dreamsofpoison | for halfassed

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for halfassed

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.

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"Oh, thank god."

Somewhat of a paradoxical reaction. But really, Clint is just relieved that he's not completely nuts. That there's a reason he's not going kamikaze on Loki's ass. Connection.

"I'm glad I'm not crazy," he says. "So, what's the link?"

Loki has a suspicion what the link is but he's not going to drop that bomb. Well, and be believed. "I can't be certain," he says, making sure to sound hesitant.

"It can't be severed by conventional means whatever it is. I've tried."

"Don't fuck with me, Loki."

God, is it just his imagination, or does Loki smell really good? How did he not notice this before now? -- He probably got used to it, and then with the food and everything -- yeah. But damn.

"That is precisely the problem," Loki says in a low hiss. "Do you understand?"

He pulls the blankets closer around himself protectively. That is partly the truth. He's still guarding what he thinks is the true cause.

"Well, whose idea was that?"

Not exactly capable of giving consent while under mind control, here.

Then again, they'd just established that maybe the mind control went both ways. And Clint still is maddeningly attracted to him.

"Wait. Did the scepter make you want to ... do whatever with me?"

"Well," Loki says, "The desire was there. I can't say if I would have acted on it without the scepter. If I had, without it, it's unlikely you would have known it was me."

"Jeez," says Clint. "Creepy." And then belatedly, it occurs to him that part of that statement might pass as a compliment, if you squint a little.

"I usually prefer women." Ouch, no, he probably shouldn't have put it like that. "I mean, you were an exception." Because apparently just giving out orders like he's born to it is enough to get Clint on his knees. Come to think of it, he is born to it. -- Or wait, no, that's right. He's a Frost Giant.

He clears his throat. "So it sucks for both of us," he says. "What is it that's lingering? Is it some psychic thing? Pheromonal?"

He really just wants to press his nose into Loki's neck and inhale.

Apparently Loki is used to that kind of response. "I would have appeared as a woman," he says with a shrug, "It wouldn't have been the first time."

As for what it is, he frowns faintly. "I'm not certain. Pheromonal is possible but it cannot be the only cause."

Something goes thunk in Clint's brain at that thought. Should've seen that one coming. He grits his teeth; god damn if it doesn't make his sexual desire surge.

He gulps down the last of the eggs and slides under the blanket again, next to Loki. Maybe hoping to hide the slight boner that he got from that thought. Oh god, what if Loki had him go down on -- him? her?

"I don't even know what I'm talking about here," says Clint. "But I have this weird feeling that you have something specific in mind that you do or don't want to tell me, and if you're so sick of talking, maybe you could stop beating around the bush."

"It's possible I am pregnant," Loki says flatly. He's sitting up under the covers warped around him. "It would explain why I wasn't completely turned into a human. Why my skin changed and why I have only enough magic to cover it up."

"What."

It takes him a very long moment to realize he said that aloud. And a longer one to actually parse the words. Pregnant. Loki might be pregnant. Loki might be pregnant and exactly where the hell is he hiding a womb?

Clint truly, deeply wants to go somewhere else and just absorb this news, but there's not much alternative to here, unless he wants temperatures below the approximately 40-50 that this room wavers between.

A kid. Clint never wanted kids. No, that's not true. He entertained a sort of weird, distant fantasy about being married and being happy, but never really accepted that as a viable outcome to his line of work. He can't be a good dad and a master assassin at the same time.

Would he even be a dad to this thing? This half-Frost Giant, half-human -- this happened in mythology all the time, right? Clint has to reread that shit.

He turns over onto his back, and attempts to absorb this news.

Loki just stares at him. Huh. It appears he broke him. "I have an illusion in place that helps conceal it," he reiterates, "so I appear fully male."

"No kidding."

He takes a long breath.

"Well, we can't run to the drugstore and get you a pee-stick, so -- when will we know?" It seems to him that Loki's fragility has taken on a whole new aspect, a new dimension. He's a stick of glass. He's a piece of ice. And Clint can not let him shatter.

He feels very, very strongly about this.

Of course, Loki still thinks of himself as far from fragile, even with the loss of his powers. "When I start to show, I imagine," he says, "I do not bleed with regularity." Yep, Loki just told you about his period. Loki.

He shifts to laying back down next to him. He watches him a moment then reaches for his hand and guides it between his legs. He'd rather get this part over with on his terms than the alternatives. The illusion dissipates, leaving his strange mix of anatomy. His balls hug much closer to his body, almost internal, in fact they retract into his body during intercourse. Below that, an opening to a vagina. He even has a clitoris, tucked higher up, closer to his penis.

His palm cups the smaller testicles, and then his fingers find Loki's clit. Realizes what it is as soon as he touches it, and he says, "Sorry," because that was probably too rough. He continues more gently, brushing his fingers down Loki's vulva, finding the entrance to his vagina.

His heart is beating too quick. Kind of getting an erection from feeling how different Loki is, in fact. Touching this part of him makes Clint want to swear devotion or do something stupid like that. Loki's body might be home to a kid.

Though Loki instigated this he's not entirely comfortable either. His legs shift uneasily. His breathing starts to speed up and there is a small shiver when his clit is touched.

"It's possible," he repeats.

Clint, weirdly, is pretty sure about it now. If Loki had wanted to use this to manipulate him, he would've done it straight away. Loki's hesitation, to his mind, means that Loki doesn't want it to be true, which means that Loki is probably fooling himself on the chances, anyway, and besides he smells so good.

Clint gives in to his impulse, and nuzzles Loki's shoulder, inhaling. His finger quests a little bit deeper, hoping for a little bit of wetness.

"Loki." His throat is dry. "This is... really sexy." What the hell.

"What?" he blurts out.

Not the sort of response he's used to. Most prefer that he pick a gender then alter the rest of his body accordingly. Which was always easy with his shape changing powers. Without them he's stuck in this half state, even if he has an illusion to cover himself.

In any event, Loki is a bit wet and he squirms at the introduction of a finger. That part of him doesn't typically see a lot of action.

What did he care about Loki being normal? None of this was normal, and Clint had already broken preferences once for this. This is Loki drifting closer to what Clint usually wants, not farther away.

He doesn't penetrate Loki, just skims his finger back and forth, spreads the moisture. Doesn't venture any further, and, in fact, once he realizes how much this is turning him on, he withdraws. Touches his palm to Loki's belly, as though he'd be able to feel the presence of a fetus there. Ridiculous.

He pulls his hand away.

"This is all a little much."

Loki's jaw tightens, it feels good, he won't deny that it does little to dispel his unease. "I agree," Loki says sharply. He edges away a few inches. Clint's change in behavior does get him closer to his goals but he it leaves Loki with a strange feeling he's not sure he likes.

"I am not a woman," he feels the need to say.

"No kidding."

He's not an idiot.

Even if part of him is pushing in the other direction right now -- yeah, you are, you're a mother.

He can't take the lead in this. He doesn't know the first thing about gods, or people who are male and female, or Loki, or magic. He can't be the one to reassure Loki.

"If you are," he says, "pregnant, I mean, then are you going to let me...?" Have anything to do with it? "Or are you going to just take it away to the Chitauri or something?"

Loki pushes himself up and glares at Clint. "The Chitauri will never have anything of mine ever again," he spits. He seems surprised by his own outburst. A sigh then he continues calmly. "We may not have a say in its fate," he says solemnly.

He looks thoughtful for a moment then moves over to straddle Clint's hips. He reaches out to cup the side of his face possessively. "I would do more than let you," he says, somehow making it sound menacing.

From zero to completely embarrassed, because he's still got half an erection, and Loki's tone makes that rapidly reverse direction and stop softening.

"Okay," he says. "I'd like that." Simply stated, but true.

Loki glances down obviously noticing the return erection. "How long were hard?" he asks with an amused look on his face. His hand on his face draws downward to catch his chin and tilt his head back.

He lets Loki tilt his chin up. Figures, what the hell, might as well go for honesty. Loki seems to like that. "Basically since you had me touch you."

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