Loki was in the same place when Thor got out. He sat propped up in the plastic chair like it was made of gold, by far the most elegant in the ensemble of nervous parents and ailing patients-to-be, flicking absent-mindedly at his iPhone's screen to pass the time. Over his shoulders he had the coat Thor had lent him earlier when he'd lost his pullover, which was now sitting in an ASDA bag by his feet.

Thor was admittedly a little surprised that he hadn't booked it when he had the chance.

The day was getting on and the atmosphere in the waiting room had a cool finality to it; the natural light flooding in through the floor length windows was grey and constant. There was a bustle at one end. Thor was pretty sure somebody'd been stabbed.

Thor walked straight towards Loki, who noticed and reacted to him faster than Thor would've liked. Loki's face tended to close up when he was conscious of others' attention on him.

It closed up even tighter when, standing to meet him, Loki first saw the cast clamped around Thor's left wrist. He set his jaw and nodded slightly, guilt returning to his demeanor.

'It's not so bad,' Thor explained as he filled out insurance forms at the front desk.

'I'm right-handed. And it gives me an excuse to skip training for a while. Also…,' he nodded at the receptionist as they walked away, 'I think they bought my… y'know… bus story.'

Loki had been acting fairly impassive since Thor had returned, but at this, he hesitated to flash Thor his trademark smirk, cocked eyebrow included. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't have to. Thor knew exactly what Loki's opinion of his little tale was.

Thor just grinned and rolled his eyes, embarrassed. 'OK, OK,' he said. 'Let's get out of here.'

Loki had taken the liberty of parking the corvette in the most far-removed and unobtrusive place he could find within the hospital parking lot. This was great, Thor thought, in terms of his being protective of the car, but not so great when the hike to it was probably longer than the drive home would be.

Loki occupied him with hesitant inquiries about what the doctor had said ('hairline fracture, mild concussion, no, don't bother your GP about it') as he navigated them both to the back of the basement floor. When they reached the convertible Thor saw that Loki must've returned to it at one point to raise the roof, but seeing as it was getting cold again, they didn't bother with the hassle of forcing it down for the journey.

The pair slid into the car in unison and Loki put it in gear immediately.

'So,' they both said at the same time. Thor raised his eyebrows and tried not to grin again. 'I,' they both said. 'You-'

Exasperated, Loki took a deep breath and put up his hand. 'I'm going to drive you home.' Thor kept his mouth shut. Loki made sure no one was headed their way and began to pull out. 'Regrettably,' he continued, 'this model didn't come with a satnav built in, so we'll have to use my phone. If you could be so kind-'

'I actually know how to get back to my place from here,' Thor explained. 'Medic friends and all that. The hospital's University run.' Loki nodded.

'Anyways, Loki. Thanks for the offer, but are you going to be alright, getting back on your own? I don't live in halls. I mean, I'm in USA, and I do live right next to the halls. But do you know that area? Can you get home from there? Which college are you in, by the way?'

'I'll be fine on my own. I can walk to the Synagogue from the USA halls. I left my bike there earlier, so I need to pick it up, and then I can just ride it home.'

'OK. Thanks again, I guess.'

Loki just nodded.

There was a just barely comfortable silence in the car. Loki gazed, stalwart, at the road ahead, while Thor drummed his good fingers on his thigh. He picked at the drying cast. Then he glanced at the volume dial on the radio.

'You don't mind, if I-' Thor gestured at the knob.

Loki shook his head, not shifting his gaze. He looked almost determined to not engage in conversation. 'Go ahead.'

Thor saw to it that they made small talk all the way home.

Loki seemed a lot more somber now than before. Still a little on edge, and more than a bit morose. Perhaps the mellowness was a good thing. All the nervous energy was gone from him, at least.

Thor himself was running out of steam. He just wanted to get home.

On the other hand, it couldn't be denied that Loki was a good conversationalist no matter what mood he was in. It was surprising, really, that for someone who was so unobtrusively quiet most of the time, he actually had so many quips on hand.

They discussed the new term, and (obviously, this was Britain) the weather, and the fact that Loki was a grift (and, oh, what was that like? Did he have a studio apartment?). It was uncovered that Thor's favorite album was Mothership by Led Zeppelin, but he had a good ear for new music too, and could appreciate the indie sort of stuff Loki seemed to like. Yes, Loki'd heard the CHVRCHES song that came on the radio too, Loki had their poster. No, Thor didn't know Passion Pit. Apparently that was a shame. Either way, they both could agree that Hendrix was a god, if grudgingly on Loki's part.

Thank goodness, Thor thought.

Loki parked the car swiftly, more used to maneuvering it by now, and handed Thor the keys as they walked together towards the foyer of his apartment building. Once he was in, Thor turned to face Loki over the threshold, mustering up the courage to say what he wanted to say next. Loki, similarly, looked like he was stumbling to choose the right words.

Loki just ended up trying to apologize again.

'Forget about it,' Thor told him. 'Honestly, Loki, just… forget it. Look.' He paused. 'Um…'

Thor covered his eyes with his right hand and sighed in frustration, then pulled it away to gesture outwards in an almost placating motion as he spoke. 'I don't… obviously the last thing I want to do is pressure you, but, the thing is… it's been a long day, and, I mean it's the evening now, you wasted your whole day, and in my flat I have all this food… and it's going to go off, and, um, my roommates, they're out of town on this… anyways, it doesn't matter. But, well, heh, if you really want to make things up to me…' he glanced up at Loki, who was staring right at him, completely unamused by the lame attempt at humor. Loki looked as if he absolutely couldn't believe what he was hearing. Thor just decided to finish it off and stop embarrassing himself. 'Maybe,' he said, 'you would consider coming upstairs for a bit? Having a bite to eat, and a rest, and letting me pay you back?'

Loki took a very long time to respond.

Thor certainly had a lot of nerve to him. Loki couldn't believe he was asking something like this after what had literally just happened.

Loki also couldn't remember the last time he had willingly acquiesced to an invitation to enter another person's living space. And even then he would have done it armed in some way, physically or psychologically, and for some sort of business purpose. Never… social.

On the other hand, Loki did owe Thor, a lot. And Thor seemed to be acting genuinely, and out of kindness.

The thing was, as stupid as it may be given his previous irrational fear of him, Loki really did trust Thor. Relative to everyone else in his life, at least.

And he was tired of being alone all the time. In class, at home. He deserved a change.

Call it a leap of faith.

Thor was blushing deeply now, and he dipped his head, guilty. 'I'm sorry. That was… incredibly bullheaded of me. I'll just… I'll just go. Goodnight, Loki.'

'Wait,' Loki said, his voice catching Thor as he turned. He looked to the side. 'Something to eat sounds good. Just a bite.'

Thor's handsome face, so rarely schooled into expressionlessness, lit up again, in that all-encompassing beam. He stepped aside to allow Loki into the building and guided them through towards the elevator. After he'd manually opened the lift door, Thor took Loki's coat.

It was Thor's anyways.

Thor's apartment was lovely but sloppy. Warmly lit, crammed full of odds and ends, but not claustrophobic. Loki could have predicted all this, though. Thor was obviously not one for neatness, and it was apparent immediately that his roommates were all of a similarly untidy disposition. Through the kitchen door he could see timetables and schemes pinned to walls and the fridge door that indicated some attempt at routine, but obviously, whatever they had to say was generally ignored.

The apartment was large (which made sense, given that it had so many occupants), and it sported the energetic lived-in feel that Loki had always failed to achieve in his own flat. Probably because he was trying too hard. The front hall extended all the way to the bedrooms at the back, with a broken shoe rack and walk-in coat cupboard where Loki left his things. From the entrance, the first room to the right was the kitchen; after that came a toilet, and on the left there was a very large living space which lead through to a dining room at the back.

As he picked his way through the clutter on the floor to follow Thor, who was trying to motion him into the kitchen and deal with some of the mess at the same time, Loki tried to remember the names of Thor's friends.

'Do you flatshare with Anthony Stark?' he asked, leafing through some schematics that'd been left carelessly on a countertop. Stark was famous in the engineering department for his mechanical ingenuity, among other things. Doubtless he'd one day follow his mogul father into the weapons industry.

'Yep,' said Thor, who had his nose in a crockery cupboard. 'And Steve Rogers. Clint and Tash – sorry, that's Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff – they don't actually live here but they're always around. Oh, and of course there's Bruce Banner, he's Tony's friend and a bit of a recluse. Maybe you know him, he's a scientist too. Medicine, I think.'

'Medical physics, actually,' Loki corrected, but he wasn't really paying attention any more. He'd become distracted by the assortment of rich aperitifs, tarts and pastries scattered around the room's available horizontal surfaces. Thor hadn't been kidding when he said he had food to spare. Someone must've thrown a very expensive party and overestimated the catering requirements. That had to be it, actually – there were three mostly empty tequila bottles in the trash, and there'd been more booze out in the hall.

Thor hummed in thought and handed Loki a plate and cutlery, turning back to the fridge. 'Help yourself,' he said. 'Drink?'

Loki stiffened and eyed the fridge's beer rack. He didn't drink. He never had. He didn't like the vulnerability that he knew came with it, or the way alcohol could make certain people behave. On the other hand, he wasn't sure whether he was socially obligated to accept. Sitting around drinking beer to pass the time seemed to be something of a tradition for male college students. 'I prefer water,' he commented, hesitantly.

Thor must've noticed Loki's reaction because he tactically replaced the bottle he'd picked up for himself and filled up two glasses at the tap. Then he made himself comfortable at the small table that fed into the countertop and munched on a pain au chocolat, eyeing Loki as he skulked his way around the room like an inquisitive cat.

Loki found it very difficult to just take food from a stranger. Well, almost stranger. Despite Thor's reassurance, he felt as if he was abusing some serious boundaries, even through his presence in Thor's home. He certainly wouldn't have invited Thor back to his place, or let him take his food.

In the end Loki resolved to have a bit of everything that'd already been partially eaten, eager to try it all but not wanting to start a new dish.

He wondered out loud if Thor wouldn't mind him having a macaroon.

'Honestly, Loki, help yourself. It's not even mine, it's all Tony's, and he's… well, he's loaded. He probably doesn't even remember it's here.'

Loki nodded.

'By the way,' Thor continued, completely out of the blue, 'what do you think of that car? The Chevy, I mean.'

Loki looked up in surprise. Then he finally started to eat, opting to lean against the countertop instead of sitting next to Thor. Thor spun on his bar stool to face him, mimicking him by holding his plate (which was really just a stolen saucer) above his lap.

Loki chewed on a bit of quiche as he considered the question.

He didn't know if Thor wanted to be reassured that his cool old car was indeed cool, and old, or if he wanted the real answer. It smarted a bit that Thor, who was probably completely oblivious of what he had, was fishing for compliments from Loki, who'd actually spent the last 5 months of his life trying to negotiate with a shitty vendor who wouldn't get back to him over a 67 Chevrolet corvette just like Thor's.

The thing was that the car had been almost criminally neglected. It was abuse. Almost every internal component had at one point been torn out and replaced with something newer and cheaper; Loki had been able to tell almost the moment he'd sat behind the wheel. Practically the only part that was still original was the framework, and it was such a shame, because, in Loki's opinion, the quality of those cars had gone downhill from the release of the new model in 1968. If only it had been allowed to stay as perfect as it'd originally been. But still… oh, the things Loki could do with that car. Maybe if he undersold it drastically enough he could convince Thor to let him work on it.

But that was implausible and improbable. Besides, Thor didn't deserve to be manipulated by Loki, after what he, Thor, had done for him. Thor's car was Thor's car, and Loki wouldn't interfere.

'It's a lovely model,' Loki commented in the end, staying neutral. 'But it's… it's not the original engine, you know.'

Thor laughed out loud. 'You can say it, Loki. It's a piece of shit.'

Loki was taken by surprise. 'Well, I wouldn't say…'

Thor just raised an eyebrow at him. Loki glanced to the side, nervously scratched his ear and shrugged. 'Yeah,' he agreed eventually, smiling slightly. 'It sort of is.'

Thor put his saucer away and folded his arms. 'It was my old man's, you see. God knows what he did with it. Anyways, the thing is, it's not worth much to me. Or, as I should put it, it'd be better looked after in someone else's hands. The car is important to me, but… if it were in the hands of someone who was really dedicated, and who really cared, don't you think? I think some really great things could be done with that car. I just wouldn't know the place to start.'

Don't say anything, Loki thought, stuffing his mouth full. Don't you say a single thing. You've given Thor absolutely no reason to trust you. You don't know him. He doesn't want to let you have that car. He obviously already has plans for it. So just be quiet.

'So,' Thor continued, smiling, 'I've been trying to sell it.'

Loki had to physically bite his lip to keep himself from saying anything.

Thor grinned. 'To you.'

Loki choked on his quiche.

It took him a few moments to process what he'd just heard. He put down his plate and leaned forward, shocked. 'What?'

Was this a joke?

'For a few months now,' Thor finished. Then he leaned back with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Oh my God, Loki thought.

Oh my God. The- the thing with the bus. Thor wanting to see me earlier today. All this time…

All this time. Thor had been trying to sell Loki his fucking car.

Loki couldn't believe it. He had to be the biggest moron on the face of the Earth.

He was still leaning forward, mouth open like an idiot.

'But,' he eventually stuttered, 'but… but how-'

'Freya told me. Wait, back up. That sounds weird. She's a family friend, you see. And when I asked if she knew anyone… trustworthy… looking for a mistreated 67 'vette at a really low price, she said you'd been moving heaven and earth trying to find one, at a low price, for God knows how long, and I thought, "oh, that guy's in my lit class! It must be fate."'

'And then… and then you tried to ask me, and I…'

Loki felt a deep coldness settle upon him. He shook his head. He couldn't even meet Thor's eyes. 'God, Thor, I'm so sorry.'

'Loki. Seriously. Forget it. It's done.'

They both paused for a bit. Thor decided to take the opportunity to shovel more food into his mouth before talking again. 'Well, anyways, there you have it. It's not an L88, but-'

'Christ alive! Thor! Do you know anything about cars? Of course it's not- I- I'd have to be a millionaire!' Loki flung out his hands in exasperation.

Thor just grinned again. 'Well, are you interested?' he asked.

Loki couldn't believe that someone so painfully oblivious to the situation he was dealing with could go into it this casually. Thor seemed completely unperturbed about the whole thing. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself at Loki's expense. As if it was Loki who ought be embarrassed in these circumstances.

Loki scowled at Thor, then angrily helped himself to more pastry. He chewed in silence for a while, trying to make sense of the situation.

Then he thought, oh, what the hell.

Loki swallowed. 'What's your asking price?'

'…12?'

Loki stared at him. 'Twelve thousand pounds?'

He couldn't believe it. He literally couldn't believe his ears. Thor was insane. He had to be. That concussion was more serious than they'd thought.

Loki shook his head, numbly.

'But, listen. I know what you're thinking,' Thor said. 'But I'm not. I'm not crazy. The money… the money's just to pay back my father.' Oh, so Thor's father wasn't actually dead. That saved Loki from what would've been some pretty awkward condolences.

Thor continued. 'If I could, I'd give it to you for free. I love that car, I really do. And Freya's shown me what you've done, at the shop.

'As cheesy as it sounds, I just want to see that car reach its potential. It's been in the family for years. It has sentimental value. But it's just been rotting away. And it's not worth it to me to invest so much into it, to renovate it. But there are people… like you… who I know are willing to put in the effort, and have the time and resources to do it. So, yeah. If you like that price - and you wouldn't mind me maybe coming down to see how things are going, and, I don't know, taking pictures, maybe lovingly caressing the varnish or whatever – I can have it up in the garage by next weekend.'

Well.

Loki didn't agree immediately. They argued quietly for a while as the streets outside got darker, laying out parameters and double, triple checking things (this was mostly Loki), but eventually, Loki said that yes, please, he would like to buy Thor's car.

There were a few cons to the decision. Freya's was a safe haven to Loki. He'd have to accept Thor coming in to his personal space, and that unsettled him deeply. Thor, though, was very cautious and respectful about it all. He was obviously making a conscious effort not to be obnoxious towards Loki, having learned through trial and error what that would result in.

And in the end, the decision was worth it.

Afterwards, Loki finished his snack, which had by now turned into dinner, and insisted that he really must be off. They exchanged numbers (well, Thor got one of Loki's several numbers). At the door, Thor confessed that Freya had invited him to come up and watch a race next weekend, and that he'd love to come but apparently Loki was competing and so he wouldn't if Loki didn't want him to. Loki considered it for a while, but said it would actually be alright. He even suggested that they drive to Vanir motors together in Thor's car that weekend, as Thor wouldn't be able to get there himself, it was an hour out of town, and the racetrack was nearby.

Loki was feeling amiable.

Well, it was his fault that Thor would have the time to spare that weekend anyways.

Then Thor invited Loki to a party. Loki declined politely but immediately. 'I thought those things were only for people in USA,' he pointed out as an afterthought.

'They are,' Thor replied. 'But they let you smuggle in friends.'

'Right,' Loki nodded, and then he bid Thor good night.

When Loki got home, he shut the door to his flat and leaned his whole body against it. Despite himself, he started to smile. He felt calm and flushed at the same time; it was peculiar. He just couldn't get Thor's passing remark out of his mind. They let you smuggle in friends.

Now that he was alone in his flat, Loki could forget about the disastrous day he'd had, and all the niggling little things he had to take care of. He forgot about everything at all. Instead, he plugged his iPod into the sound system, turned it all the way up, and danced through every room in the empty apartment, not caring who saw or heard, watering his plants as he went.

I have a car, Loki thought. I have the car.

And, apparently, a friend.