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

endgame

Trigger warning's applied. Just so you know writing this chapter was a little bit... off my comfort zone. So yeah. I don't know what to say here. Though, for the sake of the plot and the thrill, I decided to divide this in two parts so you'd have to wait until the next chapter to see what happens next. Whoops.

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"You and I," Thor said, "we have a lot to talk,"

And so Peter found himself sitting on an armchair, still in Loki's room, Thor's own seat was in front of his. They were face to face, mindless of Loki still deep asleep in his own bed and a fox cub on Peter's lap. The surroundings that made it so easy to convince one this was nothing more than a chitchat between buddies, not a serious talk about someone's brother's post traumatic stress disorder and night terror about what sexual assault and abuse he'd been through. And just by thinking about it already made Peter uncomfortable.

Peter was never the one with the ability of keeping secrets - maybe this wasn't a secret, just something he knew better than to gossip about - he hadn't said a word about what actually happened to anyone. Perhaps it was because what actually happened still angered Peter as much as it must have been haunting Loki that Peter wished he could forget, pretend it never occurred and by pretending it never occurred, maybe then he could lie and convince himself it, in fact, never occurred. Peter wondered, once or twice, if his friend - if Loki was trying the same tactic; pretending that nothing happened, that it was just a nightmare he could wake up from (nightmare. Ha. Wasn't that ironic?)

"Sir," Peter trailed off. "What happened to your brother, I really don't think it's my place to run my mouth,"

"So he asked you not to tell me," by his tone, Peter knew it wasn't a question but a statement - which was true and false at the same time; Loki did not ask Peter not to tell Thor about Quentin. He asked Tony - pleaded with Tony - not to tell Thor. Peter doubted by clarifying that would make things better, so he kept his silence and let Thor make his own assumption.

Thor huffed a wry, painful laugh. "Will you not at least tell me who it is?"

Peter considered that for a moment. It wasn't that he had anything against Thor (Peter had nothing against Thor) but he was calculating how much he should say (if he should say anything at all) that wouldn't count as a betrayal to Loki. He knew Thor, just like his brother, was stubborn. He could be painfully stubborn, and Peter's outright denial in telling Thor who the offender was would likely going to bring out Thor's most stubborn side where Thor would all but threatening Peter with Stormbreaker against the skin of his throat until Peter caved and told him what he yearned to know.

"Please," something cracked in Thor's voice. The previous anger all but forgotten. Peter was never informed the Almighty God of Thunder could beg, certainly not of a high school teenager. The look in Thor's mismatched eyes and the desperation on Thor's face indicated Thor was this close to getting on his knees, begging for any information Peter might see fit to share. "He's my brother," Thor went on. "How is it fair that I'm the only one not having a clue what's going on with him? He - he hadn't been sleeping. I doubt he even ate. He's not well and you and everybody else know what is wrong. Everyone but me. I am his brother -"

Thor's voice cut off. Alarms blaring somewhere in the distance interrupted whatever words might have left his mouth, whatever words Peter might have gave. They both stopped. Startled. The alarms got louder, closer. Something was wrong.

"What happ-"

"Stay here," Thor cut Peter off as he rose on his feet, his hand itched for his beloved axe, but part of Thor still believed the situation may not be that bad that it required Stormbreaker. So he waited, carefully approaching the closed door.