KISSES: (perma accepting)
“You know, I’ve never really been a fan of ice.”
But here he is, sitting in a room crusted in it. The suit is insulated, he’s got superhuman defenses. But there’s still a chill in his bones that no amount of warmth will wash away.
“I was a skinny kid. Never could get warm in the winter time. Even with three pairs of socks on and my coat. And then the plane…”
Sometimes, he still feels it. A weird kind of deja vu where he can hear the crackle of the radio and the vibration of the stick in his hands. It’s not real. He knows that. It still freezes him out.
Sitting on the floor of a half frozen room, watching the unmoving chest, blue skin just visible above his collar. Steve’s glad he’s on his back, glad he doesn’t have to see the mess a couple of super soldier powered hollow points left in a man who was just…a man.
No magic, no tricks. Just Loki.
Just Loki who took two bullets to the chest to keep Steve safe, and to buy time for Tony to get Peter downstairs, and into the safe room.
“I should have said something.” It’s another sentiment he has to carry with him. Just the latest in a mouthful of regrets that time can’t undo. “Stark gave me hell about it. He kept telling me to take you out. Said that if I asked, you’d jump. But I couldn’t…”
Steve sniffles, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. “I couldn’t convince myself it wouldn’t just be an out for you. You always worried Fury would have a bullet waiting for you. Why not take the guy who’s bullet proof out with you? Good protection.”
He drops his head, a wounded sound caught in his throat. “You shouldn’t have done it. Not for me. I could’ve taken it. I could have protected you-”
Steve lifts a chilly, dead weight hand and lifts it so that he can press his lips against the palm, before he puts the hand back carefully over Loki’s chest.
“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”
