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Sam opened the door to what looked like a two person war in progress over the couch. It took him a few startled moments to recognize Loki’s pale, slender arms clutching at still clothed shoulders and another moment to realize that he could only see three hands and the strangled, half snarls were not really snarls at all.
“Oh Jesus,” he said, and turned around in a hurry, feeling like his face was on fire. “Shit – Loki-”
“Well fuck, is that your roommate?” said an altogether too familiar voice, and oh god, really? Really? “Um. This is awkward.”
Loki’s voice was faint and a little ragged, breathless. “Sam – I’m sorry, I am – get off, Stark – I did not intend-”
“It’s fine,” Sam said hurriedly, “It’s fine, just - I’m going to just – go out, give you guys a minute,” and he exited the apartment in a hurry, standing awkwardly in the stairwell and trying very hard not to think about…anything.
Tony Stark emerged a few moments later, looking disheveled, flushed, and only a little disgruntled. He gave Sam a grin and a jaunty little wave that Sam returned with a wan smile. “See you round, Winchester,” he said, nearly cheerily. Sam took a moment to gather himself before stepping back into the apartment. Loki looked even more obviously debauched than Tony had, and it made Sam want to blush. Loki, at least, had the grace to look slightly self-conscious.
“I am sorry,” Loki said. “I had not intended to…” His cheeks went very slightly pink. “Stark is rather more…”
“Okay,” Sam said quickly, before they could get any further down that road. “Yeah, I. Uh. Noticed. Um…this is new? You and Tony Stark…”
“We are not dating,” Loki said, almost too hastily. And then paused, and added, “At least, I am fairly sure.”
“Good,” Sam said, a little bit vehemently. “Because I’m pretty sure based on the little I know about him and the somewhat more I know about you that that would be a terrible idea.”
“I have absolutely no interest in him,” Loki said. He didn’t so much as glance an inch from Sam’s face when he said it.
Oh, shit, Sam thought. He crossed his arms. “Uh huh,” he said, in a tone that he thought eloquently expressed his total disbelief.
Loki lifted his chin slightly, almost but not quite defiant. “Are you going to disapprove?” There was something faintly snide and aggressive to his tone. Sam did not rise to the bait.
“Mostly I just want to know if walking in on my roommate reenacting something from Dean’s bad pornos is going to be a regular occurrence.”
“Oh no,” said Loki, “If this were one of ‘Dean’s bad pornos’, you would just join.”
Sam choked on that, a little. “No,” he said, after recovering. “Just…no. So, um. How long have you been…” Sam made a vague hand gesture. Loki raised one eyebrow.
“Fucking?”
“I was going to say ‘together,’ but go ahead and make this a little more awkward than it already is,” Sam said, though good-naturedly. Mostly. He was resisting the urge to facepalm hard enough to leave a bruise. “Honestly, though, Loki-”
“I know what I’m doing.” Loki crossed his arms, his flush fading. “And I will thank you not to question my judgment.”
Sam opened his mouth and then closed it. I believe that, he was tempted to say, it’s just that, historically, what you do has not always been great for you. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and then added, “Just try to not be naked in the living room next time I come home?”
“Such exacting standards,” Loki drawled, and plucked up his jacket, slung it over his shoulder. “Now, on account of your untimely interruption…”
“Oh, cut it out,” Sam snapped, feeling his face blush bright red. “You are such a dick.”
Maybe, he told himself, it wouldn’t end in a train wreck. Maybe this could be a good thing. Stark might be an asshole, but Loki could be too. Maybe they’d take the edge off each other.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
By Monday Loki and Tony were officially an item. Half the people Sam heard talking thought Loki was out of his league; the other half thought it was Tony. He heard of at least three betting pools on how long until it imploded, and one guy bitching about catching them mid-blowjob in a recently vacated classroom.
Sam kept his head down and tried not to engage. At least right up until someone made the comment in his hearing that Tony could do much better than “that faggoty goth weirdo.” Then he retreated back to their apartment, in a decidedly foul mood, and tried to clear his head by doing some homework.
Loki got back a few hours later, thankfully alone, and in a stunningly good mood. Sam glanced up and was faintly relieved to see that he was alone.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re everyone’s new favorite gossip magnet.”
Loki grinned. “I know. Isn’t it marvelous?” He sounded almost euphoric. The last time Sam had heard him this happy was the time he’d gotten high by accident, which was a story Loki still refused to tell. “Everyone is so very scandalized.”
Sam looked back down at his homework and tried not to glare at it. “Most people wouldn’t sound so happy about it.”
“You know how I feel about statements beginning ‘most people,’” Loki said, going through the cupboards and finally pulling out a box of crackers. “You, on the other hand, seem decidedly unhappy. Surely it hasn’t upset you.”
Sam shut his book and gave Loki a hard look. “Believe it or not, I don’t actually like hearing people talk shit about my friends.”
Loki’s expression did that faint flicker that meant he was surprised. “You need not be offended on my behalf.”
“Of course I don’t need to,” Sam said under his breath. “That’s not the point.” He sighed, and rubbed his eyes. “Look, I’m just…not in a great mood right now. Sorry.” Loki stood there and stared at him for a moment, and then came over and sat down leaning back against one of their chairs.
“If you’re worried about me, you can stop. I’m not going to get myself in trouble.”
“Cause you never do that,” Sam said, and Loki made an irritated flicking gesture with his fingers.
“I don’t want you fretting about this. There is no point.”
“Too bad you can’t control my fretting.”
Loki made a faintly exasperated noise. “What is it you think is going to happen? I am quite sure I am a great deal meaner than Stark. If he looks as though he is going to ravish me in some hideously inappropriate manner, I assure you I will stop him.”
“That’s not-” Sam broke off, and shook his head. “I don’t know. I just…you’re too similar. And you both have-”
“Issues?” Loki said, his voice suddenly biting, and Sam winced.
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were.” Loki stood up. “Well, I suppose I cannot stop you from worrying, as you said. I am going out tonight. I expect I will not return until tomorrow morning.”
Sam sighed. “Okay.”
“I hope you have a pleasant evening,” Loki said with perfect politeness, and put the crackers back in the cupboard before retreating to his room. Sam tried not to feel like he’d made things worse, and told himself very firmly that Loki was right, that it was none of his business. It didn’t work as well as he wanted it to.
They settled into a kind of routine over the next week. Sam saw relatively little of Loki, but Loki’s humor seemed better when he did. Still occasionally with that edge of manic euphoria that made Sam very nervous, but mostly just…Loki in a good mood. He even actually apologized for being an asshole, and informed Sam that he would not be walking in on anything “untoward” – his word, not Sam’s – again. Which was an undeniable relief.
Sam started to think things might be okay. A week without incidents. That was pretty good, right?
Yeah, that didn’t last.
Sam recognized Loki’s raised voice through the door as he was coming back from class and nearly turned and bolted. “Would you like to repeat that, Stark?” he heard. “Please, tell me exactly what my damage is.”
Sam took a deep breath and let himself in. Loki and Tony were standing nearly toe to toe, Loki looking impressively down his nose and Tony’s stance clearly belligerent. “You have a couple hours? Maybe a week? I’m not some girl who’s going to put up with your bullshit because I can fix you. I’m not that delusional. A full personality transplant wouldn’t fix you.”
Loki’s laugh was a harsh bark. “If anyone needs fixing it’s you, Stark, half of campus has probably seen that pathetic thing you keep in your pants by now, and the rest have probably just blocked the experience out-”
“Oh really? Cause who was the one calling me a fucking sex god two days ago when I was-”
“Guys,” Sam said, taking a step closer. Neither seemed to hear him.
“I’ve had better sex with my right hand,” Loki snarled, and Tony grinned.
“Yeah, cause before me no one would touch you, huh? Thor’s freak little brother, who would?” The noise Loki made was not coherent and barely human. Tony leaned in closer. “People kept asking me if you were a pity fuck, and you know what I told them? I told them it was because you’d let me do shit to you that-”
There was a loud crack and Tony jerked back, one hand coming up to his reddening cheek. Loki was shaking with rage. Sam got hastily between them. “Whoa,” he said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, can we just-”
“Sam,” said Loki, his voice thick. Tony’s grin was thoroughly shit-eating and just begging to get punched in the face. No, Sam told himself sternly. Do not get into this.
“Not in the apartment,” Sam said, firmly. “I don’t want anything broken.”
“No, no, we’re done here anyway. I’ll see myself out,” Tony said, almost jauntily. “Nice to see you again, Winchester.” He sauntered over the door. Sam kept his hand on Loki’s heaving chest until the door closed behind him.
“Hey,” he said to his roommate. “It’s. Uh. Jesus fuck. What happened?”
“You were right,” Loki said, his voice still fury-blurred. “Are you happy?”
Sam sighed. “No,” he said. “I’m not. Just. What happened?”
Loki tugged away from him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, and started toward his bedroom. Sam frowned at his back.
“Loki, you know he’s not…”
The door to Loki’s room slammed very loudly. Sam stared at it, and sighed again. So much for no train wreck, he thought wearily, and went to go ice cream shopping.
He scarcely saw Loki out of his room for two days. On the third, he came home and found Loki and Tony Stark making out against the kitchen cabinets, both of them stripped to the waist and hands all over each other. Sam stopped dead.
“What the-”
Tony pulled back and Loki’s head hit the cabinets with a thunk. “Oh, hey Wi-” he started to say, before Loki’s hands in his hair dragged him back in. Sam shut his eyes and rubbed at them, hard. He was sorely tempted to just turn around and leave.
Tony managed to pull back again, enough to say, “Hey, your roommate’s here.” Almost immediately, Loki fell completely still, and then shoved Tony away, color rising in his face again.
“—damn,” he said, succintly. Sam made a pained face at him.
“I think I’m letting you handle this one,” Tony said, and gave Loki’s chest a pat. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Loki said, though with a quick look at Sam. “…tomorrow. I’ll call.”
“Sounds good. Afternoon, Winchester,” Tony said, and sauntered out past Sam before he could recover enough to respond.
“Okay,” said Sam, “I’m having a little bit of trouble here.”
“That is…understandable,” Loki said, the embarrassed expression increasing for a moment before he smoothed it away. “I was not expecting It to…it was unintentional. He came by to…apologize.”
Sam blinked. That was unexpected. “Actually?"
“Well. Sort of.” Loki frowned, slightly. “I think that’s what it was.”
“You’re the expert on not-apologies,” Sam said under his breath, then added, louder, “You never even told me what happened in the first place.”
Loki’s mouth pinched a little. “—nothing. Well, nothing important. It would seem we are…” He made a slight gesture. Sam resisted the urge to sigh.
“That’s…good.” Loki’s eyes cut sharply to him.
“Yes, you sound overjoyed.”
Sam sighed. “I just…never mind.” Loki’s mouth half opened and Sam waved it off. “Yeah, yeah, you know what you’re doing. I got it. Just….yeah. Well. Never mind.” He sighed. “I just don’t want a repeat of…you were really shredding each other. When I walked in. And you actually looked a little like you were going to kill him.”
“I wouldn’t,” Loki said, sounding offended, and then added, “It would be far too obvious,” and Sam let out a reluctant laugh. The atmosphere eased.
Sam tried to ignore his Han Solo esque I’ve got a bad feeling about this without much success.
Natasha sat down next to him at lunch between classes. He stared at her, thoroughly surprised. “Hey, Sam,” she said casually, buttering a piece of toast. “How’s it going?”
“Uh,” he said cautiously. “Good? I guess.”
“Mm. That’s good to hear.” She took a bite of her now buttered toast, chewed, swallowed, and said, “I’m guessing you know your roommate’s been dating a friend of mine?”
Sam did not quite tense. “Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “I’m aware. Is there a problem?”
Natasha was quiet for a moment, and then simply said, “I don’t know.” Sam sighed.
“But you’re worried.”
“I’m worried. You’re worried. Thor’s worried. Steve’s worried.” Natasha shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like there’s really any reason to be, though. Except…”
Now Sam did tense. “Except what?” Natasha held up one hand and ticked off items on her fingers.
“Pepper says she thinks Tony’s either off the wagon or sliding that way. He’s been nastier than usual lately. And Bruce – he lives with Tony – said that he was up late and overheard what he said sounded like a really nasty fight, but when he asked Tony about it he gave Bruce the brush-off.” Natasha shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”
Sam chewed on his lip, thinking of Loki, who hardly talked to him, who spent most of his nights out, who bounced back and forth, when he was home, between giddy euphoria and brutal, vicious cruelty. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably.”
Loki wasn’t in the living room when he got home. Sam went down the hall and lifted a hand to knock at his door when he realized he could hear Loki’s voice through the wood.
“—pathetic. You surround yourself with fawning devotees but you know what you really deserve, that’s why you’re here, because you know I’ll hurt you and I won’t feel even a little bit guilty-”
“If you want to talk about worthless,” Tony’s voice, fractured with something that was definitely not unhappiness. “Let’s be honest, you’re a damn good fuck but you’re hardly good for much else – ah-”
Sam felt his stomach churn and stepped back. Silence, for several moments, and then a quiet, “You all right?”
“Yeah,” Tony’s voice. “Fine. Peachy. Fuck. Did I-”
That strange cough that was Loki’s unwilling laugh. “No. You did not go too far. I told you I would say if….”
Sam backed the rest of the way away and left the apartment. He took a walk around the block, stomach heaving, and didn’t come back for an hour and a half. You shouldn’t have listened, he told himself. You shouldn’t have listened.
He’d talk to Loki about this. He would.
He didn’t.
He didn’t and barely three days later they broke up again in a vicious screaming match that someone filmed and put on the internet.
Sam watched it, because apparently he hated himself. The video was blurry, but Loki’s raised voice was plenty clear. “’I’m Tony Stark, I get everything I want, I’m in love with myself,’ you know what? You’re not fooling anyone. You fuck around and drink yourself into a stupor like somehow that’ll make everything better, you make a fool of yourself just so someone will look at you-”
Tony’s face, thought Sam, looked somewhere between aroused and furious. “You’re one to talk, waltzing around like you’re the only one who has issues, boo fucking hoo-”
Loki’s smile was vicious and patronizing. “I feel sorry for you, Stark. I pity you your self-delusion. Everyone knows what you are. They’ll get bored of watching you and move on, and what are you going to do then, because no one cares about you, Stark, and in the end-”
Sam switched it off and closed the window. I’m out of my league, he thought, and just stay out of it.
Loki came home quiet and almost subdued. Sam made dinner – which he burnt – and Loki ate it anyway. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sam said finally. Loki’s head jerked to the side.
“No.”
Sam sighed, and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry.” Loki snorted and shoved back from the table.
“Don’t be,” he said. “It’s hardly a loss.”
They were back together in two days. There weren’t any bets anymore. Sam got the feeling everyone was looking carefully away. There was a certain kind of ugliness that no one wanted to see.
Loki was around more, though. There was something strange about him, almost all the time, that made Sam think of dry wood, something brittle and just on the edge of fracturing. He couldn’t ask, though. Every time he thought about it the words dried up in his mouth.
Loki dropped a few pounds and then stayed steady. The strange cruelty was gone, and in its place was exhaustion that had Loki passing out on the couch at odd hours.
And Sam worried.
Tony came around once when Loki was sleeping. Sam had just looked at him, and he’d fidgeted.
“He’s asleep,” Sam said, finally.
“—really?” Tony sounded surprised. “I mean. Okay. I’ll come back later.” He seemed jittery, Sam thought. Nervous.
“Tony-” Sam cut off, and took a deep breath. “It’s none of my business. But are things…okay?"
Tony stared at him for several moments, and then broke into laughter that sounded borderline hysterical. Sam frowned. “Sorry,” he said, gasping for air. “Sorry, it’s just – okay? Not even a little bit. –it’s fine, though. Fine. I’ll come back later.”
Sam let him go and went over to the couch. He sat down at the chair across the coffee table. Loki was waking up. He stretched one arm up and his sleeve slipped down.
There were burn marks on the underside of Loki’s wrist. Sam stared at them and felt sick, thought of Loki’s giddy euphoria and the murmured worries he’d heard about Stark’s relapse. Thought about the conversation he’d heard through the door.
“Was that Stark?” Loki asked sleepily.
“Why do you call him that?” Sam asked suddenly. “It’s never Tony. Why is that?”
“I guess that’s a yes.” Loki tugged down his sleeve and sat up, casually, as though this were any other day. Then, finally, he seemed to register Sam’s expression. “—what?”
“Loki-” Sam swallowed, and again the words died in his throat.
“Are you going to lecture me again?” Loki sounded more amused than anything else, and Sam’s stomach lurched.
“This needs to stop,” he said, finally, voice not as strong as he wanted it to be. “Right…right now.”
Loki’s eyebrows jumped. “Beg pardon?”
“You need to stop,” Sam pushed out. “—doing this to yourself. Letting him do this do you, getting yourself dragged back into this shit-”
Loki’s mouth twisted, though it still seemed more amused, indulgent, than anything else. “You think Stark is capable of dragging me anywhere? You think he’s bad for me? You know better than that, Sam. I’m the bad one.”
“I think you’re bad for each other,” Sam said, keeping his voice neutral. He’d only seen a few of the burns, none severe. He gestured at Loki’s arm. “Did you ask for those?”
“Ask for what?” Loki’s voice was perfectly innocent.
“The burns on your arm,” Sam said. “Cigarettes, I’m guessing. Or maybe matches, since you don’t like the smell-”
Loki’s face flashed something too quickly to identify. “An accident.”
“Don’t – give me that. I’m not an idiot. Did you ask for them, is that something – is that one of the things you’d let Tony do to you?”
Silence for a moment, as green eyes bored into him. Then, with a toss of his head, “yes. Does that disturb you?” Loki’s voice was aggressive, antagonistic. Sam kept himself calm.
“Yes,” he said, perfectly honestly. As he’d expected, Loki seemed briefly taken aback, though he covered for it well.
“Safe, sane and consensual, Sam. Are you going to shame me for what I like to do in bed?” Loki leaned forward over the table. “Are you going to punish me?” In that awful, silky, purr of a voice, and Sam felt even sicker.
“I know you know what you’re doing. That’s what worries me. I just know that you-”
“Have self-destructive tendencies?” Loki’s voice was sweetly mocking. “Here I am. Channeling them in a positive way.”
“I’m not at all sure this is positive,” Sam muttered, and then Loki was right in his face.
“If you want to talk about questionable relationship choices,” he said, “If you want to talk about pathological self-punishment – let’s look at your record, shall we? Brady was a stalker at the very least. Nick was violent and unpredictable. Ruby – no more must be said.”
“Don’t make this about me,” Sam said, feeling himself tense. Loki’s smile was sharp and nasty.
“Isn’t it, though?” he said. “You want to control my life because you haven’t the least amount of control over your own. I’m sorry, Sam, but that’s not the way this works. I am not your doll, and you cannot make my choices for me.”
“Loki,” Sam made one last attempt, “I’m worried-”
“Save it for someone who cares,” Loki sneered, and Sam lost it.
“Who else is going to put the brakes on for you if I don’t? You’re a fucking mess, Loki, and I know that, I get it, and sometimes you don’t know what’s best for you, sometimes you pull this shit and I don’t know if it’s because you want proof that someone’ll come after you or what but I’m starting to get really sick and tired of being the person who has to clean up the mess when you fuck up-”
He cut himself off, but too late. Loki’s eyes were like glass. “If that is how you feel,” he said, every word perfectly enunciated, “Then I free you from your obligation. I neither expect nor require anything from you.”
“Loki,” Sam tried to say, but Loki was already walking for the door, head held high, and then he was gone. Shutting it quietly behind him.
Sam sank down. He wasn’t sure if he felt worse for saying it or that he’d half meant it.
It was the worst fight they’d ever had.
Sam came back from classes the next day to find Loki’s things gone. He heard word that he’d moved in with Tony, and then he didn’t hear anything at all. Ignored and avoided any and all rumors and tried to think that this would come out okay.
On April 12th, the big gossip was that Stark was back in rehab, and Sam’s stomach dropped. He half considered asking Natasha if she knew what was going on with Loki, and decided against it. Called his cell, but no one picked up.
He half expected Loki to be there when he got back to the apartment, quiet and contrite and guilty as hell.
He wasn’t.
Sam hovered on the verge of panic, almost called the police, or Thor, or – who else? Who else might Loki be with? He stayed awake most of the night, waiting for the phone to ring, but no one called.
Loki was, however, there the next morning, hideously drunk and staring at Sam through bleary eyes, his face streaked with the marks of tears.
“Thank fucking god,” Sam said, and dragged his roommate into a hug. Loki made a peculiar sobbing sound into his shoulder.
“I’m – I’m sorry,” he said, stumbling over the words. “I really – you were right. You’re always right. I fucked it all up.” He hiccuped, and his fingers dug into Sam’s shoulders. “I should have, should never have…”
“Where have you been?” Sam demanded, even as he pulled Loki inside and closed the door. “I heard Tony…”
“We broke up,” Loki said, and coughed a laugh. “For good. A week ago. We both finally realized that…we weren’t going to stop. We were just going to keep pushing and pushing and…I’ve just been. Couch surfing.”
“You could have come back,” said Sam, an ache starting in his chest. Loki coughed a quiet laugh.
“I didn’t want to.”
“Jesus,” Sam said quietly. “I’m…sorry. About what I said. It was shitty and…not helpful.”
“But not untrue,” Loki said, drunkenly implacable, and Sam grimaced.
“A little true, maybe. That doesn’t mean all. And that doesn’t mean I needed to say it.” He paused. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Loki’s fingers on his shoulders loosened a little. “…I am also. Sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” Loki apologized, Sam thought, so very rarely. Figured it took being drunk to get one out of him.
“Come on, man,” he said, starting to haul Loki’s gangly form toward his bedroom, then, when he remembered that was empty, toward Sam’s bedroom. “You need to sleep it off. I’ll let my teachers know I won’t be in today and stick around, and when you’re…not drunk, we can talk this through. Okay?”
“Okay,” Loki said, though Sam suspected he’d caught maybe half of that. “Yes. I mean. Yes.” As Sam eased him down onto the bed, his fingers caught at Sam’s sleeve. “—Sam,” he said, almost urgent, plaintive. “We’re…we’re fine. Right?”
Sam sighed. He rubbed his hands on his pants. He felt exhausted, but he wasn’t mad, not anymore. Just kind of…sad. “Are you okay?” he asked, finally. Loki considered that.
“Yes. I think so?”
“Are you going to be okay?”
This time the nod was a little more sure. Sam nodded, and found a smile. “Yeah,” he said, soothingly. “Then we’re okay.”