Out of all the alcoholic beverages that he had been forced to drink with Max, Loki decided that he liked cider the best. Beer reminded him of a weaker form of Asgardian ale and the harsher Vodkas and Rums made him feel like absolute garbage the following morning. Cider, however, had a smooth aftertaste, and thus far hadn't left him inebriated beyond recognition. He wondered if he hadn't been as affected by alcohol lately because he had some of his former ability back: strength, magic, power. H didn't really have the desire to figure it out. What he did have a desire for – currently – was to yank Max off the stage before she really regretted her actions.
He leaned back against the countertop as the bartender rummaged through her machine for Loki's change: he had pulled the longest straw and was therefore required to buy the group their next pitcher. Most of them were expecting beer and would surely be disappointed when he returned with cider, but that was the risk they took when they put him in charge of their drinking experience. He smiled briefly when the barkeeper set his plastic pitcher of cider in front of him, and then turned his gaze back toward Max. She looked and sounded absolutely ridiculous, but at least she was having fun.
It was Saturday night, and although he would have preferred a night of rest, Max dragged him along to a karaoke night at a nearby bar with Ben's house and their girlfriends. It could have been worse – he could have hated them all. However, at this point in his stint on Earth, he had actually become somewhat fond of everyone aside from Ben and Erica, which meant these sorts of outings were tolerable, sometimes even fun. He didn't particularly think listening to horribly intoxicated people belt out popular songs to be "fun", but thus far it had been fairly entertaining.
It was a few days away from the month of March now, which meant there was a continued lull in school assignments. Loki had stopped trying to do well in his classes weeks ago, focusing more so on the renewal of his powers and his assignments with the Avengers (as much as that made him grind his teeth together), but it was Max who was finally getting out of a stressful state. She had finished the week by handing in three papers, all of which had kept her exceptionally busy and Loki exceptionally bored. He was proud to have a woman on his arm who cared so much about her academics, but it left him in a bit of a rut when she stopped paying attention to him.
Mercifully enough, his boredom ended when she returned home from classes the previous day in a remarkably improved mood, and Loki managed to persuade her to call in sick from work so that they could spend the rest of the evening in bed. It hadn't taken much cajoling to get her to agree to the idea, and they made up for their lack of togetherness by fucking until she simply couldn't anymore. He was able to keep her in his bed until noon, but she eventually shrugged him off in favour of getting a jumpstart on another assignment she had looming in the near future.
And then here they were—at a bar, drinking, and listening to terrible singers ruin famous tunes. Max and Corey had been dragged up to the small stage area by Erica, and were currently howling a somewhat drunken rendition of Wings by some peppy British girl group. Corey, shockingly enough, sounded the best out of the trio, and Loki fully intended to tell his woman that she ought to keep her yowling confined to the shower.
Pitcher in hand, he worked his way through the crowded space, using his height to hold the sacred cider over all those who veered too close. The bar was crawling with college students, most of whom were drunk enough to actually enjoy Max's singing, and he wished he could have joined the group playing darts across the way—it was something he was actually quite good at. Instead, he managed to get back to the group's large semi-circular booth with his drink intact.
"Finally!" Garret waved him over as he approached. "Please tell me you haven't been missing this performance?"
Loki glanced over his shoulder at Max and then rolled his eyes. "It would be difficult to ignore, I'm afraid."
"What did you get?" Tiffany asked as he set the pitcher down in the middle of the round table. He then slid in next to Ben, who seemed quite entertained by the outrageous performance across the bar.
"Cider—"
"Ugh, you and your cider," the woman groaned. However, despite her protests, she still dragged the pitcher across the table and poured herself a glass; Loki smirked. He took a small sip once Tiffany passed him his refilled cup, and then relaxed against the plush leather backing of the booth. Out of all the establishments they had visited in Masonville, Loki decided he liked this bar the best: it was small, cheap, and generally pretty quiet—on days without karaoke, mind you.
A quick glance at Ben made Loki's eyes narrow: although the man seemed mesmerized by Erica's makeshift karaoke group, it was Max he was staring at. The man grinned when Max did a little jump, fumbling over her words as the other two carried on, and Loki resisted the urge to grasp him by the hair and slam his head down on the somewhat sticky table.
"She's quite good, isn't she?" Loki said when he leaned in closer, making Ben flinch. The man swallowed, the large bump in his throat bobbing noticeably, and then feigned a confused expression.
"What?"
"Erica," he continued, nodding toward the man's lady with an arched eyebrow. "She has a better voice than I expected."
"Oh, right," the man said with a nod. "Yeah, she's always full of surprises."
"Hmm."
Loki wasn't sure what Ben's angle had been lately. After all, his truce with Max still stood strong –neither spoke about the other's relationship as far as Loki was aware – and now that there was peace between Erica and Max, it seemed he could carry on with his woman without any interruptions. And yet, this wasn't the first time he had caught Ben staring at Max when the man thought no one was looking. Although he had no reason to feel envy, Loki did. Her feelings for that ridiculous wisp of a man were strong, despite the drama, and he disliked the idea of her favouring him.
Well, that and the fact that Ben clearly knew something about Loki's true self, and he wanted to be the one to break the news to Max when the time was right. If Ben took that opportunity away from him, there would be serious repercussions.
When Max and company's horrible rendition of Wings finally came to an end, Loki eased out of the booth to allow Erica to sit next to her man—he preferred Max and Ben to have as many human barriers as possible.
"That was awful," he told Max was they settled into the booth, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She poked her tongue out at him and then gave a nervous laugh, her voice somewhat breathy.
"Fuck you. I was awesome."
"Oh, darling, not even close to that," he insisted with a chuckle. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek, which she leaned into, and then busied himself with her drink.
"Don't lie," she ordered when he set a full glass down in front of her. "You're just jealous that you don't have a set of pipes like me."
"Hardly." He placed a kiss to her temple as she smiled; some days it was difficult not to be affectionate with this ridiculous woman, especially when she wore dark blues.
"Alright, are you ready for an actual performance?" Garret asked as he scooted his way out of the booth.
"Please don't do a Phillip Phillips song," Tiffany said, her arms folded as she watched the man straighten his shirt out. "It's so boring to listen to the same songs—"
Then, out of nowhere, the man kissed her, a hand cupping her cheek as she flailed a little. Max chuckled at Loki's side.
"No matter what Garret sings, it's going to sound better than us," she insisted once the man toddled off toward the stage.
"Ha!" Loki tugged at the ends of her hair playfully at the omission, and she tried to swat him away. "So you admit that you were awful?"
"Hey, we were a step above awful," Corey interjected. "I think we were a step above the apple juice you brought back from the bar."
"That's what you get when you put Loki in charge of our drinks," Max giggled, placing a hand on his chest and smirking. "He drops the ball and gets piss—"
"It is much better than you make it out to be," he grumbled, his eyes narrowing again on the duo.
"I like it!" It was Erica who came to his defense, and he offered her a thankful nod. Max rolled her eyes, though the gesture was hardly as hateful as it might have been before she and Erica had made peace.
"Regardless, Garret's rendition of whatever won't be as harsh on your pretty little ears," Max cooed at him, which made Loki scoff. She wasn't especially drunk at this point, but she had enough alcohol in her to make her tongue a little looser.
"And why is that?"
"Garret's in the music program," she said with a laugh. Loki's eyes drifted toward the stage and he spied Garret speaking to the fellow who managed to actual karaoke machine. "By definition, he needs to be at least above mediocre."
"Ah."
He retracted his arm from her shoulders when he thought he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. However, when he unlocked the screen, there were no new messages or calls, and he tucked it away shortly thereafter. He hadn't heard from any of the Avengers in a few days, which was a rarity. Although he wasn't as focused on his tasks now that he had discovered the Thailand bodies, Stark still saw fit to monitor his activities and check in almost daily. However, it had been quiet for several days and nights, and Loki was grateful: let the heroes of this realm manage their mess alone. Loki had his own set of challenges to overcome, and while he was less unwilling to be of assistance now, he preferred to stay out of Avengers debacles.
"Hi everyone, hello…"
Loki frowned as he faced the stage: rather than singing, Garret was speaking. Now, he wasn't especially familiar with the strange phenomenon, but he knew that karaoke at its very core involved singing.
"I know you're all here for karaoke…" The man wiped his forehead, seemingly hot beneath the bright glare of the stage light. "Well, that and two-dollar pitchers of Heineken—"
That managed to bring about a few cheers from a table of men near the back exit, and Garret used the thick black microphone to toast them.
"I know, right? Sweet deal here for a Saturday night," he continued.
"What is he doing?" Loki asked softly, speaking in hushed tones in Max's ear. The woman shrugged, eyes fixated on her friend.
"I don't know."
"Uhm, I'm not really the guy to do this sort of thing," Garret said, "but I wanted to take a minute to point out this amazing woman back there… Her name is Tiffany, and I've somehow had enough dumb luck to keep her for the last six years." Loki glanced at the woman, who—even in the darkness—seemed to have gone a little pink around the cheeks. "We had our anniversary last week, and we did what we always do… Movie and dinner. She's… Guys, she's amazing."
"Oh my god, shut up," Tiffany croaked as heads started to swivel back to look at her.
"I talked to my mom that day, and she kept asking me why I haven't married her yet." There was a crack in the man's voice when he spoke, and Loki watched his hand drift down to his pocket. "And honestly, I didn't have an answer. She told me that I'm never going to find a woman like her, and she's right. I'm never going to love anyone as much as I love her, and I'm never going to find someone who puts up with all my bullshit like she does."
"Holy shit… He's proposing," Max muttered, her hands over her mouth. Most of the bar had fallen silent, aside from the trio of girls playing pool at the back, clearly too drunk to notice what was happening.
"I know we laugh about stuff like this," Garret said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "We said we would never do something public, because these things end up on Youtube and people laugh about the guy being a nervous wreck, but… here we are, and I couldn't let it go on for another day. I can't keep going without you."
He turned and handed the microphone to the man slightly offstage, and then hopped down. He wove his way around the few tables that stood between their booth and the stage, and when Loki looked at Tiffany, he saw the woman was crying—smiling like a simpleton, but crying all the same. The group seemed to hold their breath as Garret dropped down to one knee in front of her, presenting a small ring with a hopeful expression on his face.
"I know you're embarrassed," he told her, "but I don't care. I couldn't wait… I just… I couldn't anymore."
"I know," she said shakily.
"Tiffany Elliston," Garret began, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. "Will you marry me?"
The bar erupted in such a thunderous ruckus when the woman nodded her head that Loki thought there was a brawl taking place. People banged their fists on tables, shouting and whooping as Garret slid the ring on his lady's finger and dragged her into an embrace. Max was on her feet shortly after, and Loki was almost pushed out of the booth as Erica and Ben hurdled by him in order to get at their friends. The bar itself seemed to settle after a moment or so, but Loki watched his companions hug one another with such love and affection that he was forced to look away.
When Garret was no longer being mauled by his roommates, Loki extended his hand to him, which the man grasped.
"Congratulations," he said earnestly. "It seems this is how it was always supposed to be."
"Thanks, man."
And he meant it. He had seen marriage arrangements announced between couples whose families saw fit to do the matchmaking, and he had heard about marriages founded by love alone. However, growing up in a royal court, Loki rarely saw the latter, and it was strangely touching to witness it firsthand.
"Can we please have something better to drink to celebrate?" Tiffany demanded, her voice high and shaky. Loki almost rolled his eyes: even amidst the excitement, someone had found a way to insult his choice of drink.
"Yes, yes, Loki and I will correct his mistake," Max insisted, taking him by the hand and tugging him away from the table. When they were in an area with enough space, she did a little twirl in front of him, using his hand as an anchor to spin from. When she looked up at him, her smile was infectious. "This is so exciting!"
"Yes, I'm very happy for them," Loki admitted, pulling her to the side slightly so that she wouldn't knock into another bar patron. "I have never seen a man propose marriage like that…"
"I don't really think he had a plan." She laughed at the thought, her fingers intertwined with his, and led him toward the bar. "What should we get?"
"Whatever everyone would like," Loki droned, which earned him a look. He made himself comfortable on a barstool, feet able to rest on the floor, and drummed his fingers on the countertop. "Get whatever you'd like."
He then reached into his back pocket and set his wallet in front of her, which she took and held close to her chest, eyes scanning the beer list and teeth nibbling on her lower lip. Some days, this woman was a goddess. He never would have associated a human with such a status before, but occasionally he slipped and let his mind think it. No one else, mind you, had such an honour, and when Max learned the truth, she would be undoubtedly flattered at just how high he held her above the rest.
"I wonder when they're going to do the wedding?" she mused after placing her order and setting a ten dollar bill on the counter. She then stood between his legs, a hand resting on each knee, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "Be my date when they do?"
"Of course." He trailed his knuckles over a wave in her hair, and then studied her when she turned back to sort out the change left by the bartender.
All of these people had such bland lives, and yet they found immense joy in such simple things. Here they were, two people at their happiest, and Loki realized their wedding would have no influence on the outcome of this world. The grandiose wedding of Garret and Tiffany would not be recorded in any history books, nor would people around the realm speak of it. It was simply an engagement. It was two people in love—spectacularly in love. They would eventually join their lives, have children, and carry on into this world together.
It was so simple, and yet it seemed that tonight everything had changed for them. He had had lifetimes more experience than these people, and yet when had he ever had a moment so profound? What had he accomplished after traveling the universe and leading an army? After sitting on Asgard's throne? Nothing. There was nothing in his life right now that would make him feel the way Garret and Tiffany felt in that very moment.
"Do you want to get married?" he asked when Max turned back to him. Her eyebrows shot up and she grinned, giving his chest a poke.
"Are you asking me? Two proposals in one night?" His jaw dropped a little, and he hastily licked his lips. Max, however, cut him off before he could babble through his moment of panic. "Relax, I'm kidding."
"Right."
"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I want to get married… I want the marriage and the two-point-five kids and a nice career on top."
"You want children?"
"Why not?" She tucked her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "I mean, I don't really like other people's kids that much, but I've heard when you have your own, they're tolerable."
He gawked at her, momentarily thrown by her opinion on children, but when she laughed he realized she was poking fun at him again. There were moments in their relationship in which he felt Max was a giant child herself, and it shouldn't surprise him in the slightest that she might want children someday.
"You're exquisite," he muttered when she leaned in for another peck. He held her there, a hand in her hair, and she tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss. When he felt the tips of her fingers dance along his jawline, he loosened his grip on her, remembering where they were and why they were there.
"Yeah," she said with a snort, rolling her eyes a little, "I'm every guy's dream girl."
He said nothing about her sarcasm, and instead reached around her to take the pitcher from the barkeeper before she could.
"After this drink, let's go home," he told her, leaning down to meet her stare. "I'd like to go home."
"Would you?" she asked as she sauntered slowly back toward the table, her arm wrapped around his waist. "I mean… home home."
He caught her meaning without any further explanation, though perhaps Max didn't truly know what she meant by asking that question. However, without missing a beat, Loki nodded.
"I'd like to go home." To a place that he could actually call home—whether it be Asgard or another realm of his choosing. "But I don't want to go alone."
"Well, no one wants to go alone," she said, pinching his side softly. "You don't ever have to be alone if you don't want to."
He stopped them sharply enough that the beer jostled dangerously in the pitcher. "I don't want to do it alone… Not anymore." He couldn't.
Max's forehead crinkled when she frowned slightly, and she pushed herself up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I know."
"Oh my god, come on," Tiffany bellowed from the table, spoiling whatever moment they were sharing. "Let's get some alcohol over here!"
"Is he driving you to drink already?" Max asked, a finger crooked through Loki's belt loop as she dragged him back toward the table. "Not a good sign, Garret."
"I'm surprised she hasn't started sooner, to be honest," the man laughed. Loki set the pitcher down and took up his previous seat, watching his woman as she filled seven plastic cups with whatever she had ordered.
"I'd like to make a toast then," Max said, raising her cup and grinning at the happy couple. "To Garret and Tiff, and to love… and to an open bar at the wedding!"
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
So this chapter was originally going to end differently – I had plans for Loki and Max to get it on outside the bar after having feels and whatnot, but as I was writing it, a sex scene felt really forced and out of place. And seeing as I'm not one to write a sex scene for absolutely zero purpose at all (I will write them for relationship advancement and plot movement, obviously), I opted out of writing it. I dunno. Maybe it would have worked. Maybe not. But as I was going, it just didn't feel like that's what was happening with this chapter. Plus, when I originally planned this chapter weeks ago, I felt a bit like it was out of character for Max to screw someone out back behind a bar. So. Here we are – you are privy to my internal editor.
Some of you have expressed your love for Garret and Tiffany, and I figured you should see how hard I ship them. Is it sad to fangirl your own characters? Anyway. I got all misty-eyed writing the proposal – probably because I was listening to sappy music and thinking of my Gar-Tiff feels and their future.
Guyz. Eight chapters left. I mean, eight chapters and then a sequel that currently seems equally long if not longer, plus another sequel. So. It's coming to an end, but then picking right the fuck back up! I'm excited. For those of you who like spoilery things – I have one more chapter (though, maybe two, now that I think about it) that seems like filler/fluff/whatever, and then stuff starts getting down to business. Biz-ness.
Anyway. So much love for all the kind reviews and thoughtful messages and silent lurking! They really help me motivate myself when I know you guys are out there! LOVE.
