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batsutousaiTitle: Walkin' Through This World Alone
Series: Interaction
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Nimohtar
Rating: M/R
Pairings: Tom Hiddleston/Loki Odinson (off-screen Chris Hemsworth/Elsa Pataky)
Warnings: RPF (legit warning), depression (attempted suicide, eating disorders, and self-harm), drug abuse (alcohol and marijuana)
Summary: "Loki Odinson, you are hereby sentenced to Midgard for one hundred full rotations around its sun. For one hundred rotations, you will be unable to interact with any mortal; they will not see you, nor hear you, nor touch you. You will be as a ghost, corporeal, but without being. Until you have learned truly the duties you owe those of other realms as Prince of Asgard, you will be unable to access your magic, as powerless as the mortals you walk among."
Loki's punishment for his crimes left him in a living hell on Earth, where no one knew he existed.
Until, one day, someone did.
Walkin' Through This World Alone, Part One of Two
-0-
Loki liked London, he decided quickly enough. Thomas' flat was comfortable enough for the two of them, situated near enough to a commercial area to provide entertainment for Loki in the form of people to torment, but far enough that the noise didn't bother them. Thomas had also 'introduced' Loki to the members of his family that lived nearby and his agent, who had apparently already had suspicions, having heard from Thomas' driver about the 'imaginary friend' that he took out to see the sights and often bought lunch.
Loki was also introduced to an instant messenger and given Chris Hemsworth's screenname, at the actor's request. Loki found the man to be very like a younger, more studied version of Thor, and found himself having so many conversations with him that he never would have dared have with his brother, but had always wished he could.
"Now I'm jealous," Thomas teased one afternoon while they were on site for another film – or 'series of plays adapted for television', as Thomas corrected any time Loki called it a film. "You've gone and stolen my best mate."
"God's prerogative," Loki retorted with a sniff.
Thomas laughed and curled up next to him on the couch, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug. "What are you two talking about today?"
"Crocodiles," Loki replied promptly, because they had been speaking of the reptiles about twenty minutes ago, before Chris had been distracted by his wife for something. He'd not returned yet, but Loki was patient enough for such interruptions and had been looking through Twitter to pass the time.
"You two..." Thomas said with a laugh. "Wasn't it kangaroos last week?"
"Kangaroos are noble creatures," Loki replied stiffly.
Thomas chuckled against Loki's shoulder, his reddish hair tickling Loki's ear and jaw in a manner that had become more and more familiar as the months grew colder. (Thomas sometimes made comments as to the sorrows of the other actors, that they didn't have a Loki in their trailer to act as a heater after a day in the icy winds. Loki still wasn't sure why Thomas thought him at all warm, given his Jötun heritage, but it seemed he was warm enough for the mortal.) "You know," the mortal said, "looking at your face some days, I'd think you were talking about far more serious things than animals of the outback."
"Three of my children retain an animal shape; animals are quite serious," Loki defended. Though, in truth, he and Chris spoke often of more – as Thomas would say – 'serious' matters, such as becoming a father for the first time, the joys of pregnancies for both genders, and relationships in general.
"Okay, okay. Sorry," Thomas said from behind his mug. "I'm cold."
Loki took a moment to locate the blanket they kept on the couch – it had fallen over the arm next to him and pooled innocently on the floor, out of sight – then passed it over to the mortal, taking his mug so Thomas could get situated. Once he'd handed the mug back, he returned to Twitter while Thomas sipped at his tea.
Thomas had finished the mug, set it to the floor, and was dozing against Loki's shoulder by the time Chris returned. He made his usual apologies, which Loki brushed off, then asked, 'Is Tom in yet?'
'He is asleep on my shoulder. Have you need of him?'
'Nothing that can't wait a day or two,' Chris replied. Then, 'He's sleeping on your shoulder?'
'Yes. It is cold, he insists I am as a heater.'
'...right.'
Loki narrowed his eyes. 'You are not well practised in mystery.'
'LOL That wasn't mystery, Lo. It's just, Tom's tactile, but I've never known him to fall asleep on anyone. And I know he thinks you need a million hugs, and you do don't get me wrong, but he's always cuddling up with you and such.'
Loki brushed a hand over the keyboard, ridding it of some fuzz from the blanket-wrapped form at his side. Where he would have ignored Thor, had he made a similar comment, he found himself typing out, 'Is this a...poor thing?'
'I would suppose that depends on your feelings,' Chris typed, mysterious in spite of his lack in the area.
'You would do well to explain yourself, lest I send you something less than pleasant through the post,' Loki threatened.
'Oh? Is Lo planning to learn how to navigate the postal system?' Chris teased.
'Hemsworth,' Loki sent before the idiot mortal could further mock him. And why Chris thought mocking a god was good fun was completely beyond him.
'LOL Sorry. Okay. How do your people...court, I guess? Yeah, how do you court? Or show interest in courting.'
Loki grimaced.
'Asgardians, Lo,' Chris clarified, and Loki was beginning to suspect that he was just becoming easy to read.
'The initiator would approach the family of their chosen to request permission for the courting. With that permission, they would pronounce their interest to their chosen and, should they also approve, would begin in giving gifts.'
'What if the chosen doesn't have a family?' Chris asked.
Loki frowned. 'Such has never occurred in Asgard.' Æsir were long-lived, and never had one been left without a family member to turn to, not even with the many wars they created with other species for sport or because of an old claim let fall to the wayside.
Chris typed no further for so long that Loki wondered if he'd been called away again, before he sent, 'On Earth, we don't usually involve family unless one or both parties are under the legal age of consent.'
'As intriguing as this lesson in Midgardian culture is, has it a point?' Loki demanded. There was an uncertain feeling bubbling in his stomach, the urge to close the laptop like a physical need tingling along his fingers. And he was afraid, of words yet un-typed scrawling across his screen, of change in a world that had only just turned level, of losing something he wasn't even sure he had.
And Thomas breathed, warm at his side, the thrum of his heart a steady promise resonating through every point of contact between them.
'I can't speak for Tom so please don't think I am but you're important to him. He's important to you. You two are always talking about each other, Like how I talk about Elsa.'
Loki snorted. 'Oh, yes. As though Thomas would feel anything but irritation towards me.'
'You give him too little credit. And what does that say about me? I don't think you're irritating, and you're always calling me 'idiot' and threatening me.'
And this was safe, this teasing, and Loki grabbed for it. 'You ARE an idiot. And I've plans for when next we meet.'
'Oh. Great. Run these plans by Tom yet? Cause you know what he said LAST time you pranked someone.'
'I have no knowledge of such event. You are hallucinating.'
'Not working, good try.'
Thomas shifted at Loki's side, rubbing at his eyes, and Loki slammed the laptop shut, as though to hide his conversation with his brother's look-alike. "Loki?" Thomas mumbled. "Time?"
Loki glanced towards a clock on the far side of the trailer. "Nearly seven. You would do well to eat."
"Yeah." Thomas sighed, breath gusting against Loki's throat like a promise.
The god silently cursed Chris for putting such unbecoming thoughts in his mind and pushed away from the couch, smirking when Thomas let out a surprised sound and tumbled sideways. "Hemsworth had wish to speak with you," he commented as he stepped into the small kitchen area.
Thomas didn't bother sitting back up, just felt around under the blanket for the pocket he'd shoved his mobile in. "Chris?" he said once he'd dialled the number and the other end had picked up. "Loki said you wanted to talk?" He was silent for a moment before glancing down at the abandoned laptop's closed cover, then to where Loki worked in the kitchen. "He's making us dinner."
"You dinner," Loki insisted, because he wasn't certain he was hungry, the way his stomach was still reeling from Chris' words.
"Uh-huh. Both of us, Loki. Shut up, Chris," he added to the phone, then called out, "You're still too thin; we've talked about this."
Loki sniffed and pointedly turned his back on the mortal, earning a laugh from Thomas before he returned his attention to his call.
Thomas and Chris spoke for the time it took Loki to throw together a pasta salad, keeping to discussions of their The Avengers tours – which would begin in but a couple months – so far as the god could tell from the single side of the conversation he could hear. (Loki and Thomas had already spoken of the tours, the mortal making it clear that if Loki intended to come along, he would behave himself as he was expected to do on set. Thomas had no interest in letting the whole of the world know that he was living with the true Loki, and Loki had become comfortable enough in his little niche to take none of the offence that he had felt during the three months after they'd first met; being introduced to Chris and others in Thomas' life had soothed much of Loki's hurt, and his growing popularity on Twitter as the opening date approached had eased the rest.)
Over dinner, Loki fell back into the same flow of conversation he usually partook of with Thomas, casting Chris' words from his mind as he sneered at the antics of the other actors on site with them and mocked some stupidity that had popped up on Twitter that afternoon, while Thomas had been working.
It was easy until they climbed into the bed and Thomas pressed against Loki's back. Loki tensed and Thomas was suddenly still, arm not quite draped fully against Loki's side, and asked, "Loki? What's wrong?"
Loki remembered excuses for why he should share Thomas' bed once they arrived in London, why he shouldn't sleep on the couch with the pull-out, why getting a hotel room with two beds instead of one was too much trouble. "What are we?" he demanded.
"What...? I'm not sure I–"
Loki grabbed the arm hovering against his side and pulled Thomas' hand up, held it tight over his heart, as though it might help calm its racing. "This," he declared, as though it should be all the clarification needed. Then, because Thomas was mortal and never quite as quick as Loki, for all that he was clever in his own right, Loki clarified, "This contact that you insist on, this refusal to allow me my own space to sleep, curling against me on the couch when I cannot be warm, forcing me to eat, including me in everything..." Loki pulled his knees up, curling around the hand pressed over his heart. "Why?" he breathed, a plea and a prayer.
Thomas curled closer, a line of warmth tracing his spine, curling around his buttocks and pressing against the back of his thighs and calves. "I told you," he whispered against Loki's ear, "no one deserves to be alone."
"I wouldn't be," Loki admitted, because he had ways to speak with others, now, ways to interact that Thomas had given him. He would have them whether he remained in Thomas' home or returned again to the streets, for all that it would be less than now. He would miss the thrum of a mortal heart against his skin, the line of warmth that told him more surely than blood pooling from his wrists ever could that he was real, that he existed.
Thomas swallowed, the bob of his Adam's apple sliding over Loki's shoulder. "I would," he whispered, fingers curling against Loki's chest. Loki's fingers, pressed tight against the back of Thomas' hand, slipped through parted fingers and Thomas' fingers tightened against them, holding them in place as though afraid Loki would pull away. "I hadn't even realised how alone I was until you were always there." His heart thrummed, loud and afraid against Loki's back, stringing through their entwined fingers and whispering apologies just under Loki's own heart, where the mortal's wrist pressed tight against his shirt. "You can– We can look for a bigger flat, get you your own room. And I can stop–" Thomas choked on his words as Loki lifted his hand up and away from his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sor–"
"Silence," Loki ordered, bringing Thomas' palm up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against the mortal's wrist.
Thomas' fingers twitched between Loki's, then the mortal breathed relief against Loki's ear and turned to press his lips against the side of the god's throat. "Sorry," he whispered.
"Silence," Loki ordered again, returning their entwined fingers to their place over his heart. "Go to sleep, you idiotic human," he added and Thomas breathed a laugh against his neck.
-0-
Loki woke to Thomas' alarm, an obnoxious sound that he'd long grown used to dragging him from sleep. Thomas shifted behind him, pressing the button to turn the noise off, then returned to Loki's back, arm curling around his side and against his abdomen. Loki caught the mortal's hand in his and pulled it up to press over his heart, soothed by the thrum of Thomas' pulse through his shirt.
Thomas stilled for a moment before relaxing against Loki's back, chin coming to relax against Loki's shoulder. "Good morning," he breathed, warm against Loki's jaw line.
"Good morning," Loki murmured in return and they remained curled together for a good ten minutes more.
Thomas finally jerked away. "Awake," he insisted, rolling out of the bed in the other direction.
Loki sighed at the lack of warmth, but pushed up from the mattress himself. He watched as Thomas collected clothing, thinking over the changes the evening had brought. Assuming anything had truly changed. Yes, their attachment to each other was in the open now, their need to remain in contact clear between them, but that had no bearing on their actions.
'Or, it shouldn't,' Loki thought, watching as Thomas stripped off his shirt in the same familiar motion that he'd seen hundreds of times. It felt different, though, more intimate. Loki wanted to touch the mortal's skin, map out the scars that would never show on his own skin. He wanted to feel Thomas' pulse against his fingertips, no clothing in the way. He wanted, and it was terrifying and thrilling and so new, this wish to touch, to press skin-to-skin under the covers and forget hours and days cocooned in warmth and the thrumming that promised companionship as much as it did life.
A marriage of convenience and centuries of using attraction as both weapon and tool had not prepared Loki for true interest in another being.
"Loki?" Thomas called, glancing back at the god with concern in his eyes.
"I am...uncertain how to continue," Loki admitted. Because Thomas hadn't seen him at his worst, but he'd seen him pretty low, and had never thought to make fun of the god for his lack of understanding or certainty about something; if there was one person that Loki trusted to never let him down – so long as Thomas could avoid it – it was this stupid, stubborn mortal. It was, perhaps, the reason that someone with but a century to live could catch the eye of one who counted his life in centuries.
Thomas frowned, uncertain, before his thoughts sifted through Loki's words and discovered his meaning. "Oh. About...us..." He winced and brushed a hand through his hair. "I don't really know. I mean, how much has changed?"
"Nothing," Loki said.
'Everything,' lay silent between them.
Thomas set the trousers he'd been about to change into on the corner of the bed, then climbed over to Loki. "Come here," he directed and Loki let himself be pulled into the mortal's arms, the thrum of Thomas' heart loud and soothing in his ear where it pressed against his chest. "If I've learned anything," Thomas murmured, his voice reverberating in his chest, twining with his heartbeat in a way that seemed entirely too pleasing to Loki, "it's that relationships weren't meant to be easy, no matter the base we start them from. And this is, by no means, a normal sort of relationship–"
"Yes," Loki drawled, because he could. "I am a god."
"Generally considered to be a myth," Thomas agreed, resigned to Loki's complex in a way that one could be only after months of listening to someone call themselves a god and mean it. "And you're not really easily accessible to the general populace."
Loki scowled and pressed closer against the mortal, as though to hide from that particular truth of his current nature.
Thomas tightened his arms around the god, comforting and apologetic. "And there's the narcissistic aspect."
Loki snorted and pulled back to meet the mortal's eyes. "This is not a problem for me," he informed the other.
"Why not? God?" Thomas suggested, just a little mocking.
Loki sniffed. "I have slept with myself before; this is but a poor substitute."
"You–" Thomas blinked. "You slept with a clone," he stated, expression caught somewhere between horrified and amused.
"I was curious," Loki replied, unashamed. It had been an interesting experiment, though not one he would likely repeat, after how exhausted it left him.
Thomas sucked at his lip, in the way he did sometimes when he was trying not to laugh. "Of course you did," he managed in a fairly even tone.
Loki's mouth turned with mischief and he said, "I also kissed myself in the throne room. Just for the reactions."
Thomas let out a laugh and covered his face with his hands.
"Fandral's will always be my favourite," Loki mused. "He looked rather torn between horrified that I might do such a thing in public, and wishing he'd thought to do it first."
"You're absolutely dreadful," Thomas informed him, smiling behind his fingers, eyes bright with a fondness that warmed Loki in a way that little did.
"I am," Loki agreed, reaching forward and tugging Thomas' hand away from the curve of his lips. "Would you see how dreadful?"
"I already know," Thomas assured him, leaning forward.
Loki met him partway and their lips met with a tingle like magic, but not. And Loki pressed tight against the mortal, looking again for the familiar sensation that he'd spent so long without. He found it in the stroke of Thomas' tongue against his, in the touch of fingers over skin, in the drag of teeth against his throat.
"I'm going to miss my run," Thomas breathed into Loki's ear, warm and so very real.
"Stay," Loki replied, brushing his fingers over Thomas' spine, and if his words were more plea than demand, he wasn't much inclined to care at the moment.
"Yes," Thomas promised and let Loki pull him down to the pillows.
They finally made their way to the main part of the trailer some time later, Thomas hurrying for food before his call and Loki languid and pleased. "Eat something," Thomas ordered as he readied his travel mug, the teapot already heating on the stove and the toaster humming with bread.
Loki sighed from the couch, laptop balanced on his stomach and chiming as it woke up. "I will," he promised. And he would, because the mortal was entirely too difficult when he discovered that Loki had skipped a meal.
Thomas finished making his tea and butter and jam sandwich, then stopped next to the couch. "Go. Before you forget," he insisted, pressing a kiss to Loki's forehead.
Loki caught the mortal's chin and leaned up for a proper kiss, lips tingling with that brush of not-quite-magic. "Very well," he agreed, pushing the laptop to one side.
Thomas gifted him with a bright smile, then hurried from the trailer.
The morning was quiet, Loki amusing himself by taunting Chris until the mortal left him for bed, then moving on to trolling Twitter. He was forced to leave the laptop aside when Thomas returned for lunch, frowning at Loki until the god made himself something, then stealing the laptop while Loki ate.
When Thomas returned to his filming, Loki found that the mortal had updated his Twitter: 'Song of the Day: "Friday, I'm In Love", by The Cure.'
Loki smiled and quickly wrote back, 'What's this? A GOOD song for once? Did you have to steal someone's iPod?'
A few fans quickly told Loki off for being an arse, insisting that Thomas had excellent taste in music. It wasn't until about an hour later that Thomas replied, 'Borrowed your brother's.'
'Thor doesn't have an iPod. You would do well to return my musical device. Immediately.'
'Right,' Thomas sent. Then, a moment later, 'Do you want me to wipe off the horse drool first, or...?'
Loki had a long laugh, then posted to his followers, 'Apologies, my army; this mortal I would see to without your assistance. @twhiddleson' Expectedly, a number complained, but most of his followers were capable of understanding a joke and favourited his comment, or made suggestions for 'torture' methods he might use. Loki left them to it and crept outside to hunt down Thomas.
The mortal was, in fact, working with a couple horses, but he spared a grin for Loki when he spotted him picking an abandoned chair to occupy. Loki remained outside for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally leaving his stolen chair to misplace a prop or turn Thomas invisible to mortal eyes for a couple minutes. Thomas seemed torn between amusement and an odd sort of resigned irritation as they made their way back to the trailer, murmuring, "We get so much more done when you stay hidden."
"Less the amusement," Loki insisted and Thomas snorted behind his hand.
They entered their trailer and Thomas claimed the laptop, demanding, "Make me tea."
Loki snorted and did so, even though gods didn't make tea. But, then, gods didn't spend their days with mortals, or argue music tastes over the internet, either.
"Speak truly," Loki ordered as he settled on the couch next to the mortal, handing over the tea, "I am not warm."
Thomas flashed him a smile from behind his mug. "Some days, you're a bit warmer than it's been outside. But, no, generally you're no warmer than the outdoors. 'S why I always insist on tea."
There was little Loki could do about his own body temperature, but he could and did hunt down the fallen blanket to drape around Thomas before resting comfortably at his side, watching as the mortal shifted through his email.
"Here," Thomas said at last, passing the laptop over to Loki. He set his mug to the ground and curled against Loki's side, the blanket wrapped loosely around him. "Wake me in a couple hours?"
Loki glanced at the time. "Certainly."
Thomas pressed a kiss to Loki's jaw and rested his head against Loki's shoulder, breath easing as he dozed off. Loki waited until Thomas' breathing and heart had slowed to the rhythm they occupied while he slept, then turned and pressed a kiss against light hair.
With seventy more years to go – and the terrible certainty that at least some of those years would again find him alone, given how long mortals lived – it seemed odd that Loki would be content with his sentence. But with warmth curling against his side, the thrum of a heart that loved him beating next to his skin, and the tingle of not-quite-magic breathed against his throat, Loki found he was.
-0-
-0-0-0-
A/N: I...don't like this ending. Really. Ugh. But this was the best place to end this monster fic, and anything additional I added just rang...fake. So, here. Right.
This fic is the first of a series, if you didn't catch that at the top. I have another plotline that I could have, maybe, got in here, but a fair bit of time is going to pass first, and I realised it was better to just write a sequel than have a huge time-skip, or make up more little scenes between bits of plot. Especially since I have a quick little one-shot from Chris Hemsworth's PoV that takes place between the end of this fic and the start of the next. (Need to watch a couple interviews with him before I write it, though. OMG. Writing him for this fic was so hard, because I know his voice less than I know Tom's. And, Merlin, I fail at Tom's voice. I do, shut up, don't lie.)
So, Chris Hemsworth one-shot should pop up next, then the sequel. Neither have titles right now, though. Sorry.
I'm out.
~Bats ^.^x
The Interaction Series:
Part One:Walkin' Through This World Alone
Part Two: Code Name: Group Hugs
Part Three: Give This Man His Wings
..
Series: Interaction
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Nimohtar
Rating: M/R
Pairings: Tom Hiddleston/Loki Odinson (off-screen Chris Hemsworth/Elsa Pataky)
Warnings: RPF (legit warning), depression (attempted suicide, eating disorders, and self-harm), drug abuse (alcohol and marijuana)
Summary: "Loki Odinson, you are hereby sentenced to Midgard for one hundred full rotations around its sun. For one hundred rotations, you will be unable to interact with any mortal; they will not see you, nor hear you, nor touch you. You will be as a ghost, corporeal, but without being. Until you have learned truly the duties you owe those of other realms as Prince of Asgard, you will be unable to access your magic, as powerless as the mortals you walk among."
Loki's punishment for his crimes left him in a living hell on Earth, where no one knew he existed.
Until, one day, someone did.
Walkin' Through This World Alone, Part One of Two
Loki liked London, he decided quickly enough. Thomas' flat was comfortable enough for the two of them, situated near enough to a commercial area to provide entertainment for Loki in the form of people to torment, but far enough that the noise didn't bother them. Thomas had also 'introduced' Loki to the members of his family that lived nearby and his agent, who had apparently already had suspicions, having heard from Thomas' driver about the 'imaginary friend' that he took out to see the sights and often bought lunch.
Loki was also introduced to an instant messenger and given Chris Hemsworth's screenname, at the actor's request. Loki found the man to be very like a younger, more studied version of Thor, and found himself having so many conversations with him that he never would have dared have with his brother, but had always wished he could.
"Now I'm jealous," Thomas teased one afternoon while they were on site for another film – or 'series of plays adapted for television', as Thomas corrected any time Loki called it a film. "You've gone and stolen my best mate."
"God's prerogative," Loki retorted with a sniff.
Thomas laughed and curled up next to him on the couch, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug. "What are you two talking about today?"
"Crocodiles," Loki replied promptly, because they had been speaking of the reptiles about twenty minutes ago, before Chris had been distracted by his wife for something. He'd not returned yet, but Loki was patient enough for such interruptions and had been looking through Twitter to pass the time.
"You two..." Thomas said with a laugh. "Wasn't it kangaroos last week?"
"Kangaroos are noble creatures," Loki replied stiffly.
Thomas chuckled against Loki's shoulder, his reddish hair tickling Loki's ear and jaw in a manner that had become more and more familiar as the months grew colder. (Thomas sometimes made comments as to the sorrows of the other actors, that they didn't have a Loki in their trailer to act as a heater after a day in the icy winds. Loki still wasn't sure why Thomas thought him at all warm, given his Jötun heritage, but it seemed he was warm enough for the mortal.) "You know," the mortal said, "looking at your face some days, I'd think you were talking about far more serious things than animals of the outback."
"Three of my children retain an animal shape; animals are quite serious," Loki defended. Though, in truth, he and Chris spoke often of more – as Thomas would say – 'serious' matters, such as becoming a father for the first time, the joys of pregnancies for both genders, and relationships in general.
"Okay, okay. Sorry," Thomas said from behind his mug. "I'm cold."
Loki took a moment to locate the blanket they kept on the couch – it had fallen over the arm next to him and pooled innocently on the floor, out of sight – then passed it over to the mortal, taking his mug so Thomas could get situated. Once he'd handed the mug back, he returned to Twitter while Thomas sipped at his tea.
Thomas had finished the mug, set it to the floor, and was dozing against Loki's shoulder by the time Chris returned. He made his usual apologies, which Loki brushed off, then asked, 'Is Tom in yet?'
'He is asleep on my shoulder. Have you need of him?'
'Nothing that can't wait a day or two,' Chris replied. Then, 'He's sleeping on your shoulder?'
'Yes. It is cold, he insists I am as a heater.'
'...right.'
Loki narrowed his eyes. 'You are not well practised in mystery.'
'LOL That wasn't mystery, Lo. It's just, Tom's tactile, but I've never known him to fall asleep on anyone. And I know he thinks you need a million hugs, and you do don't get me wrong, but he's always cuddling up with you and such.'
Loki brushed a hand over the keyboard, ridding it of some fuzz from the blanket-wrapped form at his side. Where he would have ignored Thor, had he made a similar comment, he found himself typing out, 'Is this a...poor thing?'
'I would suppose that depends on your feelings,' Chris typed, mysterious in spite of his lack in the area.
'You would do well to explain yourself, lest I send you something less than pleasant through the post,' Loki threatened.
'Oh? Is Lo planning to learn how to navigate the postal system?' Chris teased.
'Hemsworth,' Loki sent before the idiot mortal could further mock him. And why Chris thought mocking a god was good fun was completely beyond him.
'LOL Sorry. Okay. How do your people...court, I guess? Yeah, how do you court? Or show interest in courting.'
Loki grimaced.
'Asgardians, Lo,' Chris clarified, and Loki was beginning to suspect that he was just becoming easy to read.
'The initiator would approach the family of their chosen to request permission for the courting. With that permission, they would pronounce their interest to their chosen and, should they also approve, would begin in giving gifts.'
'What if the chosen doesn't have a family?' Chris asked.
Loki frowned. 'Such has never occurred in Asgard.' Æsir were long-lived, and never had one been left without a family member to turn to, not even with the many wars they created with other species for sport or because of an old claim let fall to the wayside.
Chris typed no further for so long that Loki wondered if he'd been called away again, before he sent, 'On Earth, we don't usually involve family unless one or both parties are under the legal age of consent.'
'As intriguing as this lesson in Midgardian culture is, has it a point?' Loki demanded. There was an uncertain feeling bubbling in his stomach, the urge to close the laptop like a physical need tingling along his fingers. And he was afraid, of words yet un-typed scrawling across his screen, of change in a world that had only just turned level, of losing something he wasn't even sure he had.
And Thomas breathed, warm at his side, the thrum of his heart a steady promise resonating through every point of contact between them.
'I can't speak for Tom so please don't think I am but you're important to him. He's important to you. You two are always talking about each other, Like how I talk about Elsa.'
Loki snorted. 'Oh, yes. As though Thomas would feel anything but irritation towards me.'
'You give him too little credit. And what does that say about me? I don't think you're irritating, and you're always calling me 'idiot' and threatening me.'
And this was safe, this teasing, and Loki grabbed for it. 'You ARE an idiot. And I've plans for when next we meet.'
'Oh. Great. Run these plans by Tom yet? Cause you know what he said LAST time you pranked someone.'
'I have no knowledge of such event. You are hallucinating.'
'Not working, good try.'
Thomas shifted at Loki's side, rubbing at his eyes, and Loki slammed the laptop shut, as though to hide his conversation with his brother's look-alike. "Loki?" Thomas mumbled. "Time?"
Loki glanced towards a clock on the far side of the trailer. "Nearly seven. You would do well to eat."
"Yeah." Thomas sighed, breath gusting against Loki's throat like a promise.
The god silently cursed Chris for putting such unbecoming thoughts in his mind and pushed away from the couch, smirking when Thomas let out a surprised sound and tumbled sideways. "Hemsworth had wish to speak with you," he commented as he stepped into the small kitchen area.
Thomas didn't bother sitting back up, just felt around under the blanket for the pocket he'd shoved his mobile in. "Chris?" he said once he'd dialled the number and the other end had picked up. "Loki said you wanted to talk?" He was silent for a moment before glancing down at the abandoned laptop's closed cover, then to where Loki worked in the kitchen. "He's making us dinner."
"You dinner," Loki insisted, because he wasn't certain he was hungry, the way his stomach was still reeling from Chris' words.
"Uh-huh. Both of us, Loki. Shut up, Chris," he added to the phone, then called out, "You're still too thin; we've talked about this."
Loki sniffed and pointedly turned his back on the mortal, earning a laugh from Thomas before he returned his attention to his call.
Thomas and Chris spoke for the time it took Loki to throw together a pasta salad, keeping to discussions of their The Avengers tours – which would begin in but a couple months – so far as the god could tell from the single side of the conversation he could hear. (Loki and Thomas had already spoken of the tours, the mortal making it clear that if Loki intended to come along, he would behave himself as he was expected to do on set. Thomas had no interest in letting the whole of the world know that he was living with the true Loki, and Loki had become comfortable enough in his little niche to take none of the offence that he had felt during the three months after they'd first met; being introduced to Chris and others in Thomas' life had soothed much of Loki's hurt, and his growing popularity on Twitter as the opening date approached had eased the rest.)
Over dinner, Loki fell back into the same flow of conversation he usually partook of with Thomas, casting Chris' words from his mind as he sneered at the antics of the other actors on site with them and mocked some stupidity that had popped up on Twitter that afternoon, while Thomas had been working.
It was easy until they climbed into the bed and Thomas pressed against Loki's back. Loki tensed and Thomas was suddenly still, arm not quite draped fully against Loki's side, and asked, "Loki? What's wrong?"
Loki remembered excuses for why he should share Thomas' bed once they arrived in London, why he shouldn't sleep on the couch with the pull-out, why getting a hotel room with two beds instead of one was too much trouble. "What are we?" he demanded.
"What...? I'm not sure I–"
Loki grabbed the arm hovering against his side and pulled Thomas' hand up, held it tight over his heart, as though it might help calm its racing. "This," he declared, as though it should be all the clarification needed. Then, because Thomas was mortal and never quite as quick as Loki, for all that he was clever in his own right, Loki clarified, "This contact that you insist on, this refusal to allow me my own space to sleep, curling against me on the couch when I cannot be warm, forcing me to eat, including me in everything..." Loki pulled his knees up, curling around the hand pressed over his heart. "Why?" he breathed, a plea and a prayer.
Thomas curled closer, a line of warmth tracing his spine, curling around his buttocks and pressing against the back of his thighs and calves. "I told you," he whispered against Loki's ear, "no one deserves to be alone."
"I wouldn't be," Loki admitted, because he had ways to speak with others, now, ways to interact that Thomas had given him. He would have them whether he remained in Thomas' home or returned again to the streets, for all that it would be less than now. He would miss the thrum of a mortal heart against his skin, the line of warmth that told him more surely than blood pooling from his wrists ever could that he was real, that he existed.
Thomas swallowed, the bob of his Adam's apple sliding over Loki's shoulder. "I would," he whispered, fingers curling against Loki's chest. Loki's fingers, pressed tight against the back of Thomas' hand, slipped through parted fingers and Thomas' fingers tightened against them, holding them in place as though afraid Loki would pull away. "I hadn't even realised how alone I was until you were always there." His heart thrummed, loud and afraid against Loki's back, stringing through their entwined fingers and whispering apologies just under Loki's own heart, where the mortal's wrist pressed tight against his shirt. "You can– We can look for a bigger flat, get you your own room. And I can stop–" Thomas choked on his words as Loki lifted his hand up and away from his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sor–"
"Silence," Loki ordered, bringing Thomas' palm up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against the mortal's wrist.
Thomas' fingers twitched between Loki's, then the mortal breathed relief against Loki's ear and turned to press his lips against the side of the god's throat. "Sorry," he whispered.
"Silence," Loki ordered again, returning their entwined fingers to their place over his heart. "Go to sleep, you idiotic human," he added and Thomas breathed a laugh against his neck.
Loki woke to Thomas' alarm, an obnoxious sound that he'd long grown used to dragging him from sleep. Thomas shifted behind him, pressing the button to turn the noise off, then returned to Loki's back, arm curling around his side and against his abdomen. Loki caught the mortal's hand in his and pulled it up to press over his heart, soothed by the thrum of Thomas' pulse through his shirt.
Thomas stilled for a moment before relaxing against Loki's back, chin coming to relax against Loki's shoulder. "Good morning," he breathed, warm against Loki's jaw line.
"Good morning," Loki murmured in return and they remained curled together for a good ten minutes more.
Thomas finally jerked away. "Awake," he insisted, rolling out of the bed in the other direction.
Loki sighed at the lack of warmth, but pushed up from the mattress himself. He watched as Thomas collected clothing, thinking over the changes the evening had brought. Assuming anything had truly changed. Yes, their attachment to each other was in the open now, their need to remain in contact clear between them, but that had no bearing on their actions.
'Or, it shouldn't,' Loki thought, watching as Thomas stripped off his shirt in the same familiar motion that he'd seen hundreds of times. It felt different, though, more intimate. Loki wanted to touch the mortal's skin, map out the scars that would never show on his own skin. He wanted to feel Thomas' pulse against his fingertips, no clothing in the way. He wanted, and it was terrifying and thrilling and so new, this wish to touch, to press skin-to-skin under the covers and forget hours and days cocooned in warmth and the thrumming that promised companionship as much as it did life.
A marriage of convenience and centuries of using attraction as both weapon and tool had not prepared Loki for true interest in another being.
"Loki?" Thomas called, glancing back at the god with concern in his eyes.
"I am...uncertain how to continue," Loki admitted. Because Thomas hadn't seen him at his worst, but he'd seen him pretty low, and had never thought to make fun of the god for his lack of understanding or certainty about something; if there was one person that Loki trusted to never let him down – so long as Thomas could avoid it – it was this stupid, stubborn mortal. It was, perhaps, the reason that someone with but a century to live could catch the eye of one who counted his life in centuries.
Thomas frowned, uncertain, before his thoughts sifted through Loki's words and discovered his meaning. "Oh. About...us..." He winced and brushed a hand through his hair. "I don't really know. I mean, how much has changed?"
"Nothing," Loki said.
'Everything,' lay silent between them.
Thomas set the trousers he'd been about to change into on the corner of the bed, then climbed over to Loki. "Come here," he directed and Loki let himself be pulled into the mortal's arms, the thrum of Thomas' heart loud and soothing in his ear where it pressed against his chest. "If I've learned anything," Thomas murmured, his voice reverberating in his chest, twining with his heartbeat in a way that seemed entirely too pleasing to Loki, "it's that relationships weren't meant to be easy, no matter the base we start them from. And this is, by no means, a normal sort of relationship–"
"Yes," Loki drawled, because he could. "I am a god."
"Generally considered to be a myth," Thomas agreed, resigned to Loki's complex in a way that one could be only after months of listening to someone call themselves a god and mean it. "And you're not really easily accessible to the general populace."
Loki scowled and pressed closer against the mortal, as though to hide from that particular truth of his current nature.
Thomas tightened his arms around the god, comforting and apologetic. "And there's the narcissistic aspect."
Loki snorted and pulled back to meet the mortal's eyes. "This is not a problem for me," he informed the other.
"Why not? God?" Thomas suggested, just a little mocking.
Loki sniffed. "I have slept with myself before; this is but a poor substitute."
"You–" Thomas blinked. "You slept with a clone," he stated, expression caught somewhere between horrified and amused.
"I was curious," Loki replied, unashamed. It had been an interesting experiment, though not one he would likely repeat, after how exhausted it left him.
Thomas sucked at his lip, in the way he did sometimes when he was trying not to laugh. "Of course you did," he managed in a fairly even tone.
Loki's mouth turned with mischief and he said, "I also kissed myself in the throne room. Just for the reactions."
Thomas let out a laugh and covered his face with his hands.
"Fandral's will always be my favourite," Loki mused. "He looked rather torn between horrified that I might do such a thing in public, and wishing he'd thought to do it first."
"You're absolutely dreadful," Thomas informed him, smiling behind his fingers, eyes bright with a fondness that warmed Loki in a way that little did.
"I am," Loki agreed, reaching forward and tugging Thomas' hand away from the curve of his lips. "Would you see how dreadful?"
"I already know," Thomas assured him, leaning forward.
Loki met him partway and their lips met with a tingle like magic, but not. And Loki pressed tight against the mortal, looking again for the familiar sensation that he'd spent so long without. He found it in the stroke of Thomas' tongue against his, in the touch of fingers over skin, in the drag of teeth against his throat.
"I'm going to miss my run," Thomas breathed into Loki's ear, warm and so very real.
"Stay," Loki replied, brushing his fingers over Thomas' spine, and if his words were more plea than demand, he wasn't much inclined to care at the moment.
"Yes," Thomas promised and let Loki pull him down to the pillows.
They finally made their way to the main part of the trailer some time later, Thomas hurrying for food before his call and Loki languid and pleased. "Eat something," Thomas ordered as he readied his travel mug, the teapot already heating on the stove and the toaster humming with bread.
Loki sighed from the couch, laptop balanced on his stomach and chiming as it woke up. "I will," he promised. And he would, because the mortal was entirely too difficult when he discovered that Loki had skipped a meal.
Thomas finished making his tea and butter and jam sandwich, then stopped next to the couch. "Go. Before you forget," he insisted, pressing a kiss to Loki's forehead.
Loki caught the mortal's chin and leaned up for a proper kiss, lips tingling with that brush of not-quite-magic. "Very well," he agreed, pushing the laptop to one side.
Thomas gifted him with a bright smile, then hurried from the trailer.
The morning was quiet, Loki amusing himself by taunting Chris until the mortal left him for bed, then moving on to trolling Twitter. He was forced to leave the laptop aside when Thomas returned for lunch, frowning at Loki until the god made himself something, then stealing the laptop while Loki ate.
When Thomas returned to his filming, Loki found that the mortal had updated his Twitter: 'Song of the Day: "Friday, I'm In Love", by The Cure.'
Loki smiled and quickly wrote back, 'What's this? A GOOD song for once? Did you have to steal someone's iPod?'
A few fans quickly told Loki off for being an arse, insisting that Thomas had excellent taste in music. It wasn't until about an hour later that Thomas replied, 'Borrowed your brother's.'
'Thor doesn't have an iPod. You would do well to return my musical device. Immediately.'
'Right,' Thomas sent. Then, a moment later, 'Do you want me to wipe off the horse drool first, or...?'
Loki had a long laugh, then posted to his followers, 'Apologies, my army; this mortal I would see to without your assistance. @twhiddleson' Expectedly, a number complained, but most of his followers were capable of understanding a joke and favourited his comment, or made suggestions for 'torture' methods he might use. Loki left them to it and crept outside to hunt down Thomas.
The mortal was, in fact, working with a couple horses, but he spared a grin for Loki when he spotted him picking an abandoned chair to occupy. Loki remained outside for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally leaving his stolen chair to misplace a prop or turn Thomas invisible to mortal eyes for a couple minutes. Thomas seemed torn between amusement and an odd sort of resigned irritation as they made their way back to the trailer, murmuring, "We get so much more done when you stay hidden."
"Less the amusement," Loki insisted and Thomas snorted behind his hand.
They entered their trailer and Thomas claimed the laptop, demanding, "Make me tea."
Loki snorted and did so, even though gods didn't make tea. But, then, gods didn't spend their days with mortals, or argue music tastes over the internet, either.
"Speak truly," Loki ordered as he settled on the couch next to the mortal, handing over the tea, "I am not warm."
Thomas flashed him a smile from behind his mug. "Some days, you're a bit warmer than it's been outside. But, no, generally you're no warmer than the outdoors. 'S why I always insist on tea."
There was little Loki could do about his own body temperature, but he could and did hunt down the fallen blanket to drape around Thomas before resting comfortably at his side, watching as the mortal shifted through his email.
"Here," Thomas said at last, passing the laptop over to Loki. He set his mug to the ground and curled against Loki's side, the blanket wrapped loosely around him. "Wake me in a couple hours?"
Loki glanced at the time. "Certainly."
Thomas pressed a kiss to Loki's jaw and rested his head against Loki's shoulder, breath easing as he dozed off. Loki waited until Thomas' breathing and heart had slowed to the rhythm they occupied while he slept, then turned and pressed a kiss against light hair.
With seventy more years to go – and the terrible certainty that at least some of those years would again find him alone, given how long mortals lived – it seemed odd that Loki would be content with his sentence. But with warmth curling against his side, the thrum of a heart that loved him beating next to his skin, and the tingle of not-quite-magic breathed against his throat, Loki found he was.
-0-0-0-
A/N: I...don't like this ending. Really. Ugh. But this was the best place to end this monster fic, and anything additional I added just rang...fake. So, here. Right.
This fic is the first of a series, if you didn't catch that at the top. I have another plotline that I could have, maybe, got in here, but a fair bit of time is going to pass first, and I realised it was better to just write a sequel than have a huge time-skip, or make up more little scenes between bits of plot. Especially since I have a quick little one-shot from Chris Hemsworth's PoV that takes place between the end of this fic and the start of the next. (Need to watch a couple interviews with him before I write it, though. OMG. Writing him for this fic was so hard, because I know his voice less than I know Tom's. And, Merlin, I fail at Tom's voice. I do, shut up, don't lie.)
So, Chris Hemsworth one-shot should pop up next, then the sequel. Neither have titles right now, though. Sorry.
I'm out.
~Bats ^.^x
Part One:
Part Two: Code Name: Group Hugs
Part Three: Give This Man His Wings
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Date: 17/9/12 19:46 (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/9/12 19:49 (UTC)