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When he was called in to check out the lab work of some scientist, he had certainly not been expecting this. Staring at the pictures, his brow furrowed as he ran pale fingers over the image. His eyes were narrowed, zoning in on the important aspects of each picture before asking to see the readings of the energy flow during the time of the occurrence.

It was handed over and he fingered the device, watching the spikes in energy and he didn’t need much more to tell him what it was.

“Have a nice day,” he muttered as he exited the room and made his way to the elevator. Every muscle in his body was tense, a line of rigidness as he punched the floor number in before standing back, arms crossed over his chest tightly.

There was a ticking in his head like a time bomb and it put him on edge, setting nerve endings alight with phantom chills of threats that weren’t there.

The doors opened.

Drawing in a quick breath, dropping his arms to his side, he marched out of the elevator and headed to the office door just at the back of the hall, pulling his ID out and letting it be scanned. There was a momentary lapse as he waited, but then the lock clicked and he slid open the door, shutting it behind him.

“What was it?”

“You were right. The energy signature is too far off the charts to have been anything from Midgard—not to cause a spike like that so suddenly. The pictures,” he paused, drawing in a breath, “they were of the Bifrost—the transportation system used in Asgard.” His palms were clammy with sweat, his chest tight with the implications of what this could mean and he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew it was true. Someone from Asgard was here.

“Sit down, Loki,” Fury instructed and Loki immediately moved to obey, not second guessing anything at this point—not with how he felt he was shaking apart at the seams. “Do you have any idea if someone was arriving or leaving?”

“Arriving—there was the form of a body in the pictures. The agents pointed it out the second they showed me the images.”

Fury nodded and he leaned against the table right next to Loki and his mere presence was enough to relax him slightly, allowing the intake of air to not be as difficult, loosening the tightness in his chest. It felt like his stomach was held in an iron grip, though; unforgiving and cold, making him restless, wanting to squirm to loosen it, but failing because no matter what he did, it wouldn’t leave.

“Do you know who it is?”

He shook his head.

Fury reached out, placed a steady hand on Loki’s shoulder and squeezed gently. The tension bled out of him and he involuntarily slumped back against the seat, breath escaping his lungs shakily before drawing it back in.

“Are they here for you?”

“Doubtful,” Loki responded, tilting his head up towards the ceiling and staring at the plain white before his eyes slid towards the vent a bit ways off on the side. “Heimdall cannot see me and Laufey’s visit has long since passed—it wouldn’t be wise of Asgard to suddenly send someone now about it.” Fury’s hand left his shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest, brows pulling together as his mind went through a list of what could possibly be happening.

“What other reason would they have of coming here?”

Loki side wearily, eyes sliding over to focus on Fury, shoulders slumped in defeat as he responded. “I don’t know.

When he left the room, it was to run into Natasha and Clint who were staring at him expectantly. Sighing slowly, he continued to walk toward the elevator, the two following and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“So,” Clint drawled, wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist and resting his chin on the god’s shoulder.

“You already heard everything.”

The blonde flailed, scoffing indignantly, but the look in his eyes and the fact that he was smiling sheepishly gave him away. Natasha snorted, pulling out her phone and typing away on it as they moved out of the elevator.

“Come on, you two. There’s a sushi place I want to try.”

“Can’t,” Clint muttered, wincing as he looked at the two guiltily. They paused, eyes locked on the blonde as he adjusted the collar of his mission suit, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. “I have to head down to New Mexico again, give the place a last once over with Coulson. I should be back tomorrow and I know I promised to go, but—”

“Clint, relax,” Loki soothed, reaching out and laying a hand on the man’s shoulder like Fury had done with him earlier. “It’s fine. We’ll put it off until tomorrow, no big deal.”

Natasha nodded her consent and Clint grinned, pressing a quick kiss to both of their cheeks before taking off down the hall, calling back something about how the sooner he left, the sooner they would eat raw fish and he’d be out of a desert. There had been a mixture of groaning about sand in very personal areas in there somewhere.

“Coffee,” Natasha declared, grabbing Loki’s hand and tugging him along.

Clint came back completely fine, said he had no clue exactly what happened, if he was being completely honest, but there had been some blonde guy and a girl who was now completely smitten with him despite the fact that he left to go on the rainbow bridge.

The entire story sounded like one of Clint’s drunk tales and Coulson’s story was a bit more put together than Clint’s, but still relatively the same. It had all been resolved in the matter of a week and they all went home, including the man from Asgard.

It didn’t matter much to Loki, though.

He was happy enough with just knowing his friends were safe and that no one from Asgard had found him yet. He had finally established a rather stable sense of self-confidence and esteem and he did not need anyone from the golden realm coming and shattering it to pieces.

Clint stayed with him that night along with Natasha—even Fury and Phil stopped by for a bit, and Loki merely watched his friends sleep, sitting in his chair and sipping his water. He loved his little self-made family here on Midgard, cherished it beyond all else and just the thought of losing it was enough to make his chest tight with anxiety.

The simple threat of someone otherworldly coming had made him apprehensive. Even when Laufey had come, he had been apprehensive, but it hadn’t actually settled in how easily someone could find him if they really tried until after the man left, promising to send a message somehow if he were to visit again.

Looking at his friends, he smiled, rising and grabbing a blanket to drape over their bodies where they lay on his bed. Walking to the living room, he laid down on the couch, setting his water on the coffee table before stretching out and closing his eyes.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. No, he assumed he wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next few days—not after that scare, but turns out he could and did and he had never regretted it more.

The large calloused hands gripped slim hips tightly, dragged him closer as blue eyes searched green. Hot breaths were puffed out against his face, mixing with his own as they stood there, eclipsed in an everlasting silence.

He could smell the mead rolling off the male in front of him pinning him against the bedroom wall. His fingers gripped the broad shoulders, pressing his own against the wall in an effort to not lose complete power in the situation.

“Brother, why are you pushing me away?”

He grunted; shoving against the strong shoulder, shifting his hips in an attempt to dislodge the hands gripping them and never before had he been so glad that his brother was well and truly drunk, so far over the edge that his grip became slack despite the amount of strength he had in his body. It was amusing to a degree, but situations lost their amusement quite quickly when they were in truth rather serious.

“Possibly because you’re completely and utterly inebriated and I would prefer not to have you breathing down my neck,” he hissed, shoving the man away and watching the muscled blonde stumble back, nearly losing his balance.

“Fandral said you kept looking at me strangely the whole night.”

“You shouldn’t listen to idiotic blondes when they’re about as far gone as you are.” He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is concern really such an odd look on me?”

“He said you looked like you wanted to bed me.”

He spluttered, jaw dropping and cheeks burning bright in indignation while his arms fell to his sides, muscles coiled tight. “Well, you should tell Fandral to get his eyes checked and not to accuse people of such things.” His heart was thudding against his rib cage as he gazed at his brother, hiding the truth deep inside of himself. “He should know better not to say such things like that, wasted or not. The scandal it could cause—it would drag your name through the mud.”

Thor winced, walking forward a few stumbling steps before nearly falling and Loki rushed forward against his better judgment, helping the blonde straighten up. “Your name as well, brother.”

Sending a quick thanks to the Norns that Thor’s system thankfully had a thing of cleaning alcohol out rather quickly, he sat the blonde down on the bed, summoning water and thanking the Norns once more that the blonde would most likely remember none of this—including the display of magic.

He ignored the comment, imagined that the reason his heart was beating so loud was from having to carry Thor’s bulk briefly.

“Drink up and return to the party, brother. Tell Fandral to mind his own business and to not lie. Try not to get completely intoxicated this time.” He repeated the words over and over, easing his brother through several cups of water before watching the blonde amble to the bathroom to take a leak.

When the blonde returned, it was to an empty room. He shrugged and went back to the party and did exactly as his younger brother had instructed, though he didn’t remember it.

Loki hid in his room, buried under his covers with his body flushed a light shade of red in shame as he wept silently into his pillow. He had been too obvious in his feelings, feelings that would never be returned; not from his oaf of a brother and certainly not from anyone else on Asgard.

He curled up under his blankets and cried himself to sleep, determined tomorrow to wash away his shame and better perfect his masks so that such slip ups wouldn’t occur again.

Waking up, Loki stared at the ceiling, dazed eyes counting how many times he blinked before the image cleared up and he managed to pull himself to sit. The apartment was silent and Loki rose, checked on his two friends who were still sound asleep, before heading to the bathroom to shower.

He remembered telling Thor of his feelings once, when they were near sleep. Thor had scrunched his face up in confusion and said that there was nothing wrong with Loki liking men, though he would recommend doing something about his appearance.

“You won’t get anyone into bed with you with the way you look now, brother.”

Sighing softly, Loki ran the soap down the line of his body, eyes closed as he let the warm water beat down on the skin of his back while he worked shampoo into his hair. When he opened his eyes, it was to a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a face full of red as a head rested itself on his collar bone.

There was another pair of arms that joined the first and the hard line of a body behind him and he leaned back, letting the spray of water rinse out the shampoo in his hair as bow skilled fingers worked through the strands one handedly before there was a soft kiss placed on his cheek.

“Morning, Lo,” Clint whispered and Natasha nuzzled his neck, giving his waist a squeeze to show her bid of good morning as well. He smiled softly, lazily reaching his hands up, one to card through wet red locks and the other to scrape at the scalp of blonde, rubbing and massaging.

“Morning,” he mumbled back and let himself fall silent in the simple domesticity of his little family.

A year went by surprisingly quickly and through it all, Loki had Natasha and Clint by his sides, helping him through the maze that was Midgard. He enjoyed the realm immensely and he loved his new home and friends.

Missions were relatively easy and there were thankfully no more disturbances until Fury called him in one day, arms crossed over his chest and expression tight and closed off.

“We have something of extreme importance to discuss with all three of you,” Director Fury uttered, eye narrowed on them and behind him stood Maria Hill and Phil Coulson, expressions meditative and Loki, Natasha, and Clint immediately zeroed in, hands clasped behind their backs. “Follow us.”

They moved like a single ocean and agents in the halls parted ways to let them pass.

The elevator was empty and they were taken to a launching pad, instructed to get into a Quinjet. Agent Hill was in charge of flying it to the wanted destination and Natasha, Loki, and Clint sat in the back, silently communicating with each other through expressions alone.

Agent Coulson sat across from them and eventually they turned their eyes onto him, brows furrowed and arms crossed as they leaned back against the side of the Quinjet. Coulson stared right back and Loki side glanced at Clint who was tense next to him. There seemed to be a silent conversation going between the two from their eyes alone and Loki tossed Natasha a look and she shrugged her shoulders minutely.

They landed on the landing pad of another SHIELD base and upon exiting the Quinjet, Loki froze.

There was a pulse in the earth, an energy buzzing around the building and he could feel his own seidr respond to it. It curled in his gut and ignited his nerves, sending pleasant thrills down his spine.

“You have something of magic here,” he stated simply, feeling his seidr vibrate in restlessness, eager to see what had such an aura about it, such power.

Director Fury grunted, grinning slightly as if he could tell that under his calm mask Loki was on edge, eager to see what it was that had called them there; what it was that he was feeling.

“Indeed; now, follow us. It’s on the underground levels.”

They moved quickly amongst masses of agents, worming around tables and computers before ending up at an elevator again. The ride down consisted of silence and he heard Clint whisper to Natasha about how he missed elevator music at times like this. Apparently there had been a time where SHIELD elevators had it.

It didn’t bother Loki much, having grown into SHIELD with the silence and he was already a fan of silence to begin with.

It was peaceful; calming.

His eyes slipped closed.

A flash of blue eyes appeared behind his eyelids, a low baritone bellowing his name.

“Loki!”

Snapping his eyes open, he felt two fingers against the back of his thigh. They were strong and reassuring and he relaxed as Fury brushed past, retracting his touch as the doors opened.

Moving after him, Loki’s eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in the heavily reinforced walls, the lone table with a computer on top of it. There was another table, further to the back, holding what appeared to be a spread of different tools.

But then his eyes shifted and they focused in on what was pulsing, shaking him to his very core.

His magic hummed, thrived, and before he knew it, he was walking past Fury. His eyes reflected the blue light of the object held in a circular metal frame with wires running along the sheets. His eyes took it all in, drank it in.

He reached out, didn’t touch, but let his magic linger on the tips, pressing against his skin as it felt the thrum of the blue cube.

“The Tesseract—where did you find it? How did you find it?”

“Howard Stark found it. We’ve been trying to study it.”

Loki glanced at the wiring again before making his way to the computer. His fingers flew over the keys, typing in numbers and letters faster than he himself could comprehend, but his seidr was singing in recognition to the energy, to the feeling of power. It responded to the tesseract and Loki rolled with it.

Glancing at his work, he blinked, first in confusion and then in understanding. “There—understanding its energy should be easier.”

Clint walked over, glancing over his shoulder with analytical blue eyes and Loki watched as those eyes made quick work of what he had typed. His nod was short and he brushed the backs of his knuckles against Loki’s hip as he turned to face Director Fury.

“It seems correct.”

Agent Coulson nodded a bit, motioning with his hand for them to run the program and Clint hit enter. The machines whirred to life and Loki noticed finally other monitors set up and the array of wires covering the floor.

It was a miracle he hadn’t tripped over them.

Clint’s huff of disbelieved laughter made him turn his attention to the computer screen once again. The numbers were running smoothly, the data appearing on a graph, on another monitor a table—there were pulses of energy and Loki hummed appreciatively at the feel of magic.

“It works, alright.”

“Of course it works,” Loki snorted indignantly. “What do you want with the tesseract, anyway?” His attention was now fixed on Fury, an eyebrow cocked in confusion while he crossed his arms over his chest. Fury walked over, glancing at the numbers.

“Clean energy,” he responded simply. Loki frowned, fingers twitching, but he nodded his head in response. That wasn’t the full story, he knew it, but he wouldn’t push. It would be revealed in its own time. If he wasn’t told, it meant it wasn’t of major importance as of right now. “I was thinking of calling Professor Erik Selvig onto the project. He might understand some parts we don’t after the research he and Jane Foster did on the Bifrost.”

“Why not call her onto the job, also?” Natasha asked and Director Fury nodded his head a bit, arms crossed over his chest as well.

Loki wondered if it was just an agent thing and they all did it without really processing it.

“I might, but Selvig is number one on my list to get on the project—she would be more secondary.”

“Drop him a call, then. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

“You have no idea how much it means to be on this project. Things like this are so rare and after that incident, I’ve been eager to get back out of the field—or lab, rather—and get to working on some things.”

He lurked in the corner with Clint, resting his arms around the blonde’s waist and placing his chin on a firm shoulder. “Why are we here?” he whispered, breath brushing along the column of the man’s throat.

“You’re here for containment,” Clint stated, reaching down and resting his hands on Loki’s, a reassuring weight, “if there’s a sudden catastrophic burst of energy. I’m here to spot if there’s any irregularities that,” he cocked his head back, sending Loki a side glance, “no one else can spot.”

Loki hummed, nuzzling closer and thankful for the shadows of the walls since their easy friendship could be seen as unprofessional to outsiders. Erik Selvig’s eyes flickered towards them for a moment and Clint’s fingers flexed against his arm and with a quick draw of will, the shadows created a blanket around them, shielding them from vision completely.

“You’re tense.”

He drew back as Clint released a sigh, shaking his head.

“I just don’t want another lecture form Fury.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, reaching out and cupping his hands around the jaw, looking deep into blue eyes. “No, that’s not what’s bothering you. You were fine before. What’s wrong?”

The blonde hesitated, a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, the shaky intake of air and Loki didn’t hesitate to press a thumb against each temple, long fingers dragging through the short blonde hair. It never ceased to make Clint automatically relax, a trick he had picked up from Agent Coulson when the blonde had gotten dangerously close to having a panic attack on a mission.

“I don’t,” he breathed out, hands coming up to grip Loki’s forearms—not to pull him away, but to hold himself steady, eyes blinking rapidly as they darted about before settling on Loki’s face and staying there. “It feels—there’s a feeling about him, a—a look, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. It’s putting me on edge.” His breathing was unsteady, fingers pressing harder as he tried to ground himself, tried to dig his feet into the ground before he got away from the situation.

“Okay, okay, Clint, just breathe. Breathe…”

Their foreheads were knocked together, Loki staring deep into his eyes and he listened to the heartbeat come down, to the breathing steady, to the fluttering of eyelashes coming slowly to a stop as those eyes slipped closed for a moment before flying open and with a ragged breath, Clint was back, staring deep into emerald.

“Just—just be careful. Don’t—don’t say your name, don’t look him in the eyes too much and don’t use your magic. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary—please,” Clint was now the one holding Loki’s face, hands clammy and fingers cold, “just trust me on this one.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he breathed, trembling minutely, “okay,” the man slumped against the wall, slowly sliding to sit, “okay.”

Loki just gave him the time to come down, to slowly work out of the panic induced high he had gotten himself on and once he seemed calm enough, he slid and sat down next to him.

“If it helps ease your mind, I got in touch with Natasha the other day.” The blonde noticeably perked up, turning wide blue eyes on him and raven sent him an easy smile, reaching out and clasping his hand gently, delivering a small squeeze. “She’s perfectly alright. No wounds, no nothing. Just fine,” he whispered.

With that, Clint lost whatever tension remained in his body, slumped against the cement behind him in relief as his head lolled to rest on his shoulder, easy breaths of relief puffing out of him. It was a silent few minutes of relaxation and with the whispered promise of coffee once they left, Loki stood up along with the blonde, returning to their original positions.

Long arms covered in the black spandex of his mission suit coiled around Clint’s wait, gloved fingers lacing with each other and resting against his front. His chin placed itself on a firm shoulder and strong hands rested against his forearms, a reassuring weight as the veil of magic lifted off them.

When the attack happens, Loki’s at home, on his bed, curled up around his pillow. His phone vibrates and he hears the sound of it rattling about on top of the bedside table. He sits up, taps the screen and lifts it to his ear.

“Loki—”

“What is it?”

“We have a problem. There’s someone here—come quickly, please.”

The call dropped.

Tense and gripping his phone with cold fingers, he quickly waved his hand, donning his mission suit, grabbing weapons from his drawers and strapping them on easily before pocketing the phone in a pouch along his waist.

It was in a split second that he appeared in the lab, the familiar blue glow of the tesseract, and he winced back as he saw Director Fury there, talking to a person. Clint was on the side, near Fury, and Loki eased his way towards him with deliberately slow steps, acting as if he had been there all along.

The woman, he could now tell, was poised sharp and elegant, cocking a fine eyebrow at their director. The green costume she was wearing struck a memory deep in his mind and Loki caught himself quickly.

Amora…

His heart clenched and with a simple twitch of his fingers, his appearance changed; nothing horrendously drastic. His hair turned a dark blonde, curly and short and his eyes went to blue color, clear and pale, a light scruff dusting his chin and cheeks while his skin took on a bit of a tanner shade.

He could not afford to be recognized by her. That would be bad.

He remembered her from his younger days in Asgard when Thor had gotten big and strong, muscular in every way Loki was not.

He remembered her pretending to be nice to him to get closer to his brother.

She was the only person Loki thought he would be able to consider a friend back in those days. The only person Loki had ever let in while in Asgard—and she was the last.

“So, you don’t like training?” she questioned, pulling long blonde hair over her shoulder as the green of her gentle leather armor rippled with the movement. Loki nodded his head in response, fingers twisting each other, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“Not really. I’m not allowed on the training ground too often, though, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

She nodded, leaning back on her hands and tilting her head to the sky. She moved further back, resting now on her elbows, twisting her body sideways just slightly so that her cleavage bulged just a bit outside of the constraints of the leather.

“Have you considered other forms of activity?”

Loki glanced over, tilted his head and frowned, lips pursing together in thought. He missed her annoyed glance at his seeming obliviousness. He wasn’t oblivious, though; just completely uninterested.

The supple bulges of breasts were for comfort, Thor said. There was always a lecherous grin on his face when he said it nowadays, though. Apparently Odin used to tell Thor that when he was younger and now Thor seemed to live by the words with the raging hormones practically oozing from every pore of his skin.

Loki found comfort in his mother’s, enjoyed burying his face in them whenever his mother fell asleep and he would fall asleep on them in turn like when he was a child.

It wasn’t the same, though—not to what Thor meant when he said those words.

“No, I haven’t. There doesn’t seem to be any other good form of exercise around here—at least that’s what father says,” he responded curtly, pressing his fingers to his skin, watching it turn blue under his touch, just a small ring, and he smiled a bit at the sight. The pulse of the casket was a small reassurance in its pocket of space and he breathed slowly, feeling his heart fall in tune with it.

“You’ve really never thought of anything else?”

She crawled closer, swung a leg over both of his and sat herself on his lap, hands easily coming up to rub at his shoulders.

“Nope,” he muttered, quickly folding his hands and thinking of the books he had stored in the library. “There’s a tutoring session I have to get to. My brother needs some help. You’re welcome to come, if you’d like.” He wriggled out from under her, dusting off his pants and heading towards the palace.

Her stare burned into his back, but he kept walking, not looking back and she fell into step beside him to go find his brother. He liked her well enough, though something about her set him on edge. However, he was lonely—he wanted a friend above everything and she was willing to provide him with friendship, so he pushed it aside.

Loki attempted to ignore the way she sat next to Thor during the tutoring session, how Thor sent her a blinding smile and seemed to ignore the entirety of what came out of Loki’s mouth.

He regretted inviting her in the days to come.

She automatically gravitated towards Thor afterwards, went searching for the blonde whenever she could.

Then the rumors started. Apparently she had told Thor that Loki had been unwilling to ‘put out’ and Thor had decided to fix that problem.

As Thor sat in his room telling him the story, of how she was in bed, how she was so desperate for it because Loki wouldn’t give her any, Loki could feel a gaping hole opening up inside him, large and all-consuming. Thor had the terrible habit of not thinking about whether or not Loki actually cared about how many women he had bedded in the last few sun rises.

“You should have given her what she wanted, Loki. You know it’s hard enough for you to find a girl that hasn’t gotten any before, just like you.”

He gritted his teeth, stood, and instructed his brother to leave his chambers at once.

“I meant no offense, dear brother. It’s sweet that you want to save yourself for the one, honestly.”

He could hear the mocking humor in Thor’s words, though.

“That’s nice, but offense was taken. Out,” he hissed, long pale fingers pointing to the door. “I would not sully a girl I had no romantic interest in. That’s demeaning, not only to them, but to me as a person.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t, though.” Thor commented, almost as an after-thought and nearly to himself, but Loki caught the words and his eyes narrowed.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Thor froze; eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, as if he realized what just came out of his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to say that, apparently, and Loki’s eyes narrowed further, his hands curling into fists and teeth grinding.

“I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, you did, so explain.”

A chair slid in front of the door with a mere look from Loki and although a mere chair would no doubt not be enough to hold Thor in the room, the implication was clear. He wasn’t leaving until he explained.

“She—she said,” he cleared his throat and Loki watched him edging to the door, fingers curling and uncurling from fists, sweat dotting his brow, “she said that the only reason she hung around you was to,” and Loki’s stomach dropped, his insides felt hot, burning, and his jaw tightened.

“To get to you—got it,” were his muttered words and the chair slid back to where it belonged. “Leave.”

The blonde edged closer for a moment, towards Loki, as if to supply comfort. He parted his lips as if to say something—anything—but then he left, turning on his heel and exiting the room.

Loki comforted himself with the reminder that Thor had at least thought about how he probably felt in that moment—had been thinking of going to comfort him. He slept fitfully that night, staring at the ceiling and wishing he hadn’t been so desperate for someone he couldn’t have.

Thor didn’t stop sleeping with her on Loki’s behalf. He continued on as if that conversation had never happened, but for the duration of that relationship, Loki was left completely alone in his corner with his books and the small assurance that he knew it wouldn’t last.