9. No Face
"Hey." Hundred hesitated within Loki's doorway, and the god looked up from his book.
"Good day." Loki put down the novel and prepared to be bored by another tedious argument with the lad.
But instead the boy came in with a worried look on his face and closed the door. "I just wanted to, you know, thank you for saving me from being Kronsteig's bottom. I've been there once before, and it really, really sucks."
"Oh." Well, that was new – apparently the little scene in the dungeons had gotten Loki into the boy's good graces. He recalled the feeling of Natasha's cool fingers sliding into his pants and hid a one-cornered smile; the affair had its own advantages. Certainly he would find a way to experience her lush flesh again. "No matter. I was also saving the girl called Five as well, you understand."
Hundred cast one apologetic glance in his direction and sat, uninvited, on Loki's bed. "You have the hots for her, right? Is that why you came to Latveria in the first place?"
Loki hooded his eyes and measured the best response. "Perhaps word of the talented redhead came my way," he said cautiously.
With a long breath, Hundred collapsed back on the bed. "You could have me, if you wanted." When Loki turned to him, astonished, the boy shrugged. "What? You're really gorgeous, and you've had men in your bed before. I can tell. I'd give you anything you want – suck you for hours, if that's your game. I'm really good at it."
The lad was dark-skinned, with brown curls flopping into his eyes; he reminded Loki of the stone-spirit he had seduced centuries before. Loki of Asgard wouldn't have thought twice before pouncing on the boy, biting his neck, twisting him over, pulling his hips close so he could thrust and thrust and thrust…the very thought made him erect. Still, it seemed Loki of Latveria was a bit more cautious. "I thank you for the offer, but no," he muttered.
"Mmhm." Hundred pillowed his head with his arms and stared at the ceiling. "Oh well, had to give it a try. Even if it's what got me in trouble before in my own country. Before I came to this place."
"Did I hear the bell?" Loki hazarded. He wanted to lie back and read some more; a clearer understanding of Natasha's fierce defense of her free time came over him.
"No, that's just a swan or something out on the lake. So, yeah – when I propositioned a really beautiful boy at a party, my sexuality became public knowledge. I was popular before – had friends, dates, invites to all the parties – after it seemed like no one knew me. Like I didn't even have a face."
Loki put down the book he was sneaking a glance at and looked fully at Hundred perhaps for the first time. "No face," he mused. "I can understand that. It was much the same for me."
"Really?" Hundred sat up. "When you came out, you mean?"
"No. It was much more complex and dangerous in my case." Loki thought of some of the more outrageous things he had done and how astonished the boy would be if he knew.
"Where do you come from?"
"A land far, far away."
Hundred surprised Loki by rolling against him and throwing one arm across his waist. "Tell me," he begged.
"About my country?"
"Well, I don't mean Latveria," Hundred retorted.
"Oh. Well, there is a huge bridge into the realm. The first thing you see is the golden spires of the palace, but as you get closer you will hear the sound of cavalry and smell the sakura blossoms. Often it snows at night, and visitors wrap in furs to drink mead on the balconies…" Loki continued, the words lulling himself as well as the boy called Hundred. It was only after he went through the stables and described each of his favorite mounts he realized Hundred had fallen asleep against his shoulder.
A tap on the window made him look up; Natasha was in the ivy. He indicated the sleeping kid and made a face. She grinned, retrieved some sort of bent wire from her sleeve, and broke into his room.
"I never would have picked you as the nurturing type." She sat on the other side of bed, watching the kid sleep.
"As a matter of fact, I have three children." Loki snickered at the shock in her eyes.
"I don't know why I'm surprised – you're very handsome. Why did Hundred come here?"
Loki adjusted his body so he could cradle the boy more easily and move closer to Natasha at the same time. "He wanted to thank us for saving him from the disgusting metal doctor man. And he asked about my home, and I told him. Natasha, what is 'coming out'?"
"He told you about that, huh?" She leaned across Loki's legs and gently stroked Hundred's ankle. "In some societies having sex with someone of the same gender is frowned on. I think he went through a lot when he revealed that side of his nature to his family – otherwise known as coming out."
"Ah, that makes sense. He told me he knew I…" Loki stopped, and she looked amused.
"That you had affairs with men as well as women? Don't worry – I'm certainly not going to judge you for it. I've had my own time with women, you know – I fell in love with a few girls before."
Loki pictured her kissing and caressing another female, and his breath hitched in his throat. "Natasha," he began.
She made an inquiring noise and stretched out to lie in the circle of his arm. For a moment Loki felt warm, accepted, as though friendship could possibly be part of his world. "What's up?" she asked.
"I must admit something to you." Loki's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Okay."
"It is not very nice."
"Okay."
Loki stared at the ceiling and for the second time started to talk about Asgard, everything terrible he had done there. Perhaps describing the realm to the boy called Hundred had opened the floodgates; he told her all his petty jealousies, about cutting off Sif's hair, about seducing the stones and trees, about Angrboda and his children. In a way, it was his own 'coming out.'
Very gently she smoothed one hand over his stomach. "I think we all have dark shadows in our past here, Loki. I certainly do."
He shifted away from Hundred onto his side to face her and interlace his fingers with hers. "It gets worse. I got so drunk one night I managed to lose the friendship of everyone in the room by betraying my affairs with most of the guests in the crowd assembled there. What do you think of that?"
Natasha hunched one shoulder. "Don't remember much of my past life, but I'm pretty sure I've been there. I'm all about lots of alcohol, and I have a pretty foul mouth even when I'm sober." She played with his knuckles for a minute before asking, "But that isn't all, is it? There's something worse – a memory that burns so you can hardly bear it. Tell me."
Loki squeezed his eyes shut; he felt one tear scald his cheek. With many stops and misplaced words, he related the terrible story of what he had done to Sigyn.
"Okay." Natasha tickled his jaw with her nose. "It's bad – really bad. I won't lie to you. But you can make it better, somehow. We'll find a way." Her face was clear of hatred, disdain, pity. A shaft of knowledge speared him, and he saw he had coveted Natasha since the first sight of her in his wild youth for her bright hair, her plump lips, the careless beauty she wore like a silk gown. Now he found there was far more to her than that – her own wickedness, which she seemed to acknowledge with pure courage. A thriving intelligence. Vivid imagination. A magical innocence. In one instant his desires spilled over into something far more dangerous.
Carefully, Loki brushed his lips against her cheek. "Hey," she whispered. "The kid." He eyed the shape in the bed next to them; Hundred slept with his mouth open, snoring slightly. Loki swore, and Natasha laughed quietly. "I don't think it's our time yet in any case," she insisted. "We need to redeem ourselves first – perhaps rescue our friends and get Hundred to a safe place. Not his village – that place sucked for him. Somewhere he can be himself and not get punished for what he is."
Frustration burned his throat, but somehow Loki managed to keep his temper under control. Perhaps the events of the Sigyn affair had taught him temperance even though he burned for Natasha. "I have behaved myself since arriving here," he said into her ear. "Do I not deserve some reward?"
"I'll help you with your plans. Is that enough of a reward? You'll need to tell me all about your brother, and I'll tell you what I remember about Clint - perhaps those memories will aid us to get their asses out of the Spider Pit or whatever it's called. We need to find your other friend – perhaps your brother can help us with that part when we rescue him. Then we must find a way out of Latveria for us and for Hundred."
"A great deal to plan for." Loki felt hopelessness circle his veins.
Natasha hopped up and beckoned to him. "I want to show you something." He rose and joined her at the crumbling windowsill, and she pointed through the ivy-covered glass. "See over there, in the corner of the lake? There's one tiny island on its own, nothing more than a large rock covered with trees and grass. I've been watching it as long as I've been here. I don't know why, but I have the feeling if I can get there, I'll be safe."
He dared to slip one arm around her slender waist, feel the muscle and steel of her dancer's body. "Maybe I can come with you."
"Exactly what I was thinking." She smiled at him, and he surged forward to capture the dimple in the corner of her chin; like a flashing minnow it was gone. Loki sighed as she brushed her lips gently over his; the touch electrified him and jolted to his sex.
"So are you two a Thing now?" Hundred had woken; the boy sat up and scrubbed one eye with his fist.
"Maybe." Natasha released herself, sat back on the bed, and bumped Hundred's knee with her toe. "It's peaceful here, in the room with you two. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in forever."
"Me too." Loki stretched out between them; instantly Hundred curled up on his shoulder once more.
"Don't forget we still have to do whatever they order, with whomever they want. I hate to burst this fragmented family bubble we got going on here, but it's reality." Hundred looked up into Loki's face with a wet, searching gaze.
Loki and Natasha exchanged a grim glance. "We'll just have to deal," she said.
The kid was right. That night the entire castle was summoned to a party; Loki arrived with Hundred in tow since the boy seemed to have appropriated him. Natasha waited in the shadows with the dark girl she called Thirteen; as soon as she and Loki saw each other across the room, their eyes locked with a distinct click as though there were no others in the entire cursed land called Latveria.
The lovely cyborg called Lucia selected Natasha for a dance. Loki waited by the pillars, but he was pulled onto the dance floor by a tall, dark man with one mechanized eye. Prince Zorba maneuvered Loki around the dance floor with careless brutality, his severe good looks hinting at violent sensuality underneath.
As he waltzed with the prince and felt the man's erection on his thigh, Loki caught Natasha's eyes, again with the characteristic click as they aligned in perfect understanding. He grinned suddenly, and she smiled back, mischief patent in every line of her body.
It was then he knew. They were so alike, it didn't matter what they did with anyone else. Between them was a purity no one could touch, a stamp of desire thrumming in the very air like electric enchantment. By the Staff of the Allfather, it was magic.
So when Prince Zorba guided Loki to his chambers, undressed, and collapsed on the bed shaking with lust (a hopeless submissive, Loki realized) the act was peremptory, for no one could reach that center he had given Natasha. The god raised his hand, struck the man's cheek and received praises and promises for each blow, before he thrust into the trembling crevice and deliberately made each stroke as cruel as possible.
None of it mattered. The hidden heart of him lay beyond the waves on the little island, a secret among the trees and stones.
Much later he slipped down the ivy into Natasha's room and between her sheets. She woke at once, and Loki pulled her to his chest so he could whisper into her ear, "I couldn't sleep with the taste of Zorba on my mouth."
She nodded and allowed him to wind his arms under her neck and over her waist. "How did it go?"
Loki shrugged. "He lost his energy long before I lost mine. And you?"
"The same. Lucia again. I suppose her sensors and batt power run down too fast to keep up with me."
"Please." The longing overwhelmed him, and he cupped her face with one hand; Loki knew the pleading expression he had once seen in his lovers' eyes was mirrored on his face. "Please, please, let me…" He couldn't talk any longer; his lips trembled with desire.
Natasha's mouth quirked, and he recognized the mischief in her eyes. She was just like him, if he could lose the darkness that had consumed his body, soul, even his magic before Lucia had taken that part of him away. Loki couldn't stop the shivers in his blood, his nerves, his – yes. There too. And when she let him kiss her mouth, and when those lush lips parted so he could breathe the same air as she did, and when his tongue tasted hers for the first time, a frisson of electric energy shot down his spine to the frantic tickle between his legs.
For the first time since he was a youth by the rocks and trees, Loki reached orgasm through kiss and desire alone as he released in his breeches.