Fanfiction: Bittersweet(s) (The Avengers)
Title: "Bittersweet(s)"
Status: Complete
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Clint Barton/Loki
Disclaimer: Copyright @ Marvel. No infringement intended.
Rating: PG
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, established relationship, Slash
Warnings: none
Summary: Clint has to make a choice after S.H.I.E.L.D fell apart. Will the apple to bite into be sweet or bitter?
AN: Written for the Rare Pair Fest 2014, as a gift for smaragdbird.
Bittersweet(s)
Clint took one step over the threshold into his apartment only to have a wall of sweet-smelling air slam into his face.
“What the hell...?”
He dropped his keys into the empty fruit bowl that sat atop the shoe cabinet and inhaled deeply. Vanilla, cinnamon, cardamon, something else with an alcoholic bite. Not unpleasant at all, just unexpected.
Clint made his way to the kitchen, kicking off his boots and tossing his leather jacket over the back of the couch in the process. Today's 'mission' finished and debrief over, there was no more need to look presentable. Home was his place to relax and be at ease.
“Loki...”
The word drifted, hanging there in the aether, because Clint's brain did a double take at the sight of the God of Lies, surrounded by backing trays, wearing a flower-patterned apron. Also, he was pretty sure that he hadn't owned most of the mixing bowls, measuring cups and other assorted ingredients littered on the counter when he had left this morning.
“There you are, my little guinea pig,” Loki said with unholy glee. He turned around, revealing a silver platter full of cookies and cheeks dusted with flour. “Try one.”
Clint eyed the selection thrust under his nose, not bothering to hide his grin as he leaned close to lick a little bit of dough from Loki's chin before stealing a quick peck.
Some kisses were simply a prelude to sex. This one was about affection and a short word rarely spoken out loud, but lingering between them hidden in the small details. Not to forget the grander gestures, like fighting off alien invasions and blowing stuff to high hell.
“Good evening to you too.”
“Yes, yes,” Loki allowed, right now not concerned with matters as trivial as good manners. “And now eat.”
“Aye aye, Sir.” Clint picked a still warm cookie, careful not to break its handle off. “Is that Mjölnir?”
“Yes,” Loki answered, tone a tad haughty with a true artists pride. “If you deem them edible I might consider sending some to Thor and Jane.” His lips curled in a slow stretching smile. “Let us hope he will not be too disappointed when they do not fly straight into his mouth.”
Clint snorted, but did not dare comment. The brothers relationship was complicated at best, volatile at worst, and needed no flashing neon sign for all mortals involved to know that they better tread lightly. Instead he took a careful bite - and quickly snatched three more of the crooked hammers before the platter could be placed down outside his reach.
“Am I to take that as your verdict?”
“They're delicious.” Clint swallowed, catching some stray crumbs with a tongue that burned at the tip with a hint of chili. “I'm against sharing.”
He didn't resist when Loki pulled him closer to chase the taste of vanilla, to try and steal it from his mouth. Teeth scraped lightly over his lips, one hand cupping his cheek, Loki's breath cool as ice on his skin when they separated.
“Hmm. Indeed.”
“Not that I'm complaining, but what's the occasion?”
Loki shrugged, hands busy with transferring what was left of the cookies into a tin that sealed itself against air with a snap. “Christmas draws near and I was led to believe that baking before the holidays is a long-standing and cherished tradition.”
“Tony?”
“Please, as if I would ever trust any non-scientific advice coming from that particular source.” Loki sniffed at the thought. “I asked Pepper.”
“Smart move. - Remember that time Tony convinced Thor that it was Hobbit day?”
They both pictured Thor in Stark Tower, wearing a waistcoat far too small for his muscular frame and stumbling over his own very big, very hairy, and very fake feet. It ended in a spontaneous party, with Nat and Tony drinking everyone under the table and the horror that was a hungover Cap the day after. JARVIS had sent them photos to prolong the torture - sooner or later even laughing hurt.
“Fun times.”
Clint cast a glance towards the window, where there was nothing to see but the gleam of Miami's slowly setting sun, all white beaches and a sky so blue it seemed to melt right into the ocean.
If it weren't for the music and the supermarket decorations, the shopping rush trying to squish the unsuspecting like bugs in the onslaught of customers, he wouldn't even have noticed that the holidays were around the corner. And even those signs had nearly passed Clint by, playing babysitter for Stark as he was.
“Missing New York?”
Clint nodded, not surprised that Loki had guessed the direction of his thoughts and gone straight for their root. With S.H.I.E.L.D dismantled, Nat and Fury gone dark while he languished here with a pretense of a mission to keep him busy...
Well, it made him think of Loki's offer, made him consider --
Clint snorted softly. Perhaps he was the one with commitment issues, because Loki... he was there. Always. Waiting patiently for him to reach a decision, not bothered by his hesitation, nor the curious kind of domestic life they had meanwhile settled into.
“Come.”
Clint didn't ask where to or pointed out that he wore no shoes, just took the hand Loki offered him, cool and soft, its shape utterly familiar, and perhaps that spoke for itself.
XXX
Ripped out of time and space by a torrent of magic - or whatever the actual mechanics - they landed smack dab in the middle of Munich's Marienplatz, easily recognizable by the Church Of Our Lady in the background, lit golden against the darkening sky.
Stalls and the people milling around them were everywhere, selling wood carvings, glass crystals, sweets, beeswax candles and pewter tree decorations, all awash in a blurr of color and music, the air heavy with the smell of gingerbread, Glühwein and deep-fried dough.
Clint allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd, snowflakes catching in his hair and crunching underneath his re-appeared boots, breath following his movements like a white banner.
They stopped in a dead end, surrounded by brick buildings, their windows full of stickers with Santa Claus, presents, trees and angels. Loki produced a candy apple with a stage magician's flourish, offering it with the pomp of a boon.
“Here.”
Clint took it with a sense of foreboding, tingling down his spine like a cold finger. He was grateful that they had come a long way, were now above deception, lies and tricks. The choice to make was his own.
The sugar coating was transparent instead of red, the skin of the apple a smooth and flawless burnished gold. Pale fingerprints lingered on the wooden stick, lines and whorls the color of dried Jotun blood.
It seemed Iðunn had not parted from it voluntarily over a cup of tea and a simple 'please.'
“I thought this a better gift than a ring.” Loki shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Thanks to Thanos and the Tesseract we are already bonded, but you being mortal - I would hate being parted from you.”
Suddenly, things were clear and easy. “Me too.”
And that was Clint's answer, empathized by the huge bite he took, sugar cracking between his teeth, mingling with the bitter taste of the apple of immortality. He swallowed without gagging, not surprised at all.
Life was not always fair and sweet, had not been to both of them. Time to leave that behind and make a brand new beginning.
The End
Status: Complete
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Clint Barton/Loki
Disclaimer: Copyright @ Marvel. No infringement intended.
Rating: PG
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, established relationship, Slash
Warnings: none
Summary: Clint has to make a choice after S.H.I.E.L.D fell apart. Will the apple to bite into be sweet or bitter?
AN: Written for the Rare Pair Fest 2014, as a gift for smaragdbird.
Bittersweet(s)
Clint took one step over the threshold into his apartment only to have a wall of sweet-smelling air slam into his face.
“What the hell...?”
He dropped his keys into the empty fruit bowl that sat atop the shoe cabinet and inhaled deeply. Vanilla, cinnamon, cardamon, something else with an alcoholic bite. Not unpleasant at all, just unexpected.
Clint made his way to the kitchen, kicking off his boots and tossing his leather jacket over the back of the couch in the process. Today's 'mission' finished and debrief over, there was no more need to look presentable. Home was his place to relax and be at ease.
“Loki...”
The word drifted, hanging there in the aether, because Clint's brain did a double take at the sight of the God of Lies, surrounded by backing trays, wearing a flower-patterned apron. Also, he was pretty sure that he hadn't owned most of the mixing bowls, measuring cups and other assorted ingredients littered on the counter when he had left this morning.
“There you are, my little guinea pig,” Loki said with unholy glee. He turned around, revealing a silver platter full of cookies and cheeks dusted with flour. “Try one.”
Clint eyed the selection thrust under his nose, not bothering to hide his grin as he leaned close to lick a little bit of dough from Loki's chin before stealing a quick peck.
Some kisses were simply a prelude to sex. This one was about affection and a short word rarely spoken out loud, but lingering between them hidden in the small details. Not to forget the grander gestures, like fighting off alien invasions and blowing stuff to high hell.
“Good evening to you too.”
“Yes, yes,” Loki allowed, right now not concerned with matters as trivial as good manners. “And now eat.”
“Aye aye, Sir.” Clint picked a still warm cookie, careful not to break its handle off. “Is that Mjölnir?”
“Yes,” Loki answered, tone a tad haughty with a true artists pride. “If you deem them edible I might consider sending some to Thor and Jane.” His lips curled in a slow stretching smile. “Let us hope he will not be too disappointed when they do not fly straight into his mouth.”
Clint snorted, but did not dare comment. The brothers relationship was complicated at best, volatile at worst, and needed no flashing neon sign for all mortals involved to know that they better tread lightly. Instead he took a careful bite - and quickly snatched three more of the crooked hammers before the platter could be placed down outside his reach.
“Am I to take that as your verdict?”
“They're delicious.” Clint swallowed, catching some stray crumbs with a tongue that burned at the tip with a hint of chili. “I'm against sharing.”
He didn't resist when Loki pulled him closer to chase the taste of vanilla, to try and steal it from his mouth. Teeth scraped lightly over his lips, one hand cupping his cheek, Loki's breath cool as ice on his skin when they separated.
“Hmm. Indeed.”
“Not that I'm complaining, but what's the occasion?”
Loki shrugged, hands busy with transferring what was left of the cookies into a tin that sealed itself against air with a snap. “Christmas draws near and I was led to believe that baking before the holidays is a long-standing and cherished tradition.”
“Tony?”
“Please, as if I would ever trust any non-scientific advice coming from that particular source.” Loki sniffed at the thought. “I asked Pepper.”
“Smart move. - Remember that time Tony convinced Thor that it was Hobbit day?”
They both pictured Thor in Stark Tower, wearing a waistcoat far too small for his muscular frame and stumbling over his own very big, very hairy, and very fake feet. It ended in a spontaneous party, with Nat and Tony drinking everyone under the table and the horror that was a hungover Cap the day after. JARVIS had sent them photos to prolong the torture - sooner or later even laughing hurt.
“Fun times.”
Clint cast a glance towards the window, where there was nothing to see but the gleam of Miami's slowly setting sun, all white beaches and a sky so blue it seemed to melt right into the ocean.
If it weren't for the music and the supermarket decorations, the shopping rush trying to squish the unsuspecting like bugs in the onslaught of customers, he wouldn't even have noticed that the holidays were around the corner. And even those signs had nearly passed Clint by, playing babysitter for Stark as he was.
“Missing New York?”
Clint nodded, not surprised that Loki had guessed the direction of his thoughts and gone straight for their root. With S.H.I.E.L.D dismantled, Nat and Fury gone dark while he languished here with a pretense of a mission to keep him busy...
Well, it made him think of Loki's offer, made him consider --
Clint snorted softly. Perhaps he was the one with commitment issues, because Loki... he was there. Always. Waiting patiently for him to reach a decision, not bothered by his hesitation, nor the curious kind of domestic life they had meanwhile settled into.
“Come.”
Clint didn't ask where to or pointed out that he wore no shoes, just took the hand Loki offered him, cool and soft, its shape utterly familiar, and perhaps that spoke for itself.
XXX
Ripped out of time and space by a torrent of magic - or whatever the actual mechanics - they landed smack dab in the middle of Munich's Marienplatz, easily recognizable by the Church Of Our Lady in the background, lit golden against the darkening sky.
Stalls and the people milling around them were everywhere, selling wood carvings, glass crystals, sweets, beeswax candles and pewter tree decorations, all awash in a blurr of color and music, the air heavy with the smell of gingerbread, Glühwein and deep-fried dough.
Clint allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd, snowflakes catching in his hair and crunching underneath his re-appeared boots, breath following his movements like a white banner.
They stopped in a dead end, surrounded by brick buildings, their windows full of stickers with Santa Claus, presents, trees and angels. Loki produced a candy apple with a stage magician's flourish, offering it with the pomp of a boon.
“Here.”
Clint took it with a sense of foreboding, tingling down his spine like a cold finger. He was grateful that they had come a long way, were now above deception, lies and tricks. The choice to make was his own.
The sugar coating was transparent instead of red, the skin of the apple a smooth and flawless burnished gold. Pale fingerprints lingered on the wooden stick, lines and whorls the color of dried Jotun blood.
It seemed Iðunn had not parted from it voluntarily over a cup of tea and a simple 'please.'
“I thought this a better gift than a ring.” Loki shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Thanks to Thanos and the Tesseract we are already bonded, but you being mortal - I would hate being parted from you.”
Suddenly, things were clear and easy. “Me too.”
And that was Clint's answer, empathized by the huge bite he took, sugar cracking between his teeth, mingling with the bitter taste of the apple of immortality. He swallowed without gagging, not surprised at all.
Life was not always fair and sweet, had not been to both of them. Time to leave that behind and make a brand new beginning.
The End