"Agent Romanov?" Reed leaned around the frame of Natasha's door at the tower he was getting increasingly comfortable letting himself into.

"How many times am I going to tell you that you can call me Natasha before you believe me?" The redhead didn't even look up from the file she was reading

"I still get a 'I'll kill you for over familiarity' vibe off of you, so probably a lot. Anyway, I have a question."

"Ask away."

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. pays my rent, safe to say my apartment is bugged to high heaven?"

"Oh yeah. Let me guess, you want to unbug it."

"If possible."

"Of course it's possible. And yes I can do it. Why, you finally got yourself a boyfriend?" She grinned at him. "Oh, don't look so surprised. When you work with as many top-rung spies as we do, there is no closet."

"I'm not closeted, just discreet. Or so I thought."

"No, you are, it's just not very effective. Believe me though, I understand the discretion; S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't need to know what happens in your bed, or on your couch, or on your kitchen table."

"Oh my God, Natasha..." Reed scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Hey! There we go with the familiarity. Also you just proved me right." She stood. "C'mon, I'm not doing anything important or interesting, we can go debug your place right now."

"You are a saint." Reed followed her to the elevator.

"I've shed an awful lot of blood for a saint."

"I dunno, Joan of Arc was a soldier, then there's Santiago the Moore Slayer..."

"Oh, shut up."

"Shutting up." He followed her out into the parking deck and to an understated black sports car which they both folded themselves into.

"So, how'd a work horse like you get in a non-work relationship?" She sped out of the garage and turned onto the right street to go to Reed's apartment.

"I got picked up. Do you know where I live?"

"Of course I know where you live. What do you mean you got picked up?"

"Of course you know where I live." He sighed. "I was somebody's one night stand, which is now a four night stand..."

"Well, sounds like that went well."

"You could say that. But, uh, he's got roommates..."

"I see."


Sitting alone on the edge of his bed in his newly debugged apartment, Reed twirled his phone between his fingers several times, then steeled himself and punched in a number he had little hope would work. After seven rings the line picked up.

"Tell me you're going to provide an excuse for me to not be where I am right now."

Reed couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you'd pick up, I didn't think you actually had a phone—"

"Of course I have a phone, even Thor has a phone. I'm being pelted with snowballs by two twelve year olds, a five year old, and an overzealous Asgardian toddler, do I have a reason to leave?"

"Uh, well, uh, yes. My apartment is, uh, safe now, so I thought maybe—"

"I'll be right there."

The call ended. Reed stared at his phone until there was a knock at his door. He jumped up and ran to the door, plastering himself against it to look out the peep hole before throwing it open with a grin. "Hi."

"Hi." Loki pulled Reed into his arms and kicked the door shut behind them.

A couple hours later, Reed was seeing him out the door again. A couple hours wasn't much, but it was about as long as either of them dared spend with the other. For a year, if Loki was on Earth and Reed wasn't on assignment, they'd find a couple hours. Later in the year, they were sometimes together a little longer. Reed told himself he didn't mind, it wasn't as if they were dating. Natasha kept probing him with questions about his "boyfriend," to which he responded that he didn't have one. And he didn't. He was just sporadically sleeping with the Norse god of mischief, no big deal. Staring at his phone one disgustingly late night, debating hitting the call button for the contact labeled "Green Eyed Jackass," Reed wondered how his life had turned into a bad gay erotica novel. He could probably trace it back to spying on the foster kids hi parents were always taking care of on their farm in upstate New York. Back then all he had was cheap gear he'd gotten from the school bookfair, but that was definitely part of how he'd wound up with S.H.I.E.L.D, which was indirectly but undeniably how he'd wound up where he was now. He hit the call button.

A couple hours later, tangled in Reed's bedsheets with him, Loki sighed. "I should go."

Eyes closed, Reed pressed his face to Loki's shoulder. "Do you have to?"

"Carter, it's late."

"So stay the night." Reed moved to lay curled against Loki's chest. He didn't want to move. It had been a long day and, as lanky and angular as Loki was, he made a good pillow.

Loki hesitated, ran a hand through Reed's hair and down his neck, then let his eyes close. He felt Reed's breathing slow as the smaller man fell asleep and was struck by a sharp twinge of protectiveness that prompted him to wrap Reed in his arms before allowing sleep to claim him as well. When next Loki opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming through chinks in the blinds over the window on the east wall, painting stripes across his torso and the empty bed he lay in. He sat up slowly before getting up. Redressed, followed the sounds of clattering and quiet cursing to the kitchen and then paused in the doorway. Reed looked around at him from the stove. "Hey, uh, I didn't want to wake you, I get up at like six. I'm making french toast, uh, do you like french toast?" he asked stiltedly. "Sorry, this is awkward, isn't it?"

"Slightly." Loki took a seat at the formica topped island, leaned on his elbows and massaged his temples.

Reed bit back a grin. "Not a morning person?"

"No."

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Occasionally."

"How do you take it?"

"In a way you are going to find strange."

Reed plated his french toast, set the pan in the sink, and leaned on the island across from Loki. "How d'you like your coffee?"

"Black, over ice."

"Can't say I've heard that one before, but easy enough." He turned away, took the half empty pot from his Mr. Coffee and stuck it in the freezer then returned to the island. He hesitated a breath then reached out to run his fingers through Loki's sleep tousled hair in an attempt to tame it. "French toast?"

"I've never had it."

Reed quirked an eyebrow, grabbed his plate, and came around to sit next to Loki. "Try a bite."

Loki took the proffered fork, ate a roughly cubic inch, and made a face of disgust. "Too sweet."

"Well then," Reed took his fork back and ate some of his breakfast, "gimme a minute and I'll make you some without maple syrup. It's the syrup that's sweet, not the toast itself."

"You needn't go to the trouble."

"We've been seeing each other for a year, I highly doubt you can actually cook, and it's my kitchen anyway. I'm going to make you breakfast." He kissed Loki before he could object, quickly finished his own french toast, then got up to make some for Loki. He paused, got the coffee pot out of the freezer, poured some over ice in a mug, set it on the island, and returned to cooking.

After Loki had eaten his syrup-less french toast, he studied Reed a moment. "Do you not have to work today?"

Reed shook his head. "If I did I'd already be gone. I'm off today."

"What do you ordinarily do on your days off?"

"Mope around my apartment, eat, and play video games." He motioned across the room to his television and the bookcase next to it which, instead of books, was piled with easily a dozen different game consoles.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. "That sounds like the twins when they're bored."

"The Stark-Rogers twins?"

"To what other twins would I be referring?"

"I don't know. How am I supposed to know how many pairs of twins you know? Nevermind." He tapped his fingers on the formica, feeling slightly giddy. "Uh, do you maybe wanna play?"

Reed sounded so hopeful, Loki couldn't help but smile—though it may have turned out as more of a smirk. "I'm afraid I don't know how."

"I could show you."

Loki sighed. "Only because you seem so intent on this am I agreeing."

Reed's face broke into an elated grin, he kissed Loki's cheek, took his hand, and dragged him to the couch. Loki watched in silence as Reed pushed buttons on the TV and various boxes around the TV until a logo came up on the screen and he handed Loki a controller. "Have you ever heard of Mario?"

"From the twins, yes." Loki turned the controller over in his hands.

"Can you drive?"

"In theory."

"Perfect. We're playing MarioKart." With a quick flash of a bright smile Reed put a disk in the appropriate console, grabbed a controller for himself, and sat next to his lover. "It's a racing game with characters from Mario games. It's ridiculous and fairly low stakes, but it's fun."

"I suppose I've no choice but to trust your judgment." When the game got to the track selection screen, Loki pointed to one of them. "I think I like the looks of that one."

"Oh, no, Rainbow Road is probably the hardest track on here and you've never played."

"It looks like the Bifrost."

Reed rolled his eyes. "The Rainbow Bridge, Rainbow Road, of course."

"You said yourself it's a low stakes game."

"Alright, fine, but don't blame me when you fall off and die." Reed hit the A button. "Also, watch out for blue shells."

"Blue shells?"

"You'll see."

The game started and within moments, Loki made a strangled sound of frustration as his kart careened off the side of the track into empty space, falling until he was rescued by Lakitu. Reed pressed his lips together, refraining from telling Loki he'd told him so. Not long later, Reed swerved to avoid a shell which then collided with Loki's kart, sending him off the track again. After falling off three more times, Loki dropped his controller. Reed paused the game and set his own controller down. "Are you okay?"

"This was a bad idea." Loki looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Whoa, hey, it's just a game."

"It's not the game."

"Then what is it?"

Loki shook his head.

"Loki, what's wrong?" Reed put a cautious, comforting hand on his back.

Loki took several shaky breaths, then slowly, painfully explained having let the Jotun into Asgard years before, the fight with his brother on the Bifrost, and falling—falling for so, so long. Reed eased Loki down on the couch, his head in the agent's lap, gentle fingers carding through his long black hair. Memories of his youth hit Loki with the force of a physical blow—he'd sat with Frigga like this as a child, still believing she had borne him. He took another breath and started talking, telling Reed everything. Petty boyhood fights with Thor; spending three weeks as a girl to get out of swordsmanship lessons he didn't want to go to until Sif had dragged him, kicking and cursing, to the practice field by the laces of his dress, firmly telling him that being female was no excuse for not learning to wield a blade; knowing by the pinched looks on his parents' faces whenever he shapeshifted that he was somehow different; taking the tesseract, thinking he could control it, and being helpless against its power when he realized it had begun to control him, taking every scrap of fear and spite and darkness inside him and twisting it all until he bent to its will; prison and knowing how incredibly disappointed Frigga was in him.

Reed listened without judging, letting him rant and cry and, on occasion, scream; allowing him to get up and pace only to lay his head on Reed's knee again. Once Loki had talked himself hoarse, Reed leaned down and kissed his hair. "It's okay."

Loki closed his eyes, found Reed's hand, and laced their fingers together. "I—you are—I think..." He took a breath, struggling to voice the most terrifying thought he'd ever had in his long life. "I think I may, quite possibly, love you..."

Reed blinked several times, smiled, and squeezed Loki's hand. "I love you, too."


A/N: So that happened...
Reviews greatly appreciated.