Loki can feel the looks on the back of his head, the eyes raking over him with scrutiny and judgement are practically palpable, and being untrusted is second nature to him. As is the reckless feeling in the pit of his stomach that's telling him to act out, that ever present ball of mischief that wants him to show them just how dangerous he could be, prove to them why he isn't someone to be trifled with.

He strolls through the ballroom of the elaborate castle, ignoring the crowds and the thick tension as he does, wearing his best outfit and his hair slicked back into loose curls that framed the mask he wore well. He may hate these sort of functions, the idiots who milled around vying for someone's attention and the vapid courts who pretended about everything, who wore airs of superiority and had nothing to back it up with, but Thor had asked him to visit Nornheim and strengthen their relationship, and what better way to do so than by making an impression at a masquerade ball?

Loki picks up a glass of something bubbling from a passing servant, and brings it to his mouth as a vicious smile spread across his lips, his eyes taking in the expansive room and lingering on the throne with a large man sprawled out upon it, making no effort to hide the hard frown on his face as his gaze rests upon Loki.

"And so it begins."

Peter holds Loki up as the man sags in his arms, panic rising in his throat as he looks like he's passing out right in front of him.

"Loki? Loki! Come on, answer me!" Peter shakes the man slightly, just trying to keep him from passing out, and he's slightly surprised when Loki snakes his arms around Peter's neck, practically draping himself over Peter, resting his head onto Peter's shoulder.

Peter hears him mutter something against his shoulder, but he can't make it out, he's just happy that Loki still has a slight hold on consciousness, even if he's not quite all there.

"Loki, what happened?" Peter awkwardly tries to maneuver the man over to his bed, even though he seems reluctant to leave Peter's arms. When Peter manages to untangle himself he tries to corral Loki across the room, almost trips over his own feet, stumbling into his nightstand along the way until Peter has to drape an arm around his shoulder and hold him up before gently dumping him onto the bed.

Peter finally gets a good look at him as he slouches onto the bed, eyes blinking up at him slowly and not quite focusing as he tries to talk, "Can't Pete… Er…" The words are slurred and messy, sounding like his mouth can't fully hold them properly.

Peter looks at him incredulously, "Are you… Drunk?"

This almost gets him a patented Loki Glare™, but it's missing heat and mostly just seems like he's staring at Peter, and then his eyes lose focus, and they slide closed before he just kind of slumps over until he's falling against Peter's bed, seemingly out cold.

Loki introduced himself to the king, he even played nice, relatively anyway. Despite the way the older man had stared down his nose at him from upon the throne, sending a chill up Loki's spine with how much it reminded him of being a child, looking at his own father in similar settings, the same look of distaste on his face.

Loki let his mask drift into place as he stated his business on behalf of his kingdom, on behalf of Thor of Asgard, showing respect to their place in the Nine Realms, and reinstating their own place as the ruler and protector of all those in the Nine Realms.

The man spoke little, diplomatically polite, but clearly not welcoming, which was fine with Loki, who wanted to wrap this up and be on his way as quickly as possible. He hadn't really planned on helping Thor rebuild Asgard, had wanted nothing to do with Asgard for so long, being a part of it felt so foreign, so out of place, he didn't know what to do with it.

But after helping the people escape Asgard, which, if he were being honest, was at least slightly born out of spite, being able to prove himself and show up to save the day, well what can he say, he'd always wanted the throne, and now his father was gone and his brother needed his help to rule, he couldn't really help himself. And if he had some fun along the way, who could blame him really.

So after bidding the snobby king a good night, Loki was planning on finding better sources of entertainment, when something caught his interest. Or rather, someone.

A young boy off to the side, hanging behind the throne, a small crown adorning his head amongst the light brown curls. He was watching the room with a keen eye, and a sparkle of something that Loki found calling to him. He was maybe 17, fairly young, not too young to fight battles of course, but in all other regards.

Loki glanced at the door, his plan of wanting to leave the stuffy room was still tempting, but something about the boy was calling to him, maybe it was the way his gaze lingered on the glasses of alcohol, or the way his father eyed him through his peripheral, while also pretending he wasn't there at all.

The whole scene was stirring something in Loki, something that usually pushed him to cause mischief and chaos. He ignored the exit for now, circling the room some more, and watching interested as the young boy almost imperceptibly nodded to a passing waiter, and Loki turned amused as the same waiter tripped, falling face first into the floor and sending their tray of drink scattering across the room, some of which caught on the throne and caused the king to jump angrily, barely keeping composure as he called for more servants to clean the mess up.

Loki sipped at his drink as he leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching as the boy behind the king held back a laugh before slipping off into the crowd, pulling the crown off of his curls just before sneaking out of one of the servant entrances.

Before Loki could think better of it, he downed his drink and followed the figure out into the night.

Peter bit his lip and tried his best not to pace a hole in his floor, staring down at Loki laying in his bed, his anxiety skyrocketing.

"FRIDAY, are you sure he's going to be okay?" Peter asked the AI, for probably the hundredth time, and he silently thanked the universe that he was able to talk Tony into a privacy lock on his room, the AI couldn't tell Tony about anything that happened in here unless it was an emergency.

"Yes, Peter, he's been infected by a strain of magic that simulates intoxication, vivid dreams, some various other symptoms, but with his Asgardian blood and magic, it should fade from his system automatically, given a few hours of rest and fluids."

Peter fidgets as he continues to stare down at the figure. Loki is pale, like really pale, with a sheen of sweat sticking to him, his hair plastered to his forehead and his eyes moving quickly underneath his closed eyelids. He looks sick and wrecked, mumbling in his sleep, most of it nonsensical, and all of it grating on Peter's nerves. He's never been good at doing nothing, just sitting and waiting, he wants to help, he needs to take things apart and fix them, he can't just watch them fall apart.

Peter walks back to the bed, grabbing the water off the nightstand as he goes, trying again to make the man drink some down. "Come on, Loki, you've got to drink…" Peter mumbles under his breath, the worry coming through anyway.

Loki's eyes flutter for a minute, and Peter feels a rush of relief, excitement even, thinking maybe he's pulling through, but the eyes finally pop open and land on Peter before the man lets out a whisper, "Sten…?"

Peter's heart drops as soon as he hears it, the name sounding absolutely wrecked in Loki's mouth, the man's eyes holding a silent plea that breaks Peter, he wants nothing more than to hold Loki, but he's not sure if he'd even want that, last time he saw the man they weren't exactly on a touchy feely basis.

Peter just sits there, unsure and unsteady, but slowly Loki's eyes blink and he seems to have moved on from whatever memory or vision he must have been in, and Peter somehow has the presence of mind to bring the water to Loki's mouth and finally, blessedly, he takes a few swallows before settling back into his sleep. It's a small consolation as Peter still looks down at the man still lying in his bed looking like death, but Peter would take what he could get.

Loki watches the boy flit through the markets along the street, it's late enough that only the lamps light the paths in a dusky glow, and the vendors are mostly starting to leave for the night. Loki can feel the tightness in his core as he follows lightly after the kid, his body gearing up for a fight if anything untoward breaks out. This may not be his kingdom or his life, but he has too many bad memories to doubt that something bad can happen in these kinds of situations. Though, admittedly, he may be projecting.

Loki wasn't expecting to see almost all of the vendors smile at the younger boy as he walked through the market, or how he flitted between the shops and talked with the Crown's subjects, laughing along and swapping stories like they were all old friends.

It's so unlike what Loki was envisioning, he thought he would be met with debauchery, rebellion, angst and bad decisions, not friendly relationships and innocent endeavours. For some reason, it sends a stab of envy through Loki, a sense of loss, at everything he could have had, a kingdom that loved and cared for him. Loki casts another look at the boy, and considers leaving, he doesn't have much more he needs to do here for Asgard, he could be on his way relatively soon and call the trip a success.

But just before leaving, Loki sees the younger boy cast a look around the market, clearly looking for something, and his eyes finally land on a specific stall, one that Loki can't quite see into, but the boy pulls his cloak tighter, his hood comes up to obscure features as he tries to melt into the shadows.

Loki slowly makes his way closer, internally shaking his head at himself for investing so much time into this, but in his defense, it's been an incredibly dull trip, he's due for some excitement. He finds a spot in the shadows, tucked away but with enough space to watch the other boy slip into the shop and meet with someone inside.

Loki watches as the figure he's been following reaches a hand out, tentatively, almost stops and pulls it back, but seems to gather all of his strength as he continues, pressing a hand to the cheek of another boy with dark skin and darker hair. They stand there for a minute, just looking at each other, and Loki can't tell if words are said between them, or if their silence conveys all they need to.

Loki tilts his head as he watches the pair, the moment when it seems to finally sink in, where they are, who they are, and they slide apart, not coming back into each other's space again before finishing up closing the shop, and they go separate ways.

Loki stays where he is as the curly haired boy comes closer to him, cutting right past him in his path back to the castle. He doesn't notice Loki, not when he gets within a few yards, and not when he stops and turns back to watch the other lone figure make his way across the village, a weight to his shoulders that screams of pain and sorrow.

"Isn't the forbidden romance thing a little cliche? Especially for a prince?" Loki drawls from his spot in the darkness, a spark of genuine amusement in his chest when the prince spins around, looking scared and a little frantic.

The boy finally finds him, and just stands there staring for a few moments, seeming to take in the situation, sizing Loki up lightly before responding, "Don't you think hiding about in the shadows is a bit ill advised, considering a reputation like yours." The boy puffs out his chest and wears his head high, a look of resolve in his eyes, every bit the prince he's been raised to be.

Loki raises an eyebrow delicately, feigning a look of boredom as he slinks out into the open and moves closer to the other boy, "You may be right, but sometimes you've gotta lean into the reputation, keeps life interesting."

The boy scoffs lightly, "I suppose, if having everyone waiting for you to stab them in the back is your idea of interesting."

Loki flashes a vicious smile, "Well, I already know what your idea of interesting is."

The prince narrows his eyes at Loki in a heated stare, even as his cheeks go red with embarrassment, "Are you going to tell the King?"

"Now," Loki turns to sweep a gaze over the cold and imposing castle looming high above them all, "Where is the fun in that?"

Peter holds Loki's head in his lap, having moved to cradle him sometime in the last hour, after he'd tossed around viciously in a fit, Peter hadn't known how to calm him down, didn't know what he needed. Until finally, mercifully, when Peter pressed both palms against Loki's burning face, he'd seemed to melt into the touch and relax. Peter was so happy to see Loki calm down that it was easy to ignore the prickle of unease at that, convincing himself that the general anxiety coursing through him was because he was worried about him.

And when Loki finally seemed to be talking, though some of it was a bit hard to understand, and a lot of it was slurred, at least he was able to make words, it was a progress that Peter was happy for.

"I can't hurt you, P- Peter…" Loki's voice is barely a whisper, his words sounding harsh after all the quiet.

Peter doesn't really know what to say to that, doesn't really understand what Loki is trying to say, but he sounds so broken, Peter just wants to comfort him, despite him being an asshole not too long ago.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, trust me, you've gotta try a lot harder than that to hurt me." Peter tried for a joke, but the words still felt heavy to him.

"No, nonono, you have to leave me, I- m trouble…" The words are so raw and vulnerable that Peter feels his stomach turn over and his heart clench, feeling like he's witnessing something he shouldn't, intruding on something private.

"Oh don't worry about me, I'm used to finding trouble, Tony thinks I have a gift for seeking it out." He doesn't know what else to do but steer the conversation away, find a safer ground.

Loki grimaces where he's laying in Peter's lap, his eyes still drifting open and closed slowly, mostly staring into the distance, "They get hurt… everyone… nd I- I lose everything." His words break off viciously, and Peter has to stroke a hand across his forehead, shushing him until he finally drifts back into his deep sleep.

Peter is dozing slightly where he lays, his back pushed up against his headboard, his legs stretched out along his bed, and Loki lying between his legs, Loki's head resting lightly against his stomach.

It's almost 4 in the morning by now, they've been doing this for about an hour, and if it weren't for how worried sick he was, Peter would almost say this was rather enjoyable. As it was, he was just drifting into a light sleep, his dreams starting to form and twist around him, when he feels his tell tale spidey tense go of, jolting him awake where he sits, a hand shooting out to rest on Loki's shoulders, as if reassuring himself that he's real, that he's okay.

Peter is just starting to calm down when he feels the body beneath his hands stiffen before Loki seems to pry his eyes open, his whole body drawn tight with tension. "Hey, hey, you okay?" Peter's throat is dry and rough as he speaks into the night.

Loki sits up quickly, no consideration for his own condition, he throws his legs over the side of the bed, a hand grabbing at his head as he squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden movement.

"Hey, take it easy, you should probably lay back down."

"I'm fine-"

"You are not fine, you were infected by some neurotoxin and you've been out of your mind for the past like 4 hours, you need rest and fluids."

Loki just looks at Peter with a narrowed gaze, and Peter braces himself, he can see the cruelty working its way to the surface of those green eyes, but he doesn't care, Loki can hate him all he wants, he's at least making sure he doesn't die. But Peter is slightly surprised to see Loki's gaze soften slightly, the fight dies out of his eyes and he looks back over the room, his body relaxing a bit while he just sits there.

"I am a bit more resistant to most dangers, you know." Loki intones dryly.

"Resistant isn't immune." Peter grumbles back lightly. He watches Loki now, the way the man holds himself, so much more put together than he has been these last few hours. It's a relief to see him doing better, but it also sends a stab of something through Peter that he can't quite identify. Before he can think better of it, his mouth is working, leaving his better judgment behind, "Who is Sten?"

The words drop like dead weight, and Loki turns a hard gaze on Peter, his expression a bit wild as he studies Peter, and his lingering eyes make Peter start to squirm with nerves and he can't help but rush to explain.

"Well, when I'm actually inclined to have you in my business, I'll let you know." Loki responds archley, trying to pull himself up.

Peter feels his eyes narrow and his mind seems to put the awkward on the back burner for just a second as a spark of irritation breaks through, pushing itself ahead of any other thoughts. "Right, not like I covered for you, twice, and practically nursed you back to health or anything." Peter quips, his heart beating frantically despite the image of calm he's portraying pretty damn well if he says so himself.

"I never asked anything of you, and I definitely don't owe you anything, Parker." Loki's expression was sharp, and Peter felt it cut him to the bone.

"I mean, considering the way you treated me not even a full day ago, I'd say I'm at least owed some common courtesy here." Peter's voice was quiet, but strong. He stood his ground, despite his heart climbing it's way into his throat, despite the weight to Loki's gaze that seemed to scream of past pain and violations, despite the tensions and how much Peter desperately just wanted to make sure Loki was okay.

Loki narrowed his gaze, and Peter held it, not letting up even as this felt like a face off, like whatever Loki was going to say was a punishment, a game of chicken, a stubborn 'fine, I'll tell you, but don't say I didn't warn you.'

"Sten was a friend, someone who trusted me," Loki's voice is cold and runs a chill down Peter's spine, but he ignores it, adamant that he can handle whatever Loki wants to throw at him, "and I killed him." Loki curls his lip as he says it, the malice is there, evident in the way he throws the words at Peter. "I'm not a good guy, Peter, I'm not going to do the right thing at the end of the day, come around and be a part of you little hero family, I-" Loki spits the word out like it's acid on his tongue, "I'm a villain, Peter. I hurt people, I get people killed, I create chaos and ruin everything I touch, so much that my hero brother has to hide me away and fix my fuck ups. Do yourself a favor and get away before you regret it."

Loki's voice doesn't change, the same chilling tone all the way through, but his eyes had turned soft at some point, maybe even sad as he went on, and Peter can't find it in himself to care about any of it.

Peter doesn't look away as he responds, his chin lifting fractionally, ready to take on the world if he has to, "You might not be a good guy, Loki, but I am. I can't just sit back and do nothing, it's not who I am. I do what's right, I help people who need it, and I definitely don't back down from a fight, so I don't care what you think you're sparing me from, I'm not leaving this alone. And I'm sure you've noticed, telling me not to do something almost guarantees that it's exactly what will happen. So you can either accept my help or deal with me following you around and probably causing more harm than good."

Loki just watches him for a minute, with a completely unreadable expression as he seems to absorb this information, and then he lets out a long suffering sigh as he responds in a resigned tone, "I suppose you could come in handy if I want to annoy my enemies to death…"

Peter can't stop the grin from spreading across his face, "That's the spirit!"