Chapter Text
Thor has, once again, gone completely insane. And possibly braindead. Really, there are only two options: either Loki inherited every ounce of intelligence Frigga and Odin had to offer, or he and Thor are not actually related. Sometimes he thinks that he might prefer the latter.
“No,” he says, as firmly as he can, and turns a page of his book. "Absolutely not."
“Brother,” Thor says, “I know you don't want to and of course I understand. Believe me, I do, but you might not have a choice. Midgard is in danger.”
"Ah, yes. Your precious Midgard." Loki looks up from his book, acting like he just had an epiphany. "But that's just it, isn't it? Contrary to you, I haven't set foot on Midgard in ages and I don't care for it, either, so, yes. Your Midgard, and your problem."
Thor crosses his arms and looks at him with a mixture of imploration and stubbornness. "I won't accept a no, Loki. I promised my shield brothers -"
"They aren't your shield brothers, Thor. They are your Midgardian pets."
"- that you would help, and I don't break my promises."
"No? Do you remember that one time you promised you would go to the kitchens and get us both some cake, but proceeded to eat the whole thing yourself?"
"That was five centuries ago."
"Well, I'm a very resentful person."
"But you are also a good man," Thor says and sits down on the bench next to Loki, keeping his distance so as to not make Loki uncomfortable. "And I know that you would never turn your back on me when I need you."
"It takes more than that to manipulate a manipulator, Thor."
"I'm not trying to manipulate you, I'm just speaking the truth."
Loki suppresses a sigh and looks down at his book, frowning. "Thor, I can barely even leave the palace without losing my mind," he says, quietly. "No matter if I want to or not, I wouldn't be of any use in Midgard."
"Jane will come with us," Thor says at once, because apparently he thought things through for a change. "She's been able to help you in the past. And I won't leave your side, either. I'll make sure that nobody crosses any lines, and if you get overwhelmed, I'll protect you. As always."
"As always," Loki agrees, lips twitching into a brief, bitter smile. He's unbelievably tired of needing protection. For the first time, he allows himself to actually consider the idea. Thoughtfully, he adds, "Returning to Midgard wouldn't be too bad, I suppose. I did like it there."
"See? It will be -"
"But back then there were much less people in Midgard," Loki continues, "and I've never been in a Midgardian city. New York - judging by your stories, the noise alone would kill me."
"Don't be dramatic."
Loki just looks at his brother, unimpressed and unamused, and after a moment Thor gives in and winces slightly.
"It might put you out of action, but only for a few minutes. And like I said, Jane and I will be there. Nothing will happen to you." Thor leans in a little, his eyes big and blue and pleading. "Brother, I really need your help. I will bring you all the cake you could possibly want if you just come with me."
Usually, Loki isn't easily swayed. Sadly, every rule has an exception, and his brother has always been one of Loki's weak spots.
He sighs and closes his book. "I'll take you up on that."
*
The second they arrive in Midgard, Loki knows that he is going to die. Oh, he's definitely going to die right here and now, because just half of everything that's crashing down on him at the moment would already be far too much to deal with. The smells alone - air rainnotlongago stoneglassmetal foodwhatkindoffood? peoplesomanypeople gasdirtpollution whatanimalsmellslikethat?whatisthatwhatisthatwhatisthat - are making talking and moving and thinking impossible, and the sheer noise of whatever hel is going on in the city below them -
"Loki, it's alright. Can you hear me?"
If anybody touches him right now, he is going to obliterate them. He decides to stop breathing altogether. Oxygen is vastly overrated, especially oxygen that smells like this.
"Do you need to leave? Loki, do you need to leave?"
Loki shakes his head. What he needs is a moment of peace and silence in a clean and empty room. Why are they outside? Why aren't they -
"What's wrong with him?"
"Shut up, Clint."
"Is he going to pass out?"
"No, he is not," Thor says. He's standing half in front of Loki, trying to protect him as always, and that does help a little.
"I need to go inside," Loki grits out.
"Of course," one of the strangers - Thor's shield brothers - says.
Only that this one is a shield sister, and she smells like blood and vigilance and danger. The other, a man, smells like whatever he had for breakfast; Loki doesn't recognize the smell itself, he just knows that it's food. Something sweet, made of eggs and flour and milk…
They go inside. Loki keeps his eyes closed; he doesn't need to be able to see to follow them. He has to use every bit of self control he has not to pass out like Thor's Midgardian friend feared he would, and for now it's easier to navigate through the building by using his ears and nose only.
Dozens and dozens of new smells and sounds threaten to overwhelm him, but he makes it to their destination without losing his composure again. He distracts himself thinking about all the cake he is going to make Thor get him.
They sit down in a room that is, thankfully, mostly empty and mostly clean. Loki finally dares to open his eyes, even though he keeps them half-lidded, squinting against the light. There is just a table and some stairs, a potted plant in one corner that smells like green and dirt and life, the only pleasant smell in the room.
Thor is sitting to Loki's right, Jane on his left side. She's doing the best she can to help him stay calm - she is a very good Guide, but she is not Loki's, so the best she can do for him doesn't help him a lot, really. But still, this is… doable, he thinks. Very disturbing and uncomfortable, but doable. All his nerve endings are going haywire, but he's still in his right mind.
Maybe he will actually be able to help.
Except him, Thor and Jane, four people are now in the room. The man and woman from earlier and two other men - both smell oddly artificial in a way that makes Loki want to stay away from them, but he manages to block it out.
"Thank you for coming," the tall, blond one says, standing far too close to Loki's chair. "Thor told us a lot about you." He holds out his hand. "I'm Steve Rogers."
"I'm afraid I don't do... touches," Loki says, glancing at Rogers' hand. "But it's nice to meet you."
Something about his tone seems to make Rogers uncertain, he lets his hand sink and frowns slightly. Before he can say anything, Thor jumps in.
"My brother doesn't leave Asgard often," he says. "But he is very happy to be here."
"Don't talk for me, Thor."
"I'm just trying to -"
"Thor," Jane says, a warning note in her voice, but Loki doesn't let her talk for him, either.
"Do you really want to argue with my right now, brother dearest?"
Rogers clears his throat and changes the topic; he introduces the others. Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner. Five Avengers, including Thor.
One is missing.
"Where is Tony?" Thor asks, and everybody in the room - except Loki and Jane - rolls their eyes.
"Late," Barton says. "As usual."
As if on cue, the door opens. A Guide enters the room, and everything - everything - changes.
*
He is a comparatively short man. He is well dressed, in a dark gray suit and shiny shoes. He has brown hair and hides his eyes behind colored glasses. He smells like coffee and oil and stress.
He is frozen in place, stunned into silence, and even with the glasses it's clear that he is staring at Loki as if his entire world just got turned upside down.
It's a sentiment Loki can very much relate to.
He's been told what it feels like. He knows it from stories, from conversations, from books. And in a way, it is exactly like he expected it would be - he notices everything, even the slightest detail, about the room he is in. The breaths of the others, the confused glances they exchange, the light coming through the window, the dust on the windowsill. Clothes rustling slightly as somebody moves. Every sound, every smell is so much clearer - and so much easier to deal with. Loki notices it all, and at the same time it feels like he is in a tunnel, and the only thing he really sees and hears and smells is the man who just entered the room.
"Loki," Thor says, slowly. Confused. His hand is dangerously close to Loki's shoulder.
"If you touch me," Loki says calmly, without taking his eyes away from the Guide, "I am going to cut off your fingers one by one."
"We need to leave the room," Jane says, similarly calm, but urgent. "Everyone out, now."
Someone protests. Loki doesn't care. The only thing he cares about is the man who is still staring at him, who automatically steps aside when Jane steers the unimportant people out of the room. The Guide is shying away from being touched by, from even getting close to other people, and that fills Loki with a deep, primal sort of satisfaction he hasn't known until now.
The last person finally leaves the room, and Loki teleports to the door to close it and lock it with magic. The Guide doesn't even flinch. They stand there for a long moment, unable to take their eyes off each other.
Finally, the Guide says, "What the hell is going on?"
It's the voice that does it. Loki can't hold himself back anymore, he steps forward, right up into the Guide's personal space, and he's already reaching out to touch him. He hesitates in the last second, though, manages to consider how confusing this must be for the Guide, but right now, Loki has no idea how to make him less confused, how to explain this. He just knows that he needs to touch his Guide, and he needs to touch him right now.
The Guide nods, slowly, as if he isn't quite sure why he is nodding, and grabs Loki's wrists to put them on his body. Loki's fingers dig into the Guide's sides, they both suck in a sharp breath, and then Loki pulls the Guide close and presses him against his own chest and gods, it's - it's -
Everything.
Loki turns his head, buries his nose in the Guide's hair. He doesn't smell like stress anymore, only like confusion, and also like warm and safe and mine, mine, mine.
The Guide wraps his arms around Loki in return and holds him just as tightly. He makes a quiet, content sound, and it almost makes Loki purr. He can hear the Guide’s heartbeat, quick and excited against Loki’s own chest, and he also hears his breaths and an odd humming sound he doesn’t recognize, but at the moment he can’t even bring himself to care about that. Loki has never been this comfortable in this entire life, and at the same time he has never been this alert. He is beyond reason right now, but if he weren't, he would be reasonably sure that he would kill every fool who even thought about approaching them right now.
"I still don't know what's going on," the Guide murmurs, his voice breathy and warm against Loki's neck, making him shiver. "Care to explain or do you need more cuddle time?"
Loki hums and rubs his nose against the Guide's hair. Gods, that smell. Loki is never going to get enough of it. But yes, he does need to explain; he can also smell that his Guide is getting worried again, and Loki doesn't like that. But letting go of him - and staying here? While they talk about this?
No, definitely not.
"I need to bring you somewhere else," he says and manages to pull back, although just slightly. Enough to look at his Guide. He frowns; the glasses need to disappear as soon as possible. "Preferably to a place where nobody can interrupt us. Preferably… a place that smells like you."
"Okay," the Guide says easily. "I can get a jet ready, just -"
"I can teleport us. Just tell me where."
"You can teleport us."
"Yes," Loki murmurs and leans forward, pressing his lips to the Guide's temple. "As long as you can show me a picture of some sort."
The Guide nods and rifles through his pockets until he pulls out a small device - Loki isn't sure what it is, but the Guide's fingers seem to be very familiar with it, so it can't be anything dangerous. He waits until the Guide shows him the small screen, and after taking a proper look, he nods.
Seconds later, they are in a big room that smells exactly like his Guide. The noise of the city is gone; Loki can only hear the sound of waves and the wind, and given that he can’t smell a single other person, they probably aren’t in New York anymore. The next house has to be miles away. Loki preens, relieved and satisfied; his Guide couldn't have chosen a better place.
"Thank you," Loki says quietly and pulls his mate close. He wants to kiss his skin again. "This is much better."
The Guide chuckles; it's music to Loki's ears. "Okay. And now? Do you want to sit down?"
Loki nods, and the Guide drags him over to a sofa and makes him sit down. Loki pulls him down with him. "May I see your eyes?" he asks, then tugs at the Guide's jacket. Every single layer of clothing between them feels like one too many. "And take this off. It's in the way."
Another chuckle, and a crooked, blinding grin. The guide takes off his glasses and folds them, puts them aside. He has brown eyes, matching his hair, and there's a mischievous spark in them that Loki adores.
"You're pretty demanding," the Guide says, teasingly. "I'm still freaking out here, you know."
"There's no reason to freak out," Loki tells him at once. "Nothing will happen to you."
"If you say so." The Guide shrugs out of his jacket and puts it aside. "Loki, right?"
Oh, right. Names. Loki blinks. He completely forgot about that. "Yes. Loki." He reaches out and takes the Guide's hand, finally realizing that he isn't just the Guide. "My brother told me about you. Tony Stark."
"The one and only," he says, grin softening when he looks down at their hands.
"Is that your full name?"
"Yeah," he says. "Well, no. Anthony Edward Stark, that's my full name."
"Anthony," Loki decides. He feels dizzy. Anthony. For a moment, Loki is awestruck by the fact that he has actually, after centuries of hoping and waiting and doubting and despairing, found his Guide. Anthony, who was on Midgard the whole time and therefore out of Loki’s reach, a mortal who wasn’t even born yet a century ago.
Yes, everything has changed, and it’s both exhilarating and frightening.
"Are you alright?" Anthony asks. "Because you look like I'm feeling, and I don't know if I'm alright."
"I'm alright," Loki says. "You're my Guide."
"Okay." Anthony nods. "I have no idea what that means."
"Well." Loki forces himself to think. Anthony doesn’t know anything about this, and Loki has to explain. He can do that, or at least he thinks he can. He looks down at their hands as well, lets his fingertips trail over Anthony's palm, his wrist. "For you, it means that you attract others as if you are the light moths are drawn to." He speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully; he's aware that he still isn't thinking all too clearly, and he doesn't want to scare Anthony. "It means that you can control a room full of people with just a look, or a smile. It means that so far nobody has needed you in that particular way you want and need to be needed." He pauses. "It also means that you are lonely. Empathic, but wayward. Lost, at times. It means that you have been waiting for me."
Anthony thinks about that for a moment, then he asks, "Why you?"
Loki thinks about it for a moment, but his desire to think is once again overshadowed by his desire to touch. He runs his hand up Anthony's arm, careful and gently, then down his back. "May I? I -"
"Touch me all you want, it's alright," Anthony says, somewhere between bewildered and absolutely sincere.
Loki has to smile. He wraps arms around Anthony's middle and pulls him close against his side, brushing his cheek with his lips. Anthony relaxes, leans against him, puts his head on Loki's shoulder and buries his face in the crook of Loki’s neck. He lets out a sigh, relieved, and Loki full-heartedly agrees because yes, this is much better.
"I feel like all my nerve endings are going haywire," Anthony murmurs quietly. "I've never felt anything like it. It’s… "
He trails off, and Loki tries to calm him by holding him a little tighter. "That's normal. The bonding usually strengthens a Guide's senses a little, too."
Anthony sighs again. "Okay. Explain this whole thing to me like I'm five years old, would you?"
Loki nods, and finally says, "I am what my people call a Sentinel. That means that I have… exceptionally good senses, which is supposed to be very useful in, say, battles, or in any other situation in which I have to protect others and myself."
"Okay, so you can see and hear and smell very well."
" Very well, yes. I am also," he runs his fingers up and down Anthony's arm again, "very sensitive to touches. I haven't touched another person in… eight decades, I think."
Anthony flinches and sits upright, looking at Loki out of wide eyes. "Eight decades? Are you kidding me?"
Loki raises a brow. "No, I am not. Not touching anyone is preferable over getting overwhelmed every time I try."
"Getting overwhelmed," Anthony echoes, frowning. "Like on the roof?"
"Yes," Loki says, surprised. "How do you -"
"I wasn't there, but I saw the footage," Anthony explains, waving his hand. "It's my tower, I've got cameras everywhere."
Ah. It's not uncommon for an unbonded guide to feel unsafe, so arrangements like that make sense. Loki nods. "I see."
"So why is this okay, then?"
"Hm?"
Anthony snorts and pokes Loki's stomach. "I don't know if you noticed, but we're definitely touching, and you seem fine to me."
"Oh," Loki says, and he smiles in reaction to Anthony’s teasing tone. He feels so warm. "Yes, I am fine." What an understatement. "More than." His smile widens. "To answer your question, this is okay because for every Sentinel, there is a Guide who excels at helping them… regulate their reactions, so to say. Guides act like an anchor, a fixed point when things become too much to handle."
"Wait," Anthony says. "Wait. Are you saying that - that in the whole universe, there's only one Guide or whatever who can do that for you? Is that what you're saying?"
"That is what I'm saying," Loki confirms, happy that Anthony is catching on so quickly. "In Asgard, there are much more Sentinels than Guides, and while every Guide might be able to help every Sentinel to a degree, nobody will work as well as the Sentinel's mate, whose presence alone is usually enough to make their Sentinel feel… well.” Loki swallows and looks away for a brief moment. "Safe. In control. Unbonded, it often doesn't take long until Sentinels go insane. I am the lucky exception, although I could barely even leave my rooms in the last two centuries."
"My head hurts," Anthony says distractedly. "How old are you, exactly?"
"Mh. A little older than a millennium. I'm young, younger than Thor."
"Young," Anthony echoes. "Yeah, right."
Loki frowns. "Does that bother you?"
"No," Anthony says, shaking his head. "No, it's just - a lot to deal with right now. I really didn't expect this to happen when Thor said he'd ask his baby brother for help." He takes a breath. "So, about that… mate thing. It's me."
"Yes," Loki says. "It's you."
"Does that mean we're like, soulmates?" Anthony asks flatly. "Because I'm starting to feel like I'm in a YA novel."
"I don't know what that is, but yes, soulmates is a word to describe it." He leans in to kiss Anthony's cheek. "To put it more simply, you are mine, and I am yours.”
“Huh,” Anthony says, a little absent. “That’s - why doesn’t that freak me out? I had commitment issues my whole fucking life, it should freak me out.”
Something shifts in Loki’s chest - sympathy, but the fiercely protective kind. Commitment issues. Also not uncommon; Loki wouldn't be surprised if Anthony has only a handful of people he is actually close to. By a human's standards, Anthony isn't young anymore - Loki doesn't know how old he is, exactly, he'll have to ask about it later - and it's very, very unusual for a Guide who has reached adulthood to still be unbonded. It's practically unheard of, because Guides are good at finding their mates. Loki only knows two who became adults without having bonded, and that only because their Sentinels had died before they could meet. Both Guides are difficult, lonely people who seem to be unable to actually settle down, and Anthony is probably similar. Lonely, that is, just like Loki said earlier; so far he doesn't find anything about Anthony difficult.
He hums and pulls Anthony even closer, wanting to show both him and himself that neither of them is alone anymore. By now Anthony is almost sitting in his lap. “How does it feel?”
“Shit, I don’t know.” Anthony lifts his hand and cups Loki’s jaw, watching his thumb while he strokes his skin. He thinks about it, and after a moment his confused expression clears. “Right. It feels right.”
“Yes,” Loki agrees. It is right. He’s been waiting for this, for Anthony for so long that he half feels like he’s dreaming. And Anthony has been waiting for him, too, although he didn’t even know it. That thought doesn’t sit well with Loki. “I'm sorry I didn’t come to Midgard sooner. I should have at least considered the possibility that you were here, considering that Thor found Jane here decades ago, but here in Midgard, Guides are so very rare. Sentinels even more so. Most don't even know what they are.”
“Yeah, I can confirm that,” Anthony deadpans. “How come Thor never explained?”
Loki lifts a shoulder. “It's a weakness. When their Guide isn't close by, a Sentinel can be distracted and overwhelmed very easily. Things work so differently here in Midgard, my brother decided to keep it to himself.”
“Okay,” Anthony says slowly. “I'm not sure if I really - understand, but… fine. What's going to happen now?”
“We will need to be alone for some time so that we can finish bonding.” He glances at their surroundings. “We can stay here, it's safe enough, I think. Someone would need to bring us food, maybe Jane can -”
“I can have everything delivered,” Anthony says. “And the kitchen upstairs is stocked, anyway, so we - wait. No. Doom.”
“Excuse me?”
“Doctor Doom.You're here to help us defeat him, remember? He’ll burn New York to the ground if we don't do something, and that soon. We can't just -”
“You want to fight,” Loki realizes, and the thought alone makes him feel sick.
Anthony raises a brow at him. “Problem?”
“I am going to kill everyone who tries to lay a hand on you.”
Anthony blinks. “Come again?”
“I can't help it,” Loki says, defensive. He doesn't manage to look at Anthony, and the words spill out of him without his permission. “Instinctively, my first priority is and always will be your safety, because I need you. If you got hurt, I -” He swallows, shakes his head. “I cannot take that risk, not now. I only just found you. Once our bond is strong enough, maybe in a week or two, we can -”
“Loki, we don't have a week. We just don't.”
“I need to keep you safe.”
Anthony looks at him for a long moment, and Loki is getting the feeling that he is doing something wrong. He tries to stay calm, to tell himself that Anthony simply doesn’t know how this works, because how could he? But Loki is so scared of losing him again that everything else is irrelevant. Still, he doesn't say anything else, forces himself to wait until Anthony speaks up again.
“We only just met," Anthony says, his tone gentle but firm. “And you don’t know me, so I’m cutting you some slack here. But I can keep myself safe just fine, alright? I fought in dozens of battles, and I don’t need your protection.”
That stings. Loki grits his teeth. A retort is already waiting on his tongue, something harsh and sharp, but Anthony shakes his head and puts his hands on Loki’s chest, fingers clinging to the leather of Loki’s jacket. He calms Loki down instinctively, both with the touch and in an entirely different way Loki can’t even really place - he just knows that Anthony meant no offence, that he doesn’t want to get rid of Loki’s protectiveness, he just wants to make clear that he isn’t some kind of damsel in distress. He doesn’t tell Loki so with words, not even telepathically - although Loki is sure that Anthony will be able to do that, in time -, it’s more of a feeling, a quiet reassurance that trickles through their still weak bond over to Loki. He isn’t sure if Anthony even knows he’s doing it, but he does seem to notice that the irritation that flared up in Loki already lost its edges.
“Still,” Anthony continues, thoughtful now. “I know what you mean, okay? It's weird and I don't get it, but I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you, either. And believe me, I'd much rather stay here with you than go and fight a wanna-be wizard, but I don't - I just don't think we have the choice right now. They need us out there."
“I can’t guarantee their safety,” Loki says, quiet and urgent. “And it's likely that you wouldn't be of great use, either."
Oh, that wasn’t the right thing to say; Loki sees that at once. Anthony quirks a brow, challenging Loki to say more. The look in his eyes is hard. “Now what's that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it,” Loki says, aware that it sounds like he's pleading, but unable to do anything about it. “Since you saw me, have you been able to concentrate on anything else? Because I certainly haven't. And when the others were still in the room with us, could you think about anything else except how much you wanted them gone?”
Anthony doesn't say anything, he just looks at Loki, and the displeased expression on his face tells Loki that he’s right.
“It’s nothing we can simply switch off,” Loki adds quietly, “or ignore. I’m sorry, but it would be safer for everyone if we stayed here.”
Anthony stays quiet for a long while. It's clear that he doesn't like this at all, and Loki doesn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand he's never gotten along well with Guides who simply follow their Sentinels around everywhere, too focused on their mates' wellbeing to have any wants or ambitions themselves, and seemingly that won't be a problem with Anthony, which is a relief.
On other hand not being his Guide's first priority feels awfully much like a rejection.
"Okay," Anthony says finally, sounding a little grim. Loki doesn't like it. "I've no idea how this stuff works, so if you say it's better for everyone if we stay here, we'll stay here."
Loki breathes a sigh of relief, but Anthony isn't done.
"We can't just leave them hanging, though. We don't fight, fine, but there's something else we can do. No, have to do."
Anthony makes an odd hand movement, and suddenly there's something hovering in the air in front of the sofa, something oblong and light blue that reminds Loki a little of his own illusions. He stares at it, and keeps staring as Anthony moves it with his fingers, tapping and swiping until it shows a crisp picture of a stone wall, covered in drawings and letterings Loki can't really make sense of.
"Doom's been dropping these weird symbol thingies everywhere in the city," Anthony says, tapping a point on the wall. The symbol thingy he's talking about lights up. “We don't really know what they are, only that they react when somebody walks past them, and each of them differently. So far we've had explosions, quicksand, a freaking avalanche in Chinatown, a flock of really aggressive birds that would put Hitchcock to shame - it’s like Kinder surprise, but the unpleasant magic version.”
Loki starts a mental list of things he doesn’t understand and puts three words on it right away - Chinatown, Hitchcock, Kinder surprise -, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask about it right now because Anthony isn’t finished.
“We had to evacuate whole quarters,” he says somewhat darkly. “So far only two people died, I guess we’ve been lucky. We’ve been trying to find a way to stop it, but we just can’t get rid of the symbols, and new ones appear every day. They’re keeping us so busy that we can’t even start to track Doom down.”
It sounds like New York is a very dangerous city at the moment, so Loki is very glad that his Guide isn’t there anymore, but also very angry at that Doom person for putting Anthony and everything he cares about in danger. Because it’s clear that Anthony does care about this, and not quite in the way Loki expected. He is used to warriors fighting for fame and glory, but he’d be surprised if Anthony’s motivations were similar. He’s not a Guide himself and therefore not an empath, but Anthony makes his emotions very clear, and the force of them makes Loki’s own chest ache when it rushes toward him through their bond. More prominent than almost everything else, there’s the need to help, mingled with guilt and a hint of shame - which Loki doesn’t know the reason for, at least not yet; he’s not very good at reading emotions like this -, and there is anger, determination, protectiveness. The latter three are things Loki would expect from a Sentinel, not from a Guide, but it makes pride flicker up in Loki, anyway.
Anthony is a good man. Better than Loki, certainly; if not for his Guide (well. and perhaps Thor), he wouldn’t really care about what Doom does to New York and its people. But yes, he does care about Anthony, and if Anthony wants and needs him to help, Loki isn’t about to hesitate.
“They are sigils,” he explains, studying the screen in front of them. “Does Doom have any relations to Alfheimr?”
“Elves, right?” Anthony asks. “As far as I know, he doesn’t.”
“Well, either he must have had help, or maybe he found a book about elvish magic,” Loki says. “Either way, the sigils are elvish magic; something a novice might manage. They aren’t difficult to get rid of if you know how and have a little bit of magic talent. Thor can do it, I think, but he’ll have to use a different reverse spell for every type of sigil, and I’m certain he doesn’t know them.” He thinks about it for a moment, frowning. “I need to see them all, then I can write down the instructions.”
Anthony perks up at that, determined. “Okay, sounds like a plan. I’ve got drones everywhere in the city, looking for the - symbol things. Sigils. I can show you them all, come on.”
He grabs Loki’s hand and pulls him up, then leads him over to what seems to be a desk. On it, there are several more illusions like the earlier one, only that these look very solid. Anthony makes Loki sit down and bends over his shoulder, his hands already making a board with letters and numbers light up on the desk. He taps away on it and the screens in front of them become alive, and soon Loki can see the pictures he needs.
“Okay,” Anthony says again, and on another screen appears something that looks like a piece of paper. “You can write here. Do you know how to use a keyboard?”
Keyboard. Loki raises his brows and looks down at the letters on the board in front of him. “I think I can figure it out,” he says dryly.
Anthony grins, then they get to work. He helps Loki with the technology now and then, and Loki can’t help but be impressed. Thor has mentioned that Tony Stark is considered to be a genius, but the way Anthony thinks and talks and handles these utensils reminds Loki of a mage. He assumes that this is only a tiny taste of everything Anthony is capable of and gods, Loki is hungry for more.
It takes a long while. When they are finally done, Loki’s patience has long started to waver, but Anthony’s hands are on his shoulder and he keeps burying his nose in Loki’s hair, seeking contact Loki is more than willing to provide. It’s equal parts helpful and distracting, because it grounds Loki and helps him concentrate, but there is also nothing he wants more than to turn off all these screens and focus on Anthony.
Thankfully, Anthony seems to feel the same, because as soon as they are done with the last sigil, he reaches out to make the screens go black. He lets out a sigh and rests his chin on the top of Loki’s head. “Finally,” he mutters. “I think I’m not willing to concentrate on anything else today.”
Loki has to smile. He leans his head back so that Anthony has to lift his, and Loki looks up at him and tries to deal with the fierce sense of belonging that is surging up in him. Anthony. Loki doesn’t know him yet, not really, but he knows that he won’t let go of him again.
“It’s odd,” Anthony says quietly, a slight crease between his eyes. “I feel… I can tell what you’re feeling, I think.”
“You’re a Guide,” Loki replies. “You’re my Guide. You will always be able to tell what I am feeling, but in time you will learn to shut me out. I’ve been told that it can be both distracting and annoying.”
Anthony’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head. One of his hands wanders from Loki’s shoulder down to his chest. “It’s very… weak. Just an idea, you know? But I can definitely sense something.”
“It will probably get stronger in the coming days.”
“Hm. Can you - I mean, does it work the other way around, too, or is it a one-way street?”
“At the moment, it depends on what you are willing to let me see,” Loki says. “Or sense, rather. It doesn’t come as naturally to me as it comes to you, but in time I might be able to use our bond in the same way. For now, if you project something -”
“Project something? How do I do that?”
Loki raises a brow. “You have done it already. Twice, in fact.”
“I didn’t even notice,” Anthony says, still frowning. He doesn’t understand, and Loki can tell that he doesn’t like not understanding things.
“You will learn,” Loki promises. “We both will.”
“I should be bombarding you with questions,” Anthony murmurs and stands up straight, rubbing his eyes. “But I feel like I can’t think straight, it’s fucking annoying. Let’s - do you want to eat something? There’s food upstairs, and a bed. A nap sounds like a good idea. Why am I so tired?”
“Because bonding is tiring,” Loki says. “A nap does sound like a good idea.”
Anthony nods and takes his hand again. He seems to be as eager for contact as Loki is. Loki suggests they skip the food and go straight to bed, because Loki needs to touch Anthony just as much and as definitely as he needs air, and food is rather irrelevant at the moment. But Anthony is adamant.
“You’re hungry,” he says, like it’s a fact. In reaction to Loki’s raised brow, he shrugs and adds, “I can tell. I think. Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.”
Anthony laughs. “Is that a Sentinel thing?”
“Yes.”
“Explains why Thor’s always eating. And why he’s so big.” Anthony glances at him. “You’re skinny, though.”
Loki knows that Guides worry about their Sentinels easily and a lot, and he doesn’t want Anthony to worry, even though it does make a spark of fondness and satisfaction flare up in his chest. “I’m fine,” he says warmly, and Anthony accepts it with a nod.
They arrive in what looks like the kitchen, and Loki frowns in reaction to the new smells. The kitchen doesn’t smell like Anthony as the earlier room and the rest of the house did, and Loki wraps himself around Anthony from behind before he even knows he’s doing so. He rubs his nose against the back of Anthony’s neck, breathing him in. He smells so warm.
Anthony snorts, but leans back against him. “You alright?”
Loki hums. “Yes, quite. I simply need to be…” He pauses. “Close.”
“Okay. So it’s not just me being - I don’t know, needy?”
“Hm?”
Anthony squirms a little, and Loki can see the tips of his ears go pink. He can smell it, too - embarrassment always smells a little sour - and hear that Anthony’s heartbeat is elevated. Loki holds him tighter, and after a moment Anthony says, “I want to be close to you, too. It’s like - an itch.” He lifts his hand and pats his chest. “Right here. God, that’s cheesy. But -”
“It’s the bond,” Loki explains, his lips brushing Anthony’s red ear. “It’s forming, and it needs us to be close. There is no reason to be embarrassed.”
Anthony chuckles, a little nervous. “I thought you can’t tell what I’m feeling.”
“Not in the same way as you,” Loki says, smiling. “But, and I do believe I told you this, I have very good senses. And I can sense that you’re blushing.”
“And I can sense that you’re enjoying this too much,” Anthony says, but he doesn’t sound actually bothered. No, his voice is warm, amused, even when he adds, “Can I open the fridge now or do you want to keep playing octopus?”
“Yes,” Loki says, even though he doesn’t know what an octopus is. He adds it to his list and also makes a mental note that he has to read up on… well, everything about Midgard.
“Fine,” Anthony says, still amused. He does manage to open the fridge, which is apparently where he keeps his food. Anthony stares into it for a moment, frowning. “Loki?”
“Yes?”
“It’s coming to my attention that I can’t cook. I’m horrible at it. Why am I horrible at it?”
Loki blinks and rests his chin on Anthony’s shoulder, peering into the fridge as well. It’s full of things he doesn’t even recognize. “Do you cook often?”
“No.”
“Well, that might be the explanation.”
“You’re hungry, though,” Anthony says, then sighs. “God, I feel like a mother hen. Soon I’ll wrap you up in blankets and feed you soup. Is that normal?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Great. How about scrambled eggs? I think I can manage scrambled eggs. And toast. Have you had toast before?”
“No.”
“Time for toast, then.”
So he makes scrambled eggs and toast. They take the plates to the bedroom, which also doesn’t smell as much as Anthony as the first room did, but Loki is actually glad about it. It just means that the room will smell of them both very soon, and that makes him giddy.
They make themselves comfortable on the bed, Loki leaning against the headboard with Anthony right next to him, his legs in Loki’s lap. Anthony is already eating a forkful of scrambled eggs, but Loki ignores his plate in favor of reaching out and loosening Anthony’s tie. Anthony lifts his chin and lets him, but he does raise a questioning brow.
“I want you to be comfortable,” Loki says and pulls the tie over Anthony’s hand. He tosses it aside and proceeds to open the first few buttons of Anthony’s shirt. “This doesn’t look comfortable.”
“It’s fine,” Anthony says, sounding like he is trying not to laugh. He also grabs Loki’s wrist to keep him from opening more buttons, which makes Loki frown. “And you don’t look comfortable, either, you know. Though leather is a really good look on you.”
Loki feels like something is up, something to do with Loki trying to undress him and Anthony not wanting to be undressed, but he decides not to push. He has no right to demand something Anthony isn’t ready for. And besides, the praise distracts him a little; the thought that Anthony enjoys looking at him is a very good one. Still, Anthony is right, Loki is used to wearing his armor but it isn’t comfortable at all, so he uses magic to change his clothes and then takes his plate. When he looks at Anthony again, he is staring at Loki, his mouth hanging open.
Loki idly begins to eat. “Didn’t your mother tell you to keep your mouth closed when you’re chewing?”
“She probably did,” Anthony agrees, talking with his mouth ful, anyway. Then, “shit, you’re a wizard.”
“Mage.”
“You can do magic.”
“I was under the impression that you knew that.”
“I did, but - I was distracted, okay? Oh my god. I am going to bombard you with questions.”
Loki looks at him, amused as well and… pleased. Definitely pleased. “You are interested in learning about magic?”
“Are you kidding? Duh. It’s magic. I’ve been wanting to learn everything about it for ages, but Thor hasn’t been very helpful, and who else am I supposed to ask, Doctor Doom? Yeah, right. You,” he points at Loki with his fork, “are going to get very tired of answering my questions very soon, and I don’t even care.”
He’s intelligent. Kind. Curious. Loki has to avert his eyes, he looks down at his plate. “I could never grow tired of you.”
Anthony slowly lets his fork sink. His eyes are narrowed; he’s concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, I can tell. What’s wrong?”
Loki sighs and pokes around in his portion of eggs, thinking about it. It’s difficult to narrow it down, mostly because he can’t even begin to make sense of his emotions. He’s happy, that he knows, and relieved, but there is also…
Gods, he’s terrified. The fear crawls up his chest and into his throat and proceeds to sit there in the form of a lump that makes it difficult to speak.
“This is a huge change,” he manages finally, not looking at Anthony. “For both of us. And it is… definite.”
Anthony keeps looking at him carefully. “You mean irrevocable.”
“Yes. The bond will not go away. From now on, it is you and me, and it will always be you and me, and I wish to make you happy.”
Anthony takes his time as he considers that, and then he says, “That’s sweet. And a bit scary. No, really, I get why you’re scared, I think I’m scared, too, mostly because I don’t know how this is supposed to work. But we’ll figure it out, okay? I’m good at figuring things out. Now eat up, I want to cuddle.”
Loki takes both of their plates and puts them on the ground next to the bed, ignoring Anthony’s weak protests. “We can eat later,” he tells him, and Anthony sighs and gives in.
“Okay, fine. But let me change quickly, alright?”
“Of course.”
Anthony smiles and leaves first the bed and then the room. He leaves the door open, thankfully, allowing Loki to catch a glimpse of rows of clothes. That must be Anthony’s dressing room. Loki can hear him move around, the rustling of his clothes as he changes them, even his heartbeat. It calms him somewhat, but still he desperately wants to follow him everywhere he goes. He thinks that maybe they both need a moment of privacy, though. Well, that is what he thinks in the first ten seconds, then he starts to get uncomfortable because he does not want to be further apart from his Guide than absolutely necessary, and this is very unnecessary.
He is about to leave the bed when Anthony returns, dressed in loose, soft looking pants and a shirt with short sleeves. Looking at his arms makes Loki want to undress him completely, but he keeps himself in check and merely reaches out for Anthony, inviting him back to the bed. Anthony obliges his unspoken wish and soon Loki can tuck himself against Anthony’s side, half lying on top of him with his face buried in the curve of his neck.
Anthony’s heartbeat is calm and steady, but there is something else that catches Loki’s attention. The humming sound he heard earlier, shortly after they first touched. It’s been there the whole time, but Loki has been blocking it out mostly because he knows it’s nothing dangerous. Although he can’t tell how he knows that, which now worries him a little. He lifts his head again and tries to figure out where the sound is coming from, exactly; it takes him less than a second because the origin is literally right next to his ear.
“What is this?” he asks, and he wants to touch Anthony’s chest, but Anthony’s hand is faster and takes his wrist.
“It’s -” Anthony says, but stops. After a moment, he manages, “It’s nothing dangerous,” as if to echo Loki’s thoughts.
Loki is very good at telling when somebody lies, and not only because he's a Sentinel. He scowls at Anthony. "You don't want me to know."
"No, I -" Anthony takes a breath. "It's just a difficult topic."
"Difficult how?" Loki sits up, going from annoyed to worried within seconds. He looks at Anthony’s chest, eyes narrowed; he can see the outline of something round pressing against the fabric. Maybe he was wrong, maybe - if his Guide is in danger because of whatever is happily humming away in his chest, Loki will rip it out and heal him right now. He forces himself to ignore his instincts and stay calm, for now. "Is it dangerous?"
Anthony sighs and props himself up on his elbows, not quite managing to hold Loki’s gaze. “Depends on how you define ‘dangerous’, really.”
Loki likes this less and less. “Well, how would you define it?”
“I’d like to postpone this conversation, okay? Just until -”
“I won’t stop thinking about it just because we postpone this conversation,” Loki cuts him off, impatience and worry making it sound sharper than intended. Anthony tenses up even more, and Loki feels horrible at once. He swallows and tries to soften his voice when he adds, “Anthony, please.”
That seems to work. With another sigh, Anthony sits up as well, fiddling around with the hem of his shirt. “I feel like this might make you freak out,” he says carefully. “So just, uh, keep in mind that I’m fine, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Loki says flatly.
“Thanks.” Anthony’s tone is just as dry. “So, uh… well, four years ago, I was… in an accident. Only that it wasn’t an accident, it was an ambush, and a bomb I’d built blew up in my face and I almost died, but I didn’t. But there’s still shrapnel in my chest and this,” he taps his chest, “keeps it from reaching my heart. It also powers my suits.”
“Your suits.”
“My armor,” Anthony explains. “Iron Man. You know I’m Iron Man, right?”
Oh. Yes. Thor mentioned something like that. “Yes.” Loki glances at Anthony’s chest again. “Who ambushed you?”
“They’re dead.”
Loki is inclined to drag the souls of whoever it was out of hel and kill them again himself. “Does it hurt you?”
“It’s fine, really. I’m used to it.”
“Does it,” Loki repeats very slowly, “hurt you.”
“Jesus, you’re stubborn. No, it doesn’t hurt me. Most of the time, anyway. It’s not comfortable and yeah, sometimes I’m in a bit of pain because of it, but mostly it’s alright. Better than dying at least. Can we stop talking about this now?”
He’s annoyed. Obviously. Still, Loki isn’t yet willing to let the topic go. “May I see?”
Anthony sends him a look that is very nearly a glare. “You won’t shut up about it until I show it to you, will you?”
“Probably not, no.”
Anthony rolls his eyes and then pulls up his shirt - quickly, as if he’s scared he will change his mind otherwise. Now Loki notices that he is actually wearing two shirts on top of each other, and now that Loki can see his chest, he can guess why. The round thing is glowing light blue; Anthony probably wanted to hide that. It is indeed humming, albeit very quietly, and Loki knows without asking more about it that Anthony built it, and that it is proof of his brilliance. It smells… a little bit like copper, but also sweet, and there’s something in it that almost feels alive - in the way Loki’s magic feels alive. He cocks his head to one side and just looks at it for a moment, fighting down another wave of anger when he sees the scars surrounding the metal. Putting that thing in there must have hurt terribly, and Loki doubts that it doesn’t still hurt. It must at least hinder Anthony’s breathing.
“If you are ever in pain,” Loki says, “no matter for what reason, please tell me. Yes?”
Anthony shrugs lightly. “Sure.”
“Thank you.” Loki reaches out and carefully pulls Anthony’s shirts back down; it’s not hard to notice that Anthony isn’t all too comfortable showing Loki his chest, and even though that hurts a bit, Loki understands. Some things simply take time. “And thank you for showing me, too. I apologize if I got too insistent, but I…” He trails off and pushes Anthony onto his back so that Loki can huddle up against him again. He presses his nose against the soft skin of Anthony’s neck and takes a deep breath. “I can’t stand the thought of you hurting.”
“You really mean that,” Anthony says, quiet and disbelieving.
“Of course.” Loki presses his lips against Anthony’s skin. “I told you, your safety is my first priority.”
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
Loki thinks about it for a moment. He doesn’t understand it himself, not really - nobody does. Mates are mates because they fit, because they can give each other what they want and need. He doesn’t know Anthony, no, but he likes what he’s learned so far, and he’s eager to learn everything else there is to know. It’s strange, wanting that connection to another being; Loki has always been happy to stay as far away from other people as possible. Now that he’s met Anthony, though, he feels like the two of them can never be close enough.
“I need you,” he says finally. “I can’t remember ever being in control of my senses before, and you make it possible. But you are also… more than that. Not just something I need, but a person I want to know.” He kisses Anthony’s neck again, can’t really get enough of it. “In every way you’ll let me.”
“I barely even know anything about you,” Anthony murmurs. His hand is in Loki’s hair, suddenly, fingers raking through the strands. “But I want to know everything. I really want to.”
Loki only hums in agreement, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else now that they’re so close and Anthony is touching him. Anthony stays quiet, too, just keeps stroking Loki’s hair. Loki listens to his heartbeat; it’s the most soothing lullaby he has ever heard.
They will deal with everything else tomorrow. For now, this is enough.