Warmth
Title: Warmth
Fandom: Matantei Loki Ragnarok
Pairing: LokiHemu
Summary: When a beach trip goes awry, Loki and Heimdall find themselves stuck in an underwater cavern where the need for warmth is something that they can’t ignore.
Disclaimer: Matantei Loki Ragnarok belongs to Kinoshita Sakura, and whoever else got it licensed. The concept of the Norse gods originally belongs to the…Norse people. I only own the plot, and my strange interest in love/hate relationships.
<< originally posted 091005 >>
It would always baffle Loki how Mayura always managed to drag him to “super-fun outings” as she so aptly put it. It boggled him further how, when he, his two sons and Ecchan were dragged around by the pink-haired girl, the other gods somehow found their own ways of getting thrown into the mix. It was in such an event that all the gods who transmigrated to Midgard, the three Norns, a black puppy, a serpent in the guise of a human, a mechanical pig, a shikigami, and a mortal girl, were gathered at the beach one clear summer morning, cooking the food (Yamino), fighting over the food (Narugami and Fenrir), lounging under the sun (Urd, Verdandi and Loki), frolicking in the water (Mayura, Ecchan, Freyr…and a coerced Heimdall), fighting over Loki (Skuld and Freya), and generally causing a lot of chaos (pretty much everybody).
…it was a blessing from the gods, then, that they were at a private beach; otherwise they would’ve been kicked out. But since most of them were gods anyway, it really wasn’t a mystery worth pondering over.
“Minna, the food is ready!” Yamino announced cheerfully while holding up a plate of steaming picnic goodies, and was instantaneously tackled by Narugami and Fenrir, who started gobbling up the food as if tomorrow were going to be Ragnarök.
“No, Freyr you idiot, I do not want to play water polo with you and Gullinbursti,” Heimdall was remarking crossly to the whining brown-haired god who was being buoyed by his faithful boar.
“Heimdall isn’t any fun! Come, Gullinbursti, let us go ask Yamato Nadeshiko …” Freyr went off in Mayura’s direction.
The watcher god, at the end of his patience after putting up with Freyr’s antics, scanned the shore for something more interesting to look at than the two childish people splashing him accidentally with copious amounts of sea water and a robot pig that was doing a poor imitation of a whale. His sanguine eyes landed on the diminutive Loki, who was currently the topic and victim of Freya and Skuld’s argument, the subject of debate being who had the right to rub sun block on the trickster god’s back. Loki’s emerald eyes were darting about, silently pleading for help as his cursed form lacked the physical strength to break free from the two female deities’ hold on either of his arms. Unfortunately for him, the three people who he could rely on to bail him out were engaged in an all-out food war, and the two older Norns were too amused over his predicament to bother to help.
As was Heimdall. Loki’s glance fell on his purple-haired arch nemesis and all the latter did was smirk and wave mockingly in Loki’s direction. Loki glared. Heimdall snickered.
Heimdall suddenly thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that Freyr dragged him into this little get-together. After all, it meant a whole day of torturing Loki, if he was resourceful enough to find ways to do so. One who wished to one up Loki needed as much cunning as the trickster god himself.
Loki managed to wriggle free from Freya and Skuld and started to edge away from the still-bickering goddesses. It didn’t escape Heimdall’s sharp eyes that Loki, for a split second, registered a repulsed look at the water that was mere inches from his tiny toes.
Heimdall’s smirk widened. He knew just how to make Loki’s day even worse.
.oOoOo.
Around mid-afternoon, when the sun wasn’t as glaringly hot as a few hours ago, the energetic and high-spirited Mayura once again managed to make all the deities do her bidding as she pleaded Loki to let them take a boat ride out to sea. Freyr, wanting to get his Yamato Nadeshiko’s attention away from Loki, summoned his gigantic ship Skidbladnir, getting for his trouble a thorough whacking from all the gods present (especially Heimdall) for using his powers in broad daylight in front of a mortal.
Fortune smiled upon the gods once again, as it had countless times before, because Mayura was too excited over the prospect of a boat ride to wonder how on earth a ship of vast proportions could materialize from thin air. Everyone boarded Skidbladnir and the ship set sail, moving swiftly away from the shore.
Loki was huddled in the corner; looking a little green around the gills (he hated riding on boats as much as he hated riding in cars…or maybe even more, as there was water involved). The fact that Heimdall was occasionally giving him smug looks didn’t ease his nerves one bit.
…..he just knew something bad was about to happen. When did a run-in with any of the other gods of Asgard ever result in a peaceful occurrence?
Mayura let out a scream, and Loki’s head immediately snapped up in concern. The pink-haired girl was jumping up and down excitedly, and it became clear to Loki that she wasn’t in any sort of danger.
“Kyaaa…look everyone, there’s a dolphin! Ooh, there are more over there! Loki-kun, come here and see this! Kawaii!!!” Mayura jumped up and down, pointing at five or six dolphins about fifteen feet away from Skidbladnir. All the others present hurried to the side of the ship, marveling at the long-snouted animals, a sight that they never saw back in Asgard.
All except Loki. He was still sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, and only reluctantly went over to where the others were when Mayura forcibly dragged him there.
“Over there, Loki-kun! Aren’t they cute?” Mayura said happily, and Loki’s eyes followed the direction pointed out by her index finger. As soon as Loki stood still, Mayura moved on to the other passengers of Skidbladnir not too far off and rattled on about how amazing the dolphins were. Loki leaned against the side of the ship and fixed his gaze on the dolphins playing in the water, starting to relax and watch in fascination as the dolphins jumped and created a perfect arc while airborne before splashing back into the sea…
The next thing Loki knew, he was toppling over the side of the ship, heading straight for the dolphins he had been intently looking at.
.oOoOo.
“Oops.”
Loki’s eyes widened a fraction as he saw Heimdall’s smirking face above him, and in one fluid motion acted upon by pure instinct, he grabbed the hand responsible for his fall and yanked the purple-haired god with him.
“Hey, what are you-AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”
All heads turned toward the end of the ship, where the shout came from. What the others saw was a blur of purple, black and auburn colliding with the water with a loud splash and disappearing beneath the surface.
“Loki!”
“Heimdall!”
“Loki-kun!!! Higashiyama-kun!!!”
“Loki-sama!!!”
“DADDY!!!!!!”
.oOoOo.
Water. Water. WATER…
It was the only word that filled Loki’s head as he struggled against Heimdall’s death grip on him, and it was the only thing that threatened him from all sides, choking him, drowning him…
He kicked wildly out at Heimdall, who quickly evaded but never let go of his arms. In Heimdall’s opinion, if Loki had to drag him down with him (thus spoiling his plan of staying nice and dry on the ship whilst amusedly watching Loki flail his arms about helplessly out to sea), then he might as well make the most of it and refuse to let Loki break to the surface and relish the look of terror on the trickster god’s face for as long as his own breath could hold out.
Loki managed to slap Heimdall’s right hand away and used the Watcher as leverage to propel himself to the surface. Heimdall, who was not very pleased with having his head being stepped on, grabbed Loki’s foot and dragged him down before he could get that much-needed breath of salt air. Another underwater struggle ensued between the two until the need for air became too dire and they were forced to surface, gasping heavily.
“LOKI-KUN!!!” Mayura’s voice was screaming hysterically from above, and the two gods looked up to see Narugami and Freyr preparing two lifesavers on one end of a rope, attaching the other end to the ship.
They never got to use them. Because as soon as Narugami and Freyr threw the lifesavers overboard, a gigantic wave appeared in front of Skidbladnir, rocking the ship almost to its side. Several female screams (most calling out Loki’s name) were heard.
When the wave subsided, Loki and Heimdall were nowhere to be found.
.oOoOo.
Cold. It was the first thing that popped into Heimdall’s mind as he recovered from the impact of the wave that had wiped out both him and Loki. His slightly blurred vision told him that he was about thirty feet below the surface. Suddenly the water felt extremely heavy. He looked around, trying to locate the trickster god and found him not too far away at about the same depth where Heimdall was. Loki’s eyes were closed.
Unconscious, Heimdall thought with dismay. Damn you, Loki, for passing out at a time like this! Another look above gave him another piece of bad news-he couldn’t see the hull of Freyr’s ship anywhere in sight. He knew enough about Midgard waters to know that a wave like the one they encountered was more often or not followed by another series of surges. It usually happened during a storm, but who could guarantee natural patterns when there were gods involved? It was probably Odin’s way of showing his disapproval of Loki and his supposed assassins’ big happy summer trip.
Lungs starting to burn, Heimdall swam towards Loki and wrapped an arm around the diminutive god’s waist, using all the energy he could muster to bring them to the surface. He had only enough time to breathe in a lungful of air before another wave brought them back under. There was no chance of being able to safely resurface until all the waves stopped, and that was highly unlikely. His split-second glimpse at the sky showed that a storm was brewing-and a big one, at that.
There was nothing for it. The only options were either to miraculously come across an island, or stay underwater and let the waves pass them by until it was safe enough to resurface.
Neither choice seemed very promising, and at the rate this catastrophe was going, Heimdall suspected that both his and Loki’s cursed bodies would give out and they would soon drown. He frantically looked around with all the shreds of hope he had for somewhere to escape. His trained watcher eyes spotted an underwater cave. It was his last resort, and he prayed that the Allfather cared enough about his own son not to let him die in a place like this.
.oOoOo.
He didn’t pray in vain. The opening was the entrance to a short natural tunnel that led to a dry cavern that gave them the air they desperately needed. Coughing and sputtering, the purple-haired god dragged Loki onto dry ground and lay down beside him, completely exhausted. He filled his lungs with as much air as they could hold until he finally caught his breath. With sore limbs, he lifted himself up to a sitting position and surveyed the natural chamber they were in. There was no opening leading to an exit except for where they had come from, and the little light that permeated into the space came from a few cracks on the ceiling of the cave.
Heimdall sighed, figuring they would be stuck here for another couple of hours before they could safely return to the surface, and even then they couldn’t be assured of an instant rescue. He turned to glare down at Loki, deciding that he would hurl all the insults he could think of at the trickster god once he woke up, when he saw something that made his blood run cold.
Loki wasn’t breathing.
Heimdall’s inner voice poured forth a myriad of colorful profanities that would put the worst delinquents to shame. He stared long and hard at Loki as if trying to melt him with a death glare would instantly revive him. Two seconds… Five seconds… He grabbed Loki’s shoulders and shook the other god hard.
“Oi, Loki! Wake up! You can’t die here, you pathetic excuse of a god!” What was he going to do? He didn’t actually have the intention of getting Loki killed…although that had been the reason he had gone to Midgard in the first place. But for some unexplainable reason, he had mellowed down into…this, where he was content with just giving Loki hell and pissing him off to the point of near insanity.
He had to save Loki…or there would be hell to pay from the trickster god’s many divine admirers. Add to that his two protective sons…
Shaking his head to clear the horrifying image of all the goddesses tearing him limb from limb, he thought hard about how to revive Loki without the aid of magic. How could he get air into the other god’s lungs…?
Heimdall froze as his crimson eyes settled on Loki’s unmoving lips. No. Way. There was no way he was going to…
Just do it!!! His mind, and possibly the imaginary voices of a bunch of shrieking goddesses, screamed at him.
Heimdall swallowed hard and leaned over Loki, taking a deep breath and slowly lowering his mouth to the other’s…
…and suddenly a pair of emerald eyes shot wildly open, and the owner let out a scream that sent Heimdall toppling backwards, almost back into the water.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Loki exclaimed, scampering up to a sitting position and backing away towards the wall, a traumatized expression on his rapidly reddening face.
Heimdall glowered at him, a little disturbed that he could feel his own cheeks heating up as well. “Don’t get any ideas, idiot! I was only trying to save your life before you screeched like a banshee and almost shattered my eardrums!” he retorted, wondering when he had lost control of the blood vessels in his cheeks.
“Do you know how disturbing…you…what?” Loki’s freaked-out countenance changed to one of blank shock and he stared at Heimdall, who turned away and muttered something about not repeating the statement again.
“Stupid moron doesn’t even know how to show any gratitude…” Heimdall said darkly.
Loki glared at Heimdall’s back. “Well, I’m sorry for assuming that you were going to assault me because that was exactly what it looked like…”
“And I’m sorry that you’re so mentally incapacitated that your tiny brain can’t comprehend the mechanics of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation…”
“I’m so sorry that you’re such a tightwad that everybody thinks you’ve got a stick up your ass…”
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t just abandon you out there so that I would get some peace of mind at last…”
Loki smirked, ignoring the sardonic comment about saving his life. “You’re right; your mind has never exactly been stable, what with your psychotic tendencies!”
If looks could kill, then Loki would have dropped dead from the expression on Heimdall’s face. “I have psychotic tendencies? I’m not the one who got laid with a giant’s stallion and gave birth to an eight-legged horse*!”
The trickster god frowned. “If you didn’t tell on me, then I wouldn’t have had to do that in the first place!”
“Bestiality freak!”
“Tattletale!”
“Horse whore!”
“You’re just bitter because you never got laid in all the millennia of your existence!”
“At least I wasn’t desperate enough to turn into a female beast just to get any!”
Loki screamed in exasperation. “Will you quit it about the whole getting laid with a horse thing already?!”
Heimdall snickered. “…you scream like a girl.”
“I do not!”
“You do too!”
“Ugh! Just shut up, Heimdall!”
“You shut up!”
“Fine!”
”Fine!”
Loki turned his back on Heimdall, resolutely facing the wall. Their (somewhat petty) argument had flared him up quite a bit, but now he could feel the cold seeping into his skin. Taking a quick glance behind him, he could see that Heimdall was shivering as well.
It seemed that they were looking ahead toward several hours of being trapped inside the drafty cavern, which was going to be quite a problem. But Loki was the god of fire*, so he was pretty much assured of not catching pneumonia even in the freezing temperature. Though his powers were limited because of his cursed form, and almost all his energy depleted from almost drowning, he had enough strength left to give off a burning aura, thus effectively warming up his body.
All the while, he could feel Heimdall’s penetrating glare at the back of his neck, but Loki ignored him, still fuming about the other god’s jibe about his outlandish affair from times long past.
It took Loki almost twenty minutes to completely dry himself, and just like a million times before, he cursed the fact that he was stuck in this body, completely drained with just a simple heating spell.
He looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see that Heimdall had fallen asleep, curled up near the water’s edge. Loki supposed that Heimdall had tired himself out from glaring too much. Now that he was sure that he was safe from any kind of threat from the Watcher, he leaned against the wall and contented himself with just staring at Heimdall’s sleeping form.
It was almost surreal how the purple-haired god could look so peaceful and undisturbed when he was deep in slumber. You wouldn’t know what an insecure bastard he really is when he’s awake, Loki thought with a pout, pulling his knees up to his chest to maximize the heat spreading through his tiny frame.
A particularly cold draft invaded the small space from the cracks above, and Heimdall shivered. Loki noticed, a little troubled, that the other god’s skin was deathly pale, and his lips were borderline blue. He had the split second notion of helping Heimdall, but dismissed it immediately.
Besides, with his limited powers, he was unable of spreading the warmth inside his body to another host with his hands. And he was completely exhausted himself…
You’re just saying that to alleviate your guilt, a voice within him chided. Must be his conscience.
Loki didn’t even know he had a conscience. Being banished to Midgard really must have made him go soft.
Why don’t you help him? You know you can. You just won’t.
Archenemies aren’t meant to help each other, Loki’s evil side retaliated.
But he already broke that rule, didn’t he?
I didn’t ask him to, the other voice grumbled.
He saved your life. He could have left you to drown, you know.
Loki sighed. He did know, and he didn’t like it one bit. Nor did he like the fact that he was in Heimdall’s debt.
The auburn-haired god in a little boy’s form reluctantly left his warm post huddled up against the wall, trudged slowly towards the sleeping god and kneeled beside him. Loki hesitantly reached out for Heimdall’s shoulder and shook him hard.
“Heimdall… Oi, Heimdall! Wake up!”
No response.
Loki shook Heimdall harder. “Wake up…do you want to catch a cold, or any of those other annoying mortal illnesses?!” the diminutive god screamed in the other’s ear.
Still no effect. Loki let out a frustrated groan. For a deity who was the Watchman of the gods, and was supposed to be able to sleep with one eye open and have hearing so sharp he could hear the grass growing, Heimdall sure was a deep sleeper.
Maybe that’s why Odin kicked him out of Asgard, for being such a lousy watchman, Loki thought with a snicker, but soon returned to the task at hand.
Ten minutes later, Loki was ready to tear his hair out. He had tried screaming ten decibels louder into Heimdall’s ear, pulled his hair, shook him violently, pinched his arms, kicked him, and even splashed his face with a little more water (which only worsened the state he was already in), all to no avail. There was no waking Heimdall up. Was he that exhausted after swimming for so long with so little air, that he couldn’t care less if he let his guard fall completely and fell into the throes of sleep? Or did he actually have any semblance of trust in Loki that he would willingly make himself vulnerable in the trickster god’s presence?
Loki didn’t really know, and he was too tired to ponder the inner workings of his supposedly worst enemy. He wondered why he had made such a huge effort to awaken Heimdall, when he could have used the precious time to rest himself and regain his energy.
He yawned, feeling his own eyelids growing heavier. Sleep was overcoming him, and he didn’t realize that he had curled himself up beside Heimdall and thrown an arm around the other’s hip. Heimdall’s skin was ice-cold, but Loki didn’t care anymore. Anything to make the other god warm. He did owe this to him…
Soon enough, Loki himself started drifting off into blissful sleep…unaware that he was snuggled closely against the one who hated him the most.
.oOoOo.
Warmth. It wasn’t much, but he could feel it starting to envelop him, bit by bit. There was something wrapped around him, lessening the coldness that cloaked him. He was still freezing, but it was definitely an improvement.
He wondered where it was coming from. He was half-asleep, his subconscious groggy and unfocused. He couldn’t remember where he was, nor did he feel any immediate need to know. But it was still so cold…
Something warm and soft pressed itself to the crook of his neck. Much better. It felt…nice.
So nice, in fact, that he instinctively circled his arms around the source of heat and tugged it closer to him.
It was much more comfortable now, and in no time he could feel himself being pulled back into the world of dreams…
.oOoOo.
A stinging coldness came into contact with his skin, but he ignored it. Even though the cold pained him, it was ironically comfortable. His arms were practically enfolding the cold thing, whatever it was…he couldn’t recall, right now. He could feel his lips pressed against something cold but smooth and soft. He could practically taste it. He subconsciously parted his lips and licked the cold smooth surface, and the salty and delicious taste of skin assaulted his mouth.
Wait a second…skin?!
Loki’s eyes flew open, and he hurriedly retracted his grasp on whatever he was holding, scrambling up to a sitting position with his feet tucked neatly beneath him.
He stared in horror as realization set in. The cold thing he had held tight in his embrace was Heimdall, and what he had been sampling with his tongue was the slope of the purple-haired god’s neck.
He was practically necking Heimdall! What the hell was he doing?!
Loki took several deep breaths, trying to stop his heart from going a hundred beats per second, and gathered his thoughts. He had felt that he owed Heimdall a favor for not letting him drown, so he had tried to help him. He felt sleepy, so he lay down beside Heimdall and threw his arm around him, reasoning that the body heat would help the other god’s condition somewhat. Somewhere along the line, he had tightened his hold on the Watcher, and Heimdall, unconsciously feeling the warmth, instinctively latched onto Loki.
And that led to…whatever Loki had previously been doing.
Loki could feel his cheeks heating up as he reflected on exactly what he had been doing. He had been unconscious, but even so…
It was a good thing that Heimdall was fast asleep, or Loki would have had more to deal with. Like figuring out how to stop the blood from rushing up to his face, for one.
He took several more deep breaths until he finally calmed down. He solemnly swore to himself that he would never, ever stay within a ten-meter radius of the crimson-eyed god ever again.
Of course, he couldn’t exactly fulfill that vow now, and it was only now that he noticed just how tiny their little sanctuary really was. Heimdall was still asleep, and Loki was slightly annoyed that the other god was blissfully unaware of the trauma that could have befallen him had he been awake-the trauma that Loki was currently undergoing alone.
Loki was glaring at the sleeping god, when the light in the cavern shifted and fell directly on Heimdall’s face, highlighting his features.
Like an angel, was Loki’s immediate thought, before he shook his head violently and wondered, What the heck is wrong with me?
He swallowed hard, and at that moment he remembered what it felt like to run his tongue over the other’s skin, vividly recalling the taste of salt water and something that was distinctly Heimdall’s.
It was only to keep him warm, his mind protested, but he ignored the voice inside his mind as he slowly drew closer to Heimdall once again, unable to stop himself.
He gently placed a hand on Heimdall’s forehead and almost instantaneously retracted it. The cold stung him. After all this, Heimdall was still freezing?
There was no other choice. Loki knew, in his current form, that he could not transfer the heat emanating from himself to another person externally. The only way he could do that was to find an opening into which he could pour the heat into…
Leaving him with only one option. The only way to directly give Heimdall the heat he needed had similar mechanics to the CPR that the Watcher was about to perform on Loki before…and that meant contact through the mouth.
As Loki straddled Heimdall, put both hands on either side of the other’s head, and lowered his head to catch the other’s lips with his own, he refused to listen to the voice at the back of his head that said that he wanted this…and needed it.
.oOoOo.
Heimdall felt weightless. His eyes still closed, he was vaguely aware of a vast amount of warm energy slipping down his throat and spreading into his insides, and it felt good for his icy bones. He drank in the warmth, willingly letting the source in. It was pure bliss to no longer be subjected to intense cold, and his mind went blank as he sucked on the source with wild abandon, wanting more and more until he could stop feeling the iciness inside him.
Above him, Loki almost pulled back in surprise as Heimdall’s arms snaked around his neck and forced him downwards, deepening the kiss. Was it a kiss? It felt like one…more so now that Loki was quite sure that he had transferred enough heat into Heimdall for him to be safe. Even if it wasn’t enough, though, Loki wouldn’t have been able to finish anyway, as his concentration broke as soon as he could feel Heimdall’s tongue roaming around the inside of his mouth.
But Loki still didn’t withdraw. It felt good, and who was there to say it was wrong? His heart was beating faster each passing moment, and he could feel something burning within him-the desire to hold the purple-haired god against him and experience the sensation of his lips against the other’s for as long as possible.
He no longer cared about the fact that they were enemies. The rivalry, the bitterness, the cold, piercing hatred…everything was pointless.
Somewhere along the line, his detestation for his arch nemesis had dissolved into something else. He realized now that it had always been there, ever since he found out that Heimdall no longer wished to have him dead, although the fact that the purple-haired god had taken the alternative of making his life in Midgard a living hell was only a slight improvement.
He wasn’t entirely sure of what that something was, but it was what prevented him from pulling away.
.oOoOo.
It was enough. The flow of energy entering into Heimdall’s mouth had stopped, and he settled for letting the warmth spreading into every inch of his body.
The source of the energy was still over his mouth, throbbing with a sensation that still made his mouth feel hot. He skimmed his tongue all over the source, savoring the sweet taste until he was sated.
It was only then that he became aware of something heavy on top of him. Filled with renewed energy, his senses were awakened and he opened his eyes.
Only to find out that he was unmistakably engaged in a passionate lip lock with Loki.
His sanguine eyes widened and he pushed the trickster god off him with one swift movement.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Heimdall yelled, not realizing that that was the exact same thing that Loki had said to him only hours before. There was a mixture of contradicting emotions tearing through him-shock and rage that Loki had the gall to do such a thing, relief that his entire body was no longer freezing, repulsion over how he had come to become warm in the first place, and...desire. It perplexed him to no end, but what he had just felt-what he had just tasted, made him ache for more.
But hell would freeze over before Heimdall admitted that he was attracted to Jasshin Loki.
The trickster god’s deep green eyes flashed with something that Heimdall recognized as hurt, but only for a split second. Then it faded once again into Loki’s trademark passive look. “Now we’re even.”
Heimdall’s mind whirled. Even? Even with what? With jumping each other while the other was asleep?
“You would’ve frozen otherwise, and that was the only way to keep you warm,” Loki stated matter-of-factly in a composed voice, an odd combination to the pinkish tinge on his cheeks.
Heimdall could feel his own face rapidly turning into the color of a ripe tomato, something that irritated him greatly. “And you said my attempt at reviving you was disgusting!”
The pink in Loki’s cheeks deepened. “Would you have liked it better if I just stood there and left you looking like a divine popsicle?” he demanded defensively.
“No, but you didn’t have to be so obscene with your twisted methods of ‘helping’ people!”
“There is nothing obscene about transferring energy through the mouth!”
“I wasn’t begging you to help me, was I?”
“You were asking for it!”
“What?! When have I ever asked you to swap spit with me?!”
“I wasn’t swapping spit; I was using a heat transfer spell! Besides, you were the one who was sucking on my mouth like there was no tomorrow!”
There was a moment of silence as both parties apprehended what they were yelling at each other, both faces turning into a shade of red previously unknown to man. Or gods, for that matter.
After what seemed like an eternity, Heimdall cleared his throat. “Let’s come to an agreement. You won’t tell anybody that I tried to revive you with mouth-er…CPR, and I won’t tell a soul about what…you…did…” he trailed off, apparently choking on the words.
Loki nodded absentmindedly, his unfocused eyes fixed on Heimdall’s moving lips.
A faint tinge of red spilled across Heimdall’s cheeks again. “Loki!” he said exasperatedly.
Loki snapped to. “Huh? Right…okay…”
Heimdall rolled his eyes. “Swear it, and if your tongue slips I’ll make sure to send you to your daughter’s domain for good!” he threatened.
Loki opened his mouth to reply, when he suddenly went rigid.
“Daddy!”
“Loki-sama!”
Heimdall looked at him with some degree of concern on his face. Then, realizing what he was doing, the purple-haired god put on an indifferent expression. “What’s wrong with you now?”
The trickster god stared at the water at the entrance of the cavern. “It’s Fenrir and Yamino-kun! The others are coming to fetch us.”
Heimdall’s indifferent expression turned to one that clearly stated that he thought Loki was out of his mind. “I don’t hear anything. Are you hearing voices in your head?” He looked quite disturbed.
“Quite literally,” Loki replied, and it was his turn to roll his eyes. “The Norns must have given them a hand with limited telepathy. They’ll be here any second now.”
Heimdall shrugged apathetically. All he wanted was to get out of that stuffy cave and away from Loki. Liar, his mind retorted, but he ignored it. “Whatever. We’d better wait for them.” He walked to the water’s edge and stood with his arms crossed over his chest, peering out into the piercing darkness before them.
Loki stood next to him, his bond with his sons telling him that they were getting nearer and nearer. Only a few seconds more and his moments alone with Heimdall would be over… “Oi, Heimdall.”
Heimdall glanced at him irritably, a little miffed for being interrupted from his careful watching. “What-?” he started to reply, and instantly felt Loki’s lips against his own. It was a brief kiss, but somehow Loki managed to slip his tongue into Heimdall’s mouth and explore the warm cavern before pulling away.
Heimdall was too stunned for a moment to react, and Loki smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry. My tongue slipped.”
A blank was drawn in Heimdall’s mind until he remembered what he had been saying to Loki before the auburn-haired god found out that the others were coming. “You…you retard! That wasn’t what I meant!”
Loki smirked. It was so much more fun to tease Heimdall this way.
“I’ll get back at you for doing that…” the purple-haired god went on threateningly.
Loki gave him a mischievous look. “Really? I can’t wait.”
Heimdall visibly reddened and struggled to sputter a reply when a furry black thing emerged from the water.
“Fenrir!” Loki exclaimed happily, completely ignoring Heimdall’s spluttered protests.
“Loki! Heimdall! You both holding up okay?” Narugami came next, stumbling out of the water, drenched from head to toe.
“We’re just fine, Narukami-kun…ne, Heimdall?” Loki said, glancing at Heimdall over his shoulder and winking.
The red in Heimdall’s cheeks deepened, and he was suddenly thankful that it was dark inside the cavern. “Tch,” he said, unable to rack his brain for a decent comeback.
Narugami carried the diminutive Loki, his arm around the trickster god’s waist, and stepped into the water again (“You’re a god and you don’t know how to swim?” “…shut up and go, Narukami-kun.”)
Heimdall followed at Narugami’ heels silently, the gears in his head already turning. If this was the way Loki wanted to play it, then he didn’t have any objections… This game of cat and mouse had made a complete one-eighty turn into something considerably different. In the weeks that would follow, the other gods would surely notice the changes.
The two of them could always say that it had all started one stormy day, when the need for warmth overcame one’s better judgment…
As Narugami, Fenrir, Loki and Heimdall were pulled back aboard Skidbladnir, practically all the females present huddled around Loki, overly concerned for his well-being.
And Heimdall froze, realizing with a start that the goddesses were still going to tear him limb for limb, once they found out about the part he played in drastically changing Loki’s preferences.
*in the Norse myths, the trickster god Loki stirred trouble once again in Asgard. The bottom line was that he was held accountable for the gods’ predicament and the solution he thought of was to turn into a mare and seduce the stallion Svadilfari. He (she?) disappeared with it for a few days and gave birth to the eight-legged horse Sleipnir, which Odin took for his own and made his official steed. If you want the whole story, go to a library and find a decent book on Norse Mythology. Er… I can’t remember who it was exactly who spilled to the gods that Loki was the culprit, so I just made it Heimdall so that Loki would have an insult to hurl back at him… ^_^
The first description of Loki was that he was the trickster god, god of lies and deception, yadda yadda yadda…but he was also mentioned as the god of destructive fire.
Fandom: Matantei Loki Ragnarok
Pairing: LokiHemu
Summary: When a beach trip goes awry, Loki and Heimdall find themselves stuck in an underwater cavern where the need for warmth is something that they can’t ignore.
Disclaimer: Matantei Loki Ragnarok belongs to Kinoshita Sakura, and whoever else got it licensed. The concept of the Norse gods originally belongs to the…Norse people. I only own the plot, and my strange interest in love/hate relationships.
<< originally posted 091005 >>
It would always baffle Loki how Mayura always managed to drag him to “super-fun outings” as she so aptly put it. It boggled him further how, when he, his two sons and Ecchan were dragged around by the pink-haired girl, the other gods somehow found their own ways of getting thrown into the mix. It was in such an event that all the gods who transmigrated to Midgard, the three Norns, a black puppy, a serpent in the guise of a human, a mechanical pig, a shikigami, and a mortal girl, were gathered at the beach one clear summer morning, cooking the food (Yamino), fighting over the food (Narugami and Fenrir), lounging under the sun (Urd, Verdandi and Loki), frolicking in the water (Mayura, Ecchan, Freyr…and a coerced Heimdall), fighting over Loki (Skuld and Freya), and generally causing a lot of chaos (pretty much everybody).
…it was a blessing from the gods, then, that they were at a private beach; otherwise they would’ve been kicked out. But since most of them were gods anyway, it really wasn’t a mystery worth pondering over.
“Minna, the food is ready!” Yamino announced cheerfully while holding up a plate of steaming picnic goodies, and was instantaneously tackled by Narugami and Fenrir, who started gobbling up the food as if tomorrow were going to be Ragnarök.
“No, Freyr you idiot, I do not want to play water polo with you and Gullinbursti,” Heimdall was remarking crossly to the whining brown-haired god who was being buoyed by his faithful boar.
“Heimdall isn’t any fun! Come, Gullinbursti, let us go ask Yamato Nadeshiko …” Freyr went off in Mayura’s direction.
The watcher god, at the end of his patience after putting up with Freyr’s antics, scanned the shore for something more interesting to look at than the two childish people splashing him accidentally with copious amounts of sea water and a robot pig that was doing a poor imitation of a whale. His sanguine eyes landed on the diminutive Loki, who was currently the topic and victim of Freya and Skuld’s argument, the subject of debate being who had the right to rub sun block on the trickster god’s back. Loki’s emerald eyes were darting about, silently pleading for help as his cursed form lacked the physical strength to break free from the two female deities’ hold on either of his arms. Unfortunately for him, the three people who he could rely on to bail him out were engaged in an all-out food war, and the two older Norns were too amused over his predicament to bother to help.
As was Heimdall. Loki’s glance fell on his purple-haired arch nemesis and all the latter did was smirk and wave mockingly in Loki’s direction. Loki glared. Heimdall snickered.
Heimdall suddenly thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that Freyr dragged him into this little get-together. After all, it meant a whole day of torturing Loki, if he was resourceful enough to find ways to do so. One who wished to one up Loki needed as much cunning as the trickster god himself.
Loki managed to wriggle free from Freya and Skuld and started to edge away from the still-bickering goddesses. It didn’t escape Heimdall’s sharp eyes that Loki, for a split second, registered a repulsed look at the water that was mere inches from his tiny toes.
Heimdall’s smirk widened. He knew just how to make Loki’s day even worse.
.oOoOo.
Around mid-afternoon, when the sun wasn’t as glaringly hot as a few hours ago, the energetic and high-spirited Mayura once again managed to make all the deities do her bidding as she pleaded Loki to let them take a boat ride out to sea. Freyr, wanting to get his Yamato Nadeshiko’s attention away from Loki, summoned his gigantic ship Skidbladnir, getting for his trouble a thorough whacking from all the gods present (especially Heimdall) for using his powers in broad daylight in front of a mortal.
Fortune smiled upon the gods once again, as it had countless times before, because Mayura was too excited over the prospect of a boat ride to wonder how on earth a ship of vast proportions could materialize from thin air. Everyone boarded Skidbladnir and the ship set sail, moving swiftly away from the shore.
Loki was huddled in the corner; looking a little green around the gills (he hated riding on boats as much as he hated riding in cars…or maybe even more, as there was water involved). The fact that Heimdall was occasionally giving him smug looks didn’t ease his nerves one bit.
…..he just knew something bad was about to happen. When did a run-in with any of the other gods of Asgard ever result in a peaceful occurrence?
Mayura let out a scream, and Loki’s head immediately snapped up in concern. The pink-haired girl was jumping up and down excitedly, and it became clear to Loki that she wasn’t in any sort of danger.
“Kyaaa…look everyone, there’s a dolphin! Ooh, there are more over there! Loki-kun, come here and see this! Kawaii!!!” Mayura jumped up and down, pointing at five or six dolphins about fifteen feet away from Skidbladnir. All the others present hurried to the side of the ship, marveling at the long-snouted animals, a sight that they never saw back in Asgard.
All except Loki. He was still sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, and only reluctantly went over to where the others were when Mayura forcibly dragged him there.
“Over there, Loki-kun! Aren’t they cute?” Mayura said happily, and Loki’s eyes followed the direction pointed out by her index finger. As soon as Loki stood still, Mayura moved on to the other passengers of Skidbladnir not too far off and rattled on about how amazing the dolphins were. Loki leaned against the side of the ship and fixed his gaze on the dolphins playing in the water, starting to relax and watch in fascination as the dolphins jumped and created a perfect arc while airborne before splashing back into the sea…
The next thing Loki knew, he was toppling over the side of the ship, heading straight for the dolphins he had been intently looking at.
.oOoOo.
“Oops.”
Loki’s eyes widened a fraction as he saw Heimdall’s smirking face above him, and in one fluid motion acted upon by pure instinct, he grabbed the hand responsible for his fall and yanked the purple-haired god with him.
“Hey, what are you-AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”
All heads turned toward the end of the ship, where the shout came from. What the others saw was a blur of purple, black and auburn colliding with the water with a loud splash and disappearing beneath the surface.
“Loki!”
“Heimdall!”
“Loki-kun!!! Higashiyama-kun!!!”
“Loki-sama!!!”
“DADDY!!!!!!”
.oOoOo.
Water. Water. WATER…
It was the only word that filled Loki’s head as he struggled against Heimdall’s death grip on him, and it was the only thing that threatened him from all sides, choking him, drowning him…
He kicked wildly out at Heimdall, who quickly evaded but never let go of his arms. In Heimdall’s opinion, if Loki had to drag him down with him (thus spoiling his plan of staying nice and dry on the ship whilst amusedly watching Loki flail his arms about helplessly out to sea), then he might as well make the most of it and refuse to let Loki break to the surface and relish the look of terror on the trickster god’s face for as long as his own breath could hold out.
Loki managed to slap Heimdall’s right hand away and used the Watcher as leverage to propel himself to the surface. Heimdall, who was not very pleased with having his head being stepped on, grabbed Loki’s foot and dragged him down before he could get that much-needed breath of salt air. Another underwater struggle ensued between the two until the need for air became too dire and they were forced to surface, gasping heavily.
“LOKI-KUN!!!” Mayura’s voice was screaming hysterically from above, and the two gods looked up to see Narugami and Freyr preparing two lifesavers on one end of a rope, attaching the other end to the ship.
They never got to use them. Because as soon as Narugami and Freyr threw the lifesavers overboard, a gigantic wave appeared in front of Skidbladnir, rocking the ship almost to its side. Several female screams (most calling out Loki’s name) were heard.
When the wave subsided, Loki and Heimdall were nowhere to be found.
.oOoOo.
Cold. It was the first thing that popped into Heimdall’s mind as he recovered from the impact of the wave that had wiped out both him and Loki. His slightly blurred vision told him that he was about thirty feet below the surface. Suddenly the water felt extremely heavy. He looked around, trying to locate the trickster god and found him not too far away at about the same depth where Heimdall was. Loki’s eyes were closed.
Unconscious, Heimdall thought with dismay. Damn you, Loki, for passing out at a time like this! Another look above gave him another piece of bad news-he couldn’t see the hull of Freyr’s ship anywhere in sight. He knew enough about Midgard waters to know that a wave like the one they encountered was more often or not followed by another series of surges. It usually happened during a storm, but who could guarantee natural patterns when there were gods involved? It was probably Odin’s way of showing his disapproval of Loki and his supposed assassins’ big happy summer trip.
Lungs starting to burn, Heimdall swam towards Loki and wrapped an arm around the diminutive god’s waist, using all the energy he could muster to bring them to the surface. He had only enough time to breathe in a lungful of air before another wave brought them back under. There was no chance of being able to safely resurface until all the waves stopped, and that was highly unlikely. His split-second glimpse at the sky showed that a storm was brewing-and a big one, at that.
There was nothing for it. The only options were either to miraculously come across an island, or stay underwater and let the waves pass them by until it was safe enough to resurface.
Neither choice seemed very promising, and at the rate this catastrophe was going, Heimdall suspected that both his and Loki’s cursed bodies would give out and they would soon drown. He frantically looked around with all the shreds of hope he had for somewhere to escape. His trained watcher eyes spotted an underwater cave. It was his last resort, and he prayed that the Allfather cared enough about his own son not to let him die in a place like this.
.oOoOo.
He didn’t pray in vain. The opening was the entrance to a short natural tunnel that led to a dry cavern that gave them the air they desperately needed. Coughing and sputtering, the purple-haired god dragged Loki onto dry ground and lay down beside him, completely exhausted. He filled his lungs with as much air as they could hold until he finally caught his breath. With sore limbs, he lifted himself up to a sitting position and surveyed the natural chamber they were in. There was no opening leading to an exit except for where they had come from, and the little light that permeated into the space came from a few cracks on the ceiling of the cave.
Heimdall sighed, figuring they would be stuck here for another couple of hours before they could safely return to the surface, and even then they couldn’t be assured of an instant rescue. He turned to glare down at Loki, deciding that he would hurl all the insults he could think of at the trickster god once he woke up, when he saw something that made his blood run cold.
Loki wasn’t breathing.
Heimdall’s inner voice poured forth a myriad of colorful profanities that would put the worst delinquents to shame. He stared long and hard at Loki as if trying to melt him with a death glare would instantly revive him. Two seconds… Five seconds… He grabbed Loki’s shoulders and shook the other god hard.
“Oi, Loki! Wake up! You can’t die here, you pathetic excuse of a god!” What was he going to do? He didn’t actually have the intention of getting Loki killed…although that had been the reason he had gone to Midgard in the first place. But for some unexplainable reason, he had mellowed down into…this, where he was content with just giving Loki hell and pissing him off to the point of near insanity.
He had to save Loki…or there would be hell to pay from the trickster god’s many divine admirers. Add to that his two protective sons…
Shaking his head to clear the horrifying image of all the goddesses tearing him limb from limb, he thought hard about how to revive Loki without the aid of magic. How could he get air into the other god’s lungs…?
Heimdall froze as his crimson eyes settled on Loki’s unmoving lips. No. Way. There was no way he was going to…
Just do it!!! His mind, and possibly the imaginary voices of a bunch of shrieking goddesses, screamed at him.
Heimdall swallowed hard and leaned over Loki, taking a deep breath and slowly lowering his mouth to the other’s…
…and suddenly a pair of emerald eyes shot wildly open, and the owner let out a scream that sent Heimdall toppling backwards, almost back into the water.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Loki exclaimed, scampering up to a sitting position and backing away towards the wall, a traumatized expression on his rapidly reddening face.
Heimdall glowered at him, a little disturbed that he could feel his own cheeks heating up as well. “Don’t get any ideas, idiot! I was only trying to save your life before you screeched like a banshee and almost shattered my eardrums!” he retorted, wondering when he had lost control of the blood vessels in his cheeks.
“Do you know how disturbing…you…what?” Loki’s freaked-out countenance changed to one of blank shock and he stared at Heimdall, who turned away and muttered something about not repeating the statement again.
“Stupid moron doesn’t even know how to show any gratitude…” Heimdall said darkly.
Loki glared at Heimdall’s back. “Well, I’m sorry for assuming that you were going to assault me because that was exactly what it looked like…”
“And I’m sorry that you’re so mentally incapacitated that your tiny brain can’t comprehend the mechanics of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation…”
“I’m so sorry that you’re such a tightwad that everybody thinks you’ve got a stick up your ass…”
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t just abandon you out there so that I would get some peace of mind at last…”
Loki smirked, ignoring the sardonic comment about saving his life. “You’re right; your mind has never exactly been stable, what with your psychotic tendencies!”
If looks could kill, then Loki would have dropped dead from the expression on Heimdall’s face. “I have psychotic tendencies? I’m not the one who got laid with a giant’s stallion and gave birth to an eight-legged horse*!”
The trickster god frowned. “If you didn’t tell on me, then I wouldn’t have had to do that in the first place!”
“Bestiality freak!”
“Tattletale!”
“Horse whore!”
“You’re just bitter because you never got laid in all the millennia of your existence!”
“At least I wasn’t desperate enough to turn into a female beast just to get any!”
Loki screamed in exasperation. “Will you quit it about the whole getting laid with a horse thing already?!”
Heimdall snickered. “…you scream like a girl.”
“I do not!”
“You do too!”
“Ugh! Just shut up, Heimdall!”
“You shut up!”
“Fine!”
”Fine!”
Loki turned his back on Heimdall, resolutely facing the wall. Their (somewhat petty) argument had flared him up quite a bit, but now he could feel the cold seeping into his skin. Taking a quick glance behind him, he could see that Heimdall was shivering as well.
It seemed that they were looking ahead toward several hours of being trapped inside the drafty cavern, which was going to be quite a problem. But Loki was the god of fire*, so he was pretty much assured of not catching pneumonia even in the freezing temperature. Though his powers were limited because of his cursed form, and almost all his energy depleted from almost drowning, he had enough strength left to give off a burning aura, thus effectively warming up his body.
All the while, he could feel Heimdall’s penetrating glare at the back of his neck, but Loki ignored him, still fuming about the other god’s jibe about his outlandish affair from times long past.
It took Loki almost twenty minutes to completely dry himself, and just like a million times before, he cursed the fact that he was stuck in this body, completely drained with just a simple heating spell.
He looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see that Heimdall had fallen asleep, curled up near the water’s edge. Loki supposed that Heimdall had tired himself out from glaring too much. Now that he was sure that he was safe from any kind of threat from the Watcher, he leaned against the wall and contented himself with just staring at Heimdall’s sleeping form.
It was almost surreal how the purple-haired god could look so peaceful and undisturbed when he was deep in slumber. You wouldn’t know what an insecure bastard he really is when he’s awake, Loki thought with a pout, pulling his knees up to his chest to maximize the heat spreading through his tiny frame.
A particularly cold draft invaded the small space from the cracks above, and Heimdall shivered. Loki noticed, a little troubled, that the other god’s skin was deathly pale, and his lips were borderline blue. He had the split second notion of helping Heimdall, but dismissed it immediately.
Besides, with his limited powers, he was unable of spreading the warmth inside his body to another host with his hands. And he was completely exhausted himself…
You’re just saying that to alleviate your guilt, a voice within him chided. Must be his conscience.
Loki didn’t even know he had a conscience. Being banished to Midgard really must have made him go soft.
Why don’t you help him? You know you can. You just won’t.
Archenemies aren’t meant to help each other, Loki’s evil side retaliated.
But he already broke that rule, didn’t he?
I didn’t ask him to, the other voice grumbled.
He saved your life. He could have left you to drown, you know.
Loki sighed. He did know, and he didn’t like it one bit. Nor did he like the fact that he was in Heimdall’s debt.
The auburn-haired god in a little boy’s form reluctantly left his warm post huddled up against the wall, trudged slowly towards the sleeping god and kneeled beside him. Loki hesitantly reached out for Heimdall’s shoulder and shook him hard.
“Heimdall… Oi, Heimdall! Wake up!”
No response.
Loki shook Heimdall harder. “Wake up…do you want to catch a cold, or any of those other annoying mortal illnesses?!” the diminutive god screamed in the other’s ear.
Still no effect. Loki let out a frustrated groan. For a deity who was the Watchman of the gods, and was supposed to be able to sleep with one eye open and have hearing so sharp he could hear the grass growing, Heimdall sure was a deep sleeper.
Maybe that’s why Odin kicked him out of Asgard, for being such a lousy watchman, Loki thought with a snicker, but soon returned to the task at hand.
Ten minutes later, Loki was ready to tear his hair out. He had tried screaming ten decibels louder into Heimdall’s ear, pulled his hair, shook him violently, pinched his arms, kicked him, and even splashed his face with a little more water (which only worsened the state he was already in), all to no avail. There was no waking Heimdall up. Was he that exhausted after swimming for so long with so little air, that he couldn’t care less if he let his guard fall completely and fell into the throes of sleep? Or did he actually have any semblance of trust in Loki that he would willingly make himself vulnerable in the trickster god’s presence?
Loki didn’t really know, and he was too tired to ponder the inner workings of his supposedly worst enemy. He wondered why he had made such a huge effort to awaken Heimdall, when he could have used the precious time to rest himself and regain his energy.
He yawned, feeling his own eyelids growing heavier. Sleep was overcoming him, and he didn’t realize that he had curled himself up beside Heimdall and thrown an arm around the other’s hip. Heimdall’s skin was ice-cold, but Loki didn’t care anymore. Anything to make the other god warm. He did owe this to him…
Soon enough, Loki himself started drifting off into blissful sleep…unaware that he was snuggled closely against the one who hated him the most.
.oOoOo.
Warmth. It wasn’t much, but he could feel it starting to envelop him, bit by bit. There was something wrapped around him, lessening the coldness that cloaked him. He was still freezing, but it was definitely an improvement.
He wondered where it was coming from. He was half-asleep, his subconscious groggy and unfocused. He couldn’t remember where he was, nor did he feel any immediate need to know. But it was still so cold…
Something warm and soft pressed itself to the crook of his neck. Much better. It felt…nice.
So nice, in fact, that he instinctively circled his arms around the source of heat and tugged it closer to him.
It was much more comfortable now, and in no time he could feel himself being pulled back into the world of dreams…
.oOoOo.
A stinging coldness came into contact with his skin, but he ignored it. Even though the cold pained him, it was ironically comfortable. His arms were practically enfolding the cold thing, whatever it was…he couldn’t recall, right now. He could feel his lips pressed against something cold but smooth and soft. He could practically taste it. He subconsciously parted his lips and licked the cold smooth surface, and the salty and delicious taste of skin assaulted his mouth.
Wait a second…skin?!
Loki’s eyes flew open, and he hurriedly retracted his grasp on whatever he was holding, scrambling up to a sitting position with his feet tucked neatly beneath him.
He stared in horror as realization set in. The cold thing he had held tight in his embrace was Heimdall, and what he had been sampling with his tongue was the slope of the purple-haired god’s neck.
He was practically necking Heimdall! What the hell was he doing?!
Loki took several deep breaths, trying to stop his heart from going a hundred beats per second, and gathered his thoughts. He had felt that he owed Heimdall a favor for not letting him drown, so he had tried to help him. He felt sleepy, so he lay down beside Heimdall and threw his arm around him, reasoning that the body heat would help the other god’s condition somewhat. Somewhere along the line, he had tightened his hold on the Watcher, and Heimdall, unconsciously feeling the warmth, instinctively latched onto Loki.
And that led to…whatever Loki had previously been doing.
Loki could feel his cheeks heating up as he reflected on exactly what he had been doing. He had been unconscious, but even so…
It was a good thing that Heimdall was fast asleep, or Loki would have had more to deal with. Like figuring out how to stop the blood from rushing up to his face, for one.
He took several more deep breaths until he finally calmed down. He solemnly swore to himself that he would never, ever stay within a ten-meter radius of the crimson-eyed god ever again.
Of course, he couldn’t exactly fulfill that vow now, and it was only now that he noticed just how tiny their little sanctuary really was. Heimdall was still asleep, and Loki was slightly annoyed that the other god was blissfully unaware of the trauma that could have befallen him had he been awake-the trauma that Loki was currently undergoing alone.
Loki was glaring at the sleeping god, when the light in the cavern shifted and fell directly on Heimdall’s face, highlighting his features.
Like an angel, was Loki’s immediate thought, before he shook his head violently and wondered, What the heck is wrong with me?
He swallowed hard, and at that moment he remembered what it felt like to run his tongue over the other’s skin, vividly recalling the taste of salt water and something that was distinctly Heimdall’s.
It was only to keep him warm, his mind protested, but he ignored the voice inside his mind as he slowly drew closer to Heimdall once again, unable to stop himself.
He gently placed a hand on Heimdall’s forehead and almost instantaneously retracted it. The cold stung him. After all this, Heimdall was still freezing?
There was no other choice. Loki knew, in his current form, that he could not transfer the heat emanating from himself to another person externally. The only way he could do that was to find an opening into which he could pour the heat into…
Leaving him with only one option. The only way to directly give Heimdall the heat he needed had similar mechanics to the CPR that the Watcher was about to perform on Loki before…and that meant contact through the mouth.
As Loki straddled Heimdall, put both hands on either side of the other’s head, and lowered his head to catch the other’s lips with his own, he refused to listen to the voice at the back of his head that said that he wanted this…and needed it.
.oOoOo.
Heimdall felt weightless. His eyes still closed, he was vaguely aware of a vast amount of warm energy slipping down his throat and spreading into his insides, and it felt good for his icy bones. He drank in the warmth, willingly letting the source in. It was pure bliss to no longer be subjected to intense cold, and his mind went blank as he sucked on the source with wild abandon, wanting more and more until he could stop feeling the iciness inside him.
Above him, Loki almost pulled back in surprise as Heimdall’s arms snaked around his neck and forced him downwards, deepening the kiss. Was it a kiss? It felt like one…more so now that Loki was quite sure that he had transferred enough heat into Heimdall for him to be safe. Even if it wasn’t enough, though, Loki wouldn’t have been able to finish anyway, as his concentration broke as soon as he could feel Heimdall’s tongue roaming around the inside of his mouth.
But Loki still didn’t withdraw. It felt good, and who was there to say it was wrong? His heart was beating faster each passing moment, and he could feel something burning within him-the desire to hold the purple-haired god against him and experience the sensation of his lips against the other’s for as long as possible.
He no longer cared about the fact that they were enemies. The rivalry, the bitterness, the cold, piercing hatred…everything was pointless.
Somewhere along the line, his detestation for his arch nemesis had dissolved into something else. He realized now that it had always been there, ever since he found out that Heimdall no longer wished to have him dead, although the fact that the purple-haired god had taken the alternative of making his life in Midgard a living hell was only a slight improvement.
He wasn’t entirely sure of what that something was, but it was what prevented him from pulling away.
.oOoOo.
It was enough. The flow of energy entering into Heimdall’s mouth had stopped, and he settled for letting the warmth spreading into every inch of his body.
The source of the energy was still over his mouth, throbbing with a sensation that still made his mouth feel hot. He skimmed his tongue all over the source, savoring the sweet taste until he was sated.
It was only then that he became aware of something heavy on top of him. Filled with renewed energy, his senses were awakened and he opened his eyes.
Only to find out that he was unmistakably engaged in a passionate lip lock with Loki.
His sanguine eyes widened and he pushed the trickster god off him with one swift movement.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Heimdall yelled, not realizing that that was the exact same thing that Loki had said to him only hours before. There was a mixture of contradicting emotions tearing through him-shock and rage that Loki had the gall to do such a thing, relief that his entire body was no longer freezing, repulsion over how he had come to become warm in the first place, and...desire. It perplexed him to no end, but what he had just felt-what he had just tasted, made him ache for more.
But hell would freeze over before Heimdall admitted that he was attracted to Jasshin Loki.
The trickster god’s deep green eyes flashed with something that Heimdall recognized as hurt, but only for a split second. Then it faded once again into Loki’s trademark passive look. “Now we’re even.”
Heimdall’s mind whirled. Even? Even with what? With jumping each other while the other was asleep?
“You would’ve frozen otherwise, and that was the only way to keep you warm,” Loki stated matter-of-factly in a composed voice, an odd combination to the pinkish tinge on his cheeks.
Heimdall could feel his own face rapidly turning into the color of a ripe tomato, something that irritated him greatly. “And you said my attempt at reviving you was disgusting!”
The pink in Loki’s cheeks deepened. “Would you have liked it better if I just stood there and left you looking like a divine popsicle?” he demanded defensively.
“No, but you didn’t have to be so obscene with your twisted methods of ‘helping’ people!”
“There is nothing obscene about transferring energy through the mouth!”
“I wasn’t begging you to help me, was I?”
“You were asking for it!”
“What?! When have I ever asked you to swap spit with me?!”
“I wasn’t swapping spit; I was using a heat transfer spell! Besides, you were the one who was sucking on my mouth like there was no tomorrow!”
There was a moment of silence as both parties apprehended what they were yelling at each other, both faces turning into a shade of red previously unknown to man. Or gods, for that matter.
After what seemed like an eternity, Heimdall cleared his throat. “Let’s come to an agreement. You won’t tell anybody that I tried to revive you with mouth-er…CPR, and I won’t tell a soul about what…you…did…” he trailed off, apparently choking on the words.
Loki nodded absentmindedly, his unfocused eyes fixed on Heimdall’s moving lips.
A faint tinge of red spilled across Heimdall’s cheeks again. “Loki!” he said exasperatedly.
Loki snapped to. “Huh? Right…okay…”
Heimdall rolled his eyes. “Swear it, and if your tongue slips I’ll make sure to send you to your daughter’s domain for good!” he threatened.
Loki opened his mouth to reply, when he suddenly went rigid.
“Daddy!”
“Loki-sama!”
Heimdall looked at him with some degree of concern on his face. Then, realizing what he was doing, the purple-haired god put on an indifferent expression. “What’s wrong with you now?”
The trickster god stared at the water at the entrance of the cavern. “It’s Fenrir and Yamino-kun! The others are coming to fetch us.”
Heimdall’s indifferent expression turned to one that clearly stated that he thought Loki was out of his mind. “I don’t hear anything. Are you hearing voices in your head?” He looked quite disturbed.
“Quite literally,” Loki replied, and it was his turn to roll his eyes. “The Norns must have given them a hand with limited telepathy. They’ll be here any second now.”
Heimdall shrugged apathetically. All he wanted was to get out of that stuffy cave and away from Loki. Liar, his mind retorted, but he ignored it. “Whatever. We’d better wait for them.” He walked to the water’s edge and stood with his arms crossed over his chest, peering out into the piercing darkness before them.
Loki stood next to him, his bond with his sons telling him that they were getting nearer and nearer. Only a few seconds more and his moments alone with Heimdall would be over… “Oi, Heimdall.”
Heimdall glanced at him irritably, a little miffed for being interrupted from his careful watching. “What-?” he started to reply, and instantly felt Loki’s lips against his own. It was a brief kiss, but somehow Loki managed to slip his tongue into Heimdall’s mouth and explore the warm cavern before pulling away.
Heimdall was too stunned for a moment to react, and Loki smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry. My tongue slipped.”
A blank was drawn in Heimdall’s mind until he remembered what he had been saying to Loki before the auburn-haired god found out that the others were coming. “You…you retard! That wasn’t what I meant!”
Loki smirked. It was so much more fun to tease Heimdall this way.
“I’ll get back at you for doing that…” the purple-haired god went on threateningly.
Loki gave him a mischievous look. “Really? I can’t wait.”
Heimdall visibly reddened and struggled to sputter a reply when a furry black thing emerged from the water.
“Fenrir!” Loki exclaimed happily, completely ignoring Heimdall’s spluttered protests.
“Loki! Heimdall! You both holding up okay?” Narugami came next, stumbling out of the water, drenched from head to toe.
“We’re just fine, Narukami-kun…ne, Heimdall?” Loki said, glancing at Heimdall over his shoulder and winking.
The red in Heimdall’s cheeks deepened, and he was suddenly thankful that it was dark inside the cavern. “Tch,” he said, unable to rack his brain for a decent comeback.
Narugami carried the diminutive Loki, his arm around the trickster god’s waist, and stepped into the water again (“You’re a god and you don’t know how to swim?” “…shut up and go, Narukami-kun.”)
Heimdall followed at Narugami’ heels silently, the gears in his head already turning. If this was the way Loki wanted to play it, then he didn’t have any objections… This game of cat and mouse had made a complete one-eighty turn into something considerably different. In the weeks that would follow, the other gods would surely notice the changes.
The two of them could always say that it had all started one stormy day, when the need for warmth overcame one’s better judgment…
As Narugami, Fenrir, Loki and Heimdall were pulled back aboard Skidbladnir, practically all the females present huddled around Loki, overly concerned for his well-being.
And Heimdall froze, realizing with a start that the goddesses were still going to tear him limb for limb, once they found out about the part he played in drastically changing Loki’s preferences.
*in the Norse myths, the trickster god Loki stirred trouble once again in Asgard. The bottom line was that he was held accountable for the gods’ predicament and the solution he thought of was to turn into a mare and seduce the stallion Svadilfari. He (she?) disappeared with it for a few days and gave birth to the eight-legged horse Sleipnir, which Odin took for his own and made his official steed. If you want the whole story, go to a library and find a decent book on Norse Mythology. Er… I can’t remember who it was exactly who spilled to the gods that Loki was the culprit, so I just made it Heimdall so that Loki would have an insult to hurl back at him… ^_^
The first description of Loki was that he was the trickster god, god of lies and deception, yadda yadda yadda…but he was also mentioned as the god of destructive fire.