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Loki knew that he should have picked something else.
Anything else.
He knew that it wasn’t fair to ask this of him– not when Anthony didn’t know exactly what it meant. But… Loki also knew that it might be his only chance, the only time he might ever be able to know what Anthony’s lips would feel like pressed against his own.
It was something he had yearned to experience for months now, something that had haunted his fantasies and plagued his dreams. Anthony had crept up on him, had wormed his way into Loki’s heart with witty quips, clever plans, and an attitude which refused to give in to anyone– especially not a god from another planet. Anthony had always been a challenge, and Loki had barely begun to admit that he saw the mortal as a friend before he realised that he was hurtling toward something so much deeper than that.
But of course, nothing could ever work out between them. Anthony was mortal, Anthony was a hero, and Loki… was neither of those things. Oh, he no longer fought for selfish ideals, but that didn’t mean he was as altruistic as the other Avengers, and he’d never be a shining star like Rogers or Thor. Anthony would live with the speed and energy of a being who had only a century to revel in the pleasures of life– while Loki took the slow path, trudging along behind, always remaining the same.
Loki adored Anthony’s turbulent nature, but he knew that he would never be able to match it.
They had become friends– good friends, even. But nothing more. And Loki refused to let his own desires get in the way of what he had managed to find with that incredible man.
Yet… that didn’t stop Loki from wanting.
And when the opportunity arose, when Anthony offered Loki a favour in exchange for the magical protections Loki had laced through his suit – something Loki was more than happy to do regardless, of course – there was only the one thing that came to Loki’s mind.
“Would you kiss me?” he asked, giving the simple question no embellishment, and no explanation. Loki tried not to hold his breath, knowing that was something Anthony would likely notice, but the swooping sensation of falling through an abyss of nervousness remained, nonetheless.
Thankfully, the reaction he gained only suggested that Anthony thought he was making a joke.
“Want to see what all the fuss is about, do you?” Anthony asked, his lips drawing Loki’s gaze as they pulled into a smirk. “Well hey, look at that. Even ancient gods want a piece of Tony Stark.”
The tone with which the words were said almost made Loki want to admit that was not the case, but even if he were so needlessly reckless he would not have been given a chance before—
“All right then, Lokes, I did say anything. Come ‘ere.” Then Anthony was stepping forward, tilting up his chin and sliding his fingers through Loki’s hair—
And then their lips pressed together in a kiss.
It felt like more than Loki could ever have imagined, a surge of warmth, a spark of excitement, a pulse of something deep inside his chest. Loki’s eyes fell closed as he clutched Anthony close against him, revelling in every touch.
Anthony had been at arm’s length for so long, his touches barely felt in back-slaps or friendly hugs. Holding him now was both torment and temptation– and Loki had never been able to resist temptation.
He cupped Anthony’s cheeks and though he felt the man startle, Loki did not recognise it as a warning. He kissed the mortal with longing – with the need to capture some of Anthony’s brightness and hold it close.
Loki had one chance, and in his moment of weakness he did what he should never have done. Loki kissed Anthony with all the feeling once closely guarded in his heart.
And for a man who knew the distinction between indifference, lust, and love, it did not take Anthony long to understand what Loki had tried to hide.
Loki didn’t notice, not at first– not with the feel of Anthony in his arms and the taste of the man he coveted on his lips. The scrape of facial hair was perfect, and the unexpected softness of his brunet strands that caressed his fingertips was wondrous.
Loki, for a few moments, glimpsed the impossible gates of Valhalla.
But, Loki Liesmith was never welcome there.
Although the push was light and could not hope to move him, the truth it represented could have felled him more easily than any blow.
Anthony’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back.
Loki froze. He didn’t open his eyes. He tried to pretend, no matter how fruitless, that it was not real.
Another push; gentle but firm.
The gates were closed, his time was up.
Loki let the next push move him and he stepped away, he let Anthony go and he opened his eyes. Anthony’s warm, laughing expression was gone. His face was pinched and his motions wary.
He knows.
Loki’s lips parted. He was never without a lie; a means of avoiding the truth or the blame.
Yet, when he looked at Anthony, only three words slipped free.
“I am sorry.”
A glimmer of shock threaded through Anthony’s expression.
But, where apologies fell rarely from Loki’s lips, he had no other option to offer.
I am sorry I took more than you offered.
I am sorry I did not explain.
I am sorry to lay one more form of guilt on your heart.
I am sorry that I have fallen in love with you.
He did not hold Anthony’s gaze. He lowered his eyes; knowing that nothing he longed for would appear, no matter how hard he looked or wished.
He took a step back and Anthony did not speak or stop him. Loki turned on his heel and continued to walk. His footsteps echoed and Anthony did not call for him.
Anthony did not tell him no, and yet somehow the finality of the silence hurt him even more.
Loki’s hands were already shaking by the time he made it to the door, and it was but a few steps down the hallway that the tears scratching at his eyes finally broke free. He wiped his sleeve across them in a manner that was almost angry– because he should have seen this coming. He’d only brought this upon himself.
He'd known all along that Anthony didn’t feel the same way, after all. This was hardly news.
It was a fact he had lived with so very long now, and nothing had changed. Not Anthony’s feelings, not his own…
Well, except, of course, the fact that Anthony would now—
“Loki?”
Loki’s gaze lurched up in a harsh jerk, the fact that someone had come after him registering a moment before the fact that the voice was not the one he so desperately wanted to hear.
Thor’s expression was aching with concern, his blue eyes wide beneath furrowed brows. He stepped forward cautiously, as one might a wounded animal, and the sight of it had Loki trying to straighten.
He wouldn’t be broken by this. He was stronger than that, he was– he was a god. Anthony was just—
“Tony called for me to find you,” Thor explained, speaking slowly. “But neither he nor JARVIS would say why. Is something wrong?”
Loki’s breath left him in sharp and sudden puff, and the sound was accompanied by the cracking of his heart.
Loki had been wrong.
He was broken already.
Whenever Loki was feeling down, it was always Anthony, his best friend, who came to find and comfort him. Never could another soothe Loki’s pain to the same effect—
And now Anthony would never offer it again.
He’d sent Thor instead, and the message could not have come across any clearer.
Anthony could not look past the knowledge he had gained, and nothing would ever be the same between them again.
And that… well, that tore at every fibre of Loki’s being with the same kind of intensity with which he’d felt his love.
“Oh, Loki,” Thor whispered, dashing forward to catch Loki in his arms as he swayed. And rather than struggle and pull away as Loki normally would, as he had ever since his fall, ever since Thor’s embrace began to feel restraining rather than cheering, Loki found himself curling against his brother’s chest and seeking comfort from the only one now willing to give it.
Thor’s shirt was damp in moments, Loki burying his face into it as the pain wracked through his body in harsh, unyielding sobs that tore through his throat like nails. His fingers clutched at the material so tightly it began to tear, and the hard strokes of Thor’s hands against his back was the only thing keeping him from falling out of his mind entirely.
Thor’s reaction made one thing impossibly clear. Thor had known all along. Perhaps, then, the others had as well.
Loki had never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it would seem that his love for Anthony had been so deep that it had been impossible to hide– impossible, from everyone bar Anthony himself. And perhaps Anthony would have one day noticed, or perhaps… he wouldn’t have.
Perhaps Loki could have stood at Anthony’s side as his friend for years to come.
But Loki had been greedy.
And now, he had nothing at all.