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

[cuttingremark]

Loki lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding when the door opens and closes. That traitorous part of him hopes that when he peers out into the entrance hall that Clint will still be there, having decided not to leave after all.

It's a strange mixture of relief and unease when he sees that the other really did leave.

Unknowingly, he spends his evening much like Barton: order food, workout, shower, jack off, go to bed. All while trying to not think about the archer, about his hands in Loki's hair and his teeth at his neck. If he comes with Clint's name on his lips, no one has to know other than himself and the drain. He'd hoped that taking care of that before bed would stop any salacious dreams, but of course he was wrong about that as well.

Not that any would know it the next day. Loki's taken care to look put-together with semi-casual, yet fashionable Midgardian clothes in dark greens and blacks. He holds out one of the two steaming travel cups to Clint as he approaches.

"Coffee?"

[brandingproblem]

There's the briefest moment when he wonders where Loki is and who this lady handing him coffee is, until he remembers, laughs, accepts a cup. Of course Loki wouldn't show his face in the city; that's the point. Having a different face (it's still Loki, he can see that, but he knows Loki, too) means better job being undercover.

"You can't quit the color scheme, huh?" he comments. "You don't see me wearing nothing but purples and purple-adjacents."

[cuttingremark]

"You should. It's a very good color." She smirks and takes a sip of her own tea, red lips leaving behind a faint stain on the lid of the cup. "Not as good as green, obviously."

[brandingproblem]

"I'm not gonna start wearing green just for you."

But in bringing up the idea, he thinks about it, for just a split second. Loki influencing his wardrobe, or bringing him things to wear just for them. That denotation of possessing again. It's enticing. It's horrifying. Something inside him recoils while another part would like to very very much.

"Should probably get this over with. I won't let him hurt you."

[cuttingremark]

"Pain isn't exactly my primary concern," she mutters as they move up the steps, fighting back the opposite image- herself in a deep purple dress, or a delicate arrow pendant...

Raising a fist, she bangs on the door with much more strength than her frame would suggest.

It's startling, but it works. A wide-eyed apprentice appears at the door.

"Can I, uh, can I help you?"

"Yes. Is Stephen Strange in?"

"He's studying at the moment, is this an emer-"

Loki presses a sheathed dagger into the young mage's hand. "Give him this. Tell him Hawkeye and an friend are here to drop in."

[brandingproblem]

"Um..." They look at the dagger, back at them. "Sure, I'll...just wait out here while I relay the mess--"

"We'd be happy to wait inside," Clint chimes with fake chipperness, blowing past the apprentice like they're nothing into the foyer.

"Er, ah..." A moment of breathing, and then...defeat. "Of course. Please, stay right here." And they shuffled quickly out through a side door.

Clint, then, eyes Loki. "So. Take it there's a little history there."

[cuttingremark]

Loki follows Clint in with delight, flitting around the room to peer at the items adorning the tables and walls.

"Yes, after he trapped me in the never ending fall, I threatened to stab him," she says as if she's reporting they met at a book club or something. Notably she doesn't stand in one place for very long, remembering the last time how the portal opened beneath her feet with a ring of gold sparks.

She won't be caught off guard again.

[brandingproblem]

"That's a downright reasonable reaction out of you." He watches her from the corner of his eye, choosing instead to be the steady rock in the center of the room. Tempting to just jog up the stairs, start raiding the place, see what secrets there are, but they wouldn't mean anything to him. Would to Loki.

He's not a dog about to go play fetch, though.

"Only threatening. Out of you, I would've expected you go skip right to the stabbing, very hard."

"Oh, don't think he didn't try." The fucking wizard himself appears at the top of the stairs, pretentiously floating with his cloak but dressed in otherwise very casual clothes, old tome in hand. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, Barton, but I was under the impression that you two weren't exactly BFFs." With only a soft sound of sneakers, he lands on the floor and looks up at the both of them. But primarily at Loki. His eyebrows raise just slightly.

"And rumor had it--and by rumor, I mean verifiable fact--that you had shuffled off this mortal coil."

"Doc. It's a bit complicated."

Strange shuts the book with a hand, the sound a heavy thump, but when he steps away from his spot, a translucent afterimage or copy stays in place, rolling its eyes, and keeps on reading its very open book. "I'll say. Either Loki's learned to hide his--her?--their magic, or they don't have any. Otherwise, I would've noticed your presence in absolutely the worst possible city outside of Wakanda's capital you could've chosen."

[cuttingremark]

"Unfortunately it is the later." Loki says, shifting back to his more familiar form partway through the sentence. "But that is not why we're here."

Strange narrows his eyes at the transformation. "Not all your magic, apparently."

Loki just waves him off. "We can discuss my peculiar circumstances later. How familiar are you with the Mind Stone?"

The wizard looks like he would very much like to discuss those circumstances here and now, but the mention of the Infinity Stone piques his interest. With a wave of his hand, the three find themselves in a warm study. Shelves of books and magical artifacts line the walls, a roaring fire crackling merrily in the hearth.

"More than most, less than some," Strange says, glancing between the two of them. "Why?"

[brandingproblem]

Clint's getting pretty used to wild fucking bullshit, but magically suddenly being in a completely different room has him momentarily spooked.

Strange pays the reaction no mind. The tome in hand vanishes with a cloud of orange sparks, motions to chairs like a polite host as he sits in one himself, fingers steepled, one leg crossed over the other. Watching them both.

Clint takes a breath. "You at least have a passing understanding that," with a motion between himself and Loki, "we've got history."

Strange waggles a hand. "I'm aware, but give me details."

"Attack on the city, Loki had the Mind Stone on him, used it on a bunch of us to essentially brainwash us into doing his bidding." He gives Loki a look. The fact that Loki was likewise not entirely himself is much less known. It's an important detail, but it also isn't Clint's to say. "We think there's some kind of lasting effect."

[cuttingremark]

Loki eyes the chair, unsure if it is some kind of trap or not.

"What kind of-just sit down, it doesn't bite." Strange says, huffing at Loki's clear suspicion. "What kind of 'lasting effect'?"

Loki sits gingerly, ready to jump up at any moment. When the chair doesn't spring to life around him, he relaxes just a bit more.

"An...attraction of sort. It started roughly a month ago when I saved him from a gang of thugs in an alley."

[brandingproblem]

Clint makes a face at the word 'attraction', but can't argue it. It's one hell of an attraction. For his part, he chooses to remain standing, something about the latent almost-nervous energy that keeps him from relaxing.

"Gang of thugs?"

He waves a hand. "Not the important part. I needed patching up, Loki dragged me to his place. First I knew he was here, alive suddenly, with no magic."

"And this...attraction," the sorcerer repeats the word with some hesitation, "are we talking magnetic, or are we talking--"

"Animal, kind of." Clint's brow furrows, eyes on the floor. "There's something in my head--something in both of us--where proximity and contact makes for...thoughts and desires coming to the forefront. To the point of not being able to fight it, or think through it. It isn't always necessarily sexual in nature. Sometimes it's violent. Sometimes it's just...it's just impulses. That have to do with each other. Distance doesn't make it go away. Eases it a bit, but it's still there."

"And..." Strange's eyes flit back and forth between them. "You're sure this isn't a job for a psychologist? Sex therapist, maybe? I know a halfway decent neurosurgeon, get some scans done."

[cuttingremark]

"First, yes, I am sure. Second, even if it were, who exactly would you reccomend we go to?"

"Like I said, I know a-"

Loki glares at him nd it actually gets Strange to shut up. For a moment at least.

"Okay, so whenever you two are in the same room you, what? Go at each other like a couple of horny bonobos?"

Loki shrugs. "Eventually, more or less."

Strange sighs. "Yeah, I can run some tests. Magical and medical, just to rule everything out."

[brandingproblem]

"Would appreciate it. And your discretion."

Strange stands and gives him a Look. "Please, I'm still literally a doctor; I can do confidentiality. But you," with a point, "should probably tell someone that stone boy's been messing with your head, and you," pointing the handle of the sheathed dagger suddenly in hand at Loki, "should probably tell Thor before he finds out some other way and busts a hole through my freshly patched roof."

Clint grimaces. "We're telling you, because it's magic, it's Stones, and you had one for a while."

"And as you know, I don't anymore. No one does. That was the point."

"Hasn't stopped this connection from happening."

"And you didn't feel it at all while Loki was alive?"

A shrug. "I think being on a completely different planet and out of my life meant distance makes the heart grow colder."

Strange looks around at some of his books and magical bullshit, looking for something specific. "And you haven't considered just being far from each other and waiting it out?"

"No, totally didn't cross our minds at all, doc."

The wizard pulls a book, then with a motion of his hand, they're in another room completely while he looks at other shelves. Clint's coffee nearly spills from his hand. But at least his feet are still under him. "Why come to me and not Wanda? She's the magic user more attuned to the mind. I'm flattered, of course, but it's not my specialty."

"And saddle her with this? Besides, we were in town. I don't even know where she's gone to."

[cuttingremark]

"Thor will hear nothing of me until my powers are fully returned." Loki grabs for the dagger, only for Strange to pull it away at the last second.

"Nope, you gave this to me. It's mine now."

Loki huffs, but seems to suddenly remember something.

"If you aren't powerful enough, we can always seek out the Sorcerer Supreme," Loki says with a snarky tone. Strange fixes him with an indifferent stare that betrays that the barb actually found it's mark.

"Wong's a busy man, no need to bother him with this."

[brandingproblem]

"Wait, is he not the Supreme? I thought you were the Supreme."

"I was, until I got blipped out of existence, and then that made Wong get the title on a technicality alone."

"So we should go to him."

"Do you want help or not?"

"I'm just saying, if you're not actually the--"

"Take a seat, both of you."

Clint still doesn't want to sit, still wants to keep standing, like he's going to bolt at a moment's notice. "Can't do it standing?"

Strange shoots him a look. "Same way you don't do a CAT scan or an MRI while standing. This could get intense, and I don't need either of you falling over in the middle of it."

He...sits, reluctantly, uncomfortably, but at least he does.

[cuttingremark]

They're both on the same couch and it's just like yesterday. Luckily this time Strange is there to take some of Loki's attention. Something to focus on that isn't the faint heat he can feel from Clint, barely an arm's length away.

"Okay, I'm going to need you both to close you eyes and focus on the other."

Well shit.

[brandingproblem]

"We're...kinda trying to do the opposite of that, you know?"

"Barton," with the exasperated patience of someone quickly running out, "what I'm about to do is the magical equivalent of doing exploratory surgery on your brains. Try to follow my instructions."

"Focus on Loki, got it."

His hands ball in the couch either side of his lap, leaning forward, unable to relax, but he shuts his eyes and thinks about Loki. Tries for distance. Think about Loki from a factual standpoint. View him, review facts about him, don't get into it.

Impossible not to get into it, though. Some of it is the flash of desire, yes, wanting to pounce on him, pin him down, feel hands scratching him all over and pulling him in.

Some of it is memory, sense memory and all. A wave of sickly blue, the same kind dancing in exhausted eyes. The ease of being given an order or being asked questions and responding without hesitation to it all. Falling in step easy as breathing. The internal struggle, useless. The urge to fell the felled god with one last shot, half buried in Stark's floor.

The simplicity of not thinking or fighting it. A hand on his shoulder (a hand in his hair a hand holding his neck tight a hand running down his spine). A murmur of praise (from Loki from the Stone from something beyond either of them from Loki).

Loki under him squirming and gasping and grasping, grinding into one another. The desire for oneness. The understanding between them. Seeing. It all swirls together, and whether that's just his own mind and the connection, or Strange's magic, he certainly can't tell.

[cuttingremark]

UnFotunatly for Loki, he knows exactly what this kind of magic is looking for. He doesn't try to fight the urges, doesn't try to stay neutral, just opens his mind and focuses on Barton.

A hand, a tool, a weapon. Sharp eyes behind a haze of blue, looking for any weakness to escape. Control, more control, more focus than the others. Fear, fear of failure, his own and Bartons. Fear of what was behind the power that bound the two together. He tries to keep the thoughts in some sort of sequential order, but it's no good as old mixes with new in a swirl of sensations and emotions.

Hand, calloused yet soft yet hard. On his skin, in his hair, at his back. Urging him forward, pushing him away, supporting, tearing, grinding, choking-

It all stops in a snap. Loki's eyes open as he gasps like he's been underwater for hours. Strange is breathing heavy as well, leaning back on the table behind him for support, perfectly quaffed hair slightly disheveled.

"Shit," the sorcerer says. "You two got it bad."

[brandingproblem]

The best part, he figures, is that he doesn't think he can feel Strange's brand of magic. He doesn't know which of them is shuffling through memories or sensations, but at least the only fingers across his brain he feels are Loki's, as far as he can tell.

That it all ends so abruptly is the part that slaps him across the face, douses him in ice water. He reels back, confusion pouring in, disorientation, for a moment not entirely sure where or when he is.

But Strange snarks, and Clint leans back, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "No shit," he growls in return. "Great diagnosis."

"Good news," the sorcerer continues, running a hand through his hair to straighten it out (only to dishevel it further), "you're not going crazy. Well, crazier. It really is a lingering influence triggered back when the Stone bound you together."

"Cool. Bad news?"

A hand waggle. "'Bad' is subjective."

"Doc."

"Fixing something done by something as powerful as an Infinity Stone without that same Stone is not exactly easy. Has anyone else under the influence reported anything?"

"Not that we're aware of?"

"And you two, when this connection was broken--"

Clint continues rubbing at his eyes. "Got hit in the head really hard until I snapped out of it."

[cuttingremark]

"Likewise, my connection with the Stone was broken when the green beast slammed me into the floor. Repeatedly." The haze of anger and violence receding, every feeling the Mind Stone had amplified for Thanos' own purpose.

"So you just got whacked on the head really hard. I don't suppose anyone checked you out for traumatic brain injuries after? From the blows or the Stone?"

Loki shrugs. "They certainly didn't me, but I assume they would take more care with one of their own." He gestures vaguely to Clint.

"Right, so we have no diagnostic information directly post trauma." Strange lets out a heavy sigh, fingers going to massage his temples. "We'll work on managing the symptoms until we can find something to sever the connection. You said distance made it better?"

"In a way, but..." Loki grimaces, loath to admit any weakness in front of the pompous human. "I did notice it getting a bit worse in the day or so before Barton arrived. Like an itching at the back of my mind."

[brandingproblem]

"I got put through so many tests after, SHIELD archives probably could make some kinda perfect clone of me that could fool anyone. Medical and psychological." He pointedly doesn't look at Loki when he drops his hands, more at the ceiling than anything else. "I shouldn't've gotten back in the fight after I came to, but I did. After, I was taken care of. For months."

He takes in a steady breath, lets it go, sits up straighter. That was a lifetime ago now. He'd long since gotten over it. But now it sits fresh like mint on the tip of his tongue.

"But if you really wanna push the idea that head trauma's causing this, this would be a really damn delayed reaction. I didn't exactly get some kind of animal craving to literally fuck the guy who figuratively fucked me. I had to sleep in another bed away from my wife when I finally was allowed back home, because it wasn't-" with a fervent motion between the two would-be patients "-it wasn't this I was waking up from in the middle of the night, that's for damn sure. And in the ten and change years since, can't say I've felt anything like this before.

"We're here making fucking idiots of ourselves in front of you because this is some magical bullshit, not a shared hallucination or brain trauma."

There's a few moments of silence ringing after that, and Strange spreads his hands. "Are you done?"

Clint flips him off.

"Okay. Now that that's out of our system, do you want to tell me if you had any worsening symptoms like Loki described, or do you just want to keep lashing out like a child to the person you turned to for help?"

"You don't play well with others, do you?"

"Not everyone ends up a go-to guy on a world renowned superhero team."

"Because you don't play well with others. Got it." Before Strange can get another snark in edgewise: "I think the worst part about all this is that after we got...handsy with each other a couple times, it feels better." A glance, brief, at Loki. "I think it feels a little better. Dunno if it's because of the...giving in or what."

[cuttingremark]

Seeing Clint berate Strange feels good. Not in the weird forced heated way that is their bond, but in a normal vindication sort of way. Thor is always so willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially when Loki is the one with issues with them. Seeing one of the 'heros' tear into the doctor for everything Loki had found irritating about the man feels good. Like it isn't just another one of his many character flaws preventing him from getting along with him.

Or maybe it is and it's just a flaw they share. Still, misery loves company.

Loki nods in agreement when Clint glances at him. "I was the same. It lasted longer the second time, though."

Strange gets that calculating look on his face that makes Loki want to stab him. "Think you two can hold hands for a couple of minutes without going for each other?"

[brandingproblem]

"Doubt it," is the honest reply. "But we could try it. Not getting in a get-along shirt anytime the blue in my brain decides I need a hit of Loki, though."

"Humor me."

Clint grumbles and holds out his hand to Loki. "I don't even know why it gets all determined about touching and more as it is. You'd think it'd be all about...I don't know, a master and his subservient kind of thing."

He knows an aspect of it is simply knowing that they see each other, whether they like it or not. They are different people now, but it's that touch of mind and will and soul that means that no matter what happens, Loki will always be...someone who knows him better than anyone else. At some level.

[cuttingremark]

Loki eyes the hand for a moment before taking it, subconsciously threading his fingers between Clint's. He feels that same pull, but not trying to resist the urge to be with completely does make it easier to not immediately pounce. Oh well, if they do loose control, Strange with either get a show or dowse them with cold water.

"Close your eyes again, we're going to try one more thing..."

He doesn't get much time to comply with the request before they're both awash in gold magic. Without instruction on what to think about, Loki finds his mind naturally wanders to Clint. His hand in his, a map of his years of combat, heat seeping under Loki's skin. It makes him want more. More heat, more places, he wants to be covered in it, wrapped so tightly he can't move. Wants to hear that voice-

"Yep! That's what I thought." Not that voice! "You want the good news or the bad news first?"