fucky feelings for cuttingremark

[brandingproblem]

(from here)

He keeps his word. He doesn't tell anyone where Loki's hiding out, powerless. Even though he should. At the very least, Thor deserves to know, and when he inevitably finds out, Clint is going to accept whatever anger the thunder god levels at him.

Steve's gone, Tony's dead, Nat's dead, Bruce is...happy and content with his life and doesn't deserve that dropped on him frankly. So. That's all the OG crew accounted for. The new crew would obviously have heard about Loki, but that's not the same as actually being present fighting him or his forces. That Scott guy doesn't count, either. Like, would they do something? Maybe not if he hasn't actually done anything and doesn't pose a threat.

NYPD might have a few choice words, but. Clint tries very hard not to get noticed by the local LEOs if he can help it. Loki isn't really their jurisdiction, and SHIELD is...more or less out of commission even though it still works in the shadows, where Fury and Hill are. Wherever they are.

Which doesn't mean Loki gets of scot free. If he is up to something, then it's up to Clint to suss it out. Clint's mess, as ever. If Loki really is as powerless as it seems, there are still plenty of other ways he could fuck around and cause trouble. So. His responsibility.

It's definitely not whatever lingering connection of magic that binds their minds, not telepathy, not even really empathy, but still. A connection. It might have been severed long ago, but it's as Loki implied: you don't come out of that, something that strong and strange and otherworldly, and not have there be something that remains behind. Therapy has been all well and good. He isn't angry about it, not really, and he doesn't get nightmares the way he used to, after. But also, he's not sure it prepared him for Loki being in his life again. Not just a passing glance, either.

It jumbles everything up. The same type of traitorous thought that had him pondering Loki's sleeping habits and the absurd thought of touching crops up whenever he's near. Something damn near affectionate, something starved. Something that's in Loki, too, and it makes him feel sick. Makes him feel wanting. Which makes him feel sicker.

His eyes might be clear, but his mind feels clouded. Not a great way to show up at the apartment, but he can't just let this pass by without checking in on Loki. That's most of the reason he takes these trips back to NYC in the first place. Occasionally check in on Avengers-y things, see how the cleanup of the compound is up north, catch up with a few people he actually knows. But. It's about Loki.

It's always been fucking about Loki, huh.

He raps on the door, drinks nestled in a holder. Hot tea for Loki, a spiced blend, cloves, cinnamon. Makes him think of wintertime. Makes him think of the spicy and complicated (former?) god. Coffee for himself. Peace offering.

Comments

[brandingproblem]

He knows it's bad. But that's also part of the thrill. The fucked up nonsense in his head of trying to fit everything together and just acting on the basest impulses. Would he have kept going or let off pressure at some point? Even he has no idea.

But Loki is not defenseless and reacts. He reacts, and before anything has registered, he briefly skids over the coffee table, cups flying, and further across the room until he finally hits the floor, the wind knocked right out of him and everything suddenly seeming far too bright, too bitter, too loud though that may only be his pulse pounding in his ears.

[cuttingremark]

Loki sits up as soon as Clint is off him, eyes wide, a hand clutching his throat protectively. (Like that would have stopped it, he just would have crushed your hand along with your windpipe.) The haze of need slowly lifts and he grips the couch arm so tightly it nearly rips.

He can't look at Clint, just at the floor next to the coffee table.

"What the fuck was that?"

[brandingproblem]

Everything's cooling down significantly. He feels incrementally more himself. Which means. That the horror and panic begin to claw to the forefront. He takes a few deep, shaky breaths from the floor and almost doesn't register the question. Almost.

"I don't know."

It's as honest as anything else he's said. He aches, physically this time, but pulls himself up. To his feet. He feels next best to lightheaded for the sudden removal of that insisting stimulus.

And makes a beeline directly for the door.

(without his shirt? all scratched up? yes. these are things that are not on his mind at all.)

[cuttingremark]

Loki should stop him, should at least get him to put a damn shirt on before running out. But then again, she should have done a lot of things differently in the past few minutes. So he lets him go, staying completely still for a good 5 minutes after he hears the door slam shut.

Though his body is still, his mind has never worked faster. Were they really...engaged for only a few minutes? It felt like eternity. Why did he do that? Why did Barton reciprocate? Why did he-

Loki jolts to action in a split second, grabbing the essentials first and throwing them into a backpack. The books are already sorted, but there are more in the "necessary" pile than he thought. It needs to fit all in two boxes max.

[brandingproblem]

So maybe in other places, a shirtless scratched up panicky looking guy who may or may not be recognized as an Avenger might be cause for concern. This being New York City, however, there's stranger shit on about every street corner. Some people look, of course, but if there's more than that, he doesn't take notice. His head is on fire. The hamster's back on its wheel. Everything is going wrong and imploding and fucked up and he doesn't know what to do about it.

He barely even comes to realize he's still shirtless when he gets about halfway around the block. At least he's still got pants. He stops, breathing hard, and digs out his phone. But he doesn't know who to call. Laura? And say what? His therapist? And say what?

The air helps his head to clear, even if it makes what happened not at all any clearer. He's less frantic when he makes the rest of the trip around the block, hands shoved in his pockets, just Some Shirtless Dude Taking A Walk, nothing anyone should notice. And while he hates...going back, hates the idea that maybe he's crawling back, even if he doesn't apologize, he does anyway. Right back to Loki's door. Where he stands, shifting from foot to foot for a minute, two minutes, three. And knocks quietly, head resting on the wood.

[cuttingremark]

Loki is lost in his mind, debating if he needs both "Runic Magic of Vanaheim" and "Advanced Ruins by Esotopes Solbakken" when the soft knock echos through the apartment like a gunshot. This time it does startle him. He knows who it is even before he get to the peephole.

He sighs and squares his shoulders before opening the door.

"So were the men in black who gathered for my arrest waiting on the first floor, or did you have to go all the way to the end of the block?"

[brandingproblem]

"What?"

Not what he was expecting. But past Loki, he sees a bit of organized chaos.

"No...nobody's coming, Loki, 's just me. Unfortunately."

[cuttingremark]

Loki pokes his head into the hallway, looking one way, then the other, before stepping aside for Clint to come in.

"Your things are on the side table." Back turned to Clint, he gestures at the shirt neatly folded, any items he may have left behind laying delicately on top.

A sturdy looking black backpack is sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, upon rests two medium sized boxes filled with books. More books lay dumped on the couch with only a small spot open where Loki sits back down to continue debating the two books at hand.

[brandingproblem]

He doesn't, at first, move from the doorway. Like entering is a bad idea that will only lead to bad things. He doesn't want to be here. But it seems Loki doesn't, either.

Finally, with a sigh, he steps in and closes the door. "You don't have to leave. Nothing's changed." Everything has changed. "On the front of who knows where you are, I mean."

[cuttingremark]

Loki pauses long enough to give Clint a dubious look.

Both books land in the left box with a loud thud.

There's a lot they should say, a lot that would do them good to get out into the open. But Loki didn't get to where he is with clear lines of communication and a healthy concepts of boundaries.

"Changed your mind about dinner, then?" So snark it is!

[brandingproblem]

Where the hell would they even start?

With a sigh, he gathers up his things, pulls the shirt back on over his head. There's a little stinging on his back, but any blood that was drawn has definitely already dried, so it's fine. It's fine. Nothing else is fine but that much is fine.

"I wouldn't wanna distract you from your cooking by existing in your presence." Just because Clint has needed to Talk It Out before and currently does not mean he's an open book unwilling to snark right back.

[cuttingremark]

"I assure you, I've cooked under more duress." Had he?

He sighs and gets up. "The question is can you stand to be around me?"

[brandingproblem]

"The question is if it's gonna end with us going at it." Fine. He'll be the adult in the room and Talk About It. "You feel it, too. Whatever the fuck this is."

[cuttingremark]

Loki nods, leaving the books behind to head to the kitchen.

"I knew the stone left us with a connection, but I didn't think it would be this...potent."

[brandingproblem]

"There's some vague annoying connection, and then there's that." He reluctantly follows just so they aren't yelling across the way. But keeps his distance deliberately. "It's why you rescued me in the first place, right? You probably wouldn't have gotten involved, but there was something in the back of your mind?"

[cuttingremark]

"Do you really think so little of me?" Would he have done anything if it weren't for that niggling at the back of his head?

"I already said I felt I owed you after everything that happened, but I cannot deny that there was something else there at the time." Loki starts pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. Seems he was genuine about dinner.

[brandingproblem]

He lets that go unanswered. Because that seems like a rhetorical question. 'After everything that happened' and all.

He should leave, of course. He's got his shirt back, and staying is only going to invite something happening again. But Clint sits, gingerly, at the counter instead. "I haven't had thoughts like this in--" A sigh. "A long time." There were similar trends in the immediacy of the aftermath. Things left over, things rattling around in his skull with nowhere to go.

[cuttingremark]

"It is possible seeing each other again triggered something. Like opening up on old scar." Loki's voice is steady, but his hands are just a bit more clumsy than normal. He attempts to pull a pot out of an upper cabnit, only to have the handle catch on something and slip from his grip. It clatters to the counter, then down to the floor with a series of noises loud enough to wake the dead.

Loki curses, but does not move to pick it up immediately. Instead he presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. Apparently Clint isn't the only one having some issue with fraying nerves.

[brandingproblem]

There's something to be said about these scars not being ones he ever wanted to reopen, but then there's the clatter and crash. He's halfway out of his seat, part startled, part...wanting to help? Probably that. But. That also would require getting closer to Loki. Who is having a time.

He sits back down. Takes a breath. Okay. Part of this is on him.

"I'm sorry. That I sprung the choking on you. I don't... You get it. Neither of us knew what we were doing. Just doing."

[cuttingremark]

"I understand, I..." Loki lets out a heavy breath, hands moving from his eyes up into his hair as he looks at Clint for the first time since he re-entered the apartment.

"Thank you. People don't normally...apologize to me."

[brandingproblem]

"Yeah, well, you had a reaction, and you had every right to. I normally...wouldn't. Do that. Without talking about it first anyway." But now is probably not the time to get into kinks! Especially if their ~connection~ or whatever the fuck they're gonna call it means they ignore everything logical and sensible.

"Here's a stupid question." Ask stupid questions, get stupid answers! "How honest should we be right now? How...open, do you think?"

Yes, ask the god of liars who prefers to go with snark and talking around issues that. But Loki's hands going into his hair gives Clint a very profound urge to get his own hands in there, threading through, petting, tugging. And he is not going to act on that. But wonders if he should bring it up.

[cuttingremark]

They can talk about kinks later once they get this figured out

Loki lets out a hollow, almost feral laugh. "You're asking me, ME, how honest we should be with each other?" He shakes his head. "The world has truly gone mad."

Or maybe just the two of them. Loki grips his hair just a little tighter wishing they were not his own before his hands drop down and he bends to retrieve the fallen pan.

"Honesty would likely be in our best interest, but I have a feeling it will be supremely uncomfortable for the both of us. Shall we agree on a trade? One truth for another, so neither feels the other is gaining more than they are giving."

[brandingproblem]

"I know, believe me, I know." That honesty with them, with Loki, is like drawing water from a stone. But they've been honest, forced to be honest, and that...means something. Doesn't it?

He slouches in his seat, arms on the counter, chin resting on his arms. Glances at Loki, glances away. "A truth is that right now, I would really like getting my hands in your hair, now that you've drawn attention to it."

[cuttingremark]

Loki keeps moving as Clint talks: set the pan on the counter, bend down to get a pot for the pasta, take the pot to the sink to fill it with-

His hand freezes halfway to the tap. Turning to look at the other would be dangerous right now with the blush that forces it's way onto Loki's face at the thought of those dexterous fingers tangled in his hair, petting, pulling. He clears his throat.

"That is a problem, because I would very much like your hands in my hair." Loki stays frozen in place. He made the first move on the couch, he can't be the one to make the first move here as well.

[brandingproblem]

"I figured."

He could fix that. He could come right over and tangle his fingers in and kiss Loki deeply, kiss his neck and not choke this time. But. That would be giving into this. That would be...bad. And food will never get made.

Clint stays very still where he is.

"I should go."

He doesn't move.