My Best Friend's the God of Mischief // Peter x Loki

to love and to be loved

The kid wasn't home. Peter - Peter, right? Right, his name was Peter Benjamin Parker. Loki sat by the window, looking down there was not much to see, not an aesthetic sight of snow-covered street that left everything white, left the trees and branches under the blanket of pretty little crystals. It was snowing. But from the spot of Peter's room the only view Loki was given was of a dumpster at the back of the apartment and a tall, brick wall of other building. He'd have to tilt his head in an uncomfortable angle if he wished to admire the sky. Eventually Loki just let his cheek brush against the cold glass, it was so cold he could see his own breath leaving his lips in small, misty cloud. Which wasn't a problem for Loki, he didn't mind the cold, and here, being able to see his breath counted as a constant reminder that he was alive. He was breathing. Loki needed the reminder. He knew he'd go completely insane without them.

That morning when Peter looped the backpack's strap around one of his shoulders and realization hit Loki that he was going to be alone he must've made some sort of expression he didn't aware it was showing because Peter said, "It won't be that long. I'll come back before you know it, and if you need anything you can call."

Peter had given him a burner phone he got from a small shop just six blocks away from the apartment. Only one number saved in it: Peter's. Who else would Mister Loki need to call? Mister Thor? He wasn't even on Earth, the shitty signal didn't cover the outer space for Christ's sake!

Part of Loki hated himself for showing the kid his weakness. Hated himself for how weak he'd become. He used to be a lone wolf, but after Thanos, Loki feared his darkest thoughts would raise when he was all by himself, feared the voices would get louder, even feared the Mad Titan would return and finish where he'd left. Unconsciously he brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them as he watched the snowflakes falling. It would've been comforting, if he wasn't haunted by those memories that wouldn't go away.

Loki was afraid to close his eyes, afraid that if he did, he would be taken back to Statesman where he was witnessing his brother's skull burnt in the grip of the monster's hand. That's why he refused to sleep despite how exhausted he still was. His body felt so sore as though he'd been dragged along the floor that was covered in sharp pieces of glass. His throat was the worst. It hurt to swallow. Loki could still feel the deadly pressure of Thanos' hand that gave him such strong urge to claw at his own neck, trying to pry what-wasn't-even-there away. It wasn't the first time Loki caught himself bringing his hand up toward the spot only to stop mid-way and jerk the hand away. He hugged his knees tightly, concentrating on the fingers of his two hands intertwining with one another, concentrating to keep it there; around his knees and not clawing frantically at his own throat.

The kid had also left him orange juice, easy to swallow, he had said, but Loki lost all the appetite It seemed. He sighed, counting seconds. Anything to keep his mind busy so he wouldn't think of Thor or Thanos or his near-death experience. Though it didn't take long till the silence became too much. Loki swung his legs down the windowsill and, well ever since he woke up he hadn't really explored his surroundings, not that he wanted to be that type of a man, but he couldn't sit there and do nothing because he knew he was already on the very verge of going insane.

He walked around the room, eyeing the kid's stuff without paying much attention; there were books in which Loki picked some of it up, scanning through pages they weren't anything like those in Asgard's library. Just text books that actually caught Loki off guard a little to see they teach kids Peter's age something so easy. In Asgard this was what three-year-olds learned in school. Not teenagers. No wonder why Midgardians were so... behind. He placed the book down, and continued picking up stuff after stuff till he accidentally picked up a piece of clothing and quickly threw it away the second he knew what it was; the kid's underwear. Ewwww gross! Loki scrunched up his face, terrified. Were all of Midgardians like this; just placed their dirty underwear around wherever they wanted? No wonder why Thor got along with them so well.