Loki Laufeyson

The corridor was almost offensively quiet.

Loki had been perfectly content with the solitude—until he sensed someone approaching.

His gaze shifted toward the reflection in the tall window before he turned.

And then he saw him.

Something in Loki's expression changed.

It was subtle. A fraction of a second where his usual amusement faltered, replaced by unmistakable interest.

His eyes lingered.

Far longer than politeness required.

"Hm."

A slow smile curved across his lips.

"I don't believe we've met."

Loki stepped away from the window, his movements unhurried and deliberate. He approached until only a small distance remained between them, stopping just short of making the closeness intimate.

Though the look in his eyes already was.

"Curious."

His voice had dropped into something quieter.

He studied him with an intensity that felt almost indecent, his gaze briefly flickering over his features before returning to his eyes.

"Usually, when someone catches my attention..."

He paused, amusement deepening in his expression.

"...I know precisely why."

Another beat of silence.

"Yet you appear to be an exception."

Loki tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to decipher something written beneath the surface.

His fingers flexed once at his side.

An almost imperceptible gesture.

Perhaps he was resisting the temptation to reach out.

"Tell me," he murmured, leaning just slightly closer, "do you always have this effect on people?"

The question carried a teasing edge, but there was something warmer underneath it.

Something dangerously sincere.

Loki's gaze dropped for the briefest moment before returning to his eyes.

"And before you accuse me of arrogance..."

His smile became softer.

"...I'm quite aware that I'm not exactly immune to it myself."

He let the silence stretch between them.

Then, with a quiet chuckle, Loki stepped half a pace closer.

"You're rather distracting."

The admission seemed to surprise even him.

His expression softened, the usual sharpness giving way to something almost vulnerable before he masked it again.

"That is inconvenient."

A pause.

"But..."

His eyes held his.

"...I find I don't particularly mind."

For once, Loki didn't seem interested in leaving.

He simply remained there, close enough for the tension between them to become impossible to ignore, his attention fixed entirely on him.

"Now," he whispered, the ghost of a smile returning, "I wonder how long it will take before you realize just how interested I've become."

The night over Asgard was unusually still.

Loki stood alone on the balcony, one hand resting against the golden railing as he watched the stars scattered across the endless sky. The palace behind him was quiet now, most of its halls dimmed for the night.

Yet he wasn't truly alone.

He could feel his lover nearby.

A soft smile touched Loki's lips before he even turned.

"There you are."

His voice was gentler than it ever was when he spoke to anyone else.

He turned toward him, his expression immediately softening. The sharpness that usually lived in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a warmth reserved exclusively for the man he loved.

Loki crossed the balcony slowly.

He reached for his lover's hand, threading their fingers together with an almost absent-minded familiarity. His thumb brushed gently over his knuckles.

For a while, he simply looked at him.

No teasing.

No clever remarks.

Just affection.

"You know," Loki murmured, "I've spent a remarkable amount of my life believing that I could predict precisely how everything would unfold."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"Power. Thrones. Betrayals. Wars..."

His gaze lowered briefly to their joined hands.

"And then you happened."

There was a softness to his voice now that would have been almost unrecognizable to anyone else.

"You ruined all my plans."

His lips curved upward.

"And I find that I rather adore you for it."

Loki lifted their joined hands, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles.

Then he hesitated.

For perhaps the first time in a very long time, Loki Laufeyson looked nervous.

He released a quiet breath and looked toward the stars.

"I have been attempting to find the perfect way to ask you something."

His eyes returned to his lover.

"I considered something grand. Something worthy of Asgard. Perhaps an entire banquet, musicians, a thousand candles..."

He smiled faintly.

"But then I realized that would make it about spectacle."

Loki stepped closer.

"I don't want spectacle."

His free hand rose, gently touching his lover's cheek.

"I want you."

The words were simple, but there was no hesitation behind them.

"I want mornings with you. Quiet evenings. Arguments over utterly ridiculous things. I want to know that when centuries have passed and everyone else has changed, you'll still be there."

His thumb brushed softly along his cheek.

"And selfishly..."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I want to be the person you come home to."

Loki swallowed, his gaze never leaving his lover's.

Then, slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee.

For once, there was no trick behind the gesture.

No illusion.

No hidden motive.

Just Loki.

He reached into his coat and withdrew a small ring, elegant and unmistakably Asgardian, its surface catching the starlight.

His expression softened into something almost vulnerable.

"I love you."

A pause.

"I have loved you for longer than I ever intended to love anyone."

He held the ring between his fingers.

"So, my love..."

Loki's eyes searched his face.

"Will you marry me?"

The door clicked shut behind them.

Loki's attention immediately settled on his lover.

There was something almost unfair about the way he looked at him—standing there beneath the dim golden light, dressed for the evening, completely captivating in Loki's eyes.

Loki's gaze slowly traveled over him before returning to his face.

"You have been staring at me all evening," he murmured, a knowing smile appearing on his lips. "Though I confess, my handsome lover, that I have been doing much the same."

He crossed the room with deliberate steps.

When he reached him, Loki stopped close enough for their warmth to mingle. His hand rose, fingers gently tracing along the man's jaw.

"Gods, you're beautiful."

The admission came softer than his usual teasing.

His thumb lingered against his cheek as Loki looked into his eyes.

"You know precisely what you do to me, don't you?"

A quiet, breathless laugh escaped him.

Loki leaned closer, his forehead resting against his lover's.

"I spent the entire evening trying to behave."

His smile turned mischievous.

"Clearly, I have failed."

His fingers slipped gently from his lover's jaw to his neck, resting there with unmistakable tenderness.

"I love you," Loki whispered.

Then he leaned in and kissed his beloved slowly, lingering as though he had no desire to be anywhere else.

When he finally drew back, he stayed close, his eyes fixed on the man before him.

"My handsome prince," he murmured teasingly, "you have no idea how difficult it is to pretend I possess self-control when you're standing this close."

Loki smiled against the corner of his lover's mouth.

"Now..."

His voice dropped to a soft whisper.

"...what am I going to do with you?"