Chapter Text
Loki would not have described himself as a romantic.
Not before Don.
At heart, he absolutely adored the idea of being wanted and showing someone they were wanted in return.
He hadn’t had reason, anything real to realise this about himself.
Loki discovered his inclination towards romance as he found himself sourcing tealights from Don’s kitchen drawer, arranging them on the outside furniture and turning the neat lawn - freshly ‘mown’ thanks to experimentation with his seidr - into a cozy and romantic space.
Summer baked the garden with golden warmth and light and Loki predicted that they would be blessed with another spectacular Ohio sunset.
It could not compare to Asgard but to Loki, it was still a wonderment.
He’d draped the crochet blanket from the couch over the chair he had elected to be ‘Don’s’ for the evening, and found himself unsatisfied with his surroundings.
Loki flicked his wrist and the shrubs were no longer missing leaves and the sad little rose bush that was struggling to bloom, perked into life; yellow and red roses unfurled as if yawning, awaking from a long sleep.
Illusionary or not, the decently sized garden now looked a whole lot more appealing.
Loki smiled to himself.
He didn’t want to go overboard, but he was proud of himself for the effort.
Loki had been younger when he had decorated for courtships before and now, he was stumped as to what could be considered “too much” or “not enough”.
A silver tongue got one far in matters of seduction but romance was much harder to curate.
It was going to be perfect, he would make sure of it.
Don deserved it.
That and Loki could not help but revisit the moment that Don’s lips had brushed his cheek. His skin burned with warmth at that spot, summoned by the mere memory of the touch.
Loki ached to feel that again.
He raised a finger to brush that spot and then busied himself with rearranging the candles.
However Midgardians courted each other, he would work it out.
The best he could do at present, in hiding, was this, and he hoped Don would be swept away.
A prince had to make an impression, on the run or not.
…
Don couldn’t focus at work.
Not only was he replaying kissing Loki’s cheek and the seductive wisp of a whisper the sorcerer had let drift against his ear, his coworkers were grinning at him like they knew something he didn’t.
Something was afoot and it made him both elated and very nervous.
Amara had been on maternity leave, returning back and getting an instant update from Randall on not only the affairs of the business, but Don’s ‘secretive new ‘roommate’.
Amara was a jovial and friendly woman with rich oak brown hair and skin and her hooded, tastefully make-up brushed eyes sparkled with mischief as she spotted Don and his checklist surveying the latest model of Jetski they had parked for display in the store.
“I’m guessing its a slow day,” Don mumbled as Amara crept up on him.
“Damn, I was gonna make you jump and everything,” she sniggered, “It’s good to see you.”
Don tucked his clipboard under his arm and smiled back in earnest, “Likewise. How’s your little one?”
“Terrorising his papa as we speak,” Amara smirked, “He’s adorable. I’d love for you to meet him when you have the time.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world,” Don shrugged, “Didn’t wanna impose whilst you were resting and battling the bottle steriliser though.”
Amara still had that look on her face; her questions were poised behind pleasantries, ready to grill him.
“Randall’s spreading gossip isn’t he?” Don sighed.
“Yes and no,” Amara smiled knowingly, “We had an interesting call today and I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
Don set his clipboard down on the raised platform of the display, hands propped on his hips.
“An interesting call? And what do you mean ‘yes and no’-“
“Let’s just say you’re one lucky guy,” Amara’s teeth sparkled at him, “And my lips are sealed!”
“Amara…” Don groaned.
“I’m not saying a word! You’ve been nothing but a blessing here Don, enjoy the anticipation,” she winked.
Before he could corral her into spilling any details, she had scuttled off to greet a timid-looking customer with her thousand watt smile.
Don whistled to himself, plucking up his clipboard.
He tried to untangle the mess that was his taut shoulder muscles but it was too late; he was bound tight with stress.
With Amara’s excitement, it had to be a positive thing but also linked to Loki.
She’d admitted vaguely it was related to Randall’s ‘gossip’ so Loki had called in…and had asked them not to tell Don why.
Of all the disasters Don could imagine, none would be rational. It had to be something good.
No one would be smiling at him like this if Loki had been in trouble or had set the kitchen on fire.
He had to relax, do his job, and make it to the end of the workday.
If he could make it that far without losing his mind to a spiral of thoughts threatening to suck him down with them.
…
“Oh, hello there dear!”
Loki looked up, seeing an elderly woman beaming at him from over Don’s garden fence.
“Good afternoon,” Loki greeted politely, inclining his head.
She was stout and appeared to be standing on something, teetering comically as she nosed over the garden wall.
Her white hair sat in wispy, well-kept curls and she wore round glasses on her upturned rosy nose.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” she mused, “I thought lovely Don lived alone.”
“I am…a recent addition,” Loki laughed, “I’m Don’s roommate.”
“Bit of a homebody I assume,” the lady smiled, “I’m always pottering around and haven’t heard a peep from you.”
“I make it my business not to irritate his neighbours. He has been very kind to me,” Loki said, voice softening.
It perplexed him how easy it was to converse with mortals. They held such a curiosity about them that you could lure them into small talk just by being in their vicinity.
It was a breath of fresh air to not be plotting how to use this to his advantage.
Loki glanced down at the crockery he had arranged on the garden table and then was viciously aware of a prickle of heat snaking its way up his throat.
The lady was smiling at him brightly, assessing his set up.
“I…um,” Loki blathered, silver tongue flailing uselessly.
“Aw, don’t worry hunny. I’m sure he’ll love it. How lovely as well. He’s been so lonely for so long, a handsome fella like you doing all this will be sure to send him dizzy,” she said kindly.
Loki smiled gratefully.
He remembered then that he was supposed to be laying low. Purely by coincidence, this friendly elderly woman had no idea who he was.
Thank the Gods for that, he hadn’t even cast a glamour to shift mortal perception!
He dared to introduce himself.
“I am Loki,” he said, scarcely remembering not to say ‘of Asgard’.
“That’s a strange name,” her smile didn’t falter, “But apt. Like the Norse God.”
“Quite,” Loki smirked.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Loki,” she replied, “I’m Marg and my husband inside you’ll probably meet sooner or later. Currently snoozing away.”
She playfully rolled her eyes and Loki gave her a winning, charming grin.
Through the stress of worrying over his potential courtship with Don, Loki was bolstered by the casual interaction, feeling as though he was truly fitting in with mortal life.
How novel…and yet, thrilling.
“Good luck, dear,” Marg smiled, “Whatever you’re cooking smells gorgeous.”
“Thank you Marg,” Loki replied warmly, “Truly.”
With a cheerful wave, the tiny woman hopped off whatever she was standing on and pottered away.
Loki was left with a feeling like a hearth warming the insides of him as he got back to work.
…
When Don arrived home, there was a fizzle of anticipation in the air.
Loki was dressed to the nines, clothing that Don hadn’t bought and had been summoned by magic.
The black suit was stunning, cutting all the right shapes as it hugged Loki’s lithe frame flatteringly.
His hands were laced together over his stomach in a pose of subtly restrained anxiety that Don found unutterably endearing.
“Hi,” Don smiled, “Going somewhere nice?”
“Your garden definitely counts,” Loki chuckled quietly, “…I get the feeling I may be overdressed.”
“Depends on the occasion,” Don said, slipping his bag off and popping it on the dining table.
Loki drifted over and picked it up, tucking it onto its hook.
Don watched him with his pulse thundering, Loki’s behaviour stoking his suspicions.
“Thanks,” he smiled, “For the record, maybe it's me that’s underdressed…”
Loki’s flashed a grin that made Don’s heart stumble dangerously.
“We will see,” Loki said secretively.
In a smooth and fluid movement, Loki was in front of him, taking his hand in fine, soft fingers.
Don willed himself to somehow be able to suppress the flush of his face, but there was no stopping it. He coloured like a splash of crimson on a canvas.
“First of all, did you have a good day?” Loki asked tenderly.
“An interesting one,” Don locked eyes with him, “My coworker Amara said they had an ‘interesting’ call earlier in the day and someone had sworn them to secrecy. Am I off base if I guess that was you?”
Loki’s eyes flashed with mischief and Don’s worries began to melt away.
He caught a lingering smell wafting from the kitchen, rich in herbal fragrance and the tang of fish.
He opened his mouth to ask further questions but Loki’s thumb was running back and forth over his knuckles as he was tugged encouragingly towards the garden.
“No more questions,” Loki said, “Allow yourself to be surprised.”
Don couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face if he tried.
…
Entering his own garden was akin to walking onto the patio of an upmarket bistro.
His lawn had been mown, the wilting rose bushes were flushed with blooms, and his garden furniture had been adorned with pillows he didn’t recognise.
They were plush and plump, decadent in their comfort and styling, and his old crochet throw had been neatly folded in what he assumed would be his seat.
Loki released his hand to twirl his fingers.
With the dramatic gesture, several tealights’ wicks burst into spirited little flames.
The garden was spontaneously filled with ambient pockets of glowing warmth, the candles brighter than the waning sunlight as the Ohio evening had begun to draw in.
He’d been suspiciously asked to work late and now he knew why.
To set up for this very moment.
“You did all this for me?” Don breathed.
“Is that so surprising?” Loki smiled.
Don shook his head.
“Not because it's from you,” Don said, circling the table, mentally counting the flickering tealights whose flames danced in the summer breeze.
“I take it that you like it?” Loki said, dripping with hope.
“Yeah, I love it, I…Loki, is this a date?” Don asked bashfully.
Loki circled the table and pulled out the chair with the crochet throw.
“Where I come from, we call it a courtship,” he said smoothly.
Don’s smile erupted into a beaming grin that took over his entire face. His heart beat so hard that his head swam and he manoeuvred clumsily over to his seat, Loki tucking his chair, with him in it, up to the table with a graceful slide.
Don pulled the crochet throw out from behind his back and Loki was already taking it from him, laying it over his lap.
A caress of Loki’s hand over his upper arm both settled him and set him on fire, simultaneously.
“You know I haven’t been on a date since before I was married,” Don chuckled, “I might be a bit rusty with the small talk.”
Loki laughed, “Don, we live together already. If I was sick of your small talk I’d have absconded weeks ago to a den in the woods.”
Don grinned.
Loki made for the back door, holding up a finger.
“Wait here, I will be with you in a moment.”
Don watched him leave, unashamedly looking at the strong and broad set of Loki’s shoulders in that tight suit.
Heart aflutter, he waited patiently as there was light noise from inside the house, cutlery and glasses clinking.
Loki reappeared briefly to set out the wine glasses, forks, butter knives and the good white wine.
He poured them both a healthy half glass and then disappeared again.
When he returned, he was carrying two fragrant dishes and Don finally twigged that smell that was so familiar.
“How did you-“
“Your colleagues are very helpful,” Loki winked, “And your local fishmonger is very easily persuaded.”
Don stared in awe at the dish laid out before him, a similar portion for Loki.
It was smoked Haddock with saffron and parma ham.
Don had not had the privilege of indulging in his mother’s favoured recipe since the early days with Carla.
His dear old mum had learned it by pestering a chef at the waterside restaurant they had visited on a family dinner and it had been a staple at thanksgiving ever since.
In the heat of a summer evening, a God of Mischief sat across from him, Don stared at the artfully cut fish in wonder.
“Randall told you, didn’t he?” Don whispered.
Loki’s expression was tender and depthless.
Don thought that everything Loki felt must be as deep as an ocean, no bottom to his emotions. Whatever he did was full of fire, or fury, or passion.
“Thank you,” Don said heavily, “You don’t know what this means to me.”
Loki reached for his wine and sipped slowly, looking over the candlelight towards Don as the sun began its slow descent and oil paint-esque colours began to drench the sky in vibrance.
“When I know what I want, I will do anything to acquire it,” Loki said, “And what I want is to show you a taste of the life of a prince. It is the least you deserve.”
Don’s heart was going to fail at this rate; it was the best feeling he had felt in years.
The levels of excitement and pleasure surging through his blood were hard to contain and the smile he wore was decorating his face for the rest of the evening.
Within his racing mind, he began to plan his own courtship of Loki.
For the being that sat across from him had, unequivocally and irrevocably, stolen his heart.
…
Cincinnati, Ohio
The Avengers
Natasha and Bruce were reunited with Thor and Steve at the airport.
Their private jets landed parallel to each other and S.H.E.I.L.D agents ensured their safe and secretive passage into the city.
They were sworn to stealth, unwilling to give Laufeyson any foreknowledge by media or otherwise that they had touched down in Ohio.
Tony was on the line, preparing to leave New York and come to meet them with the tracer.
The closer the device was - in theory - the clearer the reading.
Natasha noticed that Thor appeared to be aging with stress and she wasn’t even certain that was applicable, in the human sense, for Asgardian men.
“How are you doing?” she asked quietly, falling into step with him as Steve walked with Bruce.
“As well as any man hunting their own brother,” Thor replied gruffly.
He didn’t look at her, staring ahead as they powered towards their jet black, bullet proof cars that were tucked to the side of the airport pick-up zones.
“We’re getting close now,” Nat exhaled, “Have you been in contact with your home?”
“Heimdall has been in touch,” Thor sighed, “They can’t see Loki. He is completely ‘off-grid’, as your people are fond of saying.”
A softness edged his words and Nat smiled slightly to herself, empathetic to the palpable waves of stress vibrating off the tall and disciplined warrior.
“If it helps by any means, I appreciate how hard this is for you,” Nat extended her sympathies cautiously, “It can’t be easy.”
“It is not,” Thor said, “But I will do what has to be done for the people of Midgard. It is my duty.”
Nat nodded and held vigil for his mournful silence as they got into their car.
Steve and Bruce exchanged a look as Steve began to drive, their convoy of agents flanking them behind and in front leading them into the city.
Nat looked out at the Cincinnati skyline as evening fell, watching as the lights began to burst into life across the city.
One way or another, they were going to complete this mission.
She would work out how to support the pieces of Thor afterwards, in whatever way she could.