A/N: Thank you all for reading this, it was originally intended to be a one-shot, but you all wanted more, so it'll be a two-shot now, this serving as the ending. Thanks again, and enjoy! :)

100 years.

525 60000 minutes.

He was coming for him.

Loki was the only person who knew of his bargain that day. When Thor had come back, they all treated it as a miracle, a gift given from Valhalla itself. Nobody knew just how dark the secret Loki was carrying was. Even Thor was oblivious, though he usually was to most anything Loki did.

He was glad to have his brother back. Thor did not remember much, only that he had lost time when he had been 'out' or 'sleeping.' Loki just smiled, endured Thor's slaps on the back, and waited, with eternally baited breath, for 100 years to come.

And it did.

Thor had become ruler of Asgard. Loki had endured watching the golden son rule the people of the realm, burying his dreams of ever taking up that throne. He convinced himself that he was happy for Thor, but he never, not once tried to convince himself that Thor is a better King than he himself would have been. Because that would be a lie even Loki couldn't spin.

Over the century, which was a mere decade in human time, not much changed, except for wisdom gained and childish ambitions shed. Despite his lack of public power, Loki became a very influential advisor to his brother, so in a way, he still had a hand in what went on.

The only thing keeping him sane and quiet over those years was the memory of those eyes.

Those eyes that reflected so much of himself... they were unforgettable, just as the lips were. At first, Loki was disgusted in himself for even entertaining the notion that he felt anything for a demon. A demon! But Crowley's very soul, his true soul in all of its evil and darkness... haunted Loki's dreams and thoughts.

And the god of mischief loved every one dream of him.

On the last day, he knew it was time.

He rose from his bed, gazing one last time out at the twin moons and cascading waterfalls. He visited his brother in the throne room.

"Thor," he started in a low voice, and Thor gazed up. "Brother! It is most pleasant to see you! Fine day, is it not?" he smiled brightly, and Loki smiled back. "Indeed, it is. I have something to say. Or rather... something we must converse about."

Thor gestured for him to follow, and they made their way to a village tavern, Thor's favorite place to eat, drink and be merry.

They sat, and wasting no time, Loki began. "Thor..." he sighed, "...Brother, there's something I must say." "All in good time, we must savor our mead first-!" "Thor, I've come to say goodbye." There was a thick silence.

"I'm not sure I understand." "You wouldn't. Because I never told you." He took a deep breath. "Told me what?" Loki looked up. "There's somewhere I must go. As a result of a decision I once made, one that I do not regret in the slightest. You'll most likely never see me again, brother, so I came to take my leave of you."

Thor was speechless, his brow furrowed. "Where must you go?" he finally asked, his voice scratchy as what looked like tears formed in his eyes.

"Away," was all Loki said. To a place so dark, weak souls would burn to dust in a second upon entering. To a place where he would fit in. To once again meet the man who held his contract, to retrieve his stolen heart.

"I still don't understand, brother-" Thor managed out, looking distressed, and shocked, and confused all at the same time. "There's nothing for you to understand, Thor. I bid you well in the years to come. Farewell."

And with that, he left.

To wait.

One last time.

He felt the scorching heat ignite from deep inside his core. Instead of the physical burn of flame, this fire singed from within, and spread outward. He felt the tearing of his flesh as the dogs dug their merciless, inhuman claws into him, into his soul, dragging him down, away from everything, everyone. He didn't scream, for he was free, and the pain was all quite... perfect.

"Hello darling."

Loki opened his emerald eyes, colour that would soon fade from them as time went on in this pit of nothingness.

"How was the wait?"

Loki looked forward, and found him staring at him on what looked like a throne. He looked around him, and heard faint screams, yells, clanking, and he smelled charring skin, smoky air. "The wait was worse than dying 100 times," Loki replied coolly, exhaling through his nose.

"I'd imagine," Crowley smirked, inspecting his nails, "With a face like mine in your head, who wouldn't admit to the torture it brought them to abstain?" Loki rolled his eyes at the man's self indulgence.

"Though I must say, it wasn't all fun and games for me, either," Crowley went on, stepping forward, "Your lips are talented, no doubt- and the memory of a god is very distracting, especially while trying to perform everyday duties, like torturing, butchering, and ruling."

Loki frowned at him, and Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Ah yes, I forgot to mention. 100 years is a long time, lovely, and since our last little rendezvous, hell has become my domain. Lucky for you, isn't it?" He grinned. Loki swallowed his arousal.

"Yes, over the years, things have gotten lonely. My two favorite pets, Sam and Dean Winchester, well, they're long gone. It wouldn't have taken 100 years, either. They were doomed from the start- a miracle they lasted as long as they did. Castiel, the angel, he dropped off the map when the Winchesters did. I don't know where he is now, and I frankly don't care. You see, without them to bug, poke and prod at every now and again... things get lonely. You came in due time, Loki Laufeyson."

Loki swallowed again, and he never knew it was possible for his throat to get dry when he didn't even have a physical throat anymore. Crowley stepped forward again, narrowing his eyes. "You wanted what I have, yes?"

Loki stared right at Crowley. "To what do you refer?"

"A kingdom. To rule, of course. You want it." "There's no denying it," Loki replied, not missing a beat. "You... the silver tongue... rightful king... and the one you saved, the one who landed you here, now, took that from you." "I sealed my own fate." "You made the right choice," Crowley came back with, and Loki looked at him curiously.

"You think I would wait for you so intently if I had no legitimate plans for you?" Crowley asked, "We never got that trip to Barbados." Loki clenched his jaw at the tease. "I fall into no plan of anyone's but my own." "That's precious how you think you still have a choice in what you do," Crowley said, stroking his cheek.

Loki remembered Crowley to be lighter, more fun the last time he saw him. This new, King Crowley was too much of a parallel of himself for Loki's liking.

"Yes, you've got it," Crowley smirked, "You and I, we're more alike now." Loki frowned, then realized his thoughts must be somewhat visible now. "I can still be fun," Crowley said, "I'm a bloody riot. Ask my advisor; just the other day, I played holy darts on a demon who challenged my authority! Now, now, I'm still my good old self. Just new and improved. Bigger, badder... King of Hell."

Loki shivered, and snapped, "What is your point in all of this?" "Ruling." "I'm sorry-?" "The ruling of Hell. Together. You and me. Side by side, baying at the moon: kings."

Loki had to take a moment. "Are you suggesting-" "I'm suggesting you're a much better King than your brother, your father, and me, for that matter. But you already know that. I'm giving you a chance to show your chops, darling. You're dead, what have you got to lose?"

Loki's mouth hung agape, and soon turned upward in a devilish smile, one that had not graced his lips since his younger, darker days. "When do we start?" he drawled, and in a flash, Crowley was in front of him, charcoal, heated lips on his cooler ones. It was as if the hundred years had never passed, and Loki loved the familiar burn of his cheeks.

The kiss broke, and Crowley drew back, opening his eyes. Pure red shone out of them, with tiny black pupils and red smoke pooling out. Loki breathed out heavily, feeling the intentions of the demon and feeling his own soul twist, break and bend into a darker, wonderfully more ruthless version of himself.

Crowley spoke back, whispering in Loki, second King of Hell's, ear. "We just did- let's take a howl at this moon."

As they ruled, Loki never did get his heart back from Crowley- and he never once wished it back.