RATING: T
GENRE: Modern/Non-Magical AU, College AU, Humor, Romance
PROMPT: chiaworlds requested on Tumblr: "Of you still accept prompt, no 34 (spin the bottle) for lokane, please"
SUMMARY: After learning that Jane has led a sheltered life, Darcy introduces her to an important rite of passage that she's missed: Spin the Bottle.

SEVEN MINUTES

Jane's having second thoughts as Darcy drags her down the stairs leading to the basement of somebody's house. There's a faint haze of smoke at the base, a mixture of burning tobacco and something slightly more mood-altering. Muted voices and the quiet strains of a guitar sound as they enter the dim room.

The place looks like a storage room for thrift store rejects with a worn, mismatched couch and loveseat, covered with a hodgepodge of crocheted afghans that might have been trendy in the 1970's. The finish on the coffee table is scuffed, dotted with dozens of overlapping ring marks—those Jane can see beneath the bottles set in a haphazard collection, a bong or two among them. The guitar player sits on a lumpy futon in the corner, dark, wavy hair veiling his face as he plucks a morose tune. Others are sprawled across the sofas or sitting cross-legged on the floor, gazes locked on the video game someone is playing.

"Darcy!" A tall, bearded guy stands up from the loveseat and nimbly steps over the legs of the others to greet the petite girl with a crushing embrace. After he releases her, he turns his gaze on Jane. "You've brought a friend!"

"Yep," Darcy agrees, curling an arm around Jane's shoulders. "This is my friend, Jane. Jane, this is Fandral."

Fandral takes Jane's hand and, with a flourishing bow, places a kiss over the top of her knuckles. "Pleasure," he says with a wide smile.

She can't help smiling back. He gives off a "ladies man" vibe, but there's something utterly likeable about him. Or maybe it's a contact high from the thin fog trapped in the room

"Everyone!" Fandral shouts. "Say hi to Jane!"

The others glance up, giving her a bare nod or a simple "s'up" before returning to the game. The guitar player doesn't bother to pause his angsty tune.

"That's Thor," Darcy says, pointing at one of the two behemoths leaning forward, controllers gripped in thick hands. "And next to him is Peter." She rattles off other names, gesturing toward the group. Volstagg, Hogun, Sif, Gamora, and others Jane doesn't quite catch. Darcy nods toward the musician in the corner. "I think you actually know Loki."

Jane's stomach drops at the name. Loki chooses then to look up, eyes locking with hers, his expression unreadable. A beat passes, then he's back to his music, fingers dancing over the strings in another mournful melody. Her jaw clenches at his dismissal. Ugh. So arrogant. But then, what else can she expect?

"Bull shit."

Jane whipped around in her seat to find the source of the rude interruption. She'd just finished giving an impeccable explanation supporting the latest theory of Dark Energy. "Excuse me?"

A lanky student in the back of the room leaned forward. He wore dark clothes, raven hair tied back at the nape of his neck. His skin was pale in stark contrast, and he interlaced fingers painted with black lacquer, smirk playing on his features. "I said: Bull. Shit." He stared at her with a dare written in his angular features.

"While I encourage healthy debate in class, Mister…" Professor Selvig left space for the egotistical jerk to fill in the blank.

"Loki Laufeyson," he answered, gaze never wavering from Jane.

"Mister Laufeyson, you'll need to back up your rebuttal with more than bovine excrement."

Loki's smile stretched wider. "Oh, I've plenty more to say."

"What's this, dudes?" Darcy asks, shaking Jane out of that awful memory. "I promised Jane a real party! She's never been to one before."

Loki glances up again, brow raised, and Jane wishes a vortex would suddenly appear and suck her into another universe. One where she wasn't homeschooled thanks to her father's constant travels, where she actually experienced normal things like spring formals and sneaking out with friends in the middle of the night. A universe where Loki isn't practically screaming "pathetic little nerd" with the corner of his mouth tipped up. Even better: a universe where he doesn't exist at all.

"Gee, thanks" she mutters to Darcy, but her friend ignores her.

"We need better music—and no more video games." Darcy pulls out her phone. "Where's your bluetooth speaker, Fandy? We've got to dance! Oh, and get Jane something to drink!"

"No, I don't—" Jane tries to object.

"Yes, you are," Darcy says. "You skipped over all these vital rites of passages, and I'm the spirit guide who's gonna get you back on track!"

Jane kind of regrets that she confided in her friend during closing at the coffee shop they both work at. Darcy's horror over Jane's sheltered childhood has turned into a mission.

Loud, bass-heavy music fills the space, and Jane is handed a plastic cup half-filled with something the color of amber. Darcy stares her down until she takes a tentative sip. She scrunches her nose in disgust. It tastes awful, and it burns, but Darcy is tipping the cup back up by the base. Each swig that Jane gulps down is a smidgen less terrible, but that might be because her tongue is going numb.

Her brain is too, just a little.

Dancing is a blur, a mess of bodies and limbs moving to that thumping beat. Someone moved the coffee table, pushed the sofas back, and everyone converged on each other in the center. No, not everyone. Loki stands just outside, his arms crossed over his chest, features slack in a bored expression.

Feeling bold, Jane disentangles herself from the others and steps up to him, barking a laugh. "Who's the sad nerd now?" she shouts over the din.

His eyes narrow and, without warning, he grabs the sides of her shirt, yanking her into him. "By all means, let's dance."

She shoves at him, but he keeps a tight grip on her waist as he drags her into the gyrating group.

She's saved when Darcy abruptly yells, "Oh my god! How could I…? Shut off the music!"

The silence that follows is jarring as everyone waits for Darcy to explain. "Spin the bottle!" she says.

"Darcy." Gamora rolls her eyes—least, Jane's pretty sure that one's Gamora. "We're not in middle school anymore."

"Yeah, but here me out," Darcy says. "Jane's never been to a party, like ever ever. Not the awkward tween ones. Not the underage-drinking-in-high-school ones. She really needs to catch up with the rest of us young adults. Plus, it'll be fun! OH! And we can do Seven Minutes in Heaven, too!"

Jane's cheeks flush with heat. She may not have participated in these "rites of passages" as Darcy called them, but she knows about them. And she is not kissing a stranger. No. Nuh-uh.

As if reading her thoughts, Darcy grabs her hand and pulls her down to the floor with her. "Come one," Darcy murmurs. "One time, okay? I promise I'll never ask you for anything ever again."

Jane gives her a flat look.

"Okay, okay," Darcy says, raising her hands. "I promise I'll never ask you to do this again." She turns back to the group settling around them in a circle. "The question is: public displays of affection or locked in a dark closet for seven minutes?"

Jane glances at Loki as the debate ensues and he stares back at her, wearing that stupid smirk. For a breath, she's tempted to grab the empty bottle on the floor at chuck it at him. She hates his attractive face so much right now. That might be the alcohol talking, but she doesn't care.

"Okay!" Darcy claps. "It's the player's choice, then. Let's do this!" She reaches for the bottle and sends it into a lazy spiral. The narrow end slows to point at Fandral, and Darcy lets out a little cheer. She leans forward and he meets her in the middle with a kiss that only gives Jane a twinge of discomfort.

Okay, maybe this isn't going to be so bad.

Others are paired up by the bottle, and no one opts for the closet. Volstagg grabs Hogun by the shirt and plants and quick, sloppy kiss on him. Sif and Gamora's lip-lock has the guys whooping. Jane holds her breath when it's Loki's turn to spin.

Please, don't let it be me. Please, don't let it be me.

The bottle stops on her, and he bears his teeth in a predatory grin that sends a chill down her spine.

"Closet!" she shouts, voice trembling. She blushes as all eyes fall on her. "Um, I want the seven minutes." Too late, she realizes how that sounds—especially when Loki raises his brows in twisted delight—but it's the only way she can get out of actually kissing him.

"Jumping into the deep end. I like it!" Darcy beams in approval as she stands and crosses to the far corner of the room. She opens a door, glances inside, and says, "There's enough room in there."

Jane swallows down the anxiety swirling in her gut and marches up to Loki, who hasn't moved an inch. "Too chicken?"

He shakes his head. "No," he says, rising to his full height. "I thought I'd give you a chance to change your mind."

"Nope." She walks to the closet, not waiting for his response.

Her heart stops when the door shuts behind him. It's pitch-black in here, and she holds her arms in front of herself to ward him off should he go in for the kill. He doesn't though, and a beat or two passes before he broaches the silence with a whisper.

"First time?"

"No," she shoots back quietly. It's not, though her first time hardly counts. It was at an international STEM conference for teens. She can't even remember the guy's name now, but the kiss had been pretty lack-luster—kind of gross if she's being honest. She hasn't had any real interest in repeating the experience since.

"I suppose we'd better get to it," he murmurs, and she can feel him inch closer.

"Stop," she says. "We are not kissing. We're not doing anything."

"Oh?" He breathes a soft, raspy laugh that brushes against her cheek. He smells minty and clean despite his perpetually disheveled appearance. "Too chicken?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears as she's frozen with indecision. She doesn't want him to win. He'll be smug about her not kissing him, but then he'll be smug if she does. Gah! She despises him.

"You wish," she says, then tentatively reaches for him. Her hands find the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and she pulls him toward her.

He comes willingly, fingers brushing across her shoulders and up her neck until they settle on her jaw. She braces herself for contact, for that drooling suction she'd experienced before, but his lips on hers isn't like that at all. It's gentle, a caress that sends an electrical current through her entire body in crackling jolts. Oh, god. Oh, god.

This is what it's supposed to be like?

He tilts his head, and somehow the angle has her gasping against his mouth. The kiss becomes more insistent, urgent, like she's drowning and he's the only air she can breathe. And it's still not enough. She's clawing at him, desperate to get closer, and his hands are at the back of her thighs, lifting her up as he presses her against the wall. More. She needs more .

"Hot damn! "

Loki breaks off the kiss, and Jane becomes aware that the door is open, Darcy standing on the other side, eyes wide with shock. Loki glances over his shoulder, then back at Jane. He draws a line across his lip with the pad of his thumb and grins as he steps back, letting Jane drop down on her own feet.

"This game is far more fun than I remember it being," he says. "Let's play again soon, darling."

He leaves without another word.

Jane covers her face with a groan. What has she done?

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Drop me a review! I love to hear from readers. XD