When Clint woke from his hypnotic state, the man who put him there standing in front of him, his first action was to capture Loki by the throat, grinding his teeth. He set his jaw to keep his lip from wobbling, applying more pressure from his palm on Loki's neck. "Answer me, dammit!" He seethed as tears threatened to fall, "Why'd you do it? Why me of all people to have under your hold?" At Loki's silence, Clint forced him back harder against the wall, the impact of Loki's head against it pounding in his ears. With a broken, dry sob, Clint repeated himself, "Why?"
"Because," came Loki's response, his voice raspy under the pressure of Clint's tightening grip, "you were the only one I trusted to be at my side."
Clint shook his head slowly, as if transfixed. He dropped his hand from around Loki's throat to around his shoulders in a swift move. "You're a fuckin' prick, know that?" Clint held Loki tight to his chest, his face buried in the nape of the god's neck, "A big fuckin' prick."
"So I've been told." The reply was distant, cold, lacking the gentle touch it had once had, but it was here. Loki was here. He was tangible, more than just a dream, an aching longing in the middle of the night, he was here and Clint couldn't figure out whether he wanted to strangle him or bring him to bed to hold.
The latter one, eventually. Clint was exhausted and there would be plenty of time to scream at Loki later when he was trying to figure out how in the hell to explain to the rest of the Avengers that hey! I managed to track down and defeat the enemy and I don't even have a scratch! Yeah, that could definitely wait.
For now, Clint took Loki by the hand and led him to his bed upstairs.
"It's been some time, hasn't it?" Loki must've cleared his throat; he sounded much better now. "Last time you brought me here, we were clutching onto each other for dear life, scratching, caressing, kissing." A little smirk appeared on the god's tired face, "If I recall, you'd done the whole choking bit then, too, albeit it was coupled with some more fun activities."
"Jesus, Loki." Clint ran a hand over his face, "You need some sleep before I kill ya, I swear." As much as he tried to put a bit of humour to his voice, he couldn't summon it well. "I think the bags under your eyes have bags."
"Rude."
"It's true, asshole, and it's concernin' as all hell." Once Clint convinced Loki to sit on the bed, he made his way to a spot beside him, "I mean, Jesus, do ya never sleep anymore? Yknow, for a god who calls himself fashionable, y'aint takin' care of yourself all that much."
"Clint..."
Clint had really been started now. He continued, "No, seriously, Loki, I might actually look a little less shitty next to you right now. We need to get ya back to the times where I was a dumpster pile compared to you."
Loki's mouth went dry, "We?"
Clint felt those tears pricking at his eyes again, and he promptly wiped them away roughly with the back of his hand, "Yeah, yeah, we." He set his hand on Loki's cheek, "We're doin' this together, I guess. Like it or not."
Loki allowed himself to smile, leaning into the calloused hand on his cheek, "I think I'm okay with that, my hawk."
Clint almost flinched at the petname, recovering just in time to speak again. "Yeah, yeah, now I'm gonna be back in a sex-" he tripped over his words, then corrected himself, "sec."
Loki had that old, little twinkle in his eyes again, "Sex, hm?"
The archer groaned, "C'mon, Lokes, let one slide, would ya?" He let himself relax back onto the bed. Making up the couch for himself could wait, he supposed. Clint felt Loki's hand over his, his pointer finger running a few smooth circles over Clint's palm. He stilled, spying Loki from the corner of his eyes. "Whatcha doin' there, Elsa?"
Loki scrunched up his nose in a way that was oddly comical, but he didn't pull away just yet. He spoke in a quiet volume, "Do you think it's forgivable? What I've done."
With his free hand, Clint tussled his hair, thinking for a moment before he nodded, "I think everythin' can be forgave-"
"Forgiven."
"Oh, leave me alone. I dropped outta school. Forgiven." He corrected himself. "Anyway, uh, I was sayin' that everyone can be forgiven if they put effort in, man." He shrugged, "I mean, hell, you were in my head, so you know all the shit I've done 'nd look at me now."
"Sitting in bed, holding a criminal's hand," Loki replied with a trace of bitterness.
Clint snorted, "I meant bein' an Avenger, but hey this isn't all that bad. I mean, this is...this is kinda nice still, ain't it? Bein' this close."
Loki leaned in just a hair, which from the way they had been sitting before, brought their lips all too close together, "Some would argue that being this close to me is a fate far worse than death."
Clint's gaze dropped, focusing on their hands, which weren't really holding each other, more like just sorta stacked. Like pancakes. Damn, that reminded him; he was hungry. Eh, food could wait. What was he sayin'? Yeah, yeah, Loki's hand over his. Right. He slowly locked their fingers, "There's probably truth to that, Lokes," he smiled at the flush the nickname brought to Loki's cheeks, "Hey, look, pink suits you. Makes your face have a bit 'o colour. Kinda nice."
"You've lost the forest for the trees, my hawk."
Clint shook his head, "Right, anyway, what was I sayin'. Uhhh, okay, so yeah, there's truth to it probably, but hey, I'm not dead yet, am I? I know you could kill me in a snap with all of your wizard powers-" Loki rolled his eyes; Clint laughed, "-but you haven't. And that says somethin' whether you like it or not, Loki."
There was a few solid beats of silence, and almost Clint opened his mouth to speak again, only to be cut off by the light pressure of Loki's lips against his. His eyes shut from impulse, and he applied a bit more pressure to the kiss. They moved slowly, if they did move at all. Fine by Clint. This alone caused his breath to hitch, the old ticker in his chest to beat rapidly, as if on steroids. "Loki..."
"Yes, my hawk?" The words were murmured against his lips between soft touches. The hand that wasn't holding his, Loki had on his waist just under the hoodie Clint wore.
"We can't do this forever, man. Much as I'd like to." Clint pulled away just enough that Loki could see the expression he wore; something tender, sad, concerned, but also wise. Clint knew that if they continued this game, there would never be a winner.
Loki slid his hand down to rest on Clint's thigh, "I know you're right, and I know I must leave you eventually. Whether it be to some ugly prison on Asgard, or banished to a desolate realm to spend my next 4000 years alone and self-loathing. I know this, and for this, I am prepared, but for now, I beg of thee, mine hawk, give me a bit of time with you."
Clint felt the hard lump in his throat swell up until he was absolutely drowning in it. He suddenly felt all too real, as if aware of how each muscle in his limbs contracted as he moved but an inch. "Lokes, this is..." he shook his head, "Goddammit, I'm so pissed because I actually like you, you fucknut. And we coulda just been happy if you hadn't taken that stupid Tesseract." He set his hands on Loki's chest, searching for the right words to say, "Fuck, fuck, /fuck/, Loki."
He felt so stupidly helpless, slumped against a god's chest like this. What the hell, man. Clint couldn't find the right words, the right movements, the right breaths. It stung like the blades in his ears had, like dropping out of school had, like being mind controlled had...
Next thing he knew, he was on his back, the hand that had been on his hip now gently raking through his hair, lips that had been on his now on his cheeks, kissing away tears that had apparently fallen.
Loki's body was over his, his touches gentle, making Clint keen.
"Clint," a kiss to his cheek, "all of this," to his lips, "all of this hel that's going on," a long, biting kiss to his throat, "it's not going to last forever." His breath was hot against Clint's neck, his limbs tangled with Clint's, "I'm sorry that I did this to you." The words were desperately quiet, and Clint had to strain to hear, piecing together little bits of sound.
His heart ached, and he shook his head slowly, unable to get words to work for him. Instead, Clint just gave Loki a comforting smile, cupping his cheeks to bring him down closer to him. He rested his forehead against Loki's, their noses almost touching, "Hey, it's gonna be okay." He tried to keep his breathing slow to make his heart stop racing, "You're right. This ain't gonna last forever, Lokes. It's gonna get a lot better 'cause I'm gonna defend you to make sure you end up somewhere safe."
Loki dropped his head down to bury his face in Clint's shoulder, "I don't know how much that'll help, Clinton."
With the movement, Clint had to move his hands from his cheeks to Loki's back, "We're going to get this figured out. Yeah, I can't just...just get you off the hook cause I mean, yeah, you're guilty and no way is the government gonna let you free, but you're not going to end up banished somewhere or in a shithole of a prison. You're gonna...gonna get books and decent food, and I'm gonna try to visit you, okay?"
Loki nodded slowly as he spoke, turning on his side so that he could look up at Clint, drinking in the soft, hurt expression the archer held. He said, "They're not going to let you see me without questioning you heavily. Why would the one taken over, forced to serve this lowly god, want to see him? Well, ha, I suppose you could always make the excuse that you want to see me suffering. That you want to...to get your revenge on me. I'm sure Odin would allow that."
"Is your dad really that bad?" Clint asked in a way that said Loki didn't have to answer if he didn't want to.
Loki set his jaw, "Odin is not my father. He is nothing to me but the man who picked me up off the street when Laufey threw me away to die." A pause, "But...yes, Odin never cared for me as he did Thor. I understand that. Anyone that's spent a minute with the three of us can see that, but that's not the point."
"I'm sorry, Loki, I really am." After he got a little nod of dismissal from Loki, Clint gave his arm a soft squeeze, "Let me up. I'm going to get changed." Clint pushed himself out of bed to get some loose, fleece bottoms. After going out to the bathroom to change, he came back to sit at the edge of the bed.
He pressed a kiss to Loki's temple, "You should get some sleep, you know. It's good for you."
"You're one to talk."
"Hey, I sleep. I'm the asshole that just never gets out of bed." Clint retorted with a grin. He said with a more gentle tone, "Sleep. Tomorrow mornin' I gotta go to back to HQ and explain where the fuck I've been and how the fuck I'm myself again."
"Right." Loki whispered. Then, "Take off your binder before you go to bed, would you." It was more of a caring demand than a question.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I try to remember, man."
"Good." Was Loki's only reply before he turned over, apparently forcing himself to sleep before Clint could badger him more.
Clint turned to go back downstairs, repressing his groan when he remembered that he had to make the couch for bed before he could sleep. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder to Loki, a weary smile crossing his features. "It'll be okay, Clint, it'll be okay."
It was better to tell himself this. Better to convince himself that Loki would be okay before he was ripped from him forever.