for halfassed

[dreamsofpoison]

Just how and why Loki was back on Earth was a mystery. There had been no communication from Thor any Asgardian representatives. It wasn't obvious that Loki was back, in fact, his presence could have gone unnoticed if not for, well, mischief.

He'd somehow taken something belonging to one Clint Barton. Something very dear to him. His bow. Said bow now sat on a mantel above the fireplace in his current residence. It was a stone and log cabin. Lodge would be a more appropriate description. Logs make up A frame structures to support the roof. They also provide an excellent place to suspend someone from. Which inevitably happened when Barton followed the little trail of bread crumbs to find his bow and ultimately, Loki.

He's suspended near the fireplace, which is lit. Turned so he can see his bow sitting there on the mantel. He's hung high enough his toes barely brush the ground and apparently Loki took great care in securing his wrists in a specific type of cuff. The kind that would ensure he could keep him there for quite some time without much damage to his hands or wrists. He was stripped of his weapons and all his clothes save for his pants. Hence why he choose the beam close to the fire. It was the dead of winter outside.

As for Loki himself, he stood by the window, watching the snow fall and waiting for the subtle signs his captive has awoken. He's far removed from the armor and leather of before. Instead he's in simple mortal clothes but they still had a certain Loki-esque flair to them.

Comments

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki's eyes narrow and at the mention of Thor he makes a dismissive sound. Thor is nothing to him -- just an annoying obstacle that goes on about sentiment. An obstacle he must prove himself better than.

"And you, Barton?" he asks back in biting tone, "There's nothing in your world but your mission. Your next target." He pushes himself up from the mattress.

[halfassed]

"You're wrong."

His voice is tight. He closes his eyes, thinks of Coulson, Fury, Nat.

"There's nothing in the world for me but my boss."

Meaning that, for a time, Loki was everything to him. Everything. Beyond the sceptre, beyond the tesseract. He had cared.

[dreamsofpoison]

"Am I?"

Loki stalks over to the fire place. After a second's thought, he laughs. "Oh, yes. That's what truly angers you, isn't it? Not my crimes against this world. It's what I did to you."

[halfassed]

It's on his lips to deny it, but then he thinks -- why? Why should he? He knows it's about revenge for him. When he wants someone dead, it's about emotion. Always. When he kills for his boss, it isn't.

"Yeah," he says, finally, sitting up. "For me, it's personal." And what fucks Clint up so much is that for Loki it's just another day at work. He waltzes in and ruins Clint's life, not a care in the world.

[dreamsofpoison]

That just gets another laugh out of him. Something about this really is funny for him.

"And why do you think I lured you here? Of all the people I could turn myself into. I could have simply walked into any major city to be on SHIELD's radar," he says, gesturing with his hands as he does. He paces in front of the fireplace a moment. "Why this place? Why you?"

[halfassed]

"Because you already have your hooks into me. I'm easier to manipulate."

A mix of glum and angry.

[dreamsofpoison]

"You are far from easy," he says a bitter tone to his voice, leaning against the side of the fireplace. "You have done very little I have asked. That which you have done..." he trails off, it's hard to explain the blow job with that logic but one thing he wanted verses a growing list of things not going as planned. There is some truth in what he says of course but knowing him there is no doubt a mix of lies in there.

"No, it is you," he says sharply, dangerously, "because you are mine."

[halfassed]

And that -- that jolts him right to his core. From angry to breathless in 2.2 seconds.

Re-evaluate.

Not torment, but possessiveness.

God damn it. God damn it, Clint should not be falling for this, he shouldn't want this so badly. He shouldn't be shaking with how much he wants it.

[dreamsofpoison]

Ah, there's his opening. He lets a faint smile cross his lips. He pushes off from the fireplace and slowly moves back to the mattress. It looks more like he's circling prey than simply returning.

"Difficult as you are," he says in a slow measured tone, "You are still mine. Even as I am led away in chains--" he eases closer, "--I want you to know, in your heart--" he presses to fingers to Clint's chest, "--that you are mine."

[halfassed]

He doesn't mind that, weirdly enough. He knows the two of them are trapped here. He's accepted that. And he knows his own strength relative to Loki. There's no reason to be afraid.

And still, his heartbeat jumps when Loki touches him.

"You've marked me up." His voice is a little more hoarse than he'd like. Loki has marked him up -- Loki has claimed him, a dozen ways.

[dreamsofpoison]

Well, Loki does a good job of carrying himself like he still has all his various powers. He presses his fingers a little harder into his chest.

"I have," he admits. "I may be unable to control your every move but that changes nothing."

[halfassed]

"You're like a little kid," Clint says, closing his eyes, gritting his teeth. "You think you want a doll, but when the doll doesn't talk back, you break it. You don't want to control my every move."

He shifts back, away from Loki's touch. "You couldn't handle a puppet."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki's eyes narrow. He scoffs at the comparison to a child. "So, what does that make you?"

[halfassed]

He gives Loki a flat stare.

"Really?" he asks. "I gotta draw this one out for you?" Roll of his eyes. "Fine. We'll go with the obvious one: a hawk. The hunter trusts the hawk to do what he's bred and trained to do. Lets it go, because it'll come back. Same with a hound. It'll sleep at your feet but it needs to trust you first. I'm the best there is, but if you take away what makes me the best, then it's you who's the idiot in the long run."

[dreamsofpoison]

He looks honestly amused by that comparison. There is so much he can both say and do to that. It looks like he might start laughing again but he controls himself. "You are my hawk," he says seriously, moving in closer.

[halfassed]

"You want me to be."

Clint's started shivering again. He slides down, re-covering himself with the blankets.

[dreamsofpoison]

"You were and still are," Loki corrects in an irritated voice. He leaves the mattress again. He moves to a chair by the fireplace. Defeating the point of sharing body heat. He may be centuries old but he's far from mature.

[halfassed]

"I'm not," he counters. "Not until you get me to trust you again."

Easier than Loki will think, probably. But it suits Clint to have Loki believe it's difficult.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki glances back to him. He does find it curious that he just told him that. Like he wants Loki to do something about it. He certainly will but being so plainly told is interesting. He decides not to draw attention to that aspect.

Then he notices his fingers have begun to turn. With that he feels a stab of anger. Why wasn't this taken with his powers? Why did he have some trickle of power left? Why did he still have--

Oh. No. That had better not be the reason.

He closes his hands into fists, hoping the blue wasn't noticed. Again, he returns to the mattress and gets under the blankets. Noticeably more subdued and more concerned with keeping warm.

[halfassed]

Clint sleeps on his stomach, usually. Arms stretched out under the pillow. He turns that way now, and rests his cheek on the pillow. Facing away from Loki.

It means that he's at least not worried about Loki stabbing him in the back. That's something.

[dreamsofpoison]

Oh, yes. Loki is thrilled with the progress if he wasn't preoccupied with getting his fingers back to flesh tone. He settles on rubbing his hands vigorously together in hopes that will help. After not much progress, he experimentally unfolds his fingers to brush them up against Clint.

[halfassed]

Loki just needs to settle down. The two of them can get some rest, warm up without so many arguments.

He reaches out, lazily, flailing under the blankets until he gets Loki's hand. Never should have gotten out from under the blankets -- and there, Clint stuffs Loki's hand under Clint's belly. Now Loki can't move, and it'll be warmer.

[dreamsofpoison]

A bit of struggling over that but he relents. He gives an annoyed huff then settles.

Eventually, he does fall asleep. As the night goes on, more of the blue creeps over his skin. If the fire dies in the night he'll turn completely.

[halfassed]

Clint wakes up slowly. Sunshine streaking through the windows, filtered and bright; the snow has stopped. Loki is snuggled close. He's --

Clint blinks. Squints. Blinks again.

No, he's definitely blue.

Clint shifts, gingerly, moving his weight off of Loki's arm. Holy shit. He really fucked an alien. Like, he'd known Loki was an alien before, but this is alien alien. There are these weird patterns on his skin, somewhere halfway between organic and purposeful, Clint can't tell which. He reaches out, and touches his fingers lightly to the little lines.

They're ridges. Just barely protruding from Loki's skin. Maybe scars, Clint doesn't know. And Loki's skin is noticeably colder than a human being's, too.

Growing bolder, he lets his hand drift under the blanket. There are more ridges down there; they continue all over Loki's torso.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki shifts, slowly stirring. In the places he's somewhat warmer his skin is pale flesh. The hand trapped under Clint, in addition to being completely numb it still flesh colored. When the touch lowers Loki snaps awake a grabs for whatever is touching him. His eyes open a second later, red. He sits up like he expects a fight. He glances down and--

He recoils. His breathing speeds up, near panic. No.