It was Tuesday morning and the day began for Loki in the same way that it had begun every day for the past week: with Jarvis blasting out 'Stupid Cupid' from the concealed speakers in the walls, but only in his room/cell somewhere within Stark Tower. It didn't seem fair to Loki that he was the only one being antagonised in this way, not that he had anything personal against the golden voice of Connie Francis, but it was every single day and was the kind of song in which only one line would stick inside your head and play on repeat.

Stupid Cupid, stop picking on me!

Indeed. He had not been able to stop thinking about Captain Steve Rogers from the moment he had been hit by the arrow. Before he had ridiculed the solider, now he wanted to know every last little detail, as well as do certain pleasurable things with him. It was as exhilarating as it was infuriating.

Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy! I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly!

Obviously Stark was behind the hilarious prank, or perhaps prank was not the right word for it. Perhaps he didn't intend for it to be mere japery. Maybe it was low level torture designed to interrupt his sleep and gradually drive him mad. Or madder. Well, it wouldn't work because he hadn't been sleeping much anyway and was always awake before the daily performance of 'Stupid Cupid' could start.

I'm in love and it's a crying shame

The room was small and comfortless, but functioned well enough as a cell once the extremely tough armour plates (at least Stark had assured him that they were unbreakable. Loki doubted it) had been placed permanently over the windows, blocking his view of the outside world. If Loki had to guess he would say that the room had been intended for a servant and not a very picky one at that.

There was a narrow bed and a tiny en-suit bathroom and nothing else, but those things were all Loki needed to be a prisoner, so he was more or less content, leaning strongly to the less side. And to allow him to move from the bed to the bathroom he had been furnished with a very basic, rickety wheelchair.

He was also being constantly monitored. No surprises there. Not only was the every floating presence of Jarvis, but there was also a large number of hidden cameras and microphones, and then there was Derek the Iron Drone. The robotic guard was rooted to the spot in front of the door and tracked Loki's every movement, its head swivelling about on its neck. If Loki moved too close to the door it would raise its hands and issue a stark Stark warning, 'Move back or get your ass handed to you on a platter.'

The Avengers had promised him that he would be granted a few more luxuries once – if - he started to cooperate with them, but that time had not come yet. They didn't trust him and he really didn't trust them. By cooperate they meant that he must do everything they told him to, which was a big ask of someone who had once run away from home after being told to close his bedroom door.

They wanted to look at his stump, but he wouldn't allow them to. He already knew it was a disgusting mess. He knew that the bone had been cut jagged and not rounded off, he knew that the nerves had not been cut back far enough, he knew that it was infected.

So, what could the mortals possibly do to fix all that with their medieval methods? He was immune to anaesthetics, meaning surgery was not option. So unless Odin was willing to use dark magic to teleport a Healer to Earth – which Loki knew he would not be – his body would have to remain an increasingly sickly mess.

Yet somehow his mind was in worse shape than his body.

They wanted to answers to all their questions, but he couldn't answer them. Thanos had demanded his silence, used the sceptre to place a block in his mind. If he could find a way to break through...

Besides, there was Steve Rogers in his mind, on his brain, occupying his every waking and sleeping moments. Wonderful, wonderful Steve Rogers filling up the space in his mind, pushing all the darkness aside.

It was both maddening and hurtful that Steve had not visited him once. Perhaps in hindsight forcibly kissing the captain had not been the best idea, after all Steve was a modest man. Passionately kissing him in front of all those soldiers might have embarrassed him.

But he had been unable to resist. They had just returned to Stark Tower and Steve had been holding him upright, one arm tightly wrapped around his waist. He had also looped Loki's arm over his shoulders so that they were standing with their faces so close together that he could feel Steve's sweet smelling breath tickling his cheek, and so he had just gone for it. It had felt glorious to him, to lock lips with the most handsome man in the universe, but had mortified everyone else present.

Once the soldiers had pulled him off he could see that Cap had looked shocked, horrified, definitely embarrassed. He would be more subtle next time. If there was a next time. Ye gods, please let there be a next time.

He wasn't the only one to be shocked by Loki's affection. Thor had not taken the news so well when Cap had told him that Loki had been hit by a golden arrow fired by someone called Eros...

'EROS' GOLDEN ARROW?! Eros' golden arrow!' Thor shrieked, hands in his hair. He stumbled backwards looking between Loki and Steve. 'You mean you...and him...ODIN'S BEARD!'

He summoned Mijolnir to his hand and flew straight out of a window. Thunder boomed, lightening flashed. People screamed angrily in protest, 'Hey, we're trying to clean up here!' No one saw Thor for two hours.

Steve ran to the window. 'Thor, wait! Who's Eros?'

He was not pleased when Tony gleefully told him that Eros was Cupid (Steve knew about him from Valentine's Day).

Loki felt his stomach clench up in anxiety at the thought of never seeing Steve Rogers again. Surely he would come. He was not a cruel man, but kind and thoughtful and just absolutely perfect.

Hey, hey, set me free! Stupid Cupid, stop picking on me!

Finally Stupid Cupid had come to an end, which meant Thor would arrive soon with a bowl of morning gruel. He thought back to the moment he had been hit by the arrow, the moment when everything had changed for him.

There had been a terrible but brief jolt of pain as the world spun and blurred around him. When it stilled, there was only Steve Rogers standing against a backdrop of blue sky and slowly falling cherry blossom petals (visual hallucination), their sweet scent filling the air (olfactory hallucination).

Loki had been captivated by his face, his eyes widening to memorise every detail of his features. Those bright blue eyes, delicate nose and bow shaped lips.

And for some reason there had been the angelic voice of Ilene Wood softly singing, So This Is Love from Disney's Cinderella (bizarre audio hallucination)– an odd side effect of the arrow that was particular only to Loki and no one would ever figure out why.

His heart had pounded as Steve held his muscular arms wrapped around him – when was the last time he had felt so safe? - and slowly lowered him to the floor. There had been a single shaft of sunlight falling in between the tree branches creating a halo around Steve's blonde brown hair. Ye gods, he was a beautiful man.

He just had to see him again, no matter what.

AN: Connie Francis recorded 'Stupid Cupid' in 1958. 'So This is Love' was written for Cinderella in 1950.

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