On the ground floor of SHIELD headquarters, Clint led Loki through the throngs of agents and suits, rolling his eyes at how they all parted to make way for them. Loki made it easier for Clint this time, dressing in human clothes rather than his leathers. But he was still Loki, and everyone was cautious and curious. They watched the pair everywhere they went.
The back of the ground floor, behind the grand staircase that led to the next, was an enclosed set of rooms, painted black on the walls and small warning signs on the doors that read 'LIVE-FIRE RANGE'. Clint stopped at the door and turned to the god.
"It's gonna be loud as hell in there- shots going off and shit. Don't yell if you need to say something, just tap me and talk in my ear. Let's go."
He opened the door, letting out a cacophony of gunshots for a moment while they slipped inside. Clint started down the aisle after he shut the door behind Loki, bracing himself against the blasting noises. They passed the stalls of range shooters, all concentrating on their aim and form. On occasion all the shots would stop as the weapons were reloaded and all that could be heard through the ringing of their ears was the last clink of a bullet casing on the concrete floor. And then the shots would begin again. They came to a door at the end of the long aisle and entered, finding themselves in a room on the outside of a giant cage. The counter before them had two men behind it, one looking down over a newspaper and another with a clipboard in hand, ticking off items as he inspected the contents of the cage. Guns. Everywhere there were different sizes and shapes of handguns, rifles, shotguns, the walls of the cage were lined with them, and in stacks and crates were boxes of ammunition. With the sudden rise of noise and then it's decline with the closing of the door, the man at the counter looked up from his paper, eyes going wide at the sight of Loki. He looked at Clint after a moment and tried to put himself together. Clint stepped up to the counter and rested his arms on it.
"I need a .223 and a .22 pistol."
The man in his too-big camouflage shirt stared at the god and Clint looked at him with a straight face.
"Don't look at him; look at me."
The man became flustered and he pointedly looked away from the god, meeting Clint's eye.
"Loki," the archer said calmly, not looking away from the man behind the counter. "Grab a couple of those earmuffs off the wall."
Loki obeyed and went to the peg-holed wall lined with randomly colored earmuffs and he picked out a set and went to Clint's side, waiting pleasantly. The man still stared into Clint's eyes, not really seeing him but keeping Loki in his peripheral vision. Clint cleared his throat and shot his eyebrows up at the guy expectantly.
"Well?"
The guy jumped out of his seat and scurried into the depths of the cage after a hurried apology, shoving the one taking inventory out of his way. He came back to set down the two guns, one rifle and one pistol, and then he backed away for boxes of ammunition. In the meantime, Clint had reached over the counter and floundered around for a leather bound book, dragging it onto the counter and going back to fish for a pen as well. He flipped to a half filled page and began to fill it out with the necessary information while they waited. A couple thin cardboard boxes of bullets were slammed onto the counter, making the archer glance up at the man, unimpressed. Loki seemed amused by the antics of the man and he leaned his arm on the counter beside Clint.
"What's your name?" He asked the man.
"Justin Holt... sir."
Loki looked askance at the archer who was gathering up the weapons and ammunition. "Remember that name, Agent Barton."
"Yeah, I got it," he grunted and jerked his head for Loki to follow him out of the vault, leaving Justin Holt turning white in his seat.
They moved down the long aisle again, going all the way to the end where the last two stalls were unoccupied. He backed Loki into the last one and set the pistol and one of the boxes on the ledge of the firing wall. He put his rifle and bullets in the stall beside Loki's and then came back and gestured down the open range where a paper with rings of color hung waiting.
"This is the range," Clint said. "And like when you first saw my bike, we're gonna do safety stuff first. Ready?"
Loki began rolling up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt and nodded.
"When you're not shooting, leave the gun on the counter. Don't point it anywhere other than downrange, and leave the safety on until you're ready to shoot. See this lever?" He picked up the pistol and clicked a small latch on the side of the gun. "That's the safety. 'On' means the safety is on and it's not going to shoot even if you try to pull the trigger, which is this piece." He tapped the crescent moon shape of metal that was the trigger.
"This is the magazine-" he clicked a button and pulled out a hollow stick of metal, setting the gun on the counter again and holding the magazine up between them. "It holds 10 bullets; you load them yourself." He opened the box beside the gun and pulled out one bullet, thumbing it into the magazine and passing it to the god to finish loading the other 9. Loki, when finished loading, held the full magazine out to Clint but he declined to take it.
"I'm gonna let you put it in," he explained and placed the pistol in Loki's other hand, smirking at the suggestive look the god gave him. He guided Loki through the steps of loading the magazine into the gun and pulling back the chamber to set the first bullet in. He swore he had never been more turned on after seeing Loki slap the mag into place and snap the chamber back.
Clint took the liberty of having the first shot, explaining to the god his stance and where to focus his eyes and adjust the gun by degrees down the sights. Then he squeezed the trigger and popped off a bullet, sending the round through the target dead center. He turned back to Loki after clicking the safety on and setting it on the ledge.
"You never miss," the god murmured, voice almost lost in the din of shots through the range.
Clint shrugged. "Well, I ain't just good with arrows. Ready to try it?"
"Why do you have such a larger weapon than I?"
"That's because it's a two-two-three: a big bullet with a lot of power behind it. This is a twenty-two; it'll still kill ya, but it's a small caliber round. It's good for beginners- there's not much kick and it's not too loud. Kick is recoil- how far and hard the gun will push back against you because of the force of the bullet. You get to use the .22 until you get used to it, work on your aim. Then you can try mine."
He scooted out of the way so Loki could close in on the weapon and pick it up. He stretched out his arms, one hand wrapped around the grip and the other supporting it, and while the pistol wasn't heavy for him in the least, his automatic reaction was to lean back as he aimed. Clint corrected him immediately by pressing up behind him, straightening the god and mirroring his arms over the other's.
"You don't have to lean back, try to lean forward to counteract that urge." He pressed his lips into the god's shoulder, peeking over him to see the target. As he did this, his heart thrummed at the thought that anyone, especially the range safety officer, could come up behind them at any second and see their position. While there was not much odd about correcting the stance of a new shooter, the extremely close proximity of the rehabilitating god and his handler would certainly raise questions. Clint told himself that was why he picked the last stalls on the range, so they could have some semblance of privacy. He huffed hard against the god's shoulder to clear the thoughts from his head.
"Take the safety off," he reminded the god and Loki's finger moved to click the switch. "Okay, now use the sights to aim. Try to put the bullet through the center like I did. When you have your aim, exhale and shoot. Don't hold your breath."
Loki nodded and adjusted the gun, looking down the barrel of the pistol and lining up the red dot at the end to the white ones on the sight. Clint let his arms down from the god's, letting him take his time, and he took a chance at running his hands down Loki's front, trailing them to his hips in a gentle motion. Loki pulled the trigger and jumped a little, chuckling at himself for his foolishness. Clint smiled at him.
"Easy right?"
"Not so much to aim though," the god admitted with disappointment as he noticed the bullet hole in the target very far off from the center. "I rather thought I'd have better aim than that- I throw knives as my weapon of choice."
"Don't get too upset." Clint took the weapon out of the god's hand and set it on the counter. "Throwing knives are a whole different ball-game. That's about muscle movement and timing. I can't throw a knife to save my life, but I can shoot a hummingbird through the heart at a hundred yards with my bow."
He backed away a step and grabbed the plastic and rubber earmuffs off the ledge and wrapped them around Loki's neck.
"So, work on your aim; I'm gonna work on mine, and wear these while I'm shooting: it's loud as fuck and you don't wanna be like me and have 40 percent of your hearing gone. Alright?"
Loki nodded with a slight smile. "Alright."
"Okay," he grinned and moved out of the stall, going into the one next to Loki's and starting to load up the magazine for his rifle. Loki peeked around the corner and spied on Clint as he set up, watching his arms bulge as he hefted the sleek, black rifle to his shoulder and tilted his head to look down the sights. Loki fixed the earmuffs around his head. The shot exploded out of the weapon and Loki jumped at the booming noise, still somewhat loud even through the muffs. Clint wasted no time and continued to shoot steadily, taking his aim and never missing. Loki smiled and turned back to his small pistol and took it up again, concentrating as he aimed and fired at the far off target. He went through the he box of ammunition, fixing his aim steadily as he went. By the end, his grouping was decidedly better than when he started, but the god was getting the hang of it.
Loki breathed hard through his nose and inspected the pistol with its chamber stuck back to indicate there was nothing left in the clip to shoot. He grabbed the barrel to pull the chamber back into place and hissed as he jerked his hand back at the fierce burn it gave his fingertips. A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around. Clint's eyebrows were knit together and he reached out to pull Loki's earmuffs down.
"-can't touch that so soon: it's hot."
Loki frowned as he touched his burnt fingertips together. "I noticed."
"Well that was my bad I guess; I didn't warn you ahead of time. Finish it all?" Clint looked over to the target and its plethora of bullet holes. He hummed and bobbed his head. "Looks better than the first ones. Wanna try mine?"
Clint didn't wait for the god to answer before he scurried into his stall and came back with his rifle and the half-empty box of rounds. He thrust it into Loki's hands and got behind him to set him into position.
"This one you hold against your shoulder," he explained as he jabbed the butt of the gun into the tall one's shoulder. He grabbed his long fingered hand to grip the forestock. "Support the barrel here. This you can touch, it won't burn you if you shoot a lot. Sighting is the same- line up the dots. Here-" he pulled the earmuffs up over Loki's ears again and patted his shoulder. "I already loaded the mag," he shouted through their ear protection. "Just aim and shoot." He backed away a step and let the god concentrate. When the shot rang out and the gun punched back into Loki's shoulder it took the breath out of him for a moment, and he didn't even search for his hole in the target. He looked down at the rifle in amazement, a small smile turning into a triumphant smirk and he turned his head to the archer who waited for his opinion.
"What did you think?"
"I think I would rather shoot this one instead of that puny weapon. Are there any bigger than this?"
Clint chuckled, "Oh yeah: gattling guns, rocket launchers, tanks, bombs. There are bullets as big as my fist." When Loki's eyes widened with excitement Clint held up a hand to hold him off. "You don't get to try any of those. We'd need an outdoor range for those and I don't think anyone would let you handle them anyways- you apparently like big firepower and that's just gonna make everyone nervous. You can keep shooting this one though."
Loki snorted as he looked down at the rifle with a smile. "I'm not sure if I should."
Clint's smile disappeared. "Why not?"
"Unless you know a place here we could be alone afterwards..." Loki leered at the archer and breathed deep, subtly inching forward to back Clint into the partition of the stall, sliding a long leg in between the archer's thighs and gently rubbing his clothed erection against his hip. Clint huffed at the grind of the god against him and he braced his hands flat against the wall behind him, glancing at the open walkway where anyone could simply stroll by and see them.
"Jesus. It gets you that hard?"
Loki groaned quietly as he pushed into the smaller man's hip and chuckled breathily, "Yes."
Clint tried to take calming breaths as his eyes rolled back in his head when the god squeezed his fingers over Clint's length through his jeans. When his head bumped the wall it broke him out of his lusty haze and he grabbed Loki's hips to stop him.
"Can't do this right now," he whispered.
"Then when?"
"I don't know," Clint shook his head softly. "Not here though, we can't risk it."
Loki huffed through his nose and let off the smaller body reluctantly. "Then I suggest I don't shoot your weapon again."
Clint chuckled and agreed, sighing with a smile at the god's power-lust as he tugged the magazine out of the rifle and popped the round in the chamber, clicking on the safety latch. He double checked the pistol for it's safety and took it and the box of .223 rounds out of the stall, motion Loki to follow him. They went back into the weapons holding cage and returned the guns and ammo to the still frightened clerk, Holt. Clint signed the weapons back in the large leather book and Loki hung the earmuffs on their hooks on the wall before they left the range, heading up the giant staircase to the second floor.
Along a long wall of windows were several computer terminals, all separated by tiny walls on the desks. There were fifty terminals down this wide hall, doorways on the other side leading to places Clint never went, didn't know where they led. Most likely rooms of physical files, maps, what-have-you. It was a lofty place with it's big windows letting in the sunlight, giving the area a calm glow as agents passed in and out. As they strolled past the terminals, Loki took a gander at every occupied screen, looking in just for a second over the agents' shoulders. At the very end of the line sat Natasha, using the one computer that was turned sideways from the rest, protecting her from curious passers-by. She leaned into the makeshift cubicle with concentration on her face and slowly crossed out words on a stack of paper. Clint moved to stand behind her, setting his hand on the back of her chair and leaning in to check what she was doing.
"Get anything yet?" he asked as she scrolled down the screen, rolling away from the picture of a young blonde and her name and basic information.
Natasha shook her head. "Not really. Couple possibilities- slim possibilities. They're not important." She hummed in disappointment and looked down at the stack of papers, lining out the girl's name she had apparently cleared. It wasn't a few sheets of paper either.
"This everyone?" Clint tapped the stack with one finger.
"Yep." She typed in the next name and started scanning the file that popped up.
Loki moved to stand near the window, out of the large aisle and nearer to Clint and Natasha. He peered out the window disinterestedly.
"Well, maybe it's not an inside job then," the archer suggested. "Could've been some hit meant for me- you don't know. Maybe Torinto's got it out for me again."
"Hey guys," said a man behind them, making Clint's muscles twitch for his bow.
Clint turned and wished he hadn't, seeing the man's oval face and bald head, he wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. He turned back to the computer and Natasha hadn't turned around at all, continuing to search the database of personnel.
"Hey, Sitwell," Clint grunted.
Sitwell smiled stupidly and leaned in to see the screen.
"Checking up on your coworkers, Agent Romanov?"
Natasha didn't miss a beat, scrolling through the paragraphs of intel. "I'm looking for a replacement in my team- Clint's retiring to spend his old age in Hawaii with Loki."
Clint didn't look amused by her joke, and Sitwell leaned back and looked at Loki with surprise, who played along.
"Agent Romanov, we didn't want to announce our engagement to the help," he complained.
Natasha shrugged. "No one told me." She crossed off another name.
Sitwell looked back and forth between Loki and the agent with a small smile, seemingly pleased with their camaraderie.
Down the hall, a shout rang out and everyone in the hall froze for a moment, and then continued on their way again without interest.
"Agent Barton!" A woman with her hair in a tight bun and even tighter catsuit came barreling down the hall in her tall wedge shoes, looking furious. She stomped up to Clint and waved a paper in his face.
"What is this?"
Clint grabbed the edge of the waving sheet to hold it still and he read it.
"A bill," he told her.
"What the hell are you doing sending a bill to SHIELD for a couple hundred dollars?!"
Clint crossed his arms. "Those were books from the library that got shredded during the ambush at my place. I sure as hell ain't paying for that- wasn't my fault."
"Books? I haven't seen you read anything since we've worked together- I didn't even think you could read!"
"Well, that's a low blow, Agent Hill," Clint accused.
"You didn't graduate high school," Loki chimed in and Clint glared at him.
"You shut up. Hill, did Fury bump you down to accounting after that shit with Hungary? Is that why you're bringing this to me?"
Hill fumed and waved the paper in front of him again before storming off and shouting, "We are not paying for this, Barton!"
"Well, I ain't paying for it!" Clint shouted after her, disturbing all the people at their terminals. "Someone has to- Loki doesn't have any money!"
Agent Hill left the hall in a flurry and everyone turned back to their work after giving the group at the end of the line a glance of shock.
"Your money is his money," Natasha deadpanned and Sitwell chuckled at the inference, making Clint scowl at the bald man.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Sitwell? Getting some glasses that don't look like they were made in the 70's maybe?"
The agent rolled his eyes at Clint and walked away, giving a curt farewell to the three at the terminal. Clint huffed and watched him go, shaking his head and frowning.
"Hate that guy," he grumbled. "Gives me the fucking creeps- he's too happy."
Natasha leaned closer to her screen and agreed with him noncommittally.
"Been trying to be my friend ever since Coulson died. Fuckin' weirdo."
Natasha got up and grabbed her stack of papers, telling Clint to follow her as she made her way to one of the doors across the hall, typing in a code next to it and waiting for the little red light to turn green and beep at them. She entered the room, and Clint and Loki followed her in, staying back against the empty wall in the tiny room and letting the red-head start unlocking the file cabinets there. She flicked through the folders of one cabinets.
"Thought you didn't like him because he always asked about your sessions."
"That too!" Clint flicked his hands up and then down in exasperation. "Always asking if it was going well, saying he could get me another shrink if I wasn't okay with Winchester. And he would bring up Coulson all the time too! Like he thought I could forget he was dead."
"What is this room?" Loki asked suddenly, cutting through Clint's rant.
Natasha found the file she was looking for and she pulled it out, flipping it open on the small table behind her and sitting down to read through it.
"High-security personnel files. People who work for SHIELD with a high clearance or those who are off the books officially, but still get work under the table."
Clint was taken aback, a little incredulous. "You got clearance that high to be in here?"
She turned a page in the file slowly and didn't look up. "Fury's letting me borrow his clearance: I told him my theory."
"And he believed you?" Clint scoffed.
She breathed deep and finally looked away from the papers, leaning back in her chair to look at the archer. "Makes you think twice about my plan, doesn't it?"
Clint growled and tried not to roll his eyes. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't really care if it was someone in SHIELD trying to bump Loki off- they'd never be able to do it anyway. There were too many people protecting him because of Clint's life in the balance.
"Well, I made my appearance, walked around with him in plain view: I'm going home." He nudged Loki and started for the door, telling the agent he'd see her another day and they left her in the high security vault, heading back to the motorcycle awaiting them in the garage, and then to Clint's apartment.
Loki went right to the window in the kitchen and opened it, leaning against the counter and breathing in the air that whooshed in. He pulled down the tiny succulent plant and dribbled some water into it's earth from the faucet and then put it back on the sill. He bit at his lip as he stared at the opposing building, looking at every brick and it's slightly different color. The woman's window across the way was shut.
Clint peered into the kitchen and looked concerned at the god, who was sighing gently almost back to back, deep in thought.
"You okay?"
Loki deferred the question and didn't turn to face him. "How long have you lived in this house?"
"Uh... couple years." The question took Clint by surprise. He went to the fridge and pulled out a soda.
"And before that?"
"Another apartment. Down the city."
Loki blinked slowly and sighed again.
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is you live in a cage. This living space- it's one minuscule window for natural light and clean air, it's tiny rooms- it is a prison. You are a man who yearns for space to roam and the natural world at your feet, and yet you chain yourself to this place. Why?"
Clint watched the god carefully and sipped his coke. He leaned back on the fridge.
"I live here because it's near HQ. Gotta be close to the job."
"And what is your job?"
The archer shrugged. "Helping people, taking out bad guys. Making the world safe one day at a time."
"Is it?" Loki finally turned to look at Clint, seeking something in his eyes but he wasn't sure what just yet. "From what I've seen, from what I know from our time under the Tesseract- I would say you are working for those who would seek to take over the world."
"Oh really?" Clit scoffed.
"Yes!" Loki hissed. "Your SHIELD is systematically destroying all threats large enough to topple them. Wiping out anyone who might disrupt your so-called 'American way' of life." Clint snorted at Loki's opinions but the god continued on: "Those who can't be killed- they're recruited: who are the Avengers?"
This stopped all Clint's sneering and he thought about what the god had said. Clint wasn't one of those who had begun killing or working for gangs, hunted by SHELD. He'd joined after a carefully worded speech from Agent Phil Coulson, something about 'utilizing his special skill set' to 'free the good, common people', like him, from the 'tyrannical fear of the evil of man'. It had been a hell of a speech and Clint was a little sad that he fell for it. It didn't matter how you worded it- he was killing. Just as the bad guys were. The archer felt like he was beginning to understand the hypocrisy claimed by Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. All of the Avengers had killed, and killed many. They had all been threats to society at one point, but they had regret and that's what SHIELD latched on to. The guilt and regret all the Avengers bore made them believe they had to give something back to the world; and protecting it from harm, killing SHIELD's threats assuaged that guilt. Clint believed he was tired of taking orders from whomever thought they were right and the others wrong. In the end, they were all wrong.
Loki seemed to be able to read Clint's thoughts as though they were rolling past his eyes like a billboard in Times Square. He made no jeering remarks or sneers, but he squinted at the archer and waited. Clint shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"What's it matter? Why are you asking me this?"
"I want to know why you stay with SHIELD. You could very well make your own way doing whatever pleases you- yet you lock yourself in a prison to await their beck and call like a servant."
"You didn't seem to have a problem when I was your servant. And there wasn't any difference anyways- I changed employers but it was the same business. You used me just like SHIELD uses me."
Loki nodded in understanding and sighed, giving in to the archer. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, your SHIELD and myself are not quite so different. Both meddling with a power far beyond our control and appreciation. This is that sameness you feel. The Director tells you to shoot and you ask how many times. I command you to kill and you ask how many people. The Tesseract merely drew you into it's warmth with fierce addiction, and with me as it's spokesman you endeavored to serve me in any way to get close to it again."
Clint seemed unable to catch his breath, breathing heavily as though he had been running, but he was something like scared and angry together.
"But you are no longer under the Tesseract and now you see the similarities and you know how disgusting you feel inside for not seeing it sooner. I asked you once before if you would have joined me had I asked it of you, rather than simply taking your choice away, and you said you would not. Because I was the enemy. But you see now that you are choosing from the lesser of two evils. Are you still content to stay with those that would use you for their own agenda?"
"SHIELD doesn't have an agenda, Loki."
The god shook his head and didn't quite smile as he walked away into the living room.
"If you say so." And he dropped onto the couch and flicked on the television.
Clint scoffed and felt a little bewildered and confused, feeling like he'd lost the argument but he wasn't really sure how. Wasn't even sure what it was about. He skulked around the corner and watched Loki watch a nature show, seeing a zebra being devoured by a lion who tried to fight off hyenas at the same time. He went to sit beside him on the couch, resting his chin on his fist with a furrowed brow.
"Should I sleep on the sofa tonight?" Loki asked softly and Clint chuckled in surprise.
"No. I think we can survive a little disagreement without sending someone to the doghouse."
Clint's phone buzzed and he looked at it, a text from Natasha. He replied and then he stretched and groaned.
"I could watch this shit all night."
Loki hummed in agreement and Clint called the nearest pizza delivery joint.
In the soft sounds of the television, flashing light in the darkness, Clint slumped on the couch, face slack but his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He looked over at the god beside him and followed the curve of his neck, watching him sleep with his head leaning on the back of the couch. He thought about Loki's first time in the apartment, when he wandered throughout and was astonished at how little space there was. He remembered Loki's easy gait in the forest, looking at every single plant and life form with pleased curiosity. No matter how out of place the god looked amongst nature, no matter how technologically savvy and quick-learning he was, Clint slowly realized that his tiny apartment- his contained life was draining Loki.
Clint clicked the television off and veiled them in darkness, only the barking of a dog and an occasional passing car heard from the kitchen window. The archer looked down at his hands in his lap and sat, not wanting to move yet. Loki's breathing changed when he woke up, opening his eyes into slits as he realized Clint was still with him. He sighed sleepily.
"I'm sorry. More tired than I expected apparently." He got up with a groan and walked away into the bedroom, leaving Clint to slowly follow behind him. Clint leaned against the door frame and watched the god get undressed and change into his black pajamas, flipping back the mandala patterned comforter and the sheet and sitting gently. He looked up questioningly at the man watching him and Clint bumped off the frame to stand at his feet, arms dangling limply at his sides.
"Are you coming to bed?"
Clint blinked out of his stupor and nodded shakily, clearing his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I am." Though he didn't move to get undressed. He just stared down at the god's legs.
"My words are giving you pause," Loki assessed.
The archer clicked his tongue and pursed his lips as he folded his arms together.
"I've already thought about most of it before. Just, when you say it- it makes me... Uncertain of what the hell I'm doing. What I've been doing. You were right when you said I like space, like to be outside, and it doesn't make sense for me to be so..."
Clint sighed and couldn't believe what he was saying. "I doesn't make sense for me to be so loyal to SHIELD when they keep me-"
"In a cage?" Loki supplied and Clint sighed hard.
"Yeah."
Loki nodded and then scooted back, slipping his feet under the sheets.
"Come to bed," he told the archer softly. "We will discuss this further in the morning."
He pulled the covers over his body and turned onto his side as Clint went about undressing as well and climbed into bed. He laid on his back for an indecisive moment before sliding over to the god and flinging his arm over him. He nuzzled the back of the pale one's neck and gently bit at the knob of spine that protruded. Loki chuckled and swatted back at Clint's leg.
"Stop that- I'm sleeping."
Clint smiled and pressed his forehead against the back of Loki's neck, closing his eyes.