Chapter Text
Someone told me long ago
There’s a calm before the storm
I know, it’s been coming for some time
When it’s over, so they say
It’ll rain a sunny day
I know, shinin’ down like water
Rod Steward, Have you ever seen the rain?
The place was too loud and too crowded for Steve’s liking. He had never been the one for big parties and that hadn’t changed with him attending them semi-regularly. He had expected being Captain America would come with sacrifices, of course, but not ones of this kind. However, this was a small price to pay for being able to aid his country.
Sometimes he still couldn’t believe all this was real, him being an epitome of rags to riches story. He was so incredibly happy that he gave an army a shot, even after so many people being at best skeptical about his choice. The rest openly claimed that whoever allowed for Steve to join the army had completely lost his mind.
A lot had changed since that time. The skinny, sickly boy barely making ends meet was now just a memory, but that didn’t mean Steve had turned into some kind of socialite. Maybe he wasn’t as socially awkward as he used to be, but still, he would have rather been somewhere else. Bucky would probably have teased him endlessly, seeing him attend all those fancy places—the good-natured, friendly bickering so omnipresent in their relationship. He didn’t think he would ever fully come to terms with Bucky’s death. No amount of mourning could have healed such an open wound. Bucky, his best and for a very long time only friend, so full of life and cheerful, so selflessly devoted and protective. Steve knew he could never have asked for a better friend and companion.
Steve forced himself to focus on the present. Even a mere thought about his lost friend hurt. He didn’t have the luxury to walk down memory lane, definitely not here. Surrounded by mostly unfamiliar or barely familiar faces, he suddenly felt the loneliest he had in months. He quickly took a sip of whiskey, but he knew he had to drink much more to even start feeling drunk. He had never been prone to getting intoxicated easily, most probably due to his Irish genes.
He glanced discreetly at his watch. Just an hour, maybe two, and he could come back home. With Peggy at his side, those soirees had been at least bearable, but since they parted ways there wasn’t much to enjoy there anymore. He would probably always love her, but as a friend, a companion even. Whatever romantic connection had existed between the two of them was gone, and maybe it was for the best. Peggy deserved someone who loved her more than he could.
Steve smiled politely at the woman sitting across the table.
“Are you enjoying the party, ma’am?”
She giggled at the semi-old-fashioned expression.
“Immensely. And you, Captain?”
Steve didn’t get the chance to answer. He barely caught a glimpse of jet-black hair and terrified eyes before noticing an unpleasant wetness and the reddish color of the stain on his uniform. At first, he thought he would just have it cleaned and forget about the whole thing, but apparently the incident was nowhere near over.
The slave dropped to his knees immediately, his terror obvious to everyone watching. Steve searched for the right words and actions, but couldn’t find any. Suddenly, someone approached him in long strides.
He recognized the man immediately, despite not seeing him in years. Gilmore Hodge, his former teammate and occasional bully, since Steve’s earliest day in the army. Someone who Captain expected to never see again, to whom he hadn’t dedicated a single thought after moving on.
‘’Steve,’’ Hodge bellowed, putting on the fake smile. ‘’It’s quite a surprise. How long have it been?’’ He asked, but didn’t even wait for an answer. ‘’I’m so terribly sorry for my slave’s fuck-up. This useless thing messes up everything he touches,’’ he explained with contempt.
‘’Hello, Gilmore,’’ Captain just said in reply, hoping his face was blank enough. His mum raised him to stay civil in every situation. An outdated approach, many would say, but he still tried to stick to it nevertheless.
‘’Things like that should never happen, especially to the heroes like you, old friend.’’ Hodge grinned unpleasantly, before striking the slave across the face.
‘’This man is Captain America himself,’’ he informed the kneeling man with great satisfaction. ‘’He will teach you discipline. Maybe you’re a lucky boy, after all.’’
The slave didn’t make a sound.
Steve caught himself frowning. He knew he was being viewed as principled, strict even, but he didn’t appreciate serving as the deterrent, especially for something that was the most probably an accident.
‘’Take it for the night,’’ Hodge turns back to the blond man. ‘’Hell, take it for the whole week as the compensation. Just don’t do anything irreversible. Except of that, it’s all yours.’’
Steve had always known he disliked Hodge for a reason. The man presumably saw that whole situation as a chance to get into the Captain’s good graces. He couldn’t have been more mistaken, but Steve couldn’t really tell him that. It was painfully obvious the man hadn’t changed at all. He was still the same kind of bully and opportunist he used to be.
“Thank you, Gilmore, but that won’t be necessary,” Steve replied with a forced smile.
“I insist,” Hodge countered with fake courtesy.
“It is the most fitting solution in that pitiful situation,” someone in the back mentioned casually.
Steve had an unpleasant, but very true feeling, that there were too many eyes focused on him. He glanced at the slave, who was still kneeling at the floor, motionless. He couldn’t see his face, but couldn’t even imagine what he was going through at that moment. He must have been feeling thousand times worse than Captain.
‘’If that’s so,’’ he relied cautiously. ‘’I’m afraid it’s time for me to say goodbye to you, I’ve got things to take care of.’’
Hodge nodded approvingly with a cruel glint in his eyes. Steve was actually surprised he hadn’t chosen to dish out the punishment himself. He probably would have, maybe even in front of everyone, if it hadn’t been Captain America involved.
That was definitely not how this evening was supposed to end. What had he gotten himself into?
***
The slave had been silent during the ride home and that hadn’t changed once they reached Steve’s place. He had been following all the Steve’s orders, every single one of them, without any hesitation or delay. That extreme calmness was somewhat unnerving for Steve, who had good grounds to assume he got an abuse victim under his care, but none of the usual symptoms stood.
Captain had half-expected for the slave to beg him vehemently for the mercy or something akin to that and nothing like that happened, even if judging from Hodge’s words the slave would have every reason act like that. Not that Steve could actually hurt him in any way, of course, at least not on purpose, but the poor thing couldn’t know that. One way or another, it was quite ironical. Captain, who should be the one in control, felt uncertain at best. He really could use Peggy or Natasha around.
The slave followed him as he entered the apartment, keeping his distance. From what Steve knew, that was the behavior expected from the well-trained slaves. He stopped in the middle of living room, unsure what to do next, angry at himself from not being able to pull himself together. The slave, noticing the stop, dropped instantly to his knees.
All right, one thing a time.
‘’Can you rise?’’ Captain asked, mindful to keep his tone neutral.
The slave rose gracefully to the standing position, but his eyes were still downcast.
‘’What’s your name?’’
‘’Loki, Master,’’ came the reply, the first words that he actually heard from the man. That was a slightly unusual name, but Steve had actually heard the odder ones. He briefly wondered whether this was the slave’s given name or had he been renamed on owner’s whim, but pushed it aside.
‘’I’m Steve Rogers,’’ he introduced himself. ‘’Look, it’s really late, I guess we’re both tired, so let’s go to sleep and we’ll figure things out in the morning,’’ he suggested.
‘’Yes, Master,’’ came a swift reply.
‘’I’ll go to my bedroom, you take the couch,’’ Captain carried on. ‘’Blanket is already lying somewhere there. Bathroom’s in the corridor, if you need it.’’
‘’Yes, Master.’’
‘’Great,’’ Steve said, even if that sounded fake even to his ears. He was pretty sure the gravity of the situation wouldn’t hit him fully until next morning. For now, it was just too surreal.
He had brought Loki home without even a toothbrush or a single pair of spare clothing, but that wasn’t actually the biggest concern. The whole incident with spilling the drink might have been deliberate, or maybe it had just happened and Hodge had jumped at the chance. Sadly, he couldn’t rule out any of those options.
Steve had always preferred to have his privacy, and now he had someone at home who could easily tell what his flat looked like, what he ate for breakfast, what TV shows he watched, and who visited him. That was the better option, anyway. He might have disliked the man, but he didn’t suspect Hodge of being a spy or a traitor. Letting an enemy into his home was something he could barely imagine. Had he just made the biggest mistake of his life? He couldn’t even blame the slave for following orders, as if the poor guy had had anything to say about it.
Or maybe Loki was one of those utterly devoted slaves that worshipped the ground their owners stepped on. Steve couldn’t fathom which amount of brainwashing would make them act like that, but it wasn’t so unheard of. Maybe Loki would love to give his owner a detailed report of what he saw and heard.
Nah, this terror at the party couldn’t be fake. No matter how composed the man seemed now, back then his reaction was geniue. In the end of the day, Hodge might be more than Steve initially gave him credit for, but he wouldn’t be that sneaky. It was nothing more than a freaky coincidence that make him run into the old rival only for him to put Captain in the uncomfortable position once again.
Since he became famous, quite a lot of people were trying to get into his good graces. Life was so much simpler than he was just a boy from Brooklyn. He didn’t obviously miss being poor or constantly sick, but at least back then he never had to deal with false friends.
One way or another, he had to tread carefully. His lack of experience in dealing with slaves in general didn’t help either.
He knew he was expected to have one. It was pretty much unheard of for someone as recognizable as him not to own at least one. They were commonly considered a status symbol of wealth and were keenly acquired by the middle class. Born and raised poor, Steve had not only never owned one, but had also rarely interacted with anyone who did.
He didn’t care what anyone thought of his choice. His mother raised him in the way that excluded owning another human being. This was simply wrong. Too much of the power imbalance, too much of the possibility of corruption.
One way or another, he wouldn’t beat the poor guy half-to-death only to satisfy Hodge, but he had to deal with this sudden situation whether he liked it or not.
***
Confused, Loki stared into the bathroom closed door for a couple of seconds. Automatically, he looked round searching for a blanket. As he found it, he laid down on the couch, as instructed, hesitant and anxious. He knew he was knee-deep in trouble and there was no escape.
There he was, in the hands of America’s finest, the man who was a living, walking epitome of sticking to the rules and being dead set on everyone else sticking to them as well. Loki was pretty sure nothing would slide under the watchful eye of his temporary master.
He was so screwed. It was a literal nightmare. Loki took a shaky breath, feeling his composed posture falling apart inevitably.
One week, he told himself. One week. You can survive that. You will survive that. Master wants you alive and intact, remember?
Hodge meant relative stability and no matter how much Loki loathed that feeling, in that very moment, tossed into the unfamiliar environment, he missed being able to know what to expect, especially knowing that he would never be able to live up to Captain’s standards.
The less attention you get from your Master, the better for you. That was the universal truth every slave learnt very quickly. The only exception was when one miraculously ended up as some sort of cherished pet, but even if Loki heard such stories, he was inclined to put them along the myths and fairytales. For sure he had never met someone like that or even heard about the believable case.
Captain America, symbol of strength and masculinity. There was at least one good thing about it. Someone like that must surely be interested exclusively in women. On the other hand, with Loki here, on hand, not allowed to refuse or protest...It may go either way. If not this night, there still would be plenty of time.
That was going to be a long week.
Despite the tiredness and growing headache, he stared into the darkness until he finally fell asleep into early morning hours.