Flu
Aunt May was on a month long holiday with some old college friends and Peter was sort of living with Mr. Stark (it's been long enough, kid, you can call me Tony, he would say, but old habits die hard) and he was enjoying himself a lot.
Maybe if it had been just the two of them it would have been a bit awkward, but there was also Miss Potts most of the time around, who was a great coversationalist, and there was also quite often Mr Rhodes, an occasional Guardian of the Galaxy passing through and almost always Loki.
If Mr. Stark was a sort of dad for him (although nobody wanted to admit it, and they'd be caught dead before saying it in so many words), Loki was something like his favourtie uncle (which would make him and Mr Stark brothers and that would be an awesomely screwed up family), he wasn't probably the best role model and he wasn't the nicest guy, but he was interesting. All the lines that normal people had, simply didn't apply to Loki. It was awesome.
He always had an opinion on things, always had a way out of even the worst situations, and he enjoyed teaching Peter little tricks and not-quite-lies that were very useful. And he loved learning all these things, and hearing stories about Asgard (Thor was always so busy, but Loki enjoyed staying at home, being the centre of attention) and he had an astounding amount of sarcastic comebacks that never seemed to run out.
But he wasn't somebody that you went to when you were sad, or sick. Loki seemed to be many things (mischievous, smart, ambivalent...) but caring was not one of these things. Still, the facts were these: Peter had a shitty flu with fever, a horrible cough, some pain in his chest and all snot... He went to the living room to see if there was somebody who would take pity on him and give him a painkiller or something.
But Mr Stark and Lady Potts were out and none of the Guardians were staying with them in that moment , which meant that it was just him and Loki. The god was looking at some undefined point in the horizon while looking great all dressed in black. He was nursing a green cocktail in ones of his hands and his hair looked wet as it fell on his shoulders. He looked like a movie star while Peter's face was all red and puffy and terrible and he was wearing pyjamas with little boats in them (it was the comfiest thing he had, okay?)
Peter coughed and Loki finally noticed him.
“Ah, hello.”
Peter tried to smile, to it came out as more of a grimace, so he just waved.
“It would seem that you are feeling rather poorly, yes?”
Loki had such great English, on top of everything else. It wasn't fair.
“Yeah, I got the flu.”
“Could I offer my assistance?”
Peter was suspicious. Normally, when Loki did something it was for his own benefit, or because he had some hidden agenda. But what could he possibly gain by helping him that day? There was no one else around, so he wasn't doing it for appaluse either.
“Why?”
“To showcase some of my extraordinary healing skills, of course.”
That kind of sounded like him.
“Ok. But no magic!”
His fear of getting eggs in his brain had decreased, but there was still some fear there that was never gone. And Loki had used mind control magic in the past, and he didn't want second guess himself thinking somebody else was making magically making him do whatever.
“As you wish. Let us go to your quarters, then.
Uh-oh.
Peter's “quarters” were an absolute mess, food lying around, books and papers everywhere, clothes thrown every which way... But Loki didn't comment on that, didn't even made one of those disapproving gestures other adults were so fond of.
“Have the bed sheets been changed recently?”
Peter shrugged.
“You don't mind magic for this, do you?”
“No, sure, do it.”
And so in a blink of an eye the bedsheets were changed, the air smelled fresher and there were more supplies. Peter uttered a small, breathless wow, sneezed four times and apologized.
“No need. Lie down, will you?”
Peter did lie down in his newly made bed, with new pale green sheets and smelling of the air from the top of a mountain. His nose his still clogged (it has been for so long) but the smell is stronger. It gets into you. Breathing when lying down is complicated and is throat still hurts. Having the flu was the absolute worst and Peter sure hoped Loki will be able to help him.
And Loki seemed to know what he was doing, which was a relief. He instructed Peter to open his pyjama top and put some salve made of herbs and who knew what else on his chest. He spread it slowly, humming something like a song. It was peaceful, and nice and the gentle repetitive movements were making Peter doze off.
When he was already half asleep, he was helped up and there was a drink in his lips that tasted like mint and honey and eucalyptus and it improved his breathing nearly instantly. He fell asleep to Loki's sing song rhythm, and slept nearly eleven hours.
When he woke up, there was small silent fan, clearing the air. Although he still felt a weight in his chest and he was still sneezing, he felt much better. There were two unknown mysterious blankets on top of his bed, made from the softest fabric he had ever felt.
There was an amazing breakfast prepared for him, too, with a lot of orange juice and grapes and good things. Peter had something to eat and then sat on the sofa, covered completely in one of those supersoft blankets.
Loki came back some hours later, told him that Mr. Stark was held back with the Lady Potts at some stand down, saving the city or some other nonsense, and that it would be just them for a couple of days. Peter didn't mind.
They spent most of the day on the couch, watched some Agatha Christie murder mysteries on TV and Peter fell asleep with his head on Loki's legs. He felt a bit embarrassed but then saw that Loki was asleep too, and smiled. He'd never seen the guy sleeping, and it was... nice.
By the end of the second day Peter's was absolutely gone, and he felt ready for the world again. He thanked Loki for his services about one million times, got some celebratory selfies with guy (#godtricksterandbesthealerever this guy is the TOP) and told everyone how he'd got over the flu in a couple of days thanks to a god.
Loki should have been happy about the whole thing.
But something.... was wrong.
Peter didn't see much of Loki for the next day, and when he did he was always leaving. And Peter sought him out, because he wanted to do something to thank the guy and because he felt that guy already spent too much time alone, but it was difficult.
He managed to track him down some days later, when Loki was brooding in the balcony.
“Hey, man, I've been looking for you, I...”
And then he noticed. Loki's eyes were red and puffy, he had a handkerchief with him and his breathing sounded wheezy.
“Dude, did I get you sick?”
Loki half smiled.
“Do not concern yourself. It's nothing I can't handle.”
“Yeah, I'm sure, but I feel like I owe you, man, after what you did for me. I mean, you missed a hell of a fight to stay with poor sickly me, I'd like to return the favor.”
“No need.” Loki said, and started leaving.
“Yes need! No, man, stop! Are you mad at me for getting you sick?”
Loki coughed and looked back with bright bloodshot eyes.
“Of course not.”
Loki sneezed and and his head was pounding. This was most undignified.
“Then why are you leaving? Are you avoiding us? You should be resting, like I was. I don't.. I don't get it.”
Loki looked over the balcony, to the horizon.
“You are the one of the few people left who still... admire me. I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted you to look at me and feel awe.”
That was... unexpected. But Peter understood, it was difficult, among all these incredible people with their incredible looks and incredible abilities to find some... encouragement. And Loki already had less because of his past, and because he was the brother of Thor, who was always the best looking most muscly and grave voiced person no matter where he went... Loki had wanted to preserve the wow effect he had. It was understabable, but unecessary.
“You think I admire you less because you got sick? Dude, this is like... It's like if you took a bullet for me or something, but this is better, because there's no glory or anything, no Valhalla, you risked you health to help out somebody who wasn't even dying, like... If anything, I admire you more!”
Loki coughed, and his eyes softened.
“Thank you, child. It really does mean a lot.”
Peter grinned.
“Now, let's get you out of here, before you catch you death. I'mma make a killer orange juice and we are going to watch so much good stuff. Where do you keep those awesome blankets? Because I am sure....”
Loki just heard him absent mindedly, feeling, despite his physical discomforts, truly blessed.
Thank you for being such a good friend, child.
It was enough to melt his ancient broken and frozen heart.