Loki: Holding back

[moonshadows]

“Okay,” Steve Rogers said, breathing hard after the bout but not yet winded, “let’s take a breather and talk.”

Loki had been in the process of relaxing after the first phrase, but the stiffness returned at the second.

“…about that,” Rogers continued grimly. “Loki, you’re a great guy and I’m really glad that you’re on our side. Openly on our side. Not that it wasn’t great having you watch our six from the shadows. If I had to pick someone to cover me secretly, Loki, it’d be you. Your brother’s also a great guy, and it’s not fair for anyone to compare the two of you, but we both know that’s going to happen no matter what just because the two of you are…well…gods.” He winced on the last word.

“We’re not-”

One wrapped hand waved the soft protest away. “I know. There’s only one God. But people don’t have a good word for what you are. You’re stronger, faster, tougher, and you’ll be around for much longer.”

“So will you.”

If the comment bothered Steve, he didn’t show it. “The thing is, Loki…Thor’s not here. Sure, he shows up once in a while when your father and his duties permit it, but he doesn’t live here. He’s a visitor, he’ll always be a visitor. Not like you. You live here. You’re a resident, a partner. I’ve seen more of you in the last week than I’ve seen of Thor in the last six months. I can’t count on him to be there to watch my six, Loki.” Earnest eyes held the Asgardian’s pale ones. “I can count on you. You’re not ‘Thor’s little brother’ here, Loki. You’re not the weak, sneaky one. Until you, I worked out on abused punching bags because I had no one who was my equal. You’re my equal, Loki. I took a dive into the ocean in the name of the land I love; you took a dive for yours. You’re clever, and you’re quick, and you’re not doing yourself any justice by acting like you’re still in Thor’s shadow. You’re not.”

Troubled, Loki held his tongue.

“I can see it in the way you move. You’re holding yourself back, as if you think you can’t win so you don’t even try, but on Earth…” Rogers laughed a little. “There’s hardly anyone who can stop you here, and you’re friends with most of them. You’re Stark’s wingman. You’re an Avenger. You’re a hero, Loki. It’s okay to act like one. You’re not the weak one here,” he continued sternly, seeing the doubt on the other man’s face, “and if you keep thinking of yourself like that, then you’ll hold back when someone’s counting on you to give it everything you’ve got.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yeah, well here’s another thing to think about. When Thor stops by? No one’s comparing you to him. They’re comparing him to you. You’re the standard he has to live up to. You going to lower the bar and make it easier on him?”

Loki chuckled, and Steve grinned.

“That’s what I thought. Alright, round thirty-seven, and this time don’t hold back, okay?”

Loki didn’t hold back.

 

“Hey Loki,” Steve called, grinning broadly from where he, Tony, and Bruce were clustered on one side of the ring. “Why are you holding back?”

Thor, who had been complimenting his brother on how much better a fighter he’d become, had just enough time to register astonishment before the uppercut caught him under the chin. His retaliatory strike swished harmlessly through an illusion, and one wrapped fist impacted solidly against his kidney but when he turned…Loki wasn’t there. The next few minutes were a dizzying and bewildering haze of being pummeled without ever landing a hit of his own and when he called the match finally, it was with a voice that wheezed. Loki stood, stone-faced and afraid, and when Thor straightened again he could see the fear for what it was.

“I am proud to have you as my brother, Loki,” he gasped, somehow finding the strength to sweep the slighter man into a crushing hug. “I hope that when the time comes, you will stand beside me and lend me your cunning, for there could be no greater weapon in all the Nine Realms than your mind.”

“Of course, brother,” murmured Loki.

“That’s our sneaky little weasel,” Stark called out smugly. “And now, I believe, you owe us fifteen minutes in a pink dress.”

Thor colored at the reminder of the bet he’d made: that he could not defeat his brother in a fight.

“One pink dress, coming right up.” Pale eyes twinkled as Loki extricated himself from his brother’s arms and worked the magic, and then Thor was practically smothered in ruffles and lace. While not the height of Midgardian fashion, it had been the popular style on Asgard a thousand years before, when both brothers were still children. “Everyone got your cameras? I doubt this will ever happen again.”

“Cameras are for chumps,” Stark shot back with a smug grin. “Jarvis?”

Obediently, the disembodied voice said, “Three-dimensional recording began as soon as Mr. Laufeyson completed his spell, and will continue for the duration.”

“Might I have a copy later, Tony?” Loki asked. “Darcy will be sorry she missed this.”

“Send her a picture text,” shot back Tony.

Grinning, Loki held up his phone. “Smile, brother.”

Reflexively, Thor smiled.

Tony has all the footage, but thought you and Pepper might like a preview. –L

Moments later, Stark’s phone chirped. He glanced at it, chuckled, and put it away. “Pepper says she doesn’t want to know, but she’s lying.”