A/N: I know nothing about the Avengers' mansion. I just made up the shit on the training room. *shrug*
The Trickster and the Captain
Steve knew he should be used to Loki's presence by now, but he still had to stop himself from reaching for his shield every time he ran into the god. Steve didn't trust Loki, and just seeing him now, lazing across the couch, his long limbs tangled with Tony's, raised his hackles. Clad in nothing but pajama bottoms, Steve felt vulnerable.
As though sensing his glare, Loki glanced at him over the back of the couch, smiling that smug, cat-like smile that reminded Steve of "Lo'kitty". Loki ran his hand through Tony's hair and purred something in his ear. Steve grit his teeth as Tony grinned and murmured something back.
Loki had Tony wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it.
Steve and Loki locked challenging stares over the back of the couch again.
I'm watching you, Steve's look said.
Go ahead, said Loki's.
Steve grit his teeth again and left to pour himself some coffee.
"Look," Steve heard Clint say as he passed by the kitchen. "Whatever kinky-ass shit you want to get into in your own bedroom is your business, but Goddammit, Tony, I eat at this table!"
Steve paused and backtracked until he was shooting a questioning stare through the doorway. Clint was standing by the kitchen table, his arms folded across his chest. Tony, meanwhile, was fidgeting nervously, albeit with a smirk on his face.
"Sorry, Clint."
Tony sounded anything but. Unbidden, images of Tony and Loki entangled on the table flit through his mind, and Steve grimaced, wishing he could unsee all of that. Actually, Steve wished he hadn't overheard this particular conversation in the first place.
Clint mumbled something and stalked off, face still twisted in irritation. Tony caught sight of Steve in the doorway, and a smile split his face.
"Heya, Steve!" he said, walking over to clap a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," Steve replied with less enthusiasm. "Do I even want to know?" He indicated the table with a jerk of his head.
Tony's smile turned crooked, smug. "No, probably not," he said with a dirty chuckle.
Steve smiled and tried not to let his disapproval show. Steve was used to – if not happy with – Tony's sexual shenanigans, but the thought of said "shenanigans" involving Loki still rankled.
Something of Steve's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Tony took one look at his expression and burst out laughing. He threw an arm around Steve's shoulders and squeezed, grinning affectionately.
"Steve, Steve, Steve," he sighed, still with that infuriating smirk. "You are just too easy to mess with."
"Indeed."
Steve tried not to jump at the sound of a third voice, a smooth, accented voice Steve had grown to loathe. There was a hard edge to that voice now, to that one word. Steve turned to see Loki approaching on silent, cat-like feet.
Loki's eyes flit to the arm Tony had around his shoulders, and Steve could just see the flutter of skin as his jaw muscles clenched. Now, that was interesting.
Steve looked pointedly at Tony's hand on his shoulder and then back at Loki, lips curling in a self-assured grin. Loki's eyes met his and narrowed.
"Hey, Loki!" Tony all but chirped, oblivious to this exchange. His arm slid from Steve's shoulders, and then Loki was at his side, wedging himself between the two Avengers. He curled an arm about Tony's waist and shot a glare at Steve as if to say, Mine! Back off!
Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, stalking back down the hall.
Tony frowned at Steve's retreating back. "I wonder what's up with him," he said.
"Oh, I'm sure it's not important," Loki replied. The words were smooth and even, but there was a knife-like edge to his smile. "So..." Loki ran one long-fingered hand over Tony's shoulder, green eyes hooded and promising so many filthy, filthy things. Tony swallowed.
"By the way," Tony said. "Clint says to stop with the table sex."
Loki huffed a laugh, and his answering smirk was positively wicked. "What about the counter?" he asked, nipping at Tony's ear.
Tony hummed appreciatively. "Oh, how naughty," he purred. "Though that doesn't sound too sanitary."
"Magic," Loki reminded him.
"Mmm, true. You present a compelling argument, good sir."
A few minutes later, Clint had a second talk with Tony. This time Steve could hear them on the other side of the building.
Steve wasn't sure when it had started, but he and Loki now traded glares whenever they passed each other in the hallway. They weren't subtle about it; Thor, Pepper, Clint, and Natasha tensed when they saw that one had spotted the other. Even Tony noticed, and Steve could see him shuffling around uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye.
There was a reason Loki had earned the title of Trickster, and Steve wasn't about to stand by and let the god take advantage of his best friend.
The next time he caught Loki alone, Steve grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the wall.
"I'm onto you," he hissed, eyes blue and bright and piercing. Loki stared calmly, coolly back. "I don't know what you plan to gain from this, but I am onto you."
Steve grit his teeth when the Trickster responded with a laugh. "Oh, you are, are you?" he said, voice smooth as silk. His face was a mask of detached amusement. He relaxed into the wall as though he didn't have the super-soldier's hand twisted up in his collar. "And here I thought you Avengers weren't going to be any fun."
Steve grit his teeth. "Is this a game to you?" he spat.
"Everything's a game, Steven," Loki blithely replied. His eyes hardened. "Otherwise, what would be the point?"
"Whatever," Steve grumbled, pushing away from Loki. He spared the god one more glare before returning to the living room, to the couch lit only by the glow of the TV. He sank into the seat next to Tony that Loki usually occupied.
The seat that was his before a certain god interfered.
Tony oscillated between looking bemused and uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat a few times too many, fingernails picking at his beer bottle's label.
"Okay, Steve, really," Tony began haltingly. From his tone, Steve suspected he'd been overheard and tried not to squirm himself. "I know you're not exactly Loki's biggest fan, but could you try not to piss him off any more than necessary? Because then I have to deal with it."
Tony looked to the side as though considering something. Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Tony's words ran away from him.
"I mean, the angry sex is... is just wow, but I'm getting tired of replacing broken furniture."
"He's your woman," Clint muttered around the lip of his own beer. "You deal with him."
Natasha shot him a Look, but Steve ignored him. He studied Tony's face, the open, pleading expression that the jerk knew always worked on him. Steve pursed his lips, holding strong for his friend's sake.
"I make no promises," he said stonily. His spine prickled with the weight of someone's stare, and he knew that, if he twisted around, he would see Loki in the doorway, face half-hidden by a slant of shadow.
Tony frowned but did not press him. Steve stared at the TV and pretended not to notice the helpless look Tony shot at Loki over his shoulder.
Loki squeezed in on the other side of Tony. He and Steve made it a point to ignore each other through the movie, leaving Tony sitting stiff and uncomfortable between them.
Steve paused for breath, feeling the sweet burn of adrenaline down to the tips of his fingers. He pushed back his cowl and wiped the sweat from his forehead and upper lip. The simulation faded, and his surroundings returned to the metal box that was the training room.
The door creaked open, and Steve reached for his shield and tightened his grip when he glanced towards the approaching footsteps and saw Loki. The god was looking about him with an expression of detached amusement that Steve was well acquainted with. Loki stopped when he was a few paces away from Steve. The human relaxed his posture even while he maintained his white-knuckled grip on his shield.
Two could feign indifference.
"So this is the training room," the god said. The words bounced off the walls and back to them with tinny undertones, so that it sounded like multiple Lokis speaking slightly out of sync.
Frightening thought, Steven.
"What do you think?" Steve asked. It was a politer alternative to why the blazes are you even here?
"It's... cute."
Steve frowned and crooked an eyebrow. "Cute," he parroted. "I doubt that's what Tony was aiming for."
"Doesn't Professor Xavier have a chamber much like this?"
Steve didn't want to know how Loki knew that. "Well yeah," he said. "The Danger Room was originally designed by Tony's father. Professor X pays Tony to make adjustments every few years or so. Tony still likes to tweak it now and then, but he modeled this room on that one."
"Fascinating," Loki murmured, looking about appraisingly again.
"What do you want?" Steve's patience had run out. He was tired, sweaty and in desperate need of a shower. The last thing he needed was... Loki. "Tony's upstairs."
He balked at telling an enemy that. And Loki was still an enemy as far as Steve was concerned.
Loki picked at the hem of his sleeve, a sign of nervousness that caught Steve's attention. "Yes, yes, I am aware," he said tetchily. "He... requested that I make peace with you."
"Requested?" And Loki had listened? "And how do you suppose we do that?"
Loki's answering smile did not reach his eyes. "I've always found that sparring is a good way to relieve excess anger." He indicated Steve's shield with a glance.
Steve wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to kick Loki's ass.
Loki summoned a spear from thin air, and Steve widened his stance, angling his body to side to present a smaller target, one more easily protected by his trusty shield. He didn't bother to set the simulation. His focus was on Loki, on his horned helm, green eyes and infuriating smirk. The god approached with the ease and grace of a panther, and the two circled each other slowly, eyes unblinking as they catalogued every step of their opponent.
"Ladies first," Steve said when neither moved to attack. His shield was predominantly a defensive weapon. It's lack of reach versus the spear was not ideal for a beginning strike, and he dared not throw it and leave himself weaponless so early on in the battle.
Loki scoffed but seemed more amused than insulted by the comment. "If you fought the Lady Sif," he said, "you would not dare give her such an advantage."
Steve started to respond when suddenly the fight had begun. Loki lunged at him, striking with his spear with the speed of a viper, and Steve just barely got his shield up in time. He reversed the momentum of his block to slam the shield's edge into Loki's chin, but the god sidestepped the attack and thrust his spear at Steve's exposed left flank.
Steve twisted, but the spear grazed him just over the hip. He growled and caught the spear as it struck him, pulling it forward to overbalance Loki and bringing his shield to bear with the other hand. The ring of metal on metal echoed oddly through the room as the edge of Steve's shield collided with Loki's helmet, wrenching Loki's head at a painful angle.
Loki staggered to one knee, shaking his head and blinking owlishly. His grip slackened for a fraction of a second before tightening again as Steve started to pull the spear free. Steve swung his shield about again, only to feel at jar against the metal floor as Loki pulled to the side and to his feet, twisting the spear free of Steve's grip.
The butt of the spear cracked against Steve's skull, rattling his brain and his vision as he stumbled under the force of the blow. Next the butt cracked against his cheekbone, sending him reeling in the other direction, before hitting the base of his skull a second time.
The shield clanged to the floor, and as it spun, it made sounds against the metal floor that Steve could feel in his teeth. He blinked, and said floor looked much closer than before. Before he could catch his bearings, Loki grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and threw him onto his back. Steve groaned as his throbbing head cracked against more metal. Loki's face spun in front of him.
"I'm onto you," he slurred. "I won't let you hurt him."
A hand closed about Steve's throat, and Loki's face swam closer.
"And what are you willing to sacrifice for his well-being?" Loki asked. The silken smoothness was gone from his voice.
Long, pale fingers tightened around his windpipe. Steve choked, glared into green eyes and rasped, "Anything. Everything. My life. He's family to me."
Like the annoying little brother he's glad he never had.
Oh, Lord, his head hurt.
Loki's gaze flit over his face, his own expression closed off and inscrutable. Finally he said, "Good," and pushed himself to his feet, allowing Steve to breathe.
Steve gasped and coughed, massaging his throat. He knew there would be finger-shaped bruises there soon enough. For a long moment, he waited for the world to stop spinning and watched Loki catch his breath and adjust his clothing. He realized something. "You honestly care about him, don't you?" he said before he could think better of it.
Loki's gaze met his. Something uncertain flit across his eyes before tucking itself back under his insouciant mask. "Yes," he said softly. "I do." Then he spun on his heel and left, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and what was likely a concussion.