Rejection
At first Thor looks confused, like he doesn't quite understand. He opens his mouth and then closes it. Loki waits patiently, weirdly calm.
It's the quiet before the storm. He still can't believe he's just went to the quarterback star straight after their shared class and asked him out. He, Loki Laufeyson, a nobody on their campus.
'Uh,' Thor says eloquently after what feels like an eternity. His eyes drift to the side and he puts his hands in the pockets of his jersey jacket. A clear picture of discomfort, if Loki's ever seen one. 'It's really, uh. Flattering? But I don't swing this way, pal. Sorry.'
A lead ball drops into Loki's stomach. Oh.
Of course.
'I understand,' he answers with a tight smile. 'It's okay.' He doesn't know how he manages to say it without bursting into tears. His voice doesn't even sound shaky. Such a contrast to his insides that seem to be freezing and burning at the same time.
What an embarrassment.
It's silly, really. Not like he ever had any chance with someone like Thor to begin with. Still, he allowed himself the luxury of fantasy. He remembers Amora's words – What do you have to lose, really? Even if he refuses, he won't laugh in your face. He's a nice guy.
She had been right, of course. It's a small blessing but a blessing nonetheless.
Though it doesn't feel like one at the moment.
'I mean,' Thor hurries to explain. Like this awkward situation is his fault. Like it isn't Loki's and Loki's only. 'I don't have anything against... gays. You know. Or you.' He smiles bashfully. 'You're cool. And smart. Really impressive out there,' he makes a vague gesture towards the classroom. Loki keeps an understanding smile plastered to his face. Twist the knife deeper, why don't you. 'It's just. I'm not interested in guys.'
Please stop talking, Loki thinks. He wants to get out of there. Hide somewhere and pretend this never happened.
'Thor. You don't have to explain yourself. Really, it's fine. 's not like I expected you to agree anyway.' A short snort of humorless laugh escapes his lips. 'Just... wanted to give it a try, is all.' He shrugs. Good, Lokey dokey, keep it up. Just a while longer and then you can hole up in your room and die.
But there's that look on Thor's face. Sympathetic. Almost pitying. Like he wants to comfort him. And Loki can't handle this.
He turns his face to the side, trying to hide his emotions, grateful for not tying his hair up that morning. The grip he has on his textbook is borderline on painful. You're not going to cry in front of him, you stupid fuck.
Blessedly, the Gods decide to have some mercy on him after all. Before any of them can say anything else, a loud voice booms from the end of the corridor.
'Yo, Storm, you comin' or not?'
He winces and hopes Thor doesn't notice. With Loki's luck, he probably does.
It's Fandral, obviously. Loki knows that obnoxious voice too well. One of Thor's teammates and best friends. Probably the biggest fuckboy on campus. A type that gave kids like Loki swirlies in high school.
He wants to turn on his heel and run but his treacherous body feels frozen in place.
'Yeah, just a moment,' Thor yells over his shoulder. 'Again, I'm sorry,' he says quieter.
Loki risks to throw a quick glance at his face. That goddamn straight-out-of-commercial face. Heavenly blue eyes, lips that turn in the most handsome, broad smile, hair falling over his shoulders in streams of liquid gold. And his goddamn perfect body. He could probably bench press a small car.
And, what is probably the worst, he looks like he genuinely means his words.
'Yeah, whatever. Forget it. Just... don't tell anyone. Please?' It's pathetic but Loki has enough problems as it is. Doesn't need to add the whole college knowing about his unfortunate confession to the list.
'Don't worry about that.' Thor moves to leave and when Loki's about to let out a breath of relief he stops, turns back to him. 'If you ever want to hang out... as friends, hit me up.'
Fuck no.
'Sure thing,' Loki answers tightly and wow, he's just managed to smile. A goddamn fine actor, he is.
He watches Thor's broad back as he joins his friend and disappears behind the corner. He'll probably forget about the whole thing before they reach the exit. Loki doesn't know if it's good or not.
He hurries back to his room and even if his eyes glass over with bitter tears that blurry his way there's no one around to witness it.
His flatmate Clint is not there when he arrives. Loki allows himself to cry into his pillow a little bit, then takes a depression nap. Wakes up when it's already dark outside, feeling groggy, weak and even more sad.
He's got three missed calls from Amora and a stream of unread text messages.
He said no, he texts her and throws his phone somewhere on the bed. Then curls back under the blankets. It's not good for him, he knows. The temptation to fall back into bad habits is always strong. But Loki can't find it in himself to care. Allow him this small luxury after being dumped.
The worst thing about it was how nice Thor was. How understanding. And maybe Loki overvalues him. He probably is. It's just – he's not used to nice things. Not used to others treating him like he's an actual human being. Amora's really the only one who's ever been friendly towards him.
He almost wishes the blonde laughed into his face. Insulted or pushed him. It would be easier to get over – that he's used to.
He should also be used to things not going his way and yet there he is, moping over something that was impossible to begin with.
It's your own fault, a quiet voice at the back of his head says. Loki supposes it's true. He shouldn't have let himself get his hopes up. He tried to, but that stupid little flame still burned somewhere deep, tingling his insides.
It's gone now and Loki shivers underneath his blankets.
Amora calls some time later, snatching him from a hazy drowse. Asks whether he wants her to come, if he needs anything. Loki almost bursts into tears at how gentle she sounds, how ready to console him. And he wants nothing else. Wants nothing else than to be hugged and reassured.
He excuses himself with a migraine and she knows better than to push.
Loki's therapeut Bruce would probably call this indirect self-harm. How he always takes a chance to kick himself when already down. He's not delusional enough to disagree.
His crush on Thor started in freshman year.
It took Thor three months of college to become an extraordinary member of the football team and the residential heart-throb. Loki didn't have much expectations when he first appeared in his Literature class. What input could the stereotypical jock and fratboy give? Dude will drop out after the first semester, he thought.
It was the shock the blonde gave him that has actually caught Loki's attention. Because Thor was so much more than a typical jock. He actually read the books their professor would recommend to them. Always had reasonable questions that didn't make Loki roll his eyes with their obviousness. His way of viewing and interpreting the texts was unique and astute.
Somehow they ended up sitting next to each other, Thor for some reason not being put off by Loki's sarcastic and biting attitude.
The fact he looked like goddamn Apollo was just a bonus.
Loki had been pinning after him for two full years before Amora challenged him to ask Thor out. And maybe he could sense the disaster from a mile but his pride was bigger than the state of Texas. Add the significant amount of alcohol the two of them had that night and Loki agreed in a blink.
A fatal mistake, to think about it, but he's never been good with self-preservation and all that shit.
What he's good at, instead, is pretending that he doesn't care. Hiding all his emotions behind a wall of indifference and sarcasm. Laughing when he wants to cry, merely averting his eyes while he feels like screaming and tearing.
He's a champ at that.
It's just natural that when he walks into the classroom the next day and sees Thor situated in the farthest seat from his, Loki doesn't do as much as blink. Keeps his head high and back straight and walks the whole distance to his place. Sits down and prepares for the class And if his hands shake a bit and his heart breaks ultimately, he makes a good work of hiding it.