovering on the edge of decision, and he tried not to look anxious.
"Meet me on the corner of 9th and 51st," Loki said, suddenly, his voice almost sharp. "7 o' clock. Do not be late." His eyes flicked up and down Steve, assessing. "And do wear some nicer clothing."
Loki turned in a swirl of black coat. "Hey," Steve called out, before he could vanish off to wherever he went. "Thanks. It sounds…I'm looking forward to it."
"I should hope so," Loki said, his voice cool and not turning back. "The price I paid for the invitation alone…seven, Captain." He did not flourish his hand, or step forward, simply – vanished. One moment there and the next gone.
Invitation? Steve thought, a little faintly.
The sound of Tony's suit cut through his disconcerted haze, and he turned around to face him as he landed, heart suddenly jumping. "—Tony? What's-"
"Nope, he's here," Tony said, in his mechanical voice. "Looks fine- you fine, Cap?"
"I'm…yes?" Steve said, somewhat blankly. Tony's faceplate retracted and he looked like he couldn't decide whether to be amused or annoyed. "What's this about?"
"Lemme guess," Tony said, "you were just talking to Loki."
Steve frowned, trying to suppress his immediate reaction of defensiveness. "Tony, can you just tell me-"
"You teleported," Tony said, sounding resigned. "One minute you were here, then – at least according to your GPS - you were in Latveria. Huh. Kind of surprised it took him this long to pull something." Tony wrinkled his nose. "Your boyfriend's kind of an obnoxious little fucker, isn't he?"
"He's not my boyfriend," Steve said, even knowing it wouldn't change anything. "I'm sorry for the trouble." He was trying to think through his closet, if there was anything in there that would be fitting for a (very) nice dinner out.
"Nah," Tony said. "This just means I have to up my game. Good talk?"
"I don't know," Steve said honestly. "I never do." He rubbed his head. Knew it was a bad idea, but he didn't think trying to figure it out on his own would end well. "Tony…do you know where I could find something to wear for a fancy dinner on short notice?"
Tony's face lit up. Steve felt his stomach sink. "Oh, man," Tony said, puffing up like a bird of paradise. "You're shitting me." Steve fidgeted, and his friend started to grin like a loon. "Oooh, Steve."
"Stop it," he said, and couldn't keep it from being a bit peevish. "Just- do you?"
"Yeah," Tony said, and Steve could almost see him calculating and wished he'd asked – maybe Pepper instead. "Yeah, I can think of a few…all right, Cap. Let's get you dolled up for your date with crazy."
He's not crazy, Steve caught himself wanting to protest, but he didn't say anything. Tony didn't need any encouragement, and he was pretty sure anything he said would probably count as encouragement.
He just had to hope he wasn't making a mistake, here.
~.~
Steve felt self-conscious and absurd. He stood stiffly in the suit Tony had procured for him, not quite sure where he was supposed to be and still feeling, even now, like he was playacting and that everyone could see it. Like he was a pretender, and not a very good one.
He scanned the moving crowds of people, hoping to spot Loki before Loki could spot him and sneak up on him. It seemed that wasn't his goal tonight, though, because between one blink and the next he was there, hands in his pockets, looking as effortlessly elegant as ever, the formalwear only accentuating the already long lines of his body. Steve's feeling of awkwardness only increased in comparison. The scarf draped around his neck looked oddly familiar, and it took a moment to place where from. Steve frowned.
"Captain," Loki said, voice silky and pleasant. "Well. You do look nice." There was an approving note there that made a flush climb up the back of Steve's neck, and a fainter note of surprise that provoked a small sting of disgruntlement.
"I can dress up," he protested mildly, instead of his first instinct, which was to say so do you. With help. "Nice scarf."
It was that smile again, the one that was just slightly too wide to be genuine. He lifted a hand to finger the fringes. "Mm. I hope you don't find it in poor taste. I've been accused of having a…questionable…sense of humor."
"I wonder why," Steve said dryly, but he shook his head. It still seemed so strange to him, with all these people here, that not one of them turned to look and noticed Loki there. He rubbed his hands self-consciously on his pants. "So…where are we going? I was looking for a restaurant around here, but…"
Loki laughed. "The best places, my dear Captain," he said, "Do not advertise." He offered his elbow, eyebrows raised and mouth quirked like with some private joke. "Shall we?" Steve eyed the offered elbow, but a moment later it dropped away with a slight amused huff. "As you will. I would not wish to be an affront to your sense of propriety. This way." Loki turned smoothly on his heel and strode to an unmarked door. He glanced at the keypad to the right of the door, then flicked his fingers at the doorknob. Steve heard the lock click open and managed not to stare, glanced over his shoulder at the people milling around them who seemed not to have noticed a thing. Loki slipped through the now open door, and after an uneasy pause, Steve trailed after him.
"If you're invited," he started to say, "shouldn't you…"
"Let me manage the details, Captain," Loki said breezily. "I assure you I am quite capable." There was a narrow flight of stairs at the end of the hallway, and Steve followed Loki up them, wondering suddenly if he'd fallen for some kind of trick.
They climbed two flights of stairs, and then Loki stopped before a set of doors, plain, still unmarked. "Are you sure this is really the right place?" Steve asked.
"Quite sure," Loki said, and lifted his hand to rap smartly on the door. It opened after a moment, and a man wearing clothes nicer than most of what Steve owned stood in the doorway.
"Yes?" he said, sounding rather cool, and looking back and forth between them. His eyes lingered on Steve, he thought, but he didn't say anything. "Can I help you?"
"I daresay," Loki said, and Steve almost started. He realized belatedly that he'd almost forgotten how that exact tone sounded, perfectly haughty and disdainful. It'd been a while since Loki had used it with him. He produced an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, and proferred it. "I should hope everything is in order."
Whatever was in the envelope, the – butler's? – manner changed completely. He went from nearly disrespectful to almost deferential, bowing his head hastily. "My apologies, sir," he said, "yes, of course…we have your table at the back." Loki breezed past his welcoming gesture without acknowledgment, and, embarrassed, Steve murmured a hasty, "thanks, thank you," as he went by.
And stopped.
He didn't know what he'd expected, but from the fairly modest façade and the lack of any signs or menu…Tony had taken them to nice restaurants, and those had made Steve vaguely uncomfortable with the sheer luxury of it all when he knew there were people who had hardly anything right here in New York, but this.
There was a fountain. Indoors. Everything was elaborate and ornate and the host was opening another door that led into a – private dining room?
How much did all this cost?
"You gawk like a provincial, Steve Rogers," Loki murmured, close enough to his ear that Steve felt the whisper of his breath. Steve felt himself flush. "I told you it would be a fine establishment, did I not?"
Steve tried to smooth his expression. "This is incredible," he said, not sure how he meant it, and then turned to look at Loki and realized that he wasn't looking at the room at all. Watching him react, he thought, and if his first reaction was to think to mock me for being an ignoramus that was belied by just the briefest glimpse of an expression almost warm, eager.
Loki, Steve realized abruptly, was…might be…trying to impress him.
Everything felt suddenly, profoundly surreal. "It's…amazing," Steve said honestly. "How did you…"
"I have my ways." Loki's hand landed lightly on his back and guided him forward. Steve started a little at the touch, surprised by the strange intimacy of it. "Come, take a seat." Steve followed the urging and stepped into the little dining room, took in the small table set for two. He sat down awkwardly, and Loki folded into the chair across from him. Steve fidgeted in his chair.
"Everything is to satisfaction?" the butler-host said, hovering in the doorway.
"Yes, quite," Loki said, not glancing over.
"Someone will be with you shortly to bring you a wine list," the man said, and shut the door. Steve blinked a few times, rapidly, still feeling slightly dazed.
"When you said 'nice,'" he managed finally. Loki's grin was wide and delighted, and lit up his eyes. Steve felt peculiarly gratified that he'd put that expression there. It also made him realize just how few of the smiles he'd seen before were really real. "I didn't even know there were places like this."
"I am glad that I can be a part of your education," Loki said easily. Steve looked around them again.
"Thank you," Steve said, honestly, looking back to Loki, and for a moment his expression was strange, startled, almost uncomfortable. It was gone a moment later, though, a smile in its place, though one slightly less bright.
"Don't thank me until you've eaten," he said. The door opened, and Steve glanced over quickly, half expecting something terrible, but it was just the waiter, who breezed over and set down a wine list in front of both of them. More like, Steve thought, a wine book. He wouldn't even know where to start.
Steve let Loki handle talking to the waiter, flipping through the list and trying to look like he knew what any of it meant. He felt hopelessly lost and unsophisticated, and at the same time this was all so…extravagant.
"The…host? Acted like he recognized you," Steve said, lifting his eyes after the waiter was gone. Loki was perusing the wines, and for a moment Steve's gaze caught on the slight furrow between his eyebrows, his face angled slightly downward and an expression of studious solemnity on his features. He had a striking face, Steve thought suddenly. A good one to draw, if he could capture it. All the infinite complexity of expression that he'd just started to realize.
"He did not," Loki said smoothly. "Merely recognized the writ I had in the hand of one of your senators."
"How did you get-"
"Amazing, what you are able to find for the right price." Loki glanced up from the wine list. "Do you mind if I order a bottle for us both?"
"No," Steve said gratefully. "I wouldn't have any idea what would be good. But shouldn't we wait for the menu and match it with the…"
Loki's laugh sounded curiously affectionate. "The meal is pre-planned, my Captain. It's already been settled."
"It…oh." Steve felt just a little bit more out of his depth. "I – all right?"
"I hope you don't mind that I don't spoil the surprise." Loki took a sip of his glass of water, delicately. Steve shook his head, mute.
"I really don't know how any of this works," he said, after a moment
"Never fear." Loki's eyes glittered slightly in the dim light. "I shall look after you with the most tender of care." A bizarre, tingly feeling trailed down his spine as Steve blinked.
"I…right. Yes." Loki's eyes were dancing with amusement, and Steve shifted and cleared his throat. "How are you affording all this?" he asked, attempting to change the subject. "I mean…I don't expect you have a job."
"Indeed I do not." Loki flashed him a grin and briefly held up a card between two fingers before it disappeared again. "What Victor doesn't know won't hurt him," he said lightly. Steve frowned.
"Vict-" Oh. His eyes widened. "You're joking." Loki's expression went exaggeratedly offended.
"I am no such thing." He leaned back in his chair, the picture of comfortable ease. "I thought you would object to my employing somewhat less…ah…legal methods of payment. And look at it this way – it is funds Victor cannot use for his nefarious plans."
"And if he finds out you stole from him?"
"Then I shall apologize profusely and acquiesce to one of his irritating little experiments to appease him." Loki waved a hand. "You worry too much, my Captain. Endearing though that worry may be, I think you might find other uses for that energy." There was something to that smile – but surely that was just his imagination. Steve cleared his throat.
"I just think you might be taking a few too many risks," he tried. Loki's mouth just curved in a bit more of a smile.
"I? Risks? Rest assured, I am most cautious."
"Yeah," Steve said. "Sure." He paused, suddenly registering something Loki had said. "Wait – experiments?" He couldn't quite keep the alarm out of his voice.
"Mmm. I am somewhat of a curiosity, it would seem." Loki's voice was briefly touched with something, not quite disgust, but it was gone too quickly for Steve to pick it out or decide what it was. "Never fear. He shall not be gaining any kind of power from me." Loki tipped his head back slightly. "I do have my standards as to where I offer my gifts, you see." The corners of his mouth twitched, as though with a private joke. Steve shifted again, though he wasn't entirely sure why he felt so fidgety.
"Still," Steve protested. "You don't think…" He didn't like the idea, and Loki's reassurance that Doom wasn't going to be able to acquire any new abilities wasn't that reassuring, and it wasn't that Steve didn't believe him. I don't like it, he wanted to say, but knew that Loki would likely just laugh at him.
"I don't particularly enjoy it," Loki said smoothly. "But as I have mentioned – a one-sided bargain is terribly unreliable. I give Doom scraps and tidbits he thinks he wants while he tries to weasel out more. It maintains our tenuous alliance well enough."
Steve rubbed his hands on his thighs. "You could always," he started to say, and trailed off when Loki's eyes snapped to him, almost sharp. His gaze relaxed quickly, though, eyebrows arching.
"If you keep propositioning me, Captain, I may begin to wonder about the honor of your intentions." Steve felt heat rush into his face, and Loki laughed. "Oh, you are endearing. It is no wonder you are so well beloved." The words sounded a little like mocking, but the tone wasn't, Steve thought, quite right. How was he supposed to know what was going on? Loki's long fingers steepled under his chin. "And here I have you all to myself."
Steve's whole body felt suddenly warm. He swallowed, and found a weak smile. "Don't you usually? I mean – when we – talk, meet like this, it's not like…" Loki's eyes looked unusually green in this light. Why did he feel so jumpy?
"I suppose that's so." Loki picked up his water glass and took a sip, kept it at his lips. "Nonetheless…" His tongue crept out and swiped a stray drop of water from the rim. "I hope for a pleasurable evening, mm?"
Steve swallowed again. "Yep," he said. This was a mistake, he thought to himself, but like something he thought he should be thinking. There was no real force behind it. Steve suddenly wished the wine was already here, even if alcohol didn't do anything for him anymore.
The squirming feeling in his stomach wasn't so much anxious, he thought. Not exactly.
~.~
"We'll have to do this again," Loki had murmured, his hand for just a moment brushing Steve's shoulder so lightly he wasn't even certain it truly made contact.
"Sure," Steve had said, half aware and stuffed with the best food he'd eaten in a long time. "I'd like that."
Steve was cleaning out the dishes that had been left in the kitchen when he felt a soft breath on the back of his neck. He spun, lashing out automatically with the pan in his hand, but Loki's hand caught his wrist, stopping it inches from his face. The corners of his mouth were turned up, though there was something strange about his eyes.
"Not precisely," Loki murmured, "the greeting I was expecting."
Steve stared incredulously at Loki. "What are you doing?" he said, and perhaps it came out slightly sharply. Loki's expression went briefly affronted.
"Nor was that."
Steve opened his mouth, and then closed it. He tried to tug his wrist away, and found he could barely move it. His eyes snapped to Loki's face, still with that strange look in his eyes. "Loki?" he said, carefully. Loki's thumb shifted, suddenly, stroked oddly along the inside of his wrist before letting go.
"Surprise," he said, almost brightly. Steve's skin seemed to tingle where he'd touched it, and he set the pot down and touched the spot almost absently, as though he'd feel something there. "Yes, yes, I recall – more regular meetings, not surprising you, spare me the lecture. I grew impatient. One of my many character flaws." His smile was swift and sharp, full of irony. Steve glanced nervously toward the elevator.
"Impatient for what?" Steve asked blankly.
"Well, that's the question, isn't it." Loki's voice sounded faintly, strangely, amused, but that was gone in his next words. "What are you doing?"
Steve gestured at the sink. "Washing dishes."
"Dull." Loki waved a hand at the sink and Steve jumped a little as the dishes began – doing themselves. "Now that you are freed from that duty, you can attend to the infinitely more pleasurable one of conversing with me." His smile was quick and sharp, just a little toothy.
Steve wished, fervently, that he had some way of knowing what was going on in Loki's head. There was something odd, and with Loki he was too aware that might mean dangerous, particularly if he didn't know what was going on and said the wrong thing, which was so easy to do. "I – all right? Is there something going on?"
"Is that your way of asking if I want something?" Loki's mouth curved, his eyebrows arching slightly. "No, nothing in particular. My life very nearly verges on the dull."
"Sounds like a relief," Steve said honestly. Loki lounged against the counter.
"Does it? I suppose. I bore quickly." Steve picked up a towel, after looking at Loki for a moment longer, and dried his hands before turning to face him.
"You're acting kind of odd," Steve said honestly, deciding to try for direct. As though he could really do anything else.
"And you would know what is odd behavior for me?" Well. Amused was better than annoyed, or worse. Steve squared his shoulders.
"I'd like to think maybe I do. At least a little bit." Loki looked at him in silence for a few moments, his gaze opaque. He hadn't, Steve realized suddenly, gotten better at reading Loki. Loki had just been letting him see more. He straightened, stepped away from the counter, and paced a few steps away, something tense about his shoulders, maybe. Or did he always look like that? Steve frowned. "Is it another attack," he started to ask. Loki shook his head in a short, sharp jerk.
"I am not your informer, Captain, to sing warnings of whatever threats may be coming for you. I am my own."
"You've made that clear," Steve said slowly, carefully. "Look, I just…I'm a little lost."
"Perhaps I merely wished for the pleasure of your company," Loki said, but it was a little too crisp, something vibrating in his voice that wasn't quite temper. "Is that so impossible? …you haven't mentioned your crusade in some time, Captain."
Steve blinked at the change in direction. "My…crusade?"
"To – ah, for lack of a better word - convert me. Given up, have you?" Loki turned back, his eyes startlingly intense, almost glinting. Steve felt ghostly fingers tickle at his spine. What was going on here?
"No," he said, still careful. "I just figured I'd give you some time to think about it."
"Oh," Loki said, and his voice suddenly dropped to a low murmur. "I've thought about it."
"You…have you?" Steve tensed, almost bracing himself, but then Loki tossed his head and laughed and whatever the sudden, strange feeling of heaviness had been, it abated.
"It's an interesting philosophical question, isn't it? Fate, destiny, the inevitability of our paths laid out in stone before ever we take a step. Or…not. If, as you would have it, each choice is solely our own. I wonder. Who can know, in truth? And yet, fate or choice, it seems my path keeps leading me back to you, my Captain. Isn't that curious?"
Steve fidgeted. His mouth felt strangely dry. "Yeah," he said, after a moment. "Curious."
"I told myself it was but curiosity," Loki said, and took a strangely prowling step in Steve's direction, and then another. "What strangeness, after all. Surely beneath your shining exterior was a rotten core that I could bring to the surface. Why not? There always is." Steve stood stock still, felt an unpleasant twist in his chest. "And yet…" Loki's eyes narrowed, fractionally.
"I don't understand what you're getting at," Steve said. Loki shifted back on his heels and smiled.
"Oh no?"
"No," Steve said, a little more firmly. "I really don't. Can you just-"
"Get to the point?" Loki cut in smoothly, and there was something about his voice that…Steve stopped. Loki closed the last of the distance between them, stopped just a foot away, head cocked slightly to the side. Steve felt powerfully aware of his closeness. "I find you intriguing, Steve Rogers. Deeply so."
Steve hardly dared to move. "Oh," he said, a little bit vaguely, but his brain didn't seem to quite be working right, or at least was not telling him what he should do in this situation. Loki's slender fingers lifted and smoothed down the front of his shirt.
"I would have you," Loki said, his voice lower still. "And seldom do I fail in getting what I want."
Steve jerked, feeling his blood seem to heat all at once, and finally found himself able to act. He jumped back, almost stumbling over his own feet. "Stop it," he said, sharply. "Stop – teasing me, whatever it is you're doing-"
Loki looked genuinely surprised as he paused, head cocked slightly at an angle. "Teasing you?" His lips curved, in a very slight smile, but if it was still slightly dark…a different kind of darkness, Steve thought. A different kind of danger.
Loki was serious, Steve realized. Sincere. He was actually…
Butterflies flapped violently in his stomach, and he took several more steps back. "I've gotta go," he stammered, hastily. "They're – they're expecting me upstairs, if I don't turn up-"
Loki took a prowling step nearer him, lips curved and eyes glinting in a way that made Steve's stomach flip. "Why the sudden rush? Have I offended?"
"—no," Steve said hurriedly. "No, not in the least, I've just remembered…"
"Important business," Loki said, and there was something strange about his voice, almost a purr that made Steve shiver a little.
"Um," he said eloquently, and Loki took another small step forward. Steve took a little step back and hit the counter.
"Surely you can linger…just another moment."
Loki was very close. He could smell the very faint scent of metal, and something else, more particular. Magic, he thought stupidly. It's probably magic. "I should," he tried to say, weakly. Loki's hand slid through his hair to cradle the back of Steve's head, and then he was kissing Loki, Loki, who'd destroyed half of New York, who had (at least had) an unnerving habit of semi-kidnapping him, who was so far from safe or anything-
Loki's tongue fluttered lightly against his lips and Steve let them part, slightly, without thinking, but Loki was already pulling back. If his eyes had been gleaming before…
Steve swallowed.
"Still in a hurry?" Loki murmured.
"I should really…" Loki's fingers shifted, carded through Steve's hair. He cocked his head to the side, expression frustratingly innocent, and Steve scrambled after his thought. "—go."
"Should," Loki said, and frowned. "Should. You are so fond of that word. But it's not absolute, you know. Should is not will." His fingers pressed just lightly against Steve's scalp. "And that is my question. What will you do, Captain?" His eyes half closed, but the expression neither looked lazy nor menacing. Steve swallowed hard. He felt helpless, wrong-footed, and his heart was thumping against his rib cage.
"I told you I wasn't going to be your – toy."
Loki's expression went slightly incredulous. "Is that what you think-" He cut off, eyebrows quirking, and drew just a little away to examine Steve's face. "I should like to…disabuse you of such a notion."
Something about the way he said 'disabuse' was unfairly…Steve resisted the urge to squirm. His body felt warm, almost overheated. "Um," he said, coherently. Is this really happening, some still functional part of his brain wondered, or is this all some bizarre…
Loki's fingers curled into his hair and pulled his head back at the same time as he dropped his head, lips fastening just below Steve's jawline. He exhaled one hot breath on the skin, teased at a spot with his tongue, and then sucked hard.
Steve swore he felt it through his whole body. The suction-tug at his neck answered low in his stomach, an electric current joining the two and spreading through the rest of him. "Nnh," he heard himself say, and his knees wobbled. Loki's other arm curved around his waist and steadied him. When Loki let up there was a pleasant ache in his neck. Loki's tongue laved over it in what seemed like it should have been a soothing manner. It wasn't.
He wanted, Steve thought, dazedly. He really wanted. Wanted and hardly knew how to –
His hands groped blindly up Loki's back and gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in. The sound Loki made was almost like a gasp, and his body jerked where Steve could feel it pressed against him. He loosened his hands quickly. "Sorry, I didn't think-"
"No," Loki cut him off, his voice rich and thick. "No, do it again," and without thinking Steve obeyed, tightened his grip and felt Loki's shoulders arch into his hands. Heat welled up like springwater low in his belly and he was suddenly acutely conscious of the nearness of Loki's body pressed up against his. His breathing came in abbreviated, rapid pants, his chest feeling tight.
What are you doing? He thought a little wildly, and then Loki's mouth fixed just under his jaw and sucked again, and Steve's whole body jerked forward. He could feel the counter digging into his back but it didn't seem to matter so much, not really, though he should probably-
Loki lifted his head and raised his eyes to Steve's. There was something dark and – Steve could only think hungry in his gaze and felt a warm flush all through his body. "I assure you," he said, and something in the tone of his voice made a pleasant little chill crawl down Steve's spine. "I am not…toying with you." Steve swallowed.
"Okay," he managed. The corner of Loki's mouth quirked. It didn't lighten the look in his eyes one bit, an intensity that made Steve's mouth go a little dry.
"That's all?" Loki's arm around his waist slid loose, his hand running up Steve's side. Steve's eyes fixed on Loki's face, noticed the small motion of his tongue swiping across his lower lip. "I'd expect a little-"
Steve detached one of his hands from Loki's shoulders, slid it up into his hair, and pulled Loki in for a kiss without thinking about it too much. Enjoyed, just a little, the way Loki's body tensed in surprise and then relaxed, the small approving "hmm" sound, and this was fine, just a little-
Loki's hips shifted and Steve was suddenly very aware of the hard line of muscle pressed up against him, and it was just the smallest movement but – oh.
Steve felt himself blushing at the noise he made, the way his body reacted without him even deciding to do anything. Loki pulled back and Steve could hear the harsh, quick sound of his breathing, was momentarily pleased by it and then a little embarrassed to realize that he was. Loki's hands felt like they were everywhere, in his head, on his neck, his sides.
Steve dared a glance at Loki's face and regretted it. There was a faint flush high in his cheeks and his eyes were glazed. He looked…debauched, and Steve found that a not small part of him liked that, too. "Loki," he started to say, and found that his own voice sounded odd. His whole body felt hot and itchy and his thoughts kept straying to where Loki's leg was nestled just perfectly to – make it hard to focus.
Loki's head dropped again and he licked a line up the side of Steve's neck, teased the tip of his tongue behind Steve's earlobe, sucked it into his mouth. Steve forgot what he'd meant to say and scrambled after it. It seemed like it ought to be important. "Loki," he said again, instead, and it didn't sound particularly authoritative.
"Mm. I could get used to hearing you say my name like that." Loki's breath was warm on his ear. One of those long-fingered hands was teasing through his hair and Steve was running out of logical reasons to tell Loki to stop cause he didn't, really, want to. He let his fingers curl into long black hair and decided it wasn't worth it.
Of course, just then, Loki's head jerked up. His head swiveled around. Steve heard nothing, but Loki's expression went suddenly furious. "Damn," he said, concisely.
"Unh," Steve said coherently, and then managed, "What's…"
Loki pulled away. Steve made a protesting noise without really meaning to, feeling suddenly light-headed and – frustrated. "I shall make this up to you," Loki said, and his eyes glittered, slightly. "—soon. I hope." He pounced, kissed Steve again – fiercely, his teeth nipping briefly at Steve's lower lip – and then was gone. Steve stared, hot and flustered and confused.
There was a knock on the wall to the rhythm of "Shave and a Hair Cut." "Hey, Cap," Tony's voice floated through, a moment before he waltzed into the room. Steve didn't think he'd ever been so unhappy to see him. "Bruce's declared it board game night downstairs, want to come?"
Steve closed his eyes and counted to five so he didn't snap, and then found a smile. "I think I'm about to go to bed, actually," he said, and hoped his voice didn't sound too strained. "But thanks for – thanks for inviting me."
"It's only nine," Tony said, after a moment, and gave him a weird look. Steve deliberately didn't look down at himself to see if there were any – signs. "Okay, whatever, grandpa."
His head cleared a little in the cold shower. It was probably for the best, he told himself. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stop, and he just didn't quite think that – that was appropriate. (Not yet, murmured a treacherous part of his brain. Maybe in the future…)
He pushed the thought away and stayed up reading, or maybe waiting. When he fell asleep, he had a number of very uncomfortable (and fairly pleasant) dreams.
~.~
Loki didn't come back.
Steve kept expecting him to turn up, in the middle of a movie, out on a walk, when he was sketching, maybe even when he was sleeping. And even if there was a part of him that knew he needed to be careful and that he should never have let things get as far as they had – he still wanted to blush, just thinking that –
The rest of him wanted to see Loki again and see what 'making it up to him' meant.
But a week, two weeks, passed, and Steve started to think it had just been another game, another way of screwing with him and that he'd fallen for it like an idiot. He didn't say it to anyone, but it nagged at the back of his mind, and he was furious at himself for ever thinking – thinking what?
Everyone who'd ever said he was naïve was right, after all, and Loki had played him like a fiddle. And the more time that passed, the more likely it seemed…
The worst part was that he still couldn't stop hoping that maybe it was something else.
And then they stumbled in from dealing with A.I.M. – again – and were greeted by JARVIS's smooth, slightly accented voice as they stepped inside. "Sir," he said, "I would like to inform you that the individual known as Loki is on your couch on floor eleven. Vital signs indicate unconsciousness."
They froze as one. "What?" Clint said, voice spiking an octave. Thor's eyes widened in horror. Steve's stomach flipped.
"Is that a joke? No, no, no, this is not how I wanted to-"
"If I may advise you further," JARVIS interrupted, "Vital signs also show appreciable decline, and I am guessing that your couch will undoubtedly stain."
Thor stood bolt upright. "What does that mean, does your servant mean to say-" There was panic naked in his voice. Steve was in motion for the elevator before he thought how it might look. Appreciable decline. He remembered how Loki had looked, that first and the only time Steve had seen him lose consciousness, and that he was here – he wouldn't have come here if there was any other choice at all.
"Steve," said Natasha sharply. He half turned, thinking of – if Doom had found out…
"Whatever's going on," he said, managing to keep his voice level, "all things considered, don't you think I'm the best one to deal with it?"
"Don't be," Tony started to say, but Bruce interrupted him.
"Go," he said. "Go ahead. Let us know if…"
"I will," Steve said at once, and went for the elevator.
He fidgeted all the way up to the eleventh floor, charged out, and stopped dead. The air was suffused with the smell of blood, smears on the floor, a handprint on one wall. His heart sank and he moved forward carefully.
Loki was sprawled on the couch like he'd fallen there, perfectly still and death white. Steve edged over and reached for a pulse at his neck, aware that if Loki woke up he might well see Steve as a threat. It took him a moment to find the pulse, and when he did it was a flutter that seemed weak and sucked at his teeth. "JARVIS," he said. "Call – ask Bruce if-"
"I have been a fool."
Steve jumped, his eyes snapping to Loki's face. His eyes were green slits.
"What," he started to say, then shook his head. "I'm calling for help. Don't…" he trailed off, not sure what would help. Loki's expression didn't change.
"I suppose I might have known." His voice slurred slightly. "Clever. How you've…drawn the snare tight so slowly I didn't see…" he turned his head and spat bright red blood on the floor. "Fine. So be it. I have nowhere else…" Loki's eyes drifted closed and he made an awful, choking sort of laughing noise.
Steve grabbed for his shoulder and shook him. Loki's eyes dragged open, just barely. "Hey. Pay attention. What happened?"
"You always do ask the most inane questions," Loki murmured. Steve tried to tug at the unfamiliar leather clothing slick with blood. "I hope this is not too terrible of an…inconvenience."
A little bit of Loki's clothing gave way, and a few more clasps popped open when Steve tugged harder, but all he could see was more blood and it looked like there wasn't any skin left at all, just-
Loki took a shallow breath and Steve's gorge rose. He swallowed hard. What sort of… "Loki," he said sharply. "Focus. Can you at least tell me if – are we in danger?"
The corners of his mouth quirked, and he made that awful, almost gurgling laugh again. "No. Fear not. You shall not be…" he trailed off, and his eyes blinked slowly closed. So this wasn't about them, Steve thought with relief, and then felt almost immediately horribly guilty for being relieved.
"Hey," Steve said again, trying to catch Loki's attention, glancing over his shoulder. Where were they? "It's good that you came here, whatever's going on, we can help-"
"Good that I…is it?" Loki's head lolled a little sideways. "We shall…hmm. Do what you will, Captain," Loki said. "I am finished." His voice slurred slightly again in a way that made Steve's chest tighten.
"JARVIS," Steve said tightly.
"Dr. Banner is on his way. Accompanied by Tony Stark. Agents Barton and Romanov are keeping Thor away." Steve glanced nervously at Loki at the mention of Thor's name, but he didn't seem to react, breathing raggedly, his chest barely moving. Steve's own heart thudded hard, and he jammed his fingers over that faint pulse again, pushed the blood soaked leather back into place like it might help. What had happened, was this Doom-
"Steve," said Tony's voice, modified through the suit. "What the hell's – holy shit, that's a lot of blood. Is he dead? Like, actually, for real, legit-"
"Tony," Bruce said sharply, and nudged Steve out of the way, kneeling next to the couch. He took one look at Loki's face and his expression went grim. "Steve, go to the medical bay, grab the emergency kit and the blue bucket on the left side of the room."
Steve hesitated a bare moment. If Loki opened his eyes again and saw Bruce or Tony there-
He wasn't in any shape to cause them any harm, Steve decided, not with Tony in his armor. It'd be fine. He strode for the elevator. "Jesus Christ, my couch," he heard from Tony, and then, "Should someone tell Thor?"
Steve deliberately shut it out as he charged up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. What had happened, what the hell had happened and why hadn't Loki just come here before, why hadn't he just-
Fear and anger warred in his chest and Steve shoved it down. Focus, he thought ferociously. There's work you need to do.
He wanted it to mean something, that Loki had come back here, that on the very edge of death he'd chosen, finally, to surrender. Knowing he couldn't get away, he'd as good as turned himself in, even if it was out of need. Wanted to think that maybe he'd finally gotten through to Loki, somehow, actually reached him.
Or maybe he'd just thought he'd die before it became a problem. The thought made Steve's stomach turn flips. He wouldn't. Stories didn't end like that.
Steve burst into the infirmary, cast about for the blue bucket Bruce had mentioned, threw the emergency kit on top and hefted it into his arms before starting back down. He wanted it to mean something. Hoped that maybe it would.
He hated himself a little for not quite being able to believe it.