The quinjet landed on the roof of SHIELD headquarters and Clint unbuckled himself from the co-pilot's chair.
"Does Fury know I'm coming back early?"
"He doesn't know you were gone." Natasha supplied.
Clint smiled. "That's a nice feeling."
Loki had already unstrapped himself and went about releasing the pack and the rolls of tent and sleeping bag. He pulled Clint's bow and quiver out of their holders. Clint went to the back to help him gather the gear and panic ran through him at the sight of the bow in Loki's hand.
"Hey!"
Loki whirled around, weapons in one hand and the pack in the other.
Clint stormed up to the god and snatched the bow out of his hand, holding it up inches from Loki's face. "Do not touch this bow. This is mine, okay? There's no other like it and no one else gets to touch it." He waved the bow at the redhead who was getting out of her seat. "Not even Nat gets to touch it, get me?"
Loki had stretched his neck back at the forcefulness of Clint's outburst, looking slightly confused. He nodded jerkily in agreement. "Of course," he bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me."
Clint gave him a look of warning and puffed out the rest of his anger, wrenching the pack from Loki's hand and walking past him out of the hatch.
Natasha passed by him as well, beckoning him follow. "He's right," she admitted. "I've never touched it."
They exited the quinjet and closed the hatch, walking to the stairwell.
"I'd suggest the stairs all the way to the garage- you'll get nothing but questions otherwise," she said.
Clint sighed. "Yeah, thanks."
They walked down the steps together, footsteps echoing on and on, until the came to a floor where Natasha bid them goodbye, and the archer and the god finished the flights of stairs alone. Clint's motorcycle was where he left it, shining black and purple clouds of space under it's 'Indian' label. The helmet handing off the handlebar matched the paint job. He set the pack on the ground and took the sacks from Loki, fitting them into the pack where they belonged and then turned the god around and helped him shoulder it on.
"Here's how this is gonna work," Clint said, strapping on the quiver over his back and hooking his bow around it. "I'm gonna get on, and you'll get on behind me in the same way. Keep your feet on these pegs," he pointed to the rubber and metal cylinders sticking out on both sides of the bike. "When I stop and put my feet on the ground, you keep your feet on the pegs."
Loki nodded at the instructions, scrutinizing the vehicle and hiking the pack higher on his back. Clint slipped the helmet on, flipping up the dark visor. From his jacket he pulled his sunglasses and handed them to the god. Loki put them on and frowned.
"This feels very strange," he said.
"Gonna feel even worse in a minute. Come on." He mounted the bike and waved Loki on, who copied his movements hesitantly, sitting as far back from the driver as he could. Clint didn't say anything about it, glad he didn't have to express his wish not to have the god's body pressed up against his back. Clint tilted the bike upright and kicked it on, letting it roar to life under their bodies, vibrating up to their chests. The archer reached behind him and grabbed Loki's hands, pulling them onto his hips.
"Hold on to me right here at all times."
"Must I?"
"Yes," Clint snapped. "I know it's weird for you; it's weird for me too, but it's that or fall off and skin yourself alive on the pavement. Your pick."
Loki pursed his lips and dug the fingers of his good hand into Clint's hip. "It seems your hips are more than adequate handholds."
"I thought so." Clint faced forward again and shouted above the growling of the motorcycle. "When I lean to turn, lean with me, but don't get crazy about it."
"I feel like this is a dangerous mode of transportation," Loki complained.
Clint laughed. "Why do you think I ride it?" He slid down the visor and flipped up the kickstand, revving the engine a second before steering it through the garage.
Clint took no dangerous moves with the bike for this trip because of his passenger. He kept within the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws, keeping it simple and as unnerve-wracking as possible.
Loki kept a steel grip on Clint's hips, squeezing to the point of painful when a bump in the road jolted them. But the ride was long and soon he was able to relax enough to look around, watching the world fly by them in streaks of color. He smelled different kinds of smoke, he smelled food, flowers. When they stopped at lights, he watched the people, crammed onto the sidewalks and streaming across the streets on the crosswalks. He looked at them with slight contempt and a little curiosity. He resigned himself to the fact that he was to be one of them now. None of them even looked his way; they didn't know who he was. They didn't care.
He looked up at the buildings as they whizzed by. Different styles, materials; Loki couldn't understand the incongruity of the humans. None of them dressed with any kind of similarity either. They were like a hundred different realms crushed into one, forced to live together and get along. He watched the skies curiously too, filled with the metal birds that took people to and fro over the planet. He watched distractedly and loosely until the motorcycle skidded to a sudden halt, wheels squealing against the pavement and throwing Loki against the quiver Clint wore, forcing the breath out of him. Clint shouted behind his helmet and made wild arm movements at a pedestrian in the middle of the street, only feet away from the bike.
"Get the fuck out of the road, dipshit!"
"Fuck you, man, I'm walking here! Don't you know how to use your fucking eyes?" The pedestrian yelled back, flipping Clint his middle finger and crossing to the other side of the street.
"Fucking dick," Clint muttered and shook his head, jolting the bike back up to speed. He turned his head some to see Loki's face right behind his shoulder. He'd wrapped his arms around the archer's waist with the scare of the sudden stop, chest still crushed against the quiver. His eyes were wide, clearly visible even behind the sunglasses.
"Shit your pants?"
Loki shook his head in total confusion. "What?"
Clint chuckled and thought the god hadn't heard him. "You okay back there?"
"Are we near?"
"Yeah, not far."
It wasn't much further, only a couple streets away from Clint's, and when he pulled up to the curb and kicked down the stand he told Loki to dismount. The god nearly slid out off the seat like he was made of jelly, legs numb from the vibration of the bike. Clint got of the motorcycle behind him and held the god by his elbow.
"It'll wear off," he assured, leading him onto the sidewalk.
Loki stopped and steadied himself, taking deep breaths and flexing the muscles of his calves where he stood. He looked up at the building in front of them in the meantime, taking in its red-brown painted bricks and its columns of narrow white windows. Some of them were open, a potted plant sitting on the windowsill of one, and a girl fanning herself on a ledge in shorts and bikini top in another. She glanced down at them and didn't smile when she made eye contact with the god. She looked away disinterestedly.
Clint was calling Loki from the door of the building, pulling his attention away from the details. He followed the archer up and into his apartment, shocked by the sparseness of it. He dropped the pack by the door and watched Clint hang the beaded bow on the left wall, quiver set on the floor in the corner. Clint turned around to face the god and he shrugged.
"Home, sweet home," he said. "I guess, uh... Make yourself at home, look around. Rules of the house are: you sleep on the couch."
Loki nodded and they stood there in silence, neither looking at the other. Clint fidgeted and then took a sudden deep breath.
"Yeah, have fun." He moved passed the god and into the kitchen, opening the window and grunting in disappointment when he didn't find the woman across the alley. He stood at the window and breathed in the warm air anyway, feeling it swish around him and into the apartment, mixing up the dust. He heard Loki's boots on the tile and turned to see what he was inspecting first. It was Charles.
Loki closed in on the fish curiously, watching it nibble at the plant. He looked up at Clint.
"You never told me you owned a fish." He seemed very confused at it's presence.
Clint snorted. "You never asked. Don't think pets were a very important part to the invasion."
"Indeed." Loki leaned away from the fish and regarded it with a tilted head before he moved away, opening all the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen and touring the refrigerator. Clint let him wander and sat on the couch, texting Natasha he arrived home safely with the god.
He felt so strange letting his former master prowl his apartment to his pleasure, like the invasion of Earth had ended, but not with Loki's loss. Nor with Loki's win. He was just... there. The urge to serve the god was gone but that was the only difference in his interaction with him. He could say and do whatever he wanted.
Loki moved on from the kitchen and crossed the living room, disappearing down the alcove to Clint's bedroom and bathroom. He heard his dresser drawers being opened and closed, including the closet. The bathroom apparently required the most scrutiny though, he stayed in there a while. When he returned from the bathroom he stood in the living room staring at his host.
"Are these your only rooms?"
"Not everyone lives in a palace," Clint scoffed. "I'm not here much anyways." He stood up then and handed the god the remote control to the television. "Here. Figure this out- I'm gonna put the camp stuff out to dry on the roof." He picked up the pack and headed out the door, leaving the god inside alone.
Returning with a mostly empty bag, all the wet items drying in the sun on the roof, Clint found Loki where he thought he might be. On the couch, with the TV on. He smirked and went about putting away the rest of the gear, joining Loki on the couch when he was finished. The god was watching the news, learning about the death of a teenager by the hand of a serial killer.
"I was merely a common killer in the eyes of your people, was I not?" Loki spoke sadly, eyes never leaving the screen.
Clint nodded slowly, half agreeing. "Kind of. I mean your invasion destroyed buildings and things too though so... maybe more like a terrorist. You wanted to destroy our way of life."
"I would not have been such a terrible ruler," Loki said.
"You sawed out a man's eyeball in the middle of a fancy party. We could have just as easily kidnapped him and put his eye to the scanner."
"I believe you are the one who supplied me with that device," Loki argued. "And where's the fun in a simple kidnapping of a simple human?"
Clint waved his hand in the air. "Yeah, I know, you like a spectacle. You're a 'go big or go home' kind of guy. I know the chaos was part of the plan so you could get into the helicarrier and all that."
"Then what are we contesting here?"
"That you would've been a tyrant and we don't like all-encompassing, one-man rulers."
They glared at each other and then settled for watching the TV again, spending the rest of the afternoon there, flipping channels when it got boring. They nibbled at the good stuff left in the fridge, some fruit and cheese, and then Clint announced he was going to bed. He pulled a blanket out of the closet and threw it on Loki's lap and left him in the bright flashing lights of the TV.
Clint shut the door to his bedroom and undressed, sliding into the small bed and groaning happily when he smelled the cool scent of his pillow. He buried his face in it and sighed. He heard the voices of the television abruptly silenced and the couch gently squeaked with Loki's settling into it.