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Upon first arriving in Midgard, Loki had not been afforded the same opportunity to explore the realm’s many facets like his brother had during his exile, but now that he was finally free of his imprisonment courtesy of Thor and his Avenger friends Loki took the time to study his new home to his heart's content. Although he continued to throw the occasional wrench into his brother’s life, Loki quickly discovered that there was more to do on Midgard than simply taunt the Avengers, and soon his appearances as an agent of chaos began to dwindle to the point of being almost non-existent.
The life that he had started to carve out for himself on Midgard wasn’t necessarily a bad life, but to say that it was the one he had always envisioned for himself would’ve been a grand understatement. It wasn’t until he experienced his first Midgardian winter in the outdoors that Loki understood what it was that was bothering him, that clawing sensation that seemed to consume him from the inside out all throughout the winter solstice.
Ever since Odin had imparted to him the knowledge of his true heritage, Loki had done his best to suppress anything within himself that he felt even remotely resembled that of a Jotun, and now it seemed that his rash course of action was going to slowly destroy him with each turn of the year.
“Unless of course I choose to finally embrace that which I despite,” Loki mused resignedly as his eyes swept over the lightly-powdered park just across the way from where he had taken up residence.
This was his third attempt at resisting the ever elusive siren call of the snow, and when he placed a hand against the frosted glass of his window Loki felt the grip on his self-control slowly begin to unwind until all he could think about was letting the specks of white consume him.
How he ended up in the clearing that he had just moments ago been admiring was a blur in Loki’s mind, but when he managed to finally glance down at his person he noticed that his change in location was not all that had occurred without his knowledge. Somehow, his body had reverted to its natural state of Jotun blue, and where there had once been a thin jumper and black slacks now rested what appeared to be a tribal skirt made out of white fur.
Loki found himself becoming increasingly fascinated with his odd appearance when a further inspection revealed silver coverings stretching from his wrists all the way up to just below his shoulders, the glimmering material silky to the touch as it hugged his cool skin, and on his head he could feel the workings of an intricate crown.
The fact that he stood barefoot in two inches of freshly fallen snow didn’t even register in Loki's mind until he tried to take a step and felt wetness between his toes, the sight of silver circlets encasing his ankles leading him to pause in his stride and cock each leg to the side for a better look. He was, for all intents and purposes, dressed like one of Odin All-father’s ritual fire-dancers, only it wasn’t fire that he wished to dance to but the swirling flakes fluttering across his face and body.
As if the environment had heard his thoughts, Loki caught wind of a somewhat mournful tune carrying across the wind and increasing in volume until it enveloped his very bones, and like a puppet being directed by invisible strings he felt his body begin to sway and bend to the music that only he could hear. Fresh snowflakes made their way into a net of raven hair while others latched onto blue skin as Loki continued to perform an elaborate dance that he had had no knowledge of prior to that moment in time, and when the music’s tempo went up a notch he found that he could not hold back a merry laugh, his movements becoming more carefree and fluid as his feet glided across the makeshift dance floor of white.
When Loki finally allowed his eyes to slip shut, the thought of someone seeing him in such a compromising state had been overtaken by the need to let the music guide him along; however, the spell that had consumed both his mind and body came to an abrupt end when Loki felt his arm connect with something solid...and warm.
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The first flakes of winter had just begun to rain down upon the citizens of New York when the huddled figure of Steve Rogers emerged from the safety of a corner diner and onto the bustling street that he had previously been eyeing through the establishment’s glass wall, his heavy sigh forming a plume of moisture as he started on his trek back home. Normally, he didn’t mind the snow; hell, he thought the stuff to be quite pretty…just as long as he wasn’t caught up in it. Even though his ‘new and improved’ form supposedly allowed for him to weather the white powder without the fear of ending up sick for who knew how long, Steve was still finding it difficult to put that particular aspect of his ‘enhancement’ to the test and therefore avoided unnecessary exposure to the stuff as much as possible.
As if his surroundings had somehow gotten wind of his thoughts, a particularly cold blast of air picked that particular moment to whip across his face and caused Steve to burrow his body deeper into the recesses of his leather jacket. It was just his luck that he’d been forced to flee the Avengers’ mansion without enough money for a taxi, he ruminated bitterly, his degree of discomfort increasing with each drop in the temperature.
Perhaps the word ‘flee’ was a bit too dramatic of a description when he recalled how he had left Tony Stark’s residence earlier that day, but when the image of Thor trying to fix them breakfast cropped back into his mind Steve was forced to admit that that had been exactly what he had done. ‘There’s no shame in self-preservation,’ Bucky used to say, and at that point in time Steve had agreed wholeheartedly, grabbing his jacket and heading out to the diner he liked to frequent without a backwards glance.
Alas, without money or transportation he could only stay away from home for so long before finally being forced to return, and as his steps brought him closer to his destination he began to secretly pray for an intervention, a distraction, anything that would give him an excuse to delay going back to what would probably be a crime scene by now. As luck would have it, the mobile phone that Tony had given him to use picked that exact moment to buzz in his pocket, a message telling him to stay away while Tony and Thor ‘redecorated the kitchen’ showing up on the tiny screen.
Steve’s attempt at smothering a relieved grin was halfhearted at best, and it was with shaky fingers that he quickly typed a message thanking Clint Barton for the head’s up while passersby walked around his stationary figure.
“Well, that takes care of that; now I just have to find something to do for the next few hours,” he sighed to himself, casting a narrow-eyed gaze around the area of the city he was currently in before he settled on taking a long walk through the park he knew to be just a few blocks away.
The snow had begun to come down in heavier flakes by the time Steve reached the entrance to the rather secluded area, but after a quick stop at the hot chocolate stand located along the footpath he determined that he would be good to go for at least another hour or two before he would need something else to keep him warm.
Giving a friendly smile and nod of the head to those he passed by, Steve soon found himself forgetting about the weather and the fact that the snow was beginning to come down more rapidly the farther along he walked. In fact, if it hadn’t have been for his timely look into the clearing off to the left he figured that he would’ve probably kept ambling along in a pleasant daze.
However, thanks to his soldier’s training, it didn’t take but a brief flash of blue amongst the otherwise white landscape before Steve was halting his steps and squinting into the distance. The moment his eyes landed on what he could only describe as a half-naked person dancing in the snow, he immediately tried blinking the image away.
Logic dictated that his mind must be playing a trick on his eyes, but as was his usual luck, the sight remained the same once Steve’s lids fluttered back open. As if this wasn’t enough to form a knot in his stomach, when he looked around to see if anyone else had picked up on the vision Steve realized that he was alone.
“Oh boy,” he mumbled under his breath, sparing a second to wonder why things like this always seemed to happen to him before he began to forge a careful path through the trees all the while keeping a curious eye on the twirling figure just out of reach.
Once he’d managed to clear the last obstacle that separated him from his quarry, Steve opened his mouth to ask if the person was ok and promptly found the words clogging in his throat as his eyes landed on the vision of a nymph-like creature ahead of him. The realization that this could very well be a visitor from parts unknown kept swirling around in the forefront of his mind as he took in the sight of the blue-skinned form, but despite the numerous security risks such a situation presented Steve could not seem to bring himself to intercept the mysterious figure.
‘It’s not like he’s hurting anybody,’ he reasoned silently, following along with his eyes as the scantily-clad man continued to sway to a beat that it seemed only he could hear and doing his damnedest to ignore the slight flush that had begun to find its way onto his face. Steve wasn’t sure just how long he remained standing there, but pretty soon he began to notice that he wasn’t cold anymore even though his cup of hot chocolate had long since been tossed away into a garbage bin. That’s when the moral and upstanding side of his brain began to kick in, forcing him to clear his throat and attempt to gain the mystery man’s attention.
“Um, y-you know you really…you really shouldn’t be out here without uh…without…”
Steve noticed that his voice had begun to taper off with each step he took towards the nimble figure, but despite his most heroic of efforts he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to obey his commands, leaving him looking like a prized fool as he trudged through the snow with his mouth forming words that no longer had sound. Once he’d cleared the distance that separated them, the otherworldliness of the mysterious form was more than prominent, and Steve was loathed to admit that he had in fact stopped in his stride to once again take up the act of staring when the raven-haired nymph unexpectedly bumped into him.
Steve’s mind didn’t register the fact that he had reached out and clasped a hand around a silver-clad arm until he felt firm muscle go taut against his fingers. Too late to retreat now, he sighed inwardly.
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Loki felt his eyes widen at the unexpected warmth that encircled his left bicep, but instead of whirling around and planting his assaulter in the ground like he normally would his lead-like limbs decided to respond in slow motion, the twisting of his upper body seeming to take ages to complete.
“You uh…you really shouldn’t be dressed like that in this…L-Loki?”
Steve had never been more grateful to be out of the public eye than he did at that moment, his voice cracking almost embarrassingly loud when the figure in front of him turned, and despite the odd skin coloring the other man happened to be sporting it was the unmistakable face of Thor’s erstwhile brother that greeted him.
“Wh-what are you…I-I mean…” Steve quickly retracted the hand that he had wrapped around Loki’s arm and unconsciously took a step back in an effort to gather his wits, but no matter how hard he tried to come up with a stern-sounding question about what the man was doing all he could manage was a weak, “Aren’t you cold?”
Loki curled his lips in a delighted grin in response to the nervousness that the usually unflappable Captain America was displaying, and making sure to keep his movements slow and unassuming he reached up and began to trace a delicate path along the side of Steve’s face with the tip of his index finger.
“Isn’t this the part where you ask me what my nefarious plans are?” he murmured, words ghosting over the other man’s cheek like a cool mist.
Although he’d been expecting the good Captain to react to his forwardness, Loki discovered that he was still unable to suppress a flinch when his outstretched hand was abruptly crushed by an overheated paw; however, any thoughts of the encounter turning into a struggle were quickly vanquished when he noticed how clearly uncomfortable the other man was becoming.
“You’ve managed to stay below everyone’s radar for a long time, Loki. Why show up now and…why here?” Steve asked, honest curiosity coloring his vehement tone. ‘And why on God’s green earth would you choose to make your comeback by dancing half-naked in the snow,’ he mentally added, but judging by the renewed grin on Loki’s face it was almost as if his thought had been spoken aloud.
“Does my appearance offend you, Captain Rogers?” the nymph-like man asked slyly, glancing up at Steve through lowered lashes and huffing out a small laugh when the blond began to blush.
The warmth surrounding his left hand was gone in an instant, but it was only when he noticed the lack of discomfort on his companion’s features that Loki chanced a look down at the hand that had been holding his, realizing for the first time that his touch had failed to produce even the barest hint of frostbite.
When Loki had started to give him what he liked to term the ‘goo-goo eyes’, Steve knew that it was time to beat a hasty retreat, ‘nefarious’ plans be damned! However, he didn’t manage to make it very far before an azure hand clamped onto a fold of his jacket and held fast while a small and very un-Loki like voice asked him to wait. Against his better judgment, Steve stood still and watched with wary eyes as one of his team’s main adversaries approached him with what looked like caution, long fingers reaching up and carefully skimming over his face with the barest of touches.
“You’re really cold,” slipped past his lips on a whispered breath, and the words drew what could only be described as a ‘soft’ smile from the usually sharp-tongued man.
“Does that bother you?” Loki asked quietly, lowering his one hand from its inspection of Steve’s face but keeping the other firmly buried in brown leather.
He knew that his uncharacteristic behavior was throwing the other man completely off guard, but it was as if his body had developed a mind of its own since he’d found himself here in the snow…and it was silently begging for Captain America to stay. The good Captain must have seen some hint of what he was feeling, for instead of hightailing it out of the clearing the man ended up covering both of Loki’s cool hands with his own slightly sweaty ones, a mute shake of the head the Avenger’s only response.
It was several moments later before either one dared to break the peaceful silence that had descended, Steve having finally found his voice again asking tentatively, “What are you really doing out here, Loki?”
For a split second after the words left his mouth, he considered that he had perhaps said the wrong thing due to the somewhat manic gleam that passed over the other man’s eyes before it disappeared just as quickly as it had cropped up, but instead of cackling madly or flashing one of his trademark grins that seemed to be all teeth Loki simply shook his head and sighed heavily.
“I don’t know.”
The words were half-choked, and Steve found his walls of restraint cracking at the look of openness on the blue-tinged face, crimson eyes keeping nothing hidden in their depths. “Th-the snow…it calls to me…I-I don’t understand it,” Loki muttered, more to himself than to the man holding onto him. “I-I despise this form,” he continued after a while, head bowed under the weight of his companion’s all-seeing blue gaze, “and yet…this is the happiest that I’ve felt in a long time.”
The strangled half-laugh that bubbled forth from frosted lips ended up being Steve’s undoing, and before his mind had time to process what he was doing, he found himself murmuring, “I’ve never been that big on snow myself, but I can see why someone would like it.” The wry look of disbelief that Loki favored him with had Steve smiling shyly, but he made no attempt to retract his words, choosing instead to shrug nonchalantly. “I mean…it is pretty…”
“And cold,” Loki quipped, a hint of a smile dancing about his lips as he watched his companion's cheeks flood with color. “You mustn’t forget that little detail.”
“But…that’s why we invented hot chocolate,” Steve replied proudly, his goofy smile and waggling eyebrows making him appear even more naïve and innocent than Loki had originally thought.
Instead of being detractions, however, these characteristics only seemed to add to the good Captain’s appeal, and rather than make a derisive comment about how proud the mortal should feel for such a ‘grand’ accomplishment Loki found himself ducking his head again.
“I’ve never had the pleasure,” he admitted softly, glancing up at Steve through inky lashes and tugging a blue-skinned hand free from the blond's grasp so that he could hold it up for inspection. “The cold doesn’t seem to affect me when I’m in this form,” he explained calmly, voice a bit too detached to seem 'normal', “so I’m afraid that your hot chocolate would be lost on me.”
Steve didn’t overlook the self-depreciating tone that underscored the other man’s voice, and he also didn’t miss seeing a glimpse of the blatantly false smile that Loki attempted to hide behind a curtain of raven-colored locks. If this whole display was supposed to be some sort of act designed to get him to lower his guard then Loki was going above and beyond what was necessary, Steve thought to himself. He did his best to remain perfectly still while Loki sought to gather his wits about him, but when the other man finally tried to pull away the blond made sure that Loki couldn’t get far by reaching over and encasing the slim hand that rested against his shoulder back in his warm grip.
“Anyone can enjoy a hot chocolate,” Steve stated lowly, crooking his index finger and using it to nudge Loki’s chin up, “even a…snow sprite super villain like you.” This last part came out on a huffed chuckle, but to Steve’s utter surprise he noticed little crystals pooling around the edges of Loki’s eyes as the other man stared back at him in wonder, a wobbly smile straining to break free on the azure face.
“I…I think that I’d quite like to try some,” Loki whispered, sharp teeth worrying at his lower lip as he considered whether or not the risk of pushing his luck would be worth the possible reward. ‘You won’t get another chance like this,’ his mind spoke up, cruelly reminding him that he would more than likely spend the rest of his days alone, and before he could second guess himself Loki forced his leaden tongue to stammer out a request for the good Captain to join him for a dance in the snow.
Steve felt his mouth go dry at the quiet invitation, and he hastily cast a furtive glance at their surroundings before looking Loki in the eye, wanting to be sure that they were indeed alone before he gave his answer.
“I’ve uh…I’ve never danced in the snow before. Hell, I’ve never really danced at all,” he began to babble, but an icy finger soon pressed against his lips and halted his awkward speech.
“Neither have I, until now that is,” Loki chortled good-naturedly, running his fingertip over the still-warm lips of a very wide-eyed Steve Rogers.
He could feel small tremors beginning to rack the frame pressed so close against his own and knew that he would have to relinquish his hold soon or else risk sending his companion into another frozen sleep, and despite the impression he tended to give off Loki had too much respect for the good Captain to let the other man go through such an ordeal again.
“It would only take a moment, and I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone,” he entreated, flicking his gaze from Steve’s lips back up to the man’s eyes and allowing his mouth to curve up into the slightest of smiles as he played his trump card. “And afterwards, we can consume all of the hot chocolate you like.”
Steve had never spent much time out in the snow before, but after the events of today he had a feeling that winter would soon become his favorite season if it meant that he got to spend time with an alluring nymph who, despite having an icy touch, possessed the warmest laugh that Steve had ever heard. They ended up dancing far longer than just a moment as heavy flakes began to land on their faces and outstretched tongues, Loki’s throaty laugh drowning out Steve’s humming of White Christmas several times. Whether or not anyone saw them soon became irrelevant once Steve became caught up in the moment, Loki’s glittering eyes and carefree countenance drawing him in like a moth to a flame, and the words were out of his mouth before his pleasantly numbed brain had time to warn him that he was making a big mistake.
“That’s a good look on you.”
Loki’s smiling mouth abruptly closed and needle-thin brows pinched together in a show of question, but the light of amusement that glowed within crimson orbs belied any true unease that the god might have tried to project.
“I think the weather is beginning to upset your senses, my dear Captain,” he replied slyly, only to have the tables turned on him in the blink of an eye.
Kissing had always been considered a special privilege in Steve’s book, but there were times such as this where it also seemed like the best way of getting one’s point across, having it be more than pleasant was just an added bonus really. His numb hands somehow managed to hold Loki’s chilled cheeks in place while he planted what was supposed to be a chaste kiss on frosted lips, but the feel of a surprisingly warm mouth opening under his ministrations was simply too much of a temptation to not explore.
Once they managed to break apart for air, Steve brought their foreheads together and mumbled, “I meant your smile,” right before he flicked his tongue out to lick the taste of wintergreen from his lips.
Loki was glad of their new positioning, for it allowed his thick swallow to go unnoticed. The body in front of him was shaking openly now, and despite his desire to remain there and bask in the glow of kindness that Steve was providing he knew that he needed to get the other man warm.
“Captain Rogers,” he whispered against his companion’s chin, allowing a second for a hum of acknowledgement to sound from the blond before he leaned back to look the other man in the eye. “I think I’d like that hot chocolate now.”
Steve nodded dumbly and made a quick elevator sweep of Loki’s body with his eyes as a silent gesture that the other man should ‘magic’ himself back into his accustomed form before he began to lead his companion out of the clearing, thoughts of how to spend the rest of the day flitting about in his head as he felt two no-longer-freezing hands grip one of his trembling ones. Perhaps having Thor attempt to fix meals wasn’t such a bad idea after all, Steve thought to himself absently.