Loki (fiorvalr) wrote in noexits, @ 2022-07-14 11:08:00 |
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[23 MINUTES LATER]
Loki reached over Stephen to grab the fallen bag of Skittles which had slid under the edge of one of the many looted Walgreens shelves. Then he slumped back on his back. The linoleum was cool against his sweat-slicked skin. He peered into the bag and cherry-picked a handful of the yellow and green pieces. Then he dropped the bag on Stephen’s chest. He tossed a yellow Skittle in his mouth and chewed. He didn’t like the consistency—it was a tad stale—but the taste was adequate. Outside the zombies still clawed and slobbered at the metal door, but Loki didn’t seem at all concerned. Then he ate a green one. Yellow was better.
A thick strand of black hair stuck to the side of his face. He swept it back with his palm. Normally he would use magic to clean himself up. To always look his best as opposed to this disheveled post-coital state of unkemptness. But he supposed it was wiser to use his magic sparingly. Especially since it was so erratic in this world. Besides, Stephen hadn’t complained about how he looked. Not yet, anyway.
“You still owe me a real dinner.”
“I had an amazing dinner planned, but then you went ahead and ruined it all by sleeping the whole week.” Stephen was also laying on his back on the dirty floor, hands tucked beneath his head to provide at least a little comfort. He was blankly gazing up at the ceiling tiles until Loki decided to be rude and reach over his chest for the candy. Afterwards, he kept staring with a you’ve got to be kidding look.
Not his ideal situation for their first time, but then again when had they ever been anything less than unconventional together?
“Ciro’s nightclub on Sunset Boulevard..” He turned back to stare at the ceiling, remembering. “Black tie and tails. Live orchestra. Bing Crosby was performing.” That last part wasn’t true, but Stephen felt like being a brat himself and was rubbing it in. “Like the saying goes, you snooze, you lose. You’re lucky I gave you this for dinner,” he finally picked up the bag of Skittles and placed it on the floor between them.
With any fancy trappings removed, they’d been literally stripped to their primal core. It was pure lust, and as much as Stephen wanted to pay Loki a complement, he knew it would immediately go to Loki’s head and he’d never hear the end of it. In a way, Stephen did compliment, but instead of words it was with grunts and moans. He might have even blurted out something, he couldn’t remember.
Was this experience enough to ruin him like Loki warned? Eh… he couldn’t say. Maybe he could tell if they did it again?
For now he had to catch his breath.
“I’m more of a Dean Martin guy, to be honest.” But there was a bit of a pout on Loki’s features. He hadn’t realized he’d missed Los Angeles in the height of its era. Granted, he hadn’t exactly asked anyone what he’d missed that week. He’d been a little more concerned about the week after, which he was apparently awake for but didn’t actually have any memories of. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had some memories, but they didn’t make any sense. It was like he was seeing the week through somebody else’s eyes. Like it was a half-faded dream.
But he would have loved tuxedo tails and black ties. That definitely would have made for a more exciting climax to this long-awaited rendezvous. Then again, maybe this was equally perfect in a way.
Because there was something about dirty linoleum flooring and zombies clawing at the door that just screamed God of Mischief and the Sorcerer Supreme. So-called Sorcerer Supreme, that is.
“But that’s rudely inconsiderate of you to say now. Maybe I would have held out a bit longer.” Loki feigned a disappointed sigh. Then he finished off the yellow Skittles and tossed the green ones back into the bag. Turned out he didn’t like those ones, after all.
He looked up at the ceiling as well. The cheap corrugated tiles had seen better days. The corners were covered in cobwebs and the fluorescent lighting had long since gone the way of the Dark Ages.
The silence wasn’t good for Loki. His thoughts began to wander and he started to feel a pinching in his throat. A nerve near his left eye was throbbing, threatening to unleash a tear. He held it back by not blinking. But when he thought it might overwhelm him he gave Stephen a playful slap to the chest and sat up.
“Well! That was fun. Maybe I’ll even let you do it again sometime. Don’t get your hopes up though. I’m not sure if you were good enough to qualify for a round two.” Loki paused. “Well, round three, technically. Unless you get that tentacle update, of course! Then I expect you to be at my door STAT. There’s nothing I love more than sushi with a side of sex.”
He grinned, but this time the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He gave Stephen’s bicep a gentle squeeze and then he reached over him for his leather slacks.
The silence between them wasn’t really silent, since the zombies howling and banging at the door hadn’t let up even a little, but at this point it was pretty much background noise. Stephen threw a cautionary glance in that direction to check… yep… door was still holding. They were relatively safe. He hated to think of what was going on out there, how many more zombies had been attracted to the area by the commotion of their own type of howling and banging. Hopefully they all congregated behind the store, giving them a chance to escape out front.
When he looked back, it was obvious Loki was forcing himself not to display emotion… the strain in his face, his eyes misting over, a small wobble in his lower lip. Their bout of sex was a temporary distraction, and now that it was over it was back to reality. Words of comfort fell flat in Stephen’s own mind so he didn’t bother to speak them, and given their relationship, cuddles and kisses would be more awkward than helpful. Hell, even holding hands felt weird.
Which was why he was relieved when Loki spoke first with false cheerfulness, fooling nobody. Stephen took the gesture of Loki’s bicep squeeze to mean thank you, but he wasn’t going to make things worse by acknowledging it… or any of Loki’s emotions. They were similar in that way, concealing, despising pity… which was why Stephen would respect the facade for now. No doubt people had already started to message Loki to ask how he was doing. It would be better for Natasha to deal with this side of things.
“Ugh. Putting on clothes without magic is so tedious.” It went without saying it was also gross… there wouldn’t even be running water waiting for them back at campus to wash away the sweat, lubrication, and cum. As he rose, he could feel his back peel away from the floor, having lay on something sticky that he didn’t want to think about, but made him sneer in disgust. “You need a baby wipe?” he asked, finding the packet close to where his trousers were.
Focus on what needed to be done. “I’d like to do a quick run of the store before we leave, to see if there’s anything we can bring… oh…” The Cloak of Levitation had been busy while Stephen and Loki were busy, and in addition to keeping guard, it had collected a small pile of stuff it thought would be useful in their situation, including cheap canvas Walgreen’s bags to carry it all. There wasn’t a lot, but it was something. Stephen showed his appreciation for Cloak’s help with a nod.
He took out a few of the wipes to quickly clean the dirtiest parts of his body before sliding into his trousers and getting into his shirt. “We’re leaving together.” Stephen’s voice was firm, this wasn’t a subject he would argue over. His main responsibility now was to make sure Loki got back to campus without causing any harm to himself.
Stephen Strange knew him better than Loki realized. Or maybe Loki did realize it. Maybe that’s why he allowed this game of theirs to last as long as it had. Because he saw something of himself in Stephen. The narcissism. The ego. The fear of dropping the facade. The bluster. Oh, the bluster. Like two gale force winds bashing into each other at hurricane speeds. Stephen Strange and Loki Laufeyson were like brothers from different realms. The only difference was that one of them had better luck with remaining on the side of good. But in most other matters—friendship, family, love—they were very similar. If not down right the same. Hel, in another universe they might have been Variants.
But Stephen was right. Loki didn’t want to share his feelings. He didn’t want to talk about the obvious. He didn’t want to be seen. And Stephen was absolutely correct about that brief, but meaningful squeeze on his arm. It was Loki’s gratitude. Given in the only way Loki knew how to thank a person. With smug conceit and playful coquettishness. And in that moment Loki knew he owed Stephen for his silence. Because that’s exactly what Loki wanted from him. Not to embrace him or empathize with him. Not to hold him and promise him that everything would be okay.
He wanted Stephen to ignore him. To treat him like what they’d just done wasn’t good enough for either of them. Loki wanted to be belittled and mocked. Those were emotions he could deal with. Those were responses that wouldn’t make him feel small. That wouldn’t remind him that his world had cracked in half less than thirty minutes ago.
And for that Loki would be eternally grateful.
Maybe this was even the moment that this became a real friendship for Loki. Maybe this was how he added Doctor Strange to the very short list of people he trusted.
Loki gave Stephen a smug smirk when he offered him one of the baby wipes. Then he waved his own hand in front of his face and—voila!—clean. Fresh as a daisy. As if he’d never had a hitch in his magic at all. Then he winked and slipped into his slacks like it was no trouble at all. And did he offer to clean his companion?
Oh, hel no. That’s not how this relationship worked.
“Walking me home now too? Why, Stephen. I do declare.” Loki mocked the accent of a sweet southern belle. Then he flipped his hair over his shoulder before picking up his top. Once he was dressed he waggled his brows at Cloak and blew it a kiss. “Well, hurry up, darling. We don’t have all day. And those beasties sound mighty hungry.”