Thor took magnanimously the knowledge that in the time he and his mortal woman were separated she fell in love with Agent Coulson. "It would be churlish to demand you never cast your gaze about when you had no knowledge of my return, and when we spent such a short time together," he told Jane Foster before wrapping her in a brotherly hug. "I would that we were friends."
About a week after, Loki caught Thor pushing the Captain against a wall, lifted off the floor with his legs wrapped around his waist, deep in a kiss. He raised his eyebrows. "At least he will not have to fear snapping you like a twig, as he would with that little girl he was once enamored with," he commented dryly.
"I hope we have not troubled you, Loki," Thor said with earnest puppy-eyes, though he did not move out of position.
"I wish the best to you, Thor, and also to you, Captain Rogers," Loki said with a wave of the hand.
The mortal coughed. "You really can call me Steve."
"All right, Steve."
Unfortunately when Loki detoured on his way to the kitchen and went through the recreation room instead of that particular hallway, he ran into Banner and Stark watching a television show, entwined, Stark petting Banner's hair. It wasn't anything obscene, of course, but the sheer tenderness of it brought a lump into Loki's throat.
And as he scurried, unnoticed, past the archery range, he could hear the unmistakable noises of the teammate who disliked him most engaging in coitus with his only child. He gritted his teeth and continued his path.
"What's all this, then?" Stark asked about two hours later.
"I thought I'd make lunch, since everyone was busy," Loki replied, trying to seem casual.
"You've made twenty-three sandwiches. And they've got garnishes."
Loki noticed he was putting an olive on a toothpick and promptly hid both behind his back. "Thor always had a healthy appetite. And Banner's a...growing...man...sometimes."
Stark picked a sandwich off the plate. Well, half a sandwich; they were all neatly cut into diagonals. With the crusts cut off and set aside to make a big pan of bread pudding for dessert. Loki had a fondness for the Earth concoctions lumped together as "pudding", and the Doctor had taught him how to cook many things. "Not that anyone but some members of your family and that time-traveling alien are particularly fond of you, but even a smarmy dick like me doesn't want you to go off the deep end when it's something we could have prevented, okay? What's the deal?"
"I don't think you truly want to know."
Inspecting the sandwich - that one was smoked salmon with cream cheese on rye, with capers - Stark said, "Believe me, I do."
"Fine. On your own head be it." Loki took a deep breath. "I haven't had sex in several hundred years. Or, in fact, more than once."
Stark blinked. After a long pause, he asked, "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"But you're...I mean...not that I'm...but you're not exactly hard on the eyes or anything like that."
"Do you realize how shameful, freakish, and worthy of mockery it is on Asgard for someone to be both man and woman, as I am?"
Stark edged towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not saying it excuses what you've done, but damn. It makes a lot of sense now."
"Oh, shut up." Loki turned to the sink to wash the dishes. "You asked, now you know."
"There's a decent number of people who would actually either not care about how you're put together or find that a turn-on, you know."
"Ah, yes, and I'm sure all of you are happy for me to go seek them, as I am basically under house-arrest except when in battle. Honestly, Man of Iron, what opportunities would such as I have for love, or even lust?"
That's when the doorbell rang. Stark asked the security system, "JARVIS, who is it?"
"An individual calling himself 'Jack Harkness', sir, and he says he has a message for Loki," JARVIS replied cooly.
