A/N: Meant to upload this yesterday, family stuff got in the way, but anyway, enjoy the new chapter!


The Unopened Door - Chapter 4

This was... not going well. It was now obvious to Loki that the woman - the Black Widow - was not in her right mind, and he allowed himself only one guess as to why.

"Lady Romanoff-" he began, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"Agent," she interrupted, looking at him like a predator stalking her prey.

Loki backed up slowly, not exactly feeling like backing himself into a wall at the moment. "Agent Romanoff, I am certain my brother explained... what has been happening to me since you captured me?"

She nodded slowly, almost teasingly. "Oh yeah."

"And," he continued warily, "have you not considered that entering my cell might be evidence of your being influenced by this condition?"

She nodded again, stepping closer with every second. "Of course I have," she said.

Loki's back hit the wall, he winced but kept his eyes fixed on her. "Then, perhaps you might reconsider... interrogating me until you are - how shall I put it - in your right mind?"

She was only a step away now, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide. Her arms were still crossed in front of her, almost boredly, as if she were deciding what to do. But, unfortunately, Loki knew exactly what she would decide to do. She wouldn't be able to help herself.

"You know," Romanoff finally spoke, words soft, "I'm not a man."

Loki blinked rapidly at the odd and very obvious statement. He furrowed his brow, glad that she was no longer advancing. "I've...noticed... Why do you-"

"Because one way or another, this is happening." She closed the distance between them and pushed him back against the glass with one hand - which, unfortunately, was far too easy for her than it should be. "You can either," she looked around for a moment then leaned into him, "fight me, and give a pathetic display when you inevitably lose; or you can just... let it happen. Enjoy yourself, maybe?"

He swallowed, still staring at her. 'Enjoy yourself'? What did she think was going on? If he were any other man, that would perhaps be easy to do; but Loki wasn't like other men. Aside from that one time in his youth, he never bedded maidens the same way that Thor did - without first having an emotional connection, without having a relationship. And on top of that, there were few women in Asgard that were very interested in him in the first place, despite being a prince, he didn't exactly fit the Asgardian ideal for men. He had learned to live without certain physical pleasures - and more so given his condition; he really never felt that having a long-term relationship with anyone would work out well. It would complicate things too much for his liking. No, he had always been satisfied with his books and spells, had all but trained himself to ignore his sexual desires.

He mentally sighed. Perhaps he shouldn't have cut himself off from those desires so completely; it might make some encounters with these 'influenced' people easier.

"I-" he finally spoke, "I don't think that will be as easy as you... think it will be..." he stuttered.

She was breathing on him, an eager and dangerous look in her eyes. "Makes no difference to me," she muttered, then grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head and forced a kiss on him.

Caught off-guard, Loki fell into it, her warm lips pressing hard against his. She kept one hand fisted in his hair and the other looped into the front of his armor, holding him in place. Recovering quickly, he attempted to push her away, but, as he suspected, he was all but powerless to do so. Weaker even than a mortal woman! Loki had never felt so embarrassed and pathetic in all his life. At least being weaker than an Asgardian was nothing new, and given his newfound knowledge of his heritage perhaps even gave credence to it, but this...

He mumbled in protest, continuing to struggle. When a tongue slipped passed his teeth into his mouth, his immediate reaction was to bite at the intruder.

Suddenly she let go, a growl escaping as a hand went to her mouth. A devilish smile emerged next, bloody teeth greeting him. "That's not very nice, lover. But I like a little fight in a man."

He frowned in horror, how wonderful. He backed away against the cell's wall, futilely scooting away as the woman watched him in a half-crouch, as if ready to pounce any moment. Her smile didn't fade and it was becoming more unnerving as the seconds passed.

Briefly, Loki wondered if he should give in - at least he would feel less humiliated if it appeared consensual. And he was certain Thor wouldn't be coming to his rescue this time, this was an official interrogation - or at least it was probably meant to be. Romanoff's superiors no doubt sent her here to gather information, only they hadn't realized she was being influenced by his condition. So they've turned off their spying devices, then. Of course, why not?

The moment she lunged at him he sidestepped her, spinning, then in the next moment realized she was simply teasing him, since she gave an open-mouthed grin of excitement. Are all mortal women so aggressive? he absently wondered.

"There's nowhere to run..." she said, eyes bright with excitement and hunger. She slowly approached him and Loki wondered how successful he might be if he attacked her. Obviously she wasn't meant to be in here with him, which also meant that they were not being watched - if he could somehow subdue her... if not with brute strength then perhaps with simple fighting prowess. But how well would that work? From everything Barton had told him, Romanoff's physical fighting style seemed to match Loki's - speed and agility over strength, thus in the end, he or she with the greater strength would logically win. But perhaps his centuries of training would pay off? She was only a mortal, after all.

Unfortunately, in the next moment, Loki realized that the Widow had been having similar thoughts. Before he could even take the offensive she was on top of him, pinning him to the floor. He tried to wrap a leg around her neck to throw her off, but was startled when her forearm leaned against his throat, cutting off his air completely. He coughed and struggled, but couldn't find the strength to throw her off. With her other hand she grabbed his flailing right wrist and then kissed him on the forehead.

"Play nice," she teased. "I said I like a little fight, but I don't think I have time to play this game as long as I'd like to." She continued choking him, but before he blacked out she let up just enough to let him breathe, but didn't let him go completely.

Loki coughed and sputtered, feeling ridiculous that he was being bested by such a tiny mortal. What made it worse was that this had been his problem his entire life - the Asgardians' superior strength almost always won over his more agile style of warfare. Thor was an entirely different matter - he always won over everyone else, and he had Mjolnir, besides. Of course, perhaps Loki should have spent more time in the training circle rather than in the library studying his spells, but still... It didn't lessen his annoyance when he inevitable lost to his sparring partner whenever he did join the warriors in Asgard.

Without sufficient air passing through his lungs, Loki had a hard time focusing; his vision was blurry and his body felt weaker than before. He strained to breathe and tried to blink away his lack of energy, but what he really wanted to do was sleep.

It suddenly dawned on him that the assassin was trying to undo his trousers with her free hand. He frowned and sleepily tried to bat her away.

She chuckled and ignored his feeble attempts. "All this leather is pretty sexy but getting in and out of it must be a pain," she said musingly.

When the arm holding him down let up completely, Loki breathed in desperately, nearly choking on the air. Even so, he felt dizzy and he still couldn't breathe right, coughing furiously. He wondered if she had damaged his throat somehow - it seemed likely.

The next few moments went by so quickly Loki wondered if he had lost consciousness for some of it. He felt cool air and then suddenly her hands were on him, stroking him. He groaned in protest - at her warm hand on him, and at his body for responding.

He tried to sit up and push her away at the same time, but failed at both. He heard a half-moan, half-whine escape his closed lips and shut his eyes in humiliation. He heard her shushing him quietly, almost kindly and with concern, which just made it worse and somehow made him feel even more violated than for what her hands were doing to him.

Closing his eyes somehow made him feel better so he kept them closed, so tired, too tired to fight back anymore. His breaths were strained, ragged and he thought he might pass out - but he doubted he would be so fortunate.

When suddenly he felt her mounting him, he whined again and tried to slide away with his feet, but two hands on his shoulders stopped him. Then there was just tightness and warmness and he liked it and hated it and he grabbed her shoulders as she continued to hold him down. He didn't know if he was trying to stop her again or if he just needed something to brace himself against- it didn't matter. He held on tightly and couldn't bring himself to look at her, to look at anything, so he just kept his eyes closed.

The sensations of pleasure running through his body made him hate himself even more than he already did - made him hate his body. Like it had betrayed him and he couldn't do anything to stop how good it felt. He didn't want this but his body did and when a pleasured moan escaped him he clamped his mouth shut. Shut up! Shut up!

She was breathing hard and leaning over him, whispering something in his ear, holding his wrists - tighter and tighter. He heard her gasp and moan, so close to his face, he shuddered and turned his head, her breath like venom falling over him.

"Stop," he heard a voice say, and belatedly realized it was his own voice. Was he speaking to her, or to his own body?

Then suddenly, somewhere in the back of his mind, some place he didn't want to listen to, an idea began to form. An idea that made him angry, angry because he would have to acknowledge something he desperately didn't want to: that this wasn't her fault. It suddenly struck him that she was just as much a victim as he, that she had no more control over her own body than he did of his own.

His own release came so suddenly that his eyes went wide as he gasped and trembled between her chest and the floor. Her face was so close, too close, fire-burnt hair framing her face as it tickled his skin.

He barely registered whatever else happened afterward, too caught up in his new revelation; something that he utterly hated and didn't want to admit... but he couldn't not. If she had just raped him, he had just done the same in return.


Thor rushed into the room containing the glass cell, then stopped short of entering it when he caught sight of his brother, curled up with his knees against his chest and his back to the glass wall. His arms were draped over his knees and he hid his face behind them. And when Thor entered the cell carefully, quietly, Loki still did not move. The older god knew that the younger was aware of his presence, he hadn't been able to sneak up on Loki in centuries.

When the Lady Natasha had entered the bridge of the Helicarrier, head held high, Thor had thought she'd succeeded, only to hear a moment later that she had gotten nothing from the trickster. The director gave her a scrutinizing look, then asked her if she had gotten anything out of him. There was something in her eyes at the query, something akin to humor, almost a dark satisfaction lingering behind a mask of calm. Thor knew masks well, his brother of over a millennium a master at painting them.

And he had rushed here, to see what that look might have been, if his suspicions might prove true. But Loki was silent. Still. Not even an angry glare or disdainful sneer directed at him. Thor didn't like it.

"Brother?" Thor intoned.

Slowly, very slowly, the dark head lifted, ice-white face slowly coming into view, only to stop halfway, eyes still hidden. Then, in a quiet but eerily hard voice: "Don't you dare call me 'brother.'"

After a moment of staring, Thor noticed a slight shiver running through his brother - no. Not a shiver, or a tremble, but a shaking, as if from barely contained anger.

"Loki?" Thor tried, instead. "What... what has-"

"If you ask me what's happened, I will never speak to you again, brother." The face remained half-hidden. Thor was becoming worried, and more so with the way Loki had just spit out the word 'brother', as if it were a vile thing he had to release and never wanted back. "Don't you dare ask me..." he said softer, again hiding his face.

And Thor knew. He knew that it had happened again, happened to Loki because even after everything that had happened since Thor's failed coronation, Loki had never regarded him in such a way, as if he wished death on Thor more than anything... Well, he had seen this before, hadn't he? The nobleman- how could I have left him? He had begged me then... and now... Was there any difference?

Thor knelt on the floor in front of his brother but did not touch him as he desperately wanted to. "Loki... I-" But he didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to say, 'I'm sorry for leaving you... again.' Didn't know how to ask what had happened, because he knew what had happened, even if not in detail.

His hand lingered near the smaller god's elbow, wanting to touch, to comfort. And then suddenly, staring at the dark-haired head, and then at the slightly trembling shoulders, Thor couldn't help it anymore, he reached out, one hand for each of the thin arms, and pulled his brother to him.

Loki let him at first, limp and easily moved, but upon realizing what was happening, he lashed out angrily, thrashing. "How dare you!" he screamed, trying to loose himself from Thor's arms, pushing hard against the armored chest. "Don't you dare touch me! Let me go!"

Thor didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to make it better, so he just held on, trying to calm his little brother down with reassuring whispers in his ear.

"Stop!" Loki screeched, a few tears escaping his wrathful gaze. "You can't just do whatever you wish with me- you can't just hold me like I'm your brother! Not anymore... You don't have the right!"

"Loki-"

"No! Shut up, Thor!" Loki balled his fists between them as Thor held tightly, trying to force the other away with sheer force of will, but his face - his mask - was falling, slowly, slowly. "No... I'm not your brother... and you're not mine..." A few more tears fell. "He- she- they hurt me..." he furrowed his brow and grit his teeth. "You weren't there... never there." His eyes lifted to Thor, new droplets forming. "Why couldn't you just protect me?"

The god of thunder stared, every word that formed died before it could even live in the air. He swallowed, determined to force something out, anything. He couldn't let this hang between them, stuck in the frozen air and waiting to be thrown against him whenever Loki needed.

But he never got his chance, because something shook the walls and the floor. Alarms sounded loudly, pounding into his head and making him growl in annoyance as they both looked up.

"What is that?" Thor asked, still miffed.

Loki's frown turned to wide-eyed realization. "They're coming..." he whispered.


A/N: Soo, yeah. This was my first time writing female-on-male rape, hope it didn't come out weird or insensitive or something. I'm certainly not the type of person who thinks it's not possible, because people who think so are wrong and need to stop being 12 years old. Lol, sorry to sound huffy, I just hate double standards, on both ends. I also want to clarify that while canon!Loki (that is, comic book and mythology Loki) is fairly promiscuous, the Loki in this is sexually inexperienced and more or less asexual because of his 'condition'.

Review, anyone? :3