Author's Note:

This fic is for beckerbell's birthday, for Steve/Loki and emotional intimacy issues. Because we all know who has those. This was a fun one to write! For those who want placement, this takes place (in my head at least) in the future of the Remember This Cold 'verse, but as it is not strictly in the arc of that, I'm not placing it there for the moment.

I will probably create a category for sidefics for that verse, but I am going to do that later.

For the moment, a final thank you to my faithful beta, who deals with my emotional issues on a daily basis. Thank you. And a happy birthday to Becky, who deserves all the lovely fic in the world.

Steve caught Loki in one of his melancholy moods. He did fairly well at hiding them, but Steve had gotten better at noticing. So he knew the moment he stepped into Loki's suite that something was wrong, despite the smile Loki cast his way as he rose from one of the armchairs.

"I wasn't expecting visitors," he said easily, with that slight quirk of his eyebrows that suggested amusement, and even a month ago Steve wouldn't have noticed the slightly too deliberate posture and expression, not quite natural. Not quite even the approximation of natural Loki used most of the time.

"I don't want to be predictable," Steve said, knowing that his smile faltered, and even as Loki padded over and leaned in, decided not to beat around the bush. He caught Loki's shoulders and held him enough away that he could scrutinize his face. "What's wrong?"

Loki's face went blank for a bare moment before a faintly puzzled smile was back. "Wrong? Other than the fact that I am unprepared for guests…"

Steve frowned. "Loki." He gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Something's up. I can tell."

"It is unimportant." He said the words so easily, so naturally, that Steve's first instinct was to believe them. Loki's hands slipped in and ran lightly over his hips. Steve let his arms relax a little so Loki could step in closer. "I hope you didn't just come here to fret…"

"No," said Steve quickly, "but if something's wro- mmm." The tip of Loki's tongue teased lightly at the side of his neck where he'd just nipped the skin. That was nice. Distracting, but nice.

"I am well," Loki murmured. "And wouldn't you rather indulge in other…" He moved his mouth up a little, this time sucking until Steve's toes tried to curl and he couldn't quite stifle a small "unhh" noise. Steve's arms holding him away went slack, and Loki stepped in close and rolled his hips to rub against him in the deliberate way that made Steve's knees go a little rubbery. He attempted to stave it off.

"But…are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Loki said smoothly. His thumbs rubbed a circle through Steve's khakis. "If there were something, I would tell you."

"No you wouldn't," Steve accused. Loki's laugh was almost soundless.

"No," he allowed. "Probably not. But isn't this-" He licked a stripe up the side of Steve's neck. "-more enjoyable anyway? Fret at me later. There'll be time."

That was a point, Steve thought a little dazedly. They could always come back to it. Maybe if Loki was more relaxed it would be easier to talk to him. Yes, he decided, sliding his arms around Loki's waist and catching Loki's mouth as he lifted his head. That was probably best.

And that was it. It wasn't until he'd been called away for a surprise attack that he remembered, midway through fighting the Wrecker Gang, that he hadn't ended up finding out what had been wrong at all.

It must not have been too important, then, Steve told himself. Maybe he'd just been lonely.

Steve wondered if Loki liked animals.

~.~

He brought Loki a kitten. A rescue. Natasha went with him, and other than a brief skeptical lift of her eyebrows when he made the proposal, she didn't naysay it. The one they picked out was a grey tabby, small but with, when Steve picked him up, an uncommonly loud purr. He was skinny but otherwise healthy, and it was with only a little flutter of nervousness that he ascended to where Loki was staying (being kept, Loki had corrected on a bad day), kitten in arms.

He knocked on the door with his foot and the expression on Loki's face when he saw the kitten made the little stinging clawmarks on his arms worth it.

Of course, within seconds it was gone, replaced by a quizzical, faintly sardonic smile. "I wasn't aware you had a pet."

"I don't," Steve said with a bit of a smile. "You do."

Loki's eyes widened very fractionally, and just for a moment, Steve glimpsed the underneath that he saw so rarely. A startling youngness, a delighted kind of surprise so completely genuine it almost hurt. "Mine?" he said, after a moment, and then seemed to shake himself, donning a smile that was, if not dishonest, a little less…naked. "Steve. I would say you shouldn't have, but…"

The kitten squirmed in his arms and meowed loudly. Steve held him out. "Here. I don't think he likes me very much."

"Nonsense," Loki said. The kitten almost fit in the palms of his two hands. "Why should he not? It is simply a wide, strange, and new world. Frightening." Of course, in Loki's hands, the little critter quieted right down, and proceeded to clamber up Loki's shirt to perch on his shoulder, staring at Steve with wide eyes. "He'll warm up to you."

He couldn't keep down a smile. "Even if he doesn't…he likes you," Steve said, stepping into the room as Loki moved back to let him in. "And that's what matters. I figured you might – want some company. You know, when I'm…"

"Saving the world." There was something slightly self-deprecatory about Loki's smile, but Steve couldn't quite grasp it and it was gone in a moment. "He shall make delightful company. I'm afraid you might find yourself replaced if you're not careful."

Steve hesitated and then laughed, if awkwardly. It seemed like something had changed, that he'd said something that had somehow…

Loki laughed, suddenly. "Come, you're starting to get your worried face on again." He moved gracefully, kitten still perched on his shoulder like a gargoyle on the ledge of a cathedral. "You fret too much already, my dear Captain. You hardly need worry about me."

Steve felt a peculiar chill down the back of his neck. "But I want to," he blurted out. He thought he caught a slight hitch in Loki's step, but a moment later he wasn't sure.

"You don't feel you take on enough already with the lot of your feckless friends to look after? I don't think you need fear getting bored. With that lot I expect there's always something." Loki's voice was light, but Steve frowned.

"I'm not worried about getting bored. You think I worry because I'm bored?"

"I think you worry because you don't know how to stop." Loki turned, his smile almost too easy. "I have no wish to be another burden for you when you already seek to carry the whole world on your shoulders."

"I don't…" Steve shook his head. "It's not a burden. And like I said – I want to."

"Want to worry? That seems a touch masochistic, Captain." Loki arched his eyebrows suggestively and Steve felt himself flush.

"It's not…stop that," he said, a little peevishly. "You know…I worry about people because I care about them."

Loki's smile was wide and flippant. "Stop that. You'll make me blush."

"I'm serious," Steve insisted. "It's not something I do because I have to. It's not some kind of…" he trailed off, not even sure how to finish that sentence, and looked down, frowning. "I worry about you," he said, honestly. "Because your well-being matters to me." He looked up at Loki and found him staring at him, a strange look on his face. "Does that…make sense?"

Loki reached up and plucked the cat off of his shoulder to a mew of protest, and set him down on the seat of one of the chairs.

"Yes," Loki said, suddenly, "yes, of course." It wasn't even a particularly good lie, but Steve could see the slightly brittle expression at the back of his eyes that said don't push. His shoulders slumped. Why couldn't he just…

Loki's hands cupped his face, suddenly. "Oh, Captain. I have been most ungracious. And after you brought me a companion."

"It's fine," Steve said quickly.

"Not in the least," Loki responded with a small frown. "But never fear. I shall see to it I make it up to you." He smiled, slightly, and there was a gleam in his eyes that made Steve swallow hard. "Twice over, perhaps."

Later, Steve told himself. They'd talk about it later. He'd make sure Loki understood.

~.~

"Are you happy?" Steve asked. Loki tilted his head back where Steve was combing through his hair and gave him a strange look.

"Beg pardon?" Steve shifted, very slightly, and hesitated before repeating the question.

"Are you happy? I mean…I guess I haven't asked. But I…I know this probably isn't what you'd want, if you had a choice. Options. So I just wanted to know…"

"Oh," Loki said, interrupting his fumbling attempts. "Yes, of course I am." Steve relaxed more tension than he'd realized he'd been holding.

"You are?"

"Most certainly. Or did you think I would rather have Banner's creature running its fingers through my hair?" Loki's voice was light, almost airy. Steve sighed, and took a moment to breathe so he didn't snap. He could tell when he was being baited.

"Loki. Don't talk about him like that. And you know very well that's not what I meant."

"Do I? It's a broad question." Loki's lips twitched. "Do you mean existentially, or specifically at this moment, or…"

"The fact that you're avoiding the subject makes me nervous," Steve said bluntly. "Can't you just…I mean here. With the situation. Sometimes you talk about feeling like a prisoner."

"Well. I am, aren't I?" Loki sounded peculiarly amused. "Of course, I did agree to as much, so I hardly think I can complain overmuch." He tilted his head back and gave Steve a crooked smile. "The alternatives were fairly unappealing."

It was an answer, after a fashion, but Steve couldn't help pushing. "But are you happy," he persisted. "Here. Or – content, if that's a better word."

Loki's eyes closed, his tone turning even more droll. "I believe some have accused me of being incapable."

Steve felt a small twinge of irritation. "I didn't ask what 'some' said. I'm asking you. I want to know what you feel."

"What I feel. Dear me. That is a question."

Steve gave Loki's shoulders a shove. "Get up." He could almost hear Loki's frown.

"Why?"

"Because it was a serious question and I want you to look at me and answer it. Seriously."

"Why, Captain. You know that I am never anything but perfectly serious." Loki slid off him, after a moment, and stood, turning, hands spread and palms open, smile so dazzlingly false it hurt to look at. "I cannot tell a lie. Never have I been so happy, nor dreamed of such abundant delights." Steve took a slow breath through his nose and let it out.

"Stop it," he said, not quite sharply. "It's just one question. I want to know how you're doing."

"So if I told you I was poorly, you would simply leave it at that?"

Steve frowned. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Poorly."

"Of course not." Loki answered with perfect, glib ease. "Why should I be?" Steve fought down the urge to shake him, and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Why are you being like this?" he demanded. "Why are you being so-" He broke off. Loki's eyebrows arched.

"Insufferable?"

You said it, not me, part of Steve wanted to snap, but he took a moment and closed his eyes, calming himself. "Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?" he asked, finally. "And don't say you aren't. I can tell."

Loki smiled, a little thinly, and there was something in his eyes that Steve couldn't quite pin down. "I can't help it. My insufferable personality will always out, it seems. Alas."

"I never said – it's one question!" Steve couldn't keep his voice from rising a little. Loki's eyes sharpened.

"One without a right answer," he fired back, and Steve blinked.

"What?"

"Am I wrong? There is no answer to that question that will satisfy you. 'Are you happy,' you would ask, first of all, as though it is a simple question with a yes or no answer. But that is what you want, yes? A simple answer, something to soothe you or affirmation that there is something you can fix. But whichever answer I give – if I say no, you will be upset. If I say yes, you will assume I am lying, and be upset. Why would I answer?"

It was so matter of fact that Steve just stared for a moment. Finally, he pushed out, "What happens if I'm upset?"

Loki gave him an odd look. "Why?"

"You make it sound like…like that's the worst thing that could happen. What do you think I'm going to do?"

Loki shrugged. "I do not believe you will do anything. I simply mislike it. Is that so peculiar?"

"No," Steve said slowly, "but I just…it's not the end of the world. And I'd rather you were honest with me than tried to spare my feelings by – not saying something."

Loki's eyes flickered over and past him. "I would sooner not."

"You would sooner…" Steve expelled a breath of air, rubbed at the back of his neck. "Don't I get to choose, too? I want to know. That's why I asked. And if the answer is no then maybe I can help – make it better, is that such an impossible idea?"

"And if you cannot?" Loki's voice was taut like a tripwire, and Steve had a nasty feeling he was going to stumble right into it. "What then?"

"How do you know I can't do anything?" Steve demanded. "Or are you just assuming that I won't, or can't, or whichever it is-"

"And now you are upset," Loki said, sounding exasperated. "I don't see why you felt the need to insist on these sorts of conversations when you only work yourself into a frenzy-"

"I wouldn't have to if you would just be honest with me! Or can't you do that?" Loki recoiled, and Steve realized a moment too late what he'd said. He winced. "I didn't mean…"

"A good question," Loki said, too quietly. "Perhaps I cannot." His expression was blank, flat. Steve exhaled slowly, frustration and worry fighting a battle in his gut. Ultimately, he came down somewhere in between.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally. "I didn't mean to say that."

"You needn't apologize. You're not wrong. Nor the first to have doubts on the matter." Loki's voice was light again, and Steve wished he could just…

"I'm still sorry. It was unkind of me. And it wasn't helpful. I just…I worry. You know I do. And I worry that you wouldn't tell me if something was wrong because you think…I don't even know what you might think, Loki. I want to know that you're all right." He met Loki's eyes squarely. "Can you…tell me that? And then I will leave it alone, whatever the answer is?"

Loki's expression flickered. For a moment, something darted through his eyes that Steve jumped after, but he missed it. A moment later, though, the hard line of Loki's shoulders relaxed a little, and his expression eased from its rigid mask. "Ah, Steve," he said, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a wry, slightly bitter expression. "You really are too patient. It is almost intolerable." He shook his head. "I am…as happy as I know how to be. Does that satisfy you?"

No, Steve thought. No, it doesn't. What does that mean? It doesn't sound good enough, it sounds… but he'd said he wouldn't push. If he didn't keep his word on that…

Let him come to you, Steve told himself. It takes time. Give him time.

He found a smile, though it didn't come easily. "Yes," he said. "That's – that's all I wanted to know."

~.~

Loki's breath raised goosebumps on his skin where his head rested on Steve's shoulder. Long fingers idly wandered up and down his sternum, long, lean body pressed all along Steve's, all skin, slightly warmed by Steve's own body heat. Loki's breathing was slow and even, muscles languid and relaxed.

Sometimes it made Steve sad, the way he only ever got like this just after they'd – been intimate. One of so few moments when he was open and at ease and for a few minutes, at least, not so… it felt sometimes like the only time when Steve could really see him as he was, rather than how Loki wanted to be seen.

"You look beautiful," Steve said honestly. The corner of Loki's mouth he could see tugged up a little.

"Appeals to my vanity? A tactic I would think beneath you, Captain."

Steve frowned a little. "It's true." Loki's fingers tapped twice on his breastbone.

"You need not flatter me. I am already in bed with you." Steve couldn't help a little bit of a laugh even as he shook his head.

"That's not what it's about. I just think you should know." Loki's smirk widened a little.

"That I am beautiful? Oh, I do know that." His hand trailed down a little, and Steve felt himself tense, but not unpleasantly. "You don't look so unpleasant yourself."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Not so unpleasant? What a compliment."

"Mmm. The faint sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your hair sticks a little to your forehead, the faint glow of satiated lust…" Steve's face felt hot, suddenly, and he frowned. It was – frustrating, the way Loki could do that just by talking. Sometimes it didn't even matter what he said.

"Stop that," he said, though without too much vehemence. Loki laughed soundlessly, but subsided. Steve just looked at him for a few moments, listened to the rhythm of his breathing and the feeling of Loki's heart beating close to his, the near complete slackness of his muscles.

Part of him just wanted to keep quiet. Leave things at peace. Enjoy the moment and not…

"Loki?" he said, quietly, keeping his voice calm and quiet.

"Hmmm?" He felt the hummed response vibrate in Loki's chest and hesitated again. But he needed to know.

"Can I talk to you about something?" It was a barely perceptible increase in tension, but there nonetheless. Steve rubbed his hand over Loki's shoulder. "It's nothing bad."

"But you suspect I will not like it." There was no point in trying to lie to him, even if Steve had been inclined. Or in trying to hedge.

"I don't think you will, no. But it's important to me." There was silence for a moment. Steve waited, not quite holding his breath.

"Then I assume you will ask me whatever it is, will I or nil I. So you may as well unburden yourself." Loki's voice was barely a murmur, but he didn't sound too bothered. Perhaps a slight note of something that suggested he found this tedious, but that was better than it could be.

Steve shifted a little. He left his hand where it was on Loki's skin, what he hoped would be a comforting weight. "Do you trust me?"

Loki was silent for a moment, and then made a sound almost like a scoff. "What sort of a question is that? Of course."

Steve took a deep breath through his nose and let it out. "…do you, though?"

"You doubt me," Loki said, and Steve could almost hear the frown. He shook his head, then remembered that Loki couldn't see it.

"That's not…I guess I'm just not sure we're talking about the same thing." Steve rubbed a hand through his hair. "I don't mean – in an abstract sort of sense. I mean…personally. Do you trust me, that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Unless I turned on you," Loki reminded him, voice strangely brutal, and unease prickled in Steve's belly.

"I don't mean physically." This wasn't going how he'd wanted it to, but he couldn't remember how it was he'd meant to say this. Loki didn't pull away, but Steve could feel his muscles winding tight. "I just mean…you never talk about what you're thinking, or feeling, what you want or don't want. And I wondered if there was…a reason you didn't think you could. Or didn't want to."

"Can I not simply wish not to speak of such things?"

"I don't think that's what's going on," Steve said, slowly. Loki sat up, suddenly, pulled away and turned to look at him sidelong.

"Oh? And what is it you do think is 'going on', Captain Rogers?"

Stay calm. "I don't know," he said, honestly. "Can't you tell me?"

Loki looked at him, stare flat. Steve held himself still. "Nothing is," he said, after a few moments, but it sounded strange, tense. "I don't know why you would think otherwise, and I am not entirely certain what the aim of this conversation is supposed to be."

"There's no aim," Steve said. He could almost feel things slipping through his fingers. "I just want you to talk to me."

"Am I not talking to you at this moment?" Loki smiled, too easily. "Of course I would be delighted to-"

"That's not what I mean," Steve said. "I mean – I want you to talk to me – about you."

"I wasn't aware I had failed to do so."

Steve closed his eyes. "No, see, you're doing it right now. Putting up walls as fast as I can get close. You do the same thing, every time, and I keep thinking eventually maybe you'll… but that's the way it always is. When there's something wrong – you never want to talk about it. Or – or not even just that. It's like whenever you get even a little bit close to expressing a sincere emotion, you just – shut down."

Loki stiffened. "I was not aware that you felt deprived of melodramatic display."

Steve winced. "That's not…" He let his head fall back and sighed. "I just feel like you don't tell me things about what you're thinking."

"I don't ask you to share your innermost thoughts with me." Steve jerked like he'd been slapped and stared at Loki, incredulous. He wasn't looking at Steve, his eyes directed forward, and Steve pulled back and propped himself up on one elbow, feeling suddenly uncertain.

"How can you say that?" Steve blurted out. Loki exhaled, then, and shook his head.

"Your pardon. I misspoke."

Steve frowned. "No, you didn't. What's that supposed to mean?"

There was a moment's silence. Loki rolled out of bed and stood, paced a step away, skin almost gleaming in the dark. When he spoke, Loki's voice was not quite hard. "I only meant that I do not require that you share your everything with me, so I fail to see why you are so indignant that I do not automatically do the same."

"But it's not 'everything,'" Steve said. "It's anything. I don't – anything I know about what goes on in your head is more in spite of you than anything." He could feel his voice rising and couldn't quite push it down. "You never say when something upsets you, you never let me help, you never let me in at all-"

"What do you want of me?" Loki's voice was tight, sharp as he turned. "Do you wish me to spill my every thought at your feet, to perform at sentiment that you might be at ease feeling that you know my mind? I will not."

Steve shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about. I just want – I don't want to feel like I always have to guess what you're thinking."

"Then don't," Loki snapped. Steve planted his feet.

"It doesn't work that way. I'm your – I'm at least your friend, and that means that I expect a little bit of give, I expect you to trust me enough to let me in on more than a surface level, cause even now I still feel like I'm only getting glimpses of you and the rest is still just – what you want me to see."

"Ah. I see now what it is that troubles you. You want me to be honest." Loki's lips curled in a cruel, unpleasant smile that made Steve's stomach turn. "You want me to be forthright and straightforward. You want me to be you. I am not you, Captain. I never will be." His voice was almost a purr. Too close, Steve thought, to how it had sounded before, before everything, and he felt suddenly cold. He shook it off with an effort.

"That's not what I want at all! That's the opposite of what I want, I want to know you, not some – some kind of construct that you think I want to know, the real, actual-"

"Do you?" Loki took a step nearer. "You don't think it will frighten you to know what lives in this thoroughly perverse mind of mine?"

"What do you think's going to happen?" Steve asked, and his voice rose precipitously, not quite to a shout. "What do you think's going to happen if you give me even a little bit of what you feel?" Silence. Loki's jaw was locked, clenched. "Do you think I'll leave?" He pushed, demanded.

"Why wouldn't you?" Loki snapped, suddenly, and his voice was high and sharp and a little wild.

Silence. Steve almost felt the air vibrate. His stomach churned but his thoughts were completely blank, and he couldn't find the words that he wanted to say at all, just stared at Loki, a gradual feeling of tired disappointment growing in him. "That's really what you think," he said, and it wasn't a question. "And all this time, you've just been – showing me what you think I want to see? Just – pretending?"

"Isn't everything?" Loki's voice was harsh, with a hint of mocking. He was breathing rapidly, shallowly, his hands working open and closed. "We all play at something."

"I wasn't playing at anything." Was any of this even what you wanted, or were you just… He felt sick. "When we were…when we had sex, did you want that?"

Loki made a harsh sound. "You have not forced me into anything I did not desire, Captain."

"But how could you…" Steve shook his head. "If you thought I was just…" He'd thought, he'd been so sure, that Loki knew where they stood. But still, still…

Steve stood up and reached jerkily for his clothes, feeling suddenly unsteady. He could feel Loki staring at him, waiting. For what? Condemnation? For Steve to abandon him?

"I told you that if this was going to work, you couldn't lie to me," Steve said, pausing with his pants on. Loki's gaze had a touch of mockery to it.

"And yet it seems I cannot avoid it."

"Don't give me that," Steve snapped. "We both know it's not true. Do you understand that this – this is lying to me?" Loki's smile was mirthless.

"Complete honesty is simple for you, Captain. You have nothing to hide."

"You shouldn't either," Steve said earnestly. Loki made a coughing sort of laugh, half amusement, half simple bitterness.

"So you would say."

Steve took a deep breath and tried again. "How can you say you trust me when you'd assume that I was just – fooling around, whatever you thought I was doing? That's not trust, Loki."

"For certain values." Steve squeezed his eyes shut hard and opened them, pulled his shirt on.

"No," he said, "It's not."

Silence. After a moment, Loki spoke again. "Are you pleased?" His voice cracked like a whip. "You ought to know by now that prying at my thoughts will only wound you. It is what I do."

"I don't believe that," Steve said. "In fact, I know that's not…you're just doing that thing where you excuse something by pretending you can't make a different choice. I know you can."

"You are the only one who seems to think so," Loki said, not quite a sneer. Steve threw him a sharp look.

"I'm not." He didn't name Thor. Didn't have to, by the way Loki looked away with a sound not quite a hiss. "And besides - I'd always rather know the truth than have a false kind of peace. Can you understand how it makes me feel, that you've just been…" He rubbed the back of his neck. Why can't you just talk to me? He wanted to ask, but he didn't think there was an answer that would satisfy him. "You don't need to pretend to be someone else," Steve said, quietly.

"Don't I?" Loki's eyes on him were dark and bitter. "My self has never been good enough for anyone else. Why should it be for you?" It wasn't even, Steve thought, self-deprecation. Just brutal, straightforward honesty. He felt suddenly, horribly defeated. How did you argue with that? How could he even start…

"You could try having a little faith in me," Steve said. Loki scoffed, dryly, and that hurt. Steve closed his eyes and nodded, took a step back.

"I have to go," he said, not opening his eyes. "But it's not…for good. Or I don't mean it to be. I won't be far if you want to – talk. About this."

"Of course," Loki said, caustic, a strange kind of bitter satisfaction to his tone. Steve felt a flash of anger and turned.

"I don't make friends with people because they're perfect machines who do everything I want them to," Steve said, flatly. "I befriended you because I wanted to know you. I'm sorry that – that you didn't realize that. That you thought that I was shallow enough that I'd turn on you because you felt something that you thought I wouldn't like. That's not the kind of person I am. Don't just tell me what you think I want to hear. If you can't trust me…fine. But don't…don't pretend that you do."

He could hear Loki's breathing, still harsh and rapid. He turned away and moved to the door.

"I think we should both…take some time away. Some time to think. If you don't want me to come back…if you do, though, it's going to be starting over again. And I expect you to be honest with me. I can't – I can't do this, otherwise."

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and shut the door quietly behind him. He paused, just for a moment, half hoping that he'd be called back, but then he gathered himself and walked across the room to the door into the hallway, aware at every step of a heaviness in his feet.

~.~

It wasn't as though Steve lacked for things to do. Far from it. Nonetheless, he was still acutely aware of the new empty place in his day to day life. He half caught himself considering going upstairs and trying again to talk to Loki. He might have plenty of other things to fill his time, but his thoughts still turned continuously to Loki. Worrying.

But they both needed time, and Steve knew if he went back too soon…

He held out for a week and a half before he went back. Some part of him had half hoped for Loki to send a message somehow, but he'd known that was probably futile. Steve's heart was in his throat as he ascended and hovered outside Loki's door, hesitating, worst case scenarios suddenly filling his mind. What if he'd vanished again, what if he'd done something harmful or self-destructive, what if he was just going to turn Steve away anyway…

He knocked.

There was a moment's silence that made his heart pound, and then Loki's voice. "Yes?"

"It's me," Steve said, simply. Another silence, and then the door clicked open and swung inward an inch. Steve hesitated another moment before pushing it the rest of the way open.

His first impression was that it was a mess. Little pieces of something were strewn on the carpet at various intervals, on the kitchen counter, on the coffee table. It took him a moment to realize what they were was dismantled electronics. It looked like Loki had found every single appliance in the suite and taken it meticulously apart, only to neglect to put it back together. Trying to occupy himself, Steve thought. Distract his mind.

Loki himself was sitting on his usual chair, legs curled underneath him and a book open on his lap in which he appeared to be wholly engrossed. His expression was perfectly neutral, and a slight tingle of unease crawled down Steve's spine. He hovered in the doorway, uncertain.

He heard a quiet mew and glanced over to see the little kitten – Váli, Loki had dubbed him – on top of the fridge, looking like he was trying to be inconspicuous.

"Hey," Steve said, finally, not quite cautiously.

"Mm." Loki folded the book shut, one finger holding his place, and looked up. "I wasn't expecting you." Ever, Steve heard.

"I said I would come back," he said, keeping his voice quiet.

"I thought you might have changed your mind." Loki's voice was calm and even. Steve knew how little that meant.

"I didn't." He looked at the scattered pieces of electronics on the floor, and then back at Loki, trying to get a sense for what he was thinking. He looked exhausted, Steve realized. Hollowed out. He wondered if he'd slept at all. "Have you thought about…what I said?"

"I have." It was impossible to read that tone. It could have meant anything. Steve waited, and when nothing was forthcoming he shifted a little, and then crossed the room to sit down on the couch across from Loki.

"And…?"

Loki glanced down at his book as though he was considering returning to it, and then set it more properly aside and leveled his gaze on Steve, though his eyes were as inexpressive as his features. "You want to know what I've been thinking," he said, finally. Steve quelled a little jump of anxiety and nodded.

"I do."

"Mm." Loki nodded, slowly. He seemed distracted, not quite distant. "A great deal, Steve Rogers, is what I have been thinking. My thoughts make poor companions, I find." Steve held his silence, waiting. Loki's expression flickered.

"I have considered," Loki said, suddenly, "that I was not made for good things."

Steve frowned. "Loki, that's not-"

"Hush, Captain. Allow me to…it is as though there is a…a need in me, to question sweetness. To poke and prod and mistrust it until it proves itself flawed, or turns sour for my needling. And my question has always been if – I ruin the good things given to me, or if they were never there at all? I begin to think it is the former." Loki's gaze wasn't on him, directed somewhere to the left and far distant. "You left, and I became…slowly aware…that I might have cast away something that I would not be able to get back." Loki's hands folded together, twisted over each other, then settled at his sides. "I have very little to lose, you see. Sometimes it seems safer to have nothing." Steve opened his mouth, and made himself close it. Loki smiled, barely.

"You wish me to be – open with you. I am not certain I know how to be. Even this…I choke on the words. They strangle in my throat." Loki let out a stuttering laugh. "You wish to know how I feel? Sick. Naked, flayed, weak. Every word feels like a knife I am giving you to gut me with. I am afraid. That is – truth."

For a moment, Steve felt swamped, overwhelmed. There was so much, so very… "You think I'm not?" he said, finally. "I'm scared all the time. That I'll do or say the wrong thing and you'll just…vanish."

"I am not so breakable as that," Loki said, not quite sharply. Steve held in his dubious look and straightened in the chair.

"Neither am I."

Loki's gaze flicked to him, though only through his eyelashes.

"I'm not a fickle friend," Steve said, keeping his voice quiet but sure. "I'd hope you know that."

Loki exhaled a peculiar huff of a laugh. "Intellectually? I suppose I do. But everyone has a breaking point, and I cannot help but think that I may be yours."

"You're not," Steve said, and when Loki cast him a profoundly dubious look, repeated more firmly, "You're not. I'm sure of that."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am."

"'Just are.'" Loki huffed. "One of the more infuriating answers. And not a terribly believable one."

"Then can you believe that I'm willing to take the risk?"

"And what if I am not?" Loki's voice rose slightly, though it dropped again almost immediately. Steve shook his head.

"You've been alone before. I don't think that's really what you want. I know it's not easy for you to…talk. Maybe it never will be. But it's – important to me, too. You worry about me. Is it that hard to believe that I might worry about you when I don't know what you're thinking?"

Loki was silent, his eyes skating away again. Was this going well, or badly? Steve wasn't sure. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"I don't expect you to tell me everything," he said quietly. "Just…sometimes. I want to know what's going on. What you're thinking."

Loki's smile was bitterly wry. "My mind is an ugly place, Captain. Are you certain you want to invite that?"

Steve took a deep breath. "I don't always have to like it," he said. "It doesn't mean I don't like you. And I won't just – leave. That's not what I do."

"No," Loki said, after a long moment. "I suppose it is not."

Steve took a deep breath in and let it out. He half started to reach for Loki, then pulled back. "Can you trust me?" Steve asked. "That's what I need to know, if you can…if you can't, that's fine, but I can't…build a relationship on that kind of foundation." Loki glanced away and didn't answer. Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't mean…"

"I could promise you," Loki interrupted. "But it would be a lie."

"I don't need you to promise," Steve said. "I just need you to promise to try. That's all." He looked at Loki levelly, and waited. After a long moment, he bowed his head, just a fraction.

"That…that, Captain, I think I can do."

Steve felt a wash of relief, and almost slumped. But he reached out across the coffee table instead, finally, took one of Loki's hands. "Thank you," he said, honestly. Loki's nose wrinkled.

"For what?"

"For being willing to give this a try," Steve said, and found a smile. "We'll make this work." Loki just looked at him for a few moments, and then the corner of his mouth quirked up in the slightest of smiles.

"Yes," he murmured. "Perhaps we will."