Chapter Text
The first kiss is payment.
Perhaps the story begins earlier, when Stevie was trapped in the burning warehouse, or even earlier than that, when the God of Chaos had pulled the cowl off her head and seen her face for the very first time, but the first kiss comes later, and this is a story told in kisses.
The first kiss, then.
Payment.
--
She doesn’t think twice about going undercover, knows that Natasha’s face has been splashed all over the news and to be fair, 95% of the people who know Captain America’s other identity are people she trusts with her life.
If she had known Loki would be there --
Well. She might have volunteered anyway, but when she sees him across the room Stevie’s heart pounds in her chest, terror crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her. If they discover her, she knows exactly what will happen -- knows what happens to soldiers to fall behind enemy lines, knows what happens to women when they’re captured by the enemy.
She’s a soldier. She’s not afraid to die.
Stevie tries to maintain her cover, smiles and flirts with the disgusting, sweaty men that paw at her and chuckle into her cleavage, tries to avoid the dark-haired demigod on the other side of the room. But it’s Loki, so she turns around and barely avoids running into him.
He’s dressed like all the other men, in a dark tuxedo with his hair slicked back, but Loki’s smile is bitter and mean and it shows far too much teeth. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says, and Stevie’s heart drops. Loki places her hand on his elbow, guides her away from the small knot of people she’d been talking to. She can’t remember what they had been talking about, anyway, so it’s probably for the best.
Dear God. Oh. sweet Lord, have mercy. Stevie has never been this scared in her life, and there’s no telling what Loki will do.
“You shouldn’t be here, Captain,” Loki whispers in her ear. It sounds like a threat. Stevie’s pretty sure it’s meant to.
“Don’t blow my cover,” she whispers, pleading into his ear. “Loki...”
And he turns to her, crowds in too close, invading her space and Stevie finds herself backed up against a wall, Loki’s arms braced on either side of her, trapping her. “You should know better than to make a request from the God of Chaos,” he murmurs into her ear. Her hands are flat on his shoulders, not quite pushing him away, just braced to do so. Stevie can hear her heart pounding, blood rushing through her ears.
“Please,” she says, and Loki’s smile deepens.
“What will you give me?” He asks, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m sure my associates would love to know who they have in their midst -- what are you going to offer me for my silence?”
Stevie doesn’t know what to say. She can’t help the flush that spreads over her, the way her face goes pink with -- embarrassment, and humiliation, and a little bit of anger. What could she offer him? Loki wouldn’t want money, doesn’t want any information, doesn’t want messages from Thor or any of a thousand things she could think to offer him. Her back is to the wall literally and figuratively, he knows as well as she that she has nothing he wants.
“Ah,” Loki trails a fingertip from her shoulder to her elbow, leaning in a little closer as if he’s won something. “Well then. Give us a kiss, Captain.”
“What?”
“A kiss,” he repeats. “For my silence. A reasonable price, by anyone’s standards.”
She shivers. Loki’s expression is unreadable, inscrutable. What does he want? A kiss -- that doesn’t make sense, not when he could demand anything and know she’d have to give in or be caught by HYDRA. Swallowing hard, Stevie nods, once, because he’s right, a kiss is... it’s reasonable, if that’s what he wants, if that’s all that he wants. That much she can give him.
“Okay,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “Okay -- a kiss.”
Loki’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
And -- it would be easier if he took control, if he was the one to lean in and close the distance between them, but no. No, Loki never makes anything easy, so Stevie braces herself, leans forward and rises to her toes, presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. She slides one hand around to the back of his neck, pulls him in a little closer.
Loki lets her lead, doesn’t push for more, so Stevie lets her eyes flutter shut, lets out a shaky breath against his lips and then kisses him, properly, his mouth opening over hers as she slides her tongue across the seam of his lips, tasting. He tastes a little like fresh-fallen snow, like crushed mint leaves and sugar, like the burn of vodka; Stevie licks into his mouth, drags him closer until his body is pressed up against hers, radiating heat like a furnace for all that his demeanor is cool as ice.
Loki’s not shy, he kisses her back, unbearably gentle. He nips at her lips, teeth sharp but his lips gently soothing, and jesus, Stevie has been kissed before but it was never like this.
She breaks away, struggling for breath, and Loki smirks at her.
“You won’t tell them?” It wouldn’t surprise her if he’s lying, though. Loki lies, that’s what he does. Stevie asks him anyway, because even a slim chance of hope is better than no hope at all.
“Don’t insult my honour, Captain,” Loki replies. “I said my silence for a kiss, so you’ll have it. For one day only. I hope your business here is concluded by then.” He turns abruptly, leaving her alone. Stevie lets her hands drop, wrapping them around herself.
Suddenly, she feels cold.
--