Flufftober - Day 16
16 - Falling asleep together
Pairing: Loki x gn!reader
Part 3 of day 6. Promt "If we both stick to the story, they can't prove anything." from here. Written for @flufftober2021 's event.
Word count: 2,2K
Tags: alcohol and drunk people, implied smut (non explicit at all), I'm aware this isn't exactly fluff but it's the continuation of the other days. Idk I just had inspiration by the name of the days, leave me be.
Loki really, really hadn’t intended to.
It wasn’t in his plans, and it certainly wasn’t in yours, he was sure. It was an accident. Accidents happen, right?
You were sleeping soundly, unmoving, almost even drooling. He was sure you weren’t a light sleeper —if he had managed to carry you a few weeks before, and you’ve barely moved your eyelids, then he would be just fine trying to escape from under the sheets of your bed.
He pleaded he had his clothes on. He checked —he did. He still looked for any signs of having had something more than an innocent sleepover with you—but nothing. He sighed in relief. He would not only hate himself for having lowered his standards so greatly —the whole compound would take him off his misery.
It was between the very specific set of rules of domiciliary arrest.
Do not harm anyone, in any way.
Do not get involved with enemies or potential enemies.
Do not trespass properties, or do not commit any felonies, for that matter.
He would harm you.
If he had anything to do with you, say romantically or sexually, he knew he wasn’t truly interested —a toy, a plaything, a midgardian. A lesser being he wouldn’t get involved in serious matters, of course—. That meant it would hurt you, if he had gotten your expectations up in the sky and then shot at them.
So, it was a terrible idea to have fallen asleep by your side.
How did that even happen?
He tried to recall the previous night’s events. All he could think of at first was the mind-numbing music from Tony’s stereos, the dizzying feeling of his brother’s asgardian alcohol, the heat and the neon lights doing wonders to feeling as disorientated as he could get.
So, it was a party. He looked around and saw at least three bottles of wine opened and empty around your floor. Have you ever been a drinker? Or was it the effects of being close to him? Not close —just overstaying the supposed time one should have around him.
You always overstayed, for the Norns.
He can remember now, a bit more vividly. He was too drunk, he knew. But you were too. You were drunk and easy-going. He remembered very well how his impression of you changed from one minute to the other. You did a thing with your… eyes. He was too intrigued as to why your personality suddenly changed, why you were being all suave and, somehow —Loki still can’t figure out what it was— charming. Attractive in the way only Asgardians could’ve been, he thought.
Yes, he remembers. It captivated him because you seemed… otherworldly.
It wasn’t to say that he actually felt attracted to any aspect of you —not even the slightest. His gaze traveled back to the current you, wrapped up in your blankets and with the pillow marks on your reddened cheeks. It was your normal self again, but he could still feel that sensation of attraction towards you lingering on his senses. Why was that? What have you done to him yesterday that made him so… confused?
He was sure there was witchcraft involved.
Because that could be the only explanation, right? All other explanations were out of reason, completely out of place, out of sense. Witchcraft it was. He would torment the Scarlet Witch about it later. For now, he had to escape the bedsheets and leave you sleeping, hopefully unaware of his staying.
But, how did he actually get there?
He also remembers talking to you. He flirted. He knew he had, because he just saw what you were wearing last night —there, thrown onto the floor, although he’s sure he had no part in taking it away; he cannot remember how the texture feels in his own fingers—, and he knew he would flirt with anyone wearing that. Anyone, of course. Not particularly you, although the image of you on those clothes made him let out a breathy sigh. Thought he has to push away, right now.
Alright, then. He flirted. Your voice in his ear saying something that gave him tickles everywhere. He remembers the feeling of your breath, your whisper against his ear. He leaned over the counter bar, drink in his hand. No, two drinks. He was taking your drink away from you, yes, he remembers now. You said,
“I might feel a little too brave, tonight”.
He didn’t understand what you meant exactly, but he could give it some context. He knew you were, somehow, flirting back. He didn’t know if you were hoping for results or not, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t have you, in any way.
He remembers taking your drink off your hands and sliding his arm through your shoulders, escorting you somewhere. He bumped against his brother, too, and exchanged a few words he could not and didn’t want to remember, it was pointless. He walked you all the way to your room and opened the door for you. You did something. He does not remember how it went after that.
Hand in the doorknob. Greetings of goodnight. You took a step further towards him. Blank.
He cannot remember.
It doesn’t matter. He, with butterfly movements, attemped to peel off the sheets from his skin. A little movement and your eyelids fluttered. He needed to be quieter. He realized soon he wasn’t completely dressed. His v-neck t-shirt was on, yes. It was the black one that James gifted him for his birthday —after he’d told him he looked hot on it, he remembers he had flirted with almost every member of the team, at some point—. His dressing shirt was on the floor, just by your own clothes, and his pants were there too. He was in his less flattering pair of black boxers, and he blushed at the mere thought of you seeing him like that.
He needed to get off that bed.
You stirred around and he froze in place. You grunted, and muttered to him to close the curtains. He moved his hand slowly and conjured the curtains to close, accommodating the blanket over you again and getting up to leave. Hopefully you'd still be sleeping.
"Oh my God", he heard your voice behind him. He closed his eyes as if trying to avoid the situation. But no, you were wide awake. He turned around and saw your eyes fall on his body —he suddenly felt extremely self-conscious—since when? He'd never feel like that around anyone, could it be guilt? Had he slept with you? Have you seen him? "You're here. And... without... pants".
"I…", he stuttered —he never stutters—. "I'm afraid I can't remember what happened last night".
"Nothing happened", you hurried your answer. You sat up in bed and he noticed you weren't wearing any clothes underneath the blankets. "I remember, nothing happened".
"Then why are you naked, and I'm on your bed?".
"I don't know", you were being honest. He sighed and tossed your clothes from the floor. You grabbed them and observed they were stained with wine. "Oh, this seems to explain why, then".
"It still doesn't explain why I'm in your bed", he added, getting up to leave. You grabbed his wrist.
"You can't leave".
"Don't be ridiculous".
You were right. If Loki were to walk out of the room in that instant, everyone on the compound would know he slept in your bed.
"I can teleport away". You sighed out and gestured to him to leave, but he stayed. He still needed to know what happened. "What do you remember?".
"Oh no", you realized. Your grip was still on his wrist and he wanted to jerk it away, but something in him couldn't get enough of your skin against his, even your palm on his. What have you done to him? "They've seen us leave and get into the room. They know".
"Well. They can't prove anything, unless the recordings show otherwise… wait. Do you have cameras in here?".
"You perverted asshole!", you jerked his hand away, and laughed.
"No! Not like that! I mean for…".
"I know, Loki, I was kidding".
Again, you were a mystery. He is the God of Mischief and Lies. He is sarcasm itself, the guardian of jokes. Yet there you were, joking, and he, unable to recognize it.
"What happened last night?".
"We could delete the footage from the doorway. There was a moment where it looked like you were just walking me to my room…".
"I was doing just that, that's what I remember".
"...and delete the part where you come in".
"Yes, why did that happen, again?".
As he began to lose his patience, he got distracted by how you bit your lip. They looked soft, moist, warm. He can remember how it felt to press his against yours, to nib at them with his sharp teeth —he didn't make them bleed, he caressed them with his tongue. He can still taste you, a lingering feeling that will never leave him, now that he remembered.
That's what you did.
Doorknob. Good night. You stepped closer and grabbed him by the collar. You kissed him, softly at first, soon fervently. Passionately. You held on to him like he was the last drop of water in a desert; and he felt you were honey and he's had the biggest craving for centuries —since when did he have a sweet tooth?
Just the memory of it was enough for him to step back.
"I need to get off this godsdamned tower. You'll get me killed", he assured you, and you chuckled.
"Don't be stupid. We didn't do anything. And even if we did, that's not gonna kill you, you know?".
"You keep saying we didn't do anything, yet I remember you kissed me".
"No, I didn't", you said, and he frowned.
"Don't try to deceive me for a second, I know what I…".
"You kissed me", you corrected, with raised eyebrows.
He stopped in place. Yes. He did.
His memories started getting rewritten in that same moment, over and over again.
Doorknob. Good night. You pulled him by the collar and kissed… his cheek. A faint "thank you" on his ear. You were grateful for him taking care of you like that. For walking you to your room. Loki didn't stop his impulses, for once, and he moved his head. A peck on your lips. He waited for you to react, to walk away, to yell. You didn't, still grabbing his collar. Your hands traveled through his neck to his jawline and you kissed him back.
"I remember", he muttered. "Then I opened the door again".
"And escorted you to your bed".
"And we… drank?", he pointed at the empty bottles.
"I laid on the bed and told you… well, I asked you if we… you know", you blushed, and he held his breath. "You said no", and he sighed. "You said I was too drunk and I was making a mistake. So you summoned a bottle and said that we could talk until I was sleepy. You made sure I didn't do anything stupid while drunk. You stayed the whole time until I fell asleep. We talked a lot".
He needed to take in your words for a moment. He took care of you? He dared thinking you needed protection, when you were his doom, the truth that deceived the trickster?
"I spilled wine over your clothes", he pointed out again. "That's why you're naked?".
"I was already too sleepy to change, so I decided to stay like this".
"But I was in the room", he frowned in confusion.
"I felt comfortable enough".
He chuckled. You felt comfortable enough. You felt comfortable around him, enough to trust your naked and drunk body by his side, when the rest of the team was too drunk and immersed in their own world.
You felt comfortable enough with him, and he couldn't understand why.
"Then why am I in my underwear?".
"You fell asleep too. I guess you changed in your sleep, with your magic", you said, getting up and putting a new shirt on. He turned around out of respect.
"So we didn't have sex", he stated. "But they don't know that".
"Why would they care?".
"My brother would kill me. Probably in the literal sense".
You sighed out.
"Aren't you the God of Lies? Pull something off your sleeve that would make you sound less caring and more cold, and say that", you suggested, and he chuckled. You knew him all too well. "If we both stick to the story, they can't prove anything. Besides, isn't that what you're concerned about? Feelings?".
"I don't have feelings towards you", he added with raised eyebrows, pointing a finger at you.
"You don't. Except that you do".
"Then just say you stayed talking. What's the damage?".
"I don't have feelings towards you", he repeated.
Maybe if he repeated it enough he'd convince himself.
"Kiss me again", you asked. Maybe challenged.
He pulled you against him by the waist and sank in between the pillows, tasting you once again. It didn't go unnoticed a little smile against your lips.
"What was our alibi again?".
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