Loki stood alone on the balcony of Stark Tower, gazing out across the shadowed city. New York was quite beautiful sight, bathed in a mirage of reds, oranges, and gold from the sun setting at the horizon.
He didn’t hear Anthony approach, nor did he turn when he spoke.
“What’re you doing out here alone?” the mortal asked.
“I almost destroyed this, didn’t I?” Loki asked instead. A question answered with a question- oh how he knew that infuriated the mortal.
“Almost,” the genius replied. “But didn’t.”
“I tried, did I not?” he asked, still not turning round to face his lover. He could hear the frown in Anthony’s voice when he spoke.
“What’s this really about, Lo?”
Oh, how he loved when the mortal called him that.
“This cannot continue.” It was said sharply, angrily. He was not angry at the mortal, though, but at himself for letting himself get taken so far into Anthony’s world.
“What can’t continue?” Though the tone in the genius’s voice said he knew just what Loki was referring to. Still, Anthony wanted to hear it, he supposed, on the off-chance that he were wrong.
“Us,” he replied calmly, everything hidden behind a perfectly formed façade. “What we have. It cannot continue. We cannot continue.”
“Please,” the foolish mortal huffed. “I know you have some self-hate issues, but come on, Lo…don’t push me away too.”
Don’t push him away too. As if he knew of all the others who hadn’t needed pushing….
“I am not ‘pushing you away’ as you so kindly put it. I am simply stating a fact.”
“You know I won’t let you leave. I need you.” It was a simple statement, but it hit sharply, a physical pain in his chest, because he knew the mortal was right. He did need Loki, just as Loki needed him. It was a vicious cycle of codependency that had formed; well, he supposed it was better than Anthony dying of alcohol poisoning or Loki accidently killing himself when being too reckless in battle.
“Foolish mortal,” he said with a sigh. “You would not say such if you had seen my true form.”
“I highly doubt that,” Anthony replied, disbelief clear in his tone. Loki only hesitated a moment before letting the glamour he held over his body go. Ever so slowly, pale skin began to fade into a dark, dark blue. Silvery markings chased each other across his skin, disappearing beneath the neck of his tunic. His eyes pooled with a deep, murky scarlet. He turned to face Anthony, heard the sharp intake of breath as he turned his eyes down to the mortal.
“Do you still say you need me?” he asked, voice gravelly. “Go ahead, run, Anthony. I am repulsive. A monster.” Self-hate was evident in his tone and posture.
“You’re….” Anthony began, dark eyes climbing across Loki’s body. “Beautiful,” the mortal said finally; a whisper of breath so quiet Loki would’ve missed it had he not been waiting with bated breath. Shock straightened his spine and widened his eyes.
“What? What is it you spoke?” Loki asked, believing he had misheard.
“You’re absolutely beautiful, Loki. I’ve…I’ve never seen anything like it…” Anthony’s eyes moved up to his own, but there was no fear in the mortals, only honesty and mesmerized wonder.
“Anyone,” Anthony continued. “Who’s ever told you that you’re a monster, they’re all wrong.” It was repeated, quieter this time. “They’re all wrong.”
The mortals warm hand came up to cradle his cheek, thumb idly stroking his cheekbone. The other hand moved to find his own, fingers twining with his.
“I do not understand,” Loki breathed. “What trickery is this?”
“None, Lo. If…if everyone could just swallow their pride, they’d understand. You’re…” the mortal shook his head, as if trying to find the right words. “I love you.” Anthony rose onto his toes, arms curling round Loki’s neck as fiery lips came to meet his in a crash of passion.
“I love you too,” Loki replied, and was surprised to find he meant it.
In the time it took for the sun to fully set and the stars to come into view, Loki realized two things- One, he was no monster in Anthony’s eyes; Anthony, who’d held the title ‘Merchant of Death’ and so many others. Anthony, who’d been captured by the Ten Rings, who knew full well what a monster looked like. And two, he truly loved this mortal, with his entire being; there was no possible way he could bring himself to leave.
“So,” Anthony said, breaking the silence as they laid on the ground beside each other, watching the stars, his arm around the mortal, Anthony’s head on his chest. “Can ‘this’ continue?”
Loki was silent for a moment before answering.
“Yes,” he said, kissing the top of Anthony’s head. “This can continue.”