Loki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreamsofpoison) wrote2012-08-21 07:31 pm
dreamsofpoison) wrote2012-08-21 07:31 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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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He twists his shoulder around in the socket, testing it.
Fuck.
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"The blankets here produce heat if plugged in."
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He simmers, angry, but presses the ice to his shoulders.
"A thousand years," he says -- "You have to have learned how to massage at some point." He's thinking aloud, not actually asking for a massage. He realizes, belatedly, how it sounds. "Not that I want your hands on me."
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"I can," he confirms then carefully adds, "If you wish."
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Clint takes a breath, and says, "Hell no."
Well, there goes that idea.
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This all sucks.
Clint turns a glare on Loki. "So what was that all about? You just wanted to fuck with my body as well as my mind? You wanted to hear me beg?"
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His voice is cold, and furious. He discards the ice bags, stalks closer to Loki.
"Payment? For what, services rendered? I think it was you taking exactly what you want. Kind of a habit of yours." Which he punctuates with a sharp poke to Loki's chest.
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"You're right," he says simply, "I will be killed or kept imprisoned until death. I wanted to do what I never could before."
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He splutters --
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Saying one thing, then saying another, and Clint has no clue which one is a lie. He tentatively decides that both are. He turns away, then rounds back on Loki. "If that's right, then why let me go? Why not toy with the mouse for another few rounds?"
Not that he's a mouse.
Bad comparison.
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"I had my fun. You had yours whether you choose to admit it. I'd rather avoid making what's left of my life too miserable."
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"You don't even know what you've done to me, do you?"
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He works his jaw and somehow manages to laugh. "Do enlighten me," he says airily.
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The words are right there on his tongue. You ruined my life. You ruined me. Made him useless for anyone else.
The punch isn't satisfying enough. He wants Loki to hurt.
"Small consolation," he says, "that you'll never manage to keep someone loyal to you. And that's what you really want, isn't it?"
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One of his hands disappear behind him, a concealed weapon. "Do not touch me again."
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"And what do you want, Barton?" he asks, finally.
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He intends it as a backhand to Loki -- you're not worth it -- but it comes out angrier, darker, more hurt.
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He sighs. "Got any place around here I can take a shower and get some rack time before I take a blowtorch to those keys?"
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