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fucky feelings for cuttingremark

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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.

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To his credit, Loli does actually think for a moment before answering. He enjoyed being blinded in the past, but now all he can think of is the vast emptiness of the void, endless falling, no air-

"No blindfolds. Or anything deafening."

His hands start to fidget. Loki's no blushing virgin, obviously, bit something about talking through things in such a detached and plane manner makes him uncomfortable. Like he's being picked apart and examined to see what makes him tick.

"What of you? Does any of that...interest you?"

Clint isn't flippant about it, either. It's an exercise for him, trying to mentally balance things he might like with some people but not with others, things he likes generally that might make alarm bells ring with Loki. Remembering that Loki, as he is now, doesn't want to hurt him or anyone he loves. Doesn't want to control him and puppet him.

"Maybe blindfolds." An admittance. Something so necessary for him, his sight, and to have it taken away by someone like this-- "I can like that, with people I trust. It's a possibility." Might be okay to simply not see Loki. Give him a bit of distance. Hm. "I don't think you should be tying me up, though."

Not that that also isn't enjoyable in its own ways. But with Loki, he could see himself fighting it. Like with pain, with too much pain. The idea of deliberately putting himself in a situation that might be harmful to his mental state just to match what he thinks he's supposed to feel.

He shudders, just a little.

"Deafening's fine." He makes a little motion to his aid. "Can always just turn this off." Is it specifically a turn on? Well. He can't actually say he's played around with the idea of it all that much yet.

"I'd say maybe we should have a system in place if we need things to stop, but I don't know how well short physically throwing each other off that'll work." Are they putting too much thought and planning into this, for something that seems to seep into their senses, drive them mad? "Are you...okay?"

Loki let's out a strangles, half-mad sort of laugh at the question. Obviously he isn't 'okay', nothing about this is 'okay', but here they ate, trying to make the best of it. Trying to ensure the other doesn't come out of this anymore fucked up that necessary. It's good, too good for the likes of him.

"Are you?"

He huffs in return. "I mean about talking about this shit, not-" With a motion to encompass the overall.

"It's fine." Very convincing. He sighs, rubbing his temples. "No, that isn't...it's not you. Just feeling...frayed." It isn't the best descriptor, but he's sure Clint will get it.

"You had enough presence of mind to stop when I pushed you away on the couch. Whatever this is, it doesn't seem to completely rob us of our senses. We may even be more level headed if we don't wait so long next time."

"Well, you did kinda give me a throw. Figure even a mindless animal can figure that much out."

He understands it on an intellectual level. If they don't wait for it to get so bad that they can barely keep their hands off each other and speak in little more than grunts, then they have more agency. Emotionally, he hates it.

"...So I figure...verbally we might need something a little more than just 'stop'. We could go by traffic lights? Green means go, everything's fine, red means stop. Yellow's a slow down, maybe not a full stop but like a proceed with caution type of thing. But," he adds quickly, raising his hands, "if you don't want to complicate it and just have stop mean stop, we can...do that, too."

"No, that sounds sensible." Having a system is a good idea. If it doesn't work, they can always fall back on more physical means.

"We should check in, maybe in...a week?" It's hard to tell what kind of timeline they're working on, but weekly doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

"...I can give you my number. Sure. A week. See if Strange comes up with anything."

Which he hopes so, but who fucking knows.

"Want me to find a place closer to home to meet up?"

"I suppose that depends on how far away you live. I'm assuming one of the first things you did after New York was moving your family somewhere else." Somewhere Loki didn't know about. He'd never truly wanted to use them in his plans, had asked more out of curiosity than anything. But were he in Clint's position, he knows he would have done the same.

"I can't really travel as swiftly as before."

"We stayed in the same state. But different house now, yeah. It wasn't actually after you. It was after I threw an impromptu party to hide the gang from Tony's accidentally rampaging robots. Didn't feel safe to be hiding it all so long and then suddenly everyone knows. Now it doesn't really feel like it matters as much."

So long as they're safe and he can always find them.

"Maybe I just need to suck it up and deal with the idea that I might be taking monthly trips back this way. Check in with Strange, do what we do, go back home, rinse repeat."

Loki doesn't know if he's flattered or offended that he didn't pose enough of a threat to warrant Clint moving his super-secret family after the invasion. In theory he wasn't a threat anymore, but the spy had no way of knowing if Loki had passed on the information to someone else. Not that he did, obviously.

"Hopefully it will not need to be so frequent. Or Strange will prove himself useful and find a solution sooner rather than later."

Finally the spot on the floor Loki was staring at releases it's hold on his gaze and he looks over at Clint.

"Your wife...if you believe it would help, pass along my regrets regarding this situation. I take no pleasure in the position this puts you or her in."

"That bothers you, doesn't it?" Clint's brows furrow. He's surprised. Should he be? "You really don't..." It's a struggle sometimes to realize Loki was not always The Bad Guy, before or after what happened. And that the during was under a certain set of circumstances. "You don't want to hurt me. Or my family. You never did."

"Oh, I don't know if I'd go so far as saying I never wanted to hurt you. There were certainly some murderous thoughts in your direction from Asgard's dungeons." Loki still doesn't mention his family, though.

"But those died long ago. Well before I did, at least."

"Hey, I didn't put you there. If I'd had any say in the matter..."

But. That doesn't matter. Hasn't mattered in a long time.
(But at the same time, if he'd served up some justice to Loki, maybe several other things would have happened differently.)

"I still think you should talk to Thor. But I won't say anything."

"I'm well aware you wished you'd loosed that arrow into my head in the tower. There were several times I wished you had as well." Maybe if he were dead this wouldn't be an issue.

Well, given that he had been dead and now isn't, maybe that wouldn't actually be so helpful.

"I...I know. Thank you for your silence." He won't. He's too much of a coward to face Thor again after all these years, after being mourned again and again, with the threat of it still hanging over his head like some unseen sword dangling in air.

There's not much to say to that. Because he had the discipline enough to know not to murder a guy in front of his brother, and in front of a group of do-gooders. Coulson would've praised him for the restraint if--well.

Another thing to never really forgive Loki for. But.

"Give me your phone. If you've got a phone." He's not sending ravens.

"Of course I have a phone." Loki stands and begins walking out of the room, clearly intending Cint to follow him. "I'm not a barbarian."

His footsteps are nearly silent as he pads into the living room to fish the device from his purse. Luckily he'd had the presence of mind to drop it onto the couch on their way to the bedroom, so there isn't much hunting involved.

"Here." He holds it out to Clint with a new contact screen up.

"What do you even use it for if no one's supposed to know you're alive?"

But he plugs in his info, shoots a text to his own phone, hands it back over. No snooping. No funny business. Tempting as it may be.

"Keep me updated about Strange. And we'll settle on where we want to meet up next time. Even if it's just back here."

"I have my reasons." Mainly ordering takeout. He'd earned pretty quick that the best mom-and-pop establishments didn't have online ordering.

"Of course..." Well now it's just awkward. Loki looks around the room, trying to find either a natural out or something else to talk about. "You are welcome to stay for dinner, if you wish. I don't think we'll have the same problems as last night again."

"...Sure." He shouldn't. He should really just go. But fuck it, let Loki do something nice, as though making up for all of this happening. Even if it feels like some kind of awkward date. "I'll stay out of your way. Not get involved, just in case."

"I can attempt to make pasta again," Loki says, sitting on a bar stool at the counter separating the living area from the kitchen. "Or I can order something. There's a fantastic Indian establishment just a few blocks away."

"Your place, dealer's choice." He knows this is awkward, and that he's not really helping by being any less awkward. Because it's an awkward fucking situation. How else can he be? "I've never been picky." Maybe Loki picked up on that? Maybe he didn't. It's hard sometimes to know what all he does and does not know from their previous time together. And after the years (and apparently a death), even how much of that would stick.

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