He curled long fingers around hers and dropped her hand back down, sternly. ”I am no fool,” he murmured low, and began working at the buckles of her armour. ”What you did for me was beyond anything…” he unlaced her boots, slipping them off delicately. “No one has ever been so strong at my side….” He slipped off her bracers, one by one. ”I am not sure why I even asked you to come with me. And yet I knew that you would. I hardly know you, Summer, yet I knew, somehow…” he gently lifted her up as he took off her chest piece and lay her back down under him. He felt his blood rushing through his veins and it was unnerving.
“Why would you do that for me? Did you expect a grand reward, perhaps?” he slid his fingers through a piece of her hair, toying with her to lessen the heaviness of the moment.
“You asked.” Her smile was simple and sweet, unclouded by any other thing. “You showed me your pain, and you asked for help.” She snuggled a bit deeper into the blankets, letting her arms flop wide. “It’s what I do, Loki.” With a quick touch of fingers on his, she let him feel what she was feeling. “I care.
“I’m not really powerful or anything, I just … care. About people. About their hurting. You’re free now.”
“That is a powerful thing. It is also dangerous, you know,” he said, and ghosted his fingers over her cheek. ”You know this.”
He was mesmerized then by how her eyes seemed to glow faintly, as if backlit. The room was dim and she was a flame even so. To have someone care for him…to fight for him, beside him, by his command…it was more than humbling. It was crippling. He had no idea how to handle it. How could he ever thank her for caring?
Leaning down to her lips, he stole a small, careful kiss.
Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.
No, the surprise came from his motivation.
The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.
Loki fought back a surge of panic when he felt himself giving into her embrace. Why would she think she still owed him anything? It was wrong to take so much. He felt wrong. But he could not stop himself gathering her up to him, deepening the kiss. She felt like fire spreading through him, warm and uncontrollable. When his hands slid under her shirt and made contact with smooth skin, he pulled back as if he had really been burned.
He drew in a sharp intake of breath, battling himself. Too many battles for one evening, he thought bitterly. Trying desperately to focus on her eyes, all he could see, suddenly, was the life leaving Thanos as he twisted the spear in his heart. The blood. The look of utter torture on Summer’s face as she saved his life…
“I cannot…I cannot make you do this…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.
Summer gaped as Loki backed away in haste. Too many responses crowded her mouth, jostling for escape. All she managed was a pitiful “aah?”
Staring up at the ceiling, lost in shadows, she tried to breathe, tried not to curl around the hurt. Rejected, again. No matter what she did, no matter what she said. Swallowing past the lump of incipient tears in her throat, she rolled over on her side, trying to hide her face, and murmured, carefully, “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask for something to eat?”