The first time he came in, he was drunk with a gaggle of his friends. The boy with the soft brown hair and softer brown eyes, cheeks flushed as he stumbled past the threshold and into the parlor. Loki was drawn to him, and he couldn’t quite tell why, but those eyes held something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Before long, he found himself leaning against a wall near the group, who laughed as though they had all of time to waste.
One of the others made a comment, deadpan and smirking, and the boy threw his head back laughing. It was beautiful.
“MJ, I will pay you twenty bucks to get a nipple piercing right now.” Loki looked through them all to share a look with Brunnhilde, who traded him an amused look as the one with black hair and tanned skin issued the challenge. “Like, seriously, and you can pick whatever earrings you want for me to wear for a week.”
A laugh bubbled out of the girl, MJ, and she leveled her gaze with Brunnhilde. “How much do those cost? ‘Cause I’m not losing money on this.”
Brunnhilde chuckled, leaning down under the desk to grab two piercing kits. “It’s usually $40, but I’ll give you one for twenty and charge your friend here extra for his ear.”
“Sounds good to me,” MJ replied, as the friend in question cried out in protest.
“I’ll pay the difference,” the third in their trio volunteered. “I don’t want Ned going broke because he can’t make good drunk decisions.” That earned him an elbow in the ribs from Ned and a laugh from MJ, and Loki felt his smirk grow into a real smile as he met warm brown eyes with his own.
“Loki, get your useless gay ass over here and help.” Brunnhilde waved to him from where she was getting out the case of small metal bars, studs, and rings that she will soon stab through her willing victims. “Disinfect the needles and bring over liability waivers while they choose what they’re getting.”
Loki rolled his eyes but did as he was told, because as much as he knew she was a big softie, Brunn was not one to be fucked with. As he finished finding the correct forms, he looked up to see the boy watching him. Loki winked and was met with a fierce blush as he turned away, bringing up a hand to scratch the back of his neck. He smiled to himself and walked over to the group, absentmindedly rattling off the legal bullshit that he was required to say.
The rest of the night passed in a bit of a blur, with MJ keeping a straight face as Brunnhilde pierced her nipple, and Ned squeezing his other friend’s hand while Loki did his ear, placing a ridiculous hot pink rhinestone that MJ had picked out. He couldn’t help himself from glancing over at brown eyes and flushed cheeks as he grimaced in pain at Ned’s hold on him, looking up to meet his gaze when Loki huffed out a quiet laugh. After they paid, and he smiled openly back at Loki. When he left, and Loki’s gaze traveled slightly down because he could appreciate the art that was the boy’s slim but sturdy form. And when Brunnhilde shot him a knowing look while they closed, he knew that he would remember the boy with warm brown eyes for many years to come.
The second time he came in, Loki felt as though he was in a time loop. He’d just finished up a back piece, the third four-hour session, and he had barely sat down with a glass of water when the trio barreled back into the parlor. Hela barely glanced up from the desk as they came in, a sign that Loki was going to have to deal with them. He stepped over to where the group was standing, looking slightly like the drunk college student version of the Hogwarts three.
“How can I help you all today?” He asked, keeping his voice as level as he could with the excitement of seeing his “brown eyed boy” (as the staff at Asgard’s had taken to calling him) again churning inside of him.
MJ smirked and muttered something in his ear, causing the boy to turn wildly red and glare at her fiercely. He pointedly turned to Loki, earning a smirk and an expectantly raised eyebrow. “I’m being peer pressured into getting a piercing.” He said, looking as defiant as he could while drunk in a tattoo parlor at 11:30 on a Thursday night. “And since you did Ned’s and it’s been two weeks and he hasn’t managed to get an infection yet,” there was a less than dignified noise from Ned as he continued, “You’re my best bet at coming out of here with a good hole in my ear.”
“Well, how can I say no to that,” Loki drawled, grabbing a piercing kit. “Have a seat in one of the chairs from last time, and I’ll bring over everything we need.”
MJ muttered something again, and the boy giggled, the sound spilling out of him in sputtered bursts. Loki walked over to them, the case of earrings in one hand and the waiver and kit in the other. “I’m gonna need you to fill out this form, but I’m not going to go over all of this again because I have precisely no desire to.”
“Sound good to me.” He ran a hand through his hair as he took the pen from Loki, eyes skimming over the form and then signing at the bottom. “I’m Peter, by the way.”
“Loki.” He replied, taking the form from the boy. The name fit him, and Loki was glad to finally have something real to call him. “Pick out your earring, and we can begin.”
Ned’s face split into a gleeful grin and MJ smirked as Peter selected a small black stud, fidgeting all the while. He leaned back in the chair, and Loki began to disinfect his earlobe. There was a tension in the air, and Loki felt Peter’s neck muscles flex under his hand. A quick glance at his face revealed a furrowed brow and eyes clenched shut, his features scrunched up in a mixture of fear and concentration.
“Hey, Peter.” The boy opened his eyes, gazing up at Loki. “You’re going to be fine. It’ll hurt for a few moments, and then it’s gone.” He nodded, and Loki marked his ear, taking the needle out of its case. “Okay, I’m going in on the count of three.” Ned took one of his hands and MJ clasped the other, but it looked like they were holding tighter than Peter was. “One, two,” He pushed the needle through, causing Peter to wince and yelp.
“I thought you were going to go on three!” He protested as Loki slid the earring in place.
“It hurts less if you’re not expecting it.” Loki shrugged, snapping off his gloves and packing all of the used materials away. “I don’t see any bleeding as of yet, but if you experience a little, that’s totally normal. Just twist it regularly but don’t fidget with it quite yet, and keep it clean.”
“Will do.” Peter hopped off the chair, following Loki to the counter while MJ and Ned stayed seated. He began absentmindedly flipping through one of the tattoo portfolios, and let out a gasp. “You’re a tattoo artist.”
Loki looked up from the computer. “Yes. What, did you think I spent all day stabbing pieces of metal through people’s skin?” He didn’t miss Peter’s glance at his left ear, which had seven piercings lining the edge.
“First of all, your job is to stab people and fill their skin with ink.” He said accusingly as he handed over his credit card. “And second of all, you have tons of piercings!”
“We were all 19 and doing stupid shit once. Brunn convinced me that they would complete my aesthetic, so I got them.” Loki smirked as he handed back the credit card, noting the alliteration of Peter Parker as he turned over the screen for him to sign. “Doesn’t mean I can’t hate them on a moral level. You’re putting holes in your body that aren’t meant to be there.”
Peter huffed, giving up. “I’m just saying, it’s pretty much the same as what you do. Anyway, your designs are beautiful.” He waved at MJ and Ned, who started to gather their stuff.
“You might just have to come back and get one.” He winked at Peter and was met with rolled eyes, but a faint blush dusted his cheeks. Loki counted that as an absolute win.
The third time he came in, he was alone. Loki had been jittery at work for weeks, and as much as he wished he could blame it on the caffeine, it was really due to his want, no, his need to see Peter again. There was something about him that drew Loki to him, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The only way to figure it out was to spend more time with him, and as desperate as he was, Loki couldn’t initiate contact. So he waited.
And it wasn’t all for naught, because on an uncharacteristically cool August afternoon, Peter strolled into the shop.
“I want a tattoo.” He said as soon as he reached the desk where Loki sat. “And I want one of yours.” He started to go through the binder of Loki’s art on the desk, but looked up when Loki rested a hand on his, stopping its movement.
“I don’t do copy tattoos, even of my own art.” He said, drawing his hand away as he grabbed a sketchbook from behind the desk. “Come into the back, and I’ll see if anything comes to me.” Peter followed him to the back of the shop and into a studio, taking a seat across as Loki stretched out on the couch.
And they stayed like that for over an hour, Peter talking and Loki sketching. He learned about Peter’s friends, and his love for them was evident in the fondness in his voice. He learned that he was a junior at Columbia, studying biochemical engineering, and that he loved his internship at Stark Industries and the work he got to do there more than anything in the world. He learned, through the silences, that Peter didn’t talk about his family, or any time in his life before he was fourteen. He learned more about the sadness in Peter that he had seen in their first meeting, but not the cause of it. He learned Peter.
And he sketched. He sketched the boy with the brown eyes, gesturing wildly as he spoke. He sketched soft brown hair and angled features, a warmth radiating off of him. He sketched sad eyes that were full of light and life, despite the pain that he could see hidden deep within. He sketched prototype designs, webs of light lines snaking up the side of his ribs. He sketched long after Peter had left the parlor, long after Thor had come in to check that he was still alive, long after their last customer had left. He sketched until his hand hurt and his eyelids sagged, behind them images of brown eyes and a beautiful boy.
Fuck. Loki was falling for Peter Parker.
The fourth time he saw Peter, something was off. Loki had had a long day at work, you would not believe the shit bachelorette parties come up with, and decided to walk home in the clear summer night.
It was on the edge of a bridge that he saw Peter, hunched over with a bottle of cheap vodka balanced next to him and legs swinging over the edge. The life that normally rolled off of him in waves was gone, and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen from tears.
He barely spared Loki a glance as he sat down next to him, instead taking another swig from the bottle and wiping his eyes.
“Hey,” Peter said, but it was something closer to a croak, his voice cracked in a million places.
“Hey,” Loki replied, studying his profile. He was beautiful in his pain, and Loki couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden under the smile that he wore every day. He reached for the bottle, taking a swig and setting it down on his other side. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
And they sat there, passing the vodka back and forth until it was empty and drinking in each other’s presence. The silence should have been uncomfortable but wasn’t, with cool night air filtering through the sounds of cars passing by and the two boys swinging their legs in a steady rhythm, watching the water underneath.
“My mother died when I was sixteen.” Loki didn’t know why he said it, or the words that spilled out of him afterward. “She was kind and beautiful. And after her death, well, my father turned to drink and took his anger about her death out on his most useless child. You know how the story goes.” Peter looked over at him, meeting his eyes briefly and then turning back to the river.
“Tonight is the eighth anniversary of my uncle’s death.” Ah, so this is why he doesn’t talk about his family. “He was the only father I really knew. Like, my parents both died when I was three, so I didn’t really know them. He gave me a home, raised me as his own, and then I–” He cut himself off with a choked sob and Loki found himself with an arm around his shoulders, fingers carding through hair just as soft as it looked. “I wasn’t there, and it’s my fault he’s dead. Death follows me everywhere, it’s like I’m cursed or something. Like someone came and said ‘everyone you love will die’. And Aunt May said that’s not true, but still, I don’t know why I can’t manage to keep anyone around, I don’t know why it’s so hard to love anyone, I don’t know why I’m cursed to hurt everyone I do end up loving.”
And they sat there, Peter sobbing silently into Loki’s shoulder until there were no tears left. Loki offered a hand and they walked back to his apartment, Peter’s eyes still red and his nose leaking. He unlocked the door and made some stupid joke and finally, Peter cracked a half-smile. There was a glass of water and a blanket and some pillows, and a few laughs escaped both of them. Loki fell asleep to thoughts of brown eyes, but awoke to an empty apartment that felt even lonelier without Peter.
The fifth time Loki saw him, he was expecting it. Mostly due to the fact that it was a scheduled appointment, but the itch to begin the tattoo was one that desperately needed to be scratched, and he had to force himself not to run over as soon as Peter walked into the parlor.
“Hey, Petey,” His nose scrunched up at the nickname, and Loki allowed himself a smirk. “If you want to head into the back, I have to grab a couple more things, but then we can get started.”
“Cool cool cool,” Peter replied, walking over to the door to the backroom, but Loki didn’t miss the glance he gave him, eyes raking up and down his body. Loki had maybe dressed up a little more than usual, sure him. The ACDC cropped tank that he had cut off himself might be considered a bit much, but what was he supposed to do when the cutest guy on the fucking planet was getting a tattoo from him?
Grabbing the necessary paperwork and his sketchbook, Loki followed Peter into the back of the parlor. He chuckled to himself as he looked at the array of snacks and electrolyte replenishing drinks, setting down his sketchbook and starting to prep for the first session.
“You did your research,” Peter glanced up at him from his phone as Loki gestured to his seemingly endless supply of sugar.
“Uh, yeah,” He blushed, slightly stumbling over his words as Loki methodically checked that all of his inks and needles were all where they were supposed to be. “I have a really fast metabolism, and since Thor said on the phone that this could go upwards of five hours and the internet said to bring snacks because apparently the pain can make you exhausted? I wasn’t sure and MJ always says that I eat too much sugar so I decided to just load up. I’m not entirely sure why I’m saying all this, you’re a tattoo artist you obviously know–” Peter cut himself off with a gasp and Loki glanced up to see him staring at the sketchbook page, fingers ghosting over the design.
“You drew this?” He asked, brown eyes blown wide with wonder. Loki nodded, wasn’t that the whole point of the fact that he never repeated a tattoo? “It’s...beautiful.”
The drawing in question was a web that would stretch from Peter’s left hip to his shoulder, constructed entirely of small dots. The left side of the web was made of molecular structure-type hexagons, filling out the rest of a sprawling series of lines that connected and darted away from each other. Loki had tried to capture the way that Peter caught everyone he met in his life, and how they were bundled up in the safeness of his love. The way that he pulled strangers toward him, Loki included, trapping them in the web of his kind eyes and kinder soul, unable to turn away.
“Thank you. Now, take off your shirt.” Loki barely looked up to see Peter’s face turn to a shade not so vaguely resembling beetroot, his eyes widening in complete shock. From his seat Loki smirked up at him, huffing out a soft laugh. “I’m not trying to fuck you,” which was only partially a lie, “Just show you the tattoo placement.” Peter flushed even deeper, which Loki had not previously thought possible, and turned around to strip his shirt off and oh. Peter was hot. Loki had already known this in theory, but seeing the living proof that the boy he was tattooing was, in fact, a sculpted work of art made something inside him stir.
The moment was broken Peter turned back to him, a self-conscious half smile decorating his features. Loki was a damn good artist, and no level of attraction would stop him from doing his job, even if it made it a hell of a lot harder.
It was during their third break that Brunnhilde came in, throwing a knowing look at Loki after a glance at the still shirtless Peter. “How are you doing? I heard you’re a virgin.” Peter went red again and almost spat out his drink before Loki leveled his gaze and mouthed “tattoo virgin”.
He recovered, barely, and took another long sip of his Powerade. “Yeah, it’s my first time being poked thousands of times with tiny needles.” He gave Loki a pointed look but was only given a shrug in response. “Speaking of, how did you decide to become a piercing artist?”
Brunnhilde raised an eyebrow and leaned further against a countertop. “It was the only legal profession where I get paid to stab people.”
Peter smiled and took another swig of unnaturally blue liquid. “That’s fair. There’s not enough stabbing in chemical engineering.”
Brunnhilde stole a piece of beef jerky as she flashed Peter a smirk and Loki a glance that seemed to say “I like this one”. And, in the interest of full disclosure, Loki did too.
The sixth time he saw Peter, Loki was pissed off. Not at him, but at the world in general. At the guy who had cussed him out for seven straight minutes for not wanting to tattoo his dick. At the cancellation for a session that would have boosted his savings enough for an apartment that wasn’t some two-foot shithole. At the world for making it rain on a shitty day like this.
There was a commotion at the door to the parlor and Loki looked up to see a drenched to the bone Peter Parker, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes dripping onto the floor. He couldn’t help but smile as he approached the boy, who was already stammering out his explanation to Thor, who handed him a towel.
“And I was already only five blocks away, so I figured it would be better to just sprint, but then it just started raining harder but I was already past the point of no return…” He trailed off as he met Loki’s eyes, guilty smile only widening. “So now I’ve shown up to my tattoo session sopping wet.”
“Good news is, you don’t need your shirt.” Peter flushed and dropped his gaze, and, quite honestly, Loki would make it his life’s work to create that look on his face. “And I’m pretty sure Thor has a pair of his boyfriend’s sweatpants around here somewhere.” Thor nodded and disappeared into the back to get them. “Come on, there are some more towels in here, and you need to dry off.” Loki walked toward the staff lounge, listening to the soft thwap of Peter’s wet steps as he followed. He grabbed a few towels and turned to Peter, who at some point in the last thirty seconds had stripped off his shirt, water still dripping off of his bare torso. Loki couldn’t help the way that his eyes moved up and down, where bare skin turned to fabric clinging tightly to strong thighs and sculpted calves. His eyes met Peter’s as he began to dry himself off, his breath ghosting over Loki’s neck as his lips parted, hand coming up to rest at Loki’s collarbone.
“Loki, I have the pants you wanted.” As Thor strolled into the lounge Loki swiftly removed himself from Peter at all points. “Though I’m not quite sure if they’ll fit Peter here, he is quite small,” an undignified noise jumped out of Peter and Loki chuckled, “But here you go.” He passed the sweats to Peter, who watched Loki as he followed Thor from the room.
“I can see why you like him,” Thor began typing at the computer, speaking absentmindedly. “He’s kind as well as pretty.”
Loki, deciding not to dignify that with a response, hit him with a wet towel. Peter emerged from the staff lounge in the Princeton sweats, his bag of treats hanging from one hand and a towel draped around his shoulders in a way that Loki found cuter than he would ever admit.
“Come on, we should get started,” He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the back room, and Peter fell into step beside him. “You’ve been keeping it clean, I presume?” Peter nodded, shifting his hip as he sat down to show Loki his half-done tattoo, already healing nicely. “Good. Let me prep, and, hopefully, I can get you finished today.”
He was expecting the small smile Peter gave him in response and the way that he shifted into position. He was not, however, expecting the words that soon came tumbling out of him as he laid there.
“How did you become a tattoo artist?” Loki felt his eyes widen in shock, but quickly composed himself. “I know you have to apprentice or whatever, but by my judgment, you’re still pretty young to be a licensed professional.”
“I apprenticed here starting when I was seventeen, right after I graduated.” Loki finished his set up, scooting his chair over to where Peter was, and hearing the soft “damn” that the boy emitted. “My sister Hela owns this place, taught me everything I know.”
“I thought you said you were the best?” Peter scrunched his nose as Loki made contact with his skin.
“I am. She went to college and is now finishing her business degree, so is no longer practicing.” Peter nodded, obviously waiting for the rest of the story. “But don’t think because I apprenticed under my sister they weren’t the most hellish two years of my life. The couch in the back room was my bed, there were times when I would reside here for up to a week, almost literally dead on my feet.”
“Wow.” Peter turned his head in a way that could not have been comfortable to meet Loki’s gaze. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve pulled my fair share of all nighters, but I don’t think I’ve been that level of overworked.”
“Oh, so it’s easy to become a renowned scientist?” Peter turned his head back, but Loki caught a glimpse of an eye roll as he did.
“Oh, shut up.” Make me, Loki wanted to scream, but instead, he zeroed his gaze back in on the tattoo. “There was this one time, after finals week, where Ned and I were cleaning out the lab, and I was sitting down to take a break, and before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep on a bag of sodium azide that nearly burst and could’ve, y’know, ended my life.”
“Wow, sounds like a good time.”
“Yeah, Ned woke me up and we had a good laugh until our supervisor came in and made us do actual work.” He wrinkled his nose and Loki huffed out a laugh. “I just realized that my weird ass lab stories probably aren’t that interesting to you.”
“Actually, I quite enjoyed you telling me of a time you made a fool of yourself.” Loki quirked up an eyebrow as Peter vaguely swept an arm around towards him in an attempt to smack his shoulder. “Regale me with more tales, Dr. Parker. It’ll also help with the pain.”
“Ok, but only if you give me more apprenticeship hell stories.” He could practically hear the wide smile on Peter’s face.
“Deal. But you have to start.”
And he did. There was the one with the magnesium and almost getting blinded, the one with the lab fire back in high school, the one when a guy in Peter’s lab group set his pants on fire. On Loki’s end, there was the first time someone passed out while he was tattooing them, the first time he ever did a piercing and the girl freaked out over the blood and then threatened to sue him, and the first time he ever tattooed one of his original designs and he just knew that he could never stop.
They traded stories for hours, and if Loki was completely honest with himself, he could have continued on for days. The web of Peter’s tattoo stretched across the side of this body, small dots and lines connecting to form the interconnected map of the way that he pulled people in.
It wasn’t until the last stroke had been finished that Loki looked at the clock. He’d been tattooing for over six hours, but he hadn’t noticed the hand cramp he’d slowly developed or the way that Peter’s eyelids had slowly begun to droop. He seemed to snap to alertness, though, as the buzzing of the iron stopped.
“It’s done?” He smiled sleepily, but to be fair, it was almost 11:00.
“It’s done.” Loki offered a small smile back, and Peter took his offered hand and stood up, craning his neck to try to see his inked side. In response, Loki grabbed his hand once again and led him to the full length mirror in the corner of the studio.
“Wow.” He caught Peter’s eye as he uttered the small word, his eyes blown in what looked to be amazement. “This is incredible.”
“Thank you.” They were a mere inch apart, and Loki could feel the heat radiating from every inch of Peter. The moment was frozen in time as the two boys stood there, Loki half a step behind, their fingertips barely brushing together. It would be so easy to grab the waistband of his sweats, to spin him around and push him against the mirror, to–
“I think I need to sit down.” Loki’s gaze snapped up to meet Peter’s face, which had suddenly gone deathly pale.
“Yes, you definitely do.” Swinging an arm around his waist, Loki guided the boy back to his seat on the tattoo chair. He grabbed a can of cherry cola off a side table, cracking it open and handing it to Peter, who promptly chugged the whole thing. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just got all hot and the air felt to thick. Sugar definitely helped.” He swiped the back of his hand to his mouth, picking up a second can.
“Well, you being hot is a pretty common occurrence.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Loki wanted to scream, but to be quite honest, the look on Peter’s face was worth it. His hand had frozen in place, can halfway to a mouth that was now hanging open on a face quickly coloring a deep scarlet.
“You can’t– you can’t just say stuff like that,” Peter stumbled over his words, setting down the unopened can.
“And why’s that?” Loki was fighting a losing battle to keep his voice level as he took a step towards Peter.
“Because,” He trailed off, eyes widening as they swept over Loki’s form standing over him. “Because you’re the insanely hot and super duper cool tattoo artist and I’m just some kid from Queens who came back here literally so you could stab me repeatedly because I wanted to spend time with you, and now you’re here, standing over me and giving me that stupid smirk that makes my insides turn all mushy and I can feel my face turning redder by the second.”
Loki just felt his smirk widen as he placed a hand on the seatback, brushing his fingers over the bare skin of his shoulder. “You’re cute when you're flustered.”
Peter hid his face in his hands, blushing impossibly harder. “Shut up.”
Loki leaned in so that his breath mingled with Peter’s, his voice coming out in barely more than a growl. “Make me.”
Their lips crashed together, and Peter tasted like cherry cola and sour candy, sweet and deep and altogether him. Loki ran his hands through silky brown hair and found himself swinging a leg over Peter, trapping him in and capturing his lips again. Their hands wandered, exploring every inch of each other as they kissed, full of the desperate hunger and wanting of the last weeks. Loki let his lips wander, pressing against Peter’s jaw and down until he bit down where the strong curve of his shoulder met his neck, eliciting a moan from Peter as his back arched. Hands and lips and bodies intertwined, and it was like coming up for fresh air after drowning. That was until Peter pushed him away, eyebrows knitted together.
“Hey.” Peter traced a hand softly over Loki’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”
“Fuck.” He could feel his own voice cracking on the single syllable, and he turned his eyes away.
“Hey. Look at me.” Those damn brown eyes. “You’re incredible, and I would love to take you out. But I want us to be, well, something.” His eyes flicked to the side for a second, but he looked back at Loki, face full of determination. “I don’t just want to hook up. I like you, Loki Laufeyson, and I want to take this further, but not yet.”
Loki leaned forward until their foreheads rested against each other and he could feel Peter’s soft breath blending with his own. “I like you too, Peter Parker.”