TABOO

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In retrospect, the first time I spoke to Loki was when it all went wrong. When we were set on this path. Still; I can't say I regret it.

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"Hey!" Steve skidded down the side of the bank, gangly young limbs struggling to keep him upright as he fought back his dizziness. "Are you ok?"
The black haired boy in the lake looked up, wary and aloof. "You're worried about me?" He laughed, harsh and bitter. "You look about ready to keel over. You want to help? You don't look like you can help yourself!"
Steve set his jaw stubbornly, crossing his arms with all the maturity a child could muster.
"I'm not the one in the water in winter, Stupid. And you're bleeding. I'd say you're doing worse than me, no matter how rude you want to be."
That got a more genuine laugh from the other boy, if begrudgingly. "So I am."
"Are you… caught in a fishing net?"
The boy averted his eyes, the picture of haughty pride. "That is none of your concern."
"Don't be silly. Let me help."

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You weren't supposed to help the fey. You weren't supposed to get close.

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"Hey Loki!"
Steve threw a pebble, skimming it across the water. Sure, he couldn't skip it as far as Bucky could, but he couldn't bring himself to feel too bothered about his weakness. Not in this place, where he felt stronger than anywhere else.
It was already clear he was never going to be as big as the other boys, they were beginning to broaden out already while he retained the body of a child.
He resented it, resented the pity it caused, but he didn't think he was bitter. He liked to think he was resigned to it, and his mother always told him there was more to true strength than muscle.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Steve picked up another stone to skip.
"Loki, where are you?"
A cold splash of water and two frozen hands shot from the lake, pulling him down to his knees, bringing him face-to-face with a deadly sharp smile and unnatural green eyes.
"Honestly Steven, must you throw rocks at me?"
"Only when you're late."
Loki huffed. "I was not late. I was here. It is hardly my fault if you do not see me."
"Sure; whatever you say princess." He pulled his wrists out of Loki's grip to remove his shoes, dropping to sit with his feet in the water.
Loki shifted so he could rest his arms on Steve's legs. "Such rudeness. I could drag you under right here, and no-one would know. You wouldn't even have the time to scream."
"So you keep saying." Steve laughed, pulling a leaf out of Loki's hair distractedly. "But we both know you'd miss me too much."
"Would not."
"Ok. But you'd miss me running your errands. Speaking of which…" He rooted through his pockets for a few moments before pulling out the herbs Loki had asked him to look out for.
Loki's laugh was silver wind chimes as he reached for them, and Steve was swept up in it. And if he forgot, for a moment, the events of the day; well, what harm was there.

It was dark before Steve worked up the nerve to tell Loki.

There was a flash of something vicious across Loki's face -primal and possessive, gone as quickly as it came- before it settled into a blank mask. "No."

"Mother thinks the inland doctor can help me, Loki. I may not survive the coming winter without him"
Steve looks away; he hates bringing up how frail he is at the best of times. In front of Loki- beautiful, magical Loki- it feels like failure.

"I'll come back, eventually. You know I'd never leave forever."
"No." Loki repeats, bearing his too-sharp teeth and grabbing Steve's wrist. "You're not going."
Steve straightens his shoulders, and Loki pulls back. Steve hates being manhandled when Loki's trying to get his way; but he can't bring himself to let go of the wrist. Time to change tactics.
"What if I can keep you safe?"
A raised eyebrow, but Steve hasn't tried to pull away again.
"I get stronger every year. If I promise you'll be strong enough, if I can make you strong enough, will you stay?"
It's not begging, but it's as close as Loki gets. Steve knows him well enough to know that.

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Worlds aligned, but never touching. Seen through glass.

That was how it had always been. Who were we to try and change it?

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The grin on Loki's face stopped Steve dead in his tracks.

"What did you do?" He shrugged off his pack, filled with game and fruit from the forest, and edged forwards. The last time he'd seen that smile Loki had cut off a girl's hair. Thor's rage had been terrifying and Steve had no desire to be around the next time Loki took a joke too far. Not least of all because Thor thought he was the cause of Loki's mischief.

"Nothing. I've learnt a new trick."

Shrugging his broad shoulders Steve flopped down next to the lake, dropping his feet down in a well-practiced motion. "You gonna tell me or am I going to wait for Thor to come and yell at me?"

"Better; close your eyes."

Steve gave Loki a doubting look, but did as he was told.

"Don't open them."

Steve rolled his eyes behind closed lids, ignoring the way the water churned by his feet, and jolted suddenly as something cold and relatively heavy landed on his lap. He tried to open his eyes, but chilled hands on his face blocked any light. "Loki?" He breathed.

Loki laughed as Steve grabbed his wrists and pulled them away, taking in the shocked wonder on his face.

"… You have legs."

As Steve let go of his wrists Loki locked his hands together behind Steve's neck. "Obvious, but I'll let it pass. You were, after all, surprised." He followed Steve's gaze. "… I know they don't look… right. I'll get better with practise; I just wanted to show you as soon as possible."

"They're beautiful." Steve breathed. "And they're perfect for you. Don't even think of changing them."

In place of Loki's beautiful silvery tail were two long, almost human, legs. Under clothes no-one would be able to tell, but bare before Steve the skin was still covered in glittering scales.

Steve ran a hand down one, finding it just as smooth as the tail. Loki shivered.

"By the gods that feels strange."

"Good strange?" Steve brought his hand back up, enjoying the rough drag against the edges of the scales.

"Yes."

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I don't regret a second of it.

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Loki threw his head back, bearing his teeth with a snarl as Steve continued to nip along his collarbone. He pulled on his wrists, but it was useless; both were held securely in one strong hand.

"You know I hate it when you tease."

"And you know what you have to do to stop it." Steve lowered his head further, sucking bruises into Loki's pale skin, until he reached his nipple.

The fey began to thrash as Steve pointedly ignored the nub, biting around the sensitive flesh without quite touching it.

"Please."

One word was enough. It took long enough to get Loki desperate enough for such a concession; Steve wasn't about to push his luck.

His free hand reached down to brush against Loki's scales, while he lifted his face to kiss the mer.

Loki groaned into the kiss, leaning up to press against Steve more firmly, only to bite suddenly when Steve dug his nails into the soft join of his knee. The boy gasped, but kissed harder and dirtier for it, rutting into Loki's leg with increased force.

Loki was a biter by nature, and by this point Steve's body had been conditioned to interpret the sharp sting as arousing.

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But we should have known it couldn't last.

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"Hey, witch boy!"

Steve didn't bother to turn around. The only thing to do was ignore it, he wasn't willing to get into a fist fight over something as trivial as name calling. As much as he hated bullies, he was too strong. He'd seriously hurt anyone he raised a hand to.

Besides, he'd been dealing with it regularly for years. People whispered and hinted about his growth spurt, his hunting skill, his herb lore. He lived alone with his mother on the outskirts of the town, and prospered. Once the town hit a rough patch that was enough to cause animosity, though so far it had never escalated beyond heated words.

"I'm talking to you!"

A hand landed on his shoulder, stopping Steve in his tracks. He sighed, and turned around. "My apologies, I didn't hear my name." Loki would be proud of him; expressing disapproval without giving any grounds to start a fight. He always said wordplay was underappreciated. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah. Everyone knows the lake is cursed, we've lost twelve people in half as many years."

"You can count. I'm very impressed." Dry humour was apparently effect of befriending Loki, one that had caused him trouble before. He knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say as the man's face turned red with rage.

"So what I want to know, witch boy, is how you can be down there almost every day and be fine. And how a weedy kid like you suddenly got so big around the time it all started."

No explaining that. Even if he told them about Loki's gift, and even if they believed him, they'd hunt the mer regardless of his innocence. He could practically hear Loki's voice in his mind, whispering 'bluff'.

"I eat my vegetables, and I visit one of the calmer inlets. People were risking the rough bits and paying long before I was born, and they'll be doing it long after I'm gone."

The man leveled Steve with a hard look. "I wonder about that."

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People fear what they don't understand.

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"Caught in the act. Better than I could have hoped for, witch boy."

Steve jumped up, in only his pants with Loki's bite bleeding on his neck, while the mer tensed behind him.

"Consorting with monsters, are we? Do you help him, boy, or just laugh while he drowns us."

"It's not like that! He didn't do anything." Steve took an angry step forward, stopping when the villager drew a sword.

"No closer witch. I'd see you killed here and now, but the others want a test. Might want to have those last few days before we burn you."

Angry voices could be heard now, and a flickering light from the trees above the bank.

"Torches and pitchforks." Loki sighed, "Always the same."

The man flinched from his voice. "Silence demon. I'll not have your whispers in my head."

Loki drew himself to his feet, observing the way Steve shifted as if to block him. He placed a cold hand on Steve's arm, trying to convey that everything was going to be alright as he settled at his side.

"How did you find us?" Steve growled, after a few calming breaths.

"Your mother told me where you were. Eventually. She held out well, for such a frail thing, but she eventually gave in. She's with the Lord now. Thought you might want to hear it from me, before the others got here. Seeing as we're friends and all." He smirked viciously.

Steve's breathing stopped as the implications sunk in. The voices were growing louder, nearer. These people, his people, had allowed the torture and murder of an old woman based on nothing more than superstition. The bastard had reached Steve ahead of them to provoke him, to find an excuse to kill him and remove the chance of acquittal. Steve's hand went for the dagger at his belt.

Loki was quicker. Little more than a snarling blur of motion he tackled the man to the ground. The air left him in a grunt and he lost his grip on his sword as Loki slammed his head into the ground.

The first villagers broke the tree line, two or three hunters among them; bows already out.

"Run! I'll find you, RUN!"

Steve didn't need to look, he knew Loki could hold his own in a fight, had means of protecting himself. He had nothing left now, nothing but Loki, so he obeyed. He turned on his heel and fled as the first arrows were loosed.

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I'm sorry.

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Loki had almost lost hope by the time he found Steve. Three days later, and many miles downstream. He wouldn't have blamed him for leaving the river, traveling where Loki couldn't find him.

His sharp joy was quickly tempered by worry. Something was wrong; It was a little past midday, and Steve was asleep barely two feet from the riverbank.

Panic flared as he grew closer. Steve was deathly pale, and sweating. Both pant legs cut away and used to bandage his chest, but the redness and swelling had spread beyond them.

He was on land in moments, reaching forward desperately.

"Steven! Steve please!"

Awareness came slowly, light on his eyelids, burning pain, cool hands, and a frantic voice growing ever louder. He groaned in pain.

"Oh thank the gods! Steven, are you with me?"

"Loki?" Even turning his head to look was agony, but the pain was dimming slightly as Loki's fingers brushed back and forth.

"How did you get so far in this state?" Loki asked, mostly to distract from what he was doing.

"A ferryman gave me a lift, I still had-" He broke off briefly to grunt in pain as Loki's magic sparked in his wound. "-Some coins on me." He arched as Loki's magic retreated, feeling the full pain return until the numbing spell resettled. "What's the damage Doc?" He tried to smile, for Loki's sake.

"Poison." Loki whispered, voice suddenly ragged. "It's… It's beyond my abilities."

'I should be panicking', Steve thought detachedly, 'I should probably cry. Loki looks about ready to.' He couldn't though, he guessed he'd already known really. It wasn't like he had much to live for, Loki couldn't be with him forever. But maybe… "Can you stay?" He winced, he hadn't meant his voice to sound quite so weak. "Until the end, I mean. I- I don't want to be alone. I want you to be the last thing I see."

Loki did cry, then. Big silent tears that Steve weakly wiped away. "Of course." He choked out, shifting so Steve could lay his head on his lap while he kept his feet in the water to draw strength. "Nothing could move me from your side. Not now; not ever."

They lay there for hours, whispering to each other 'remember when's and 'what if's until Steve hurt too much to talk, then Loki spoke for both of them. Fairy tales and anecdotes and herb lore, anything to keep the silence at bay. And then Steve began to burn. His fever rose and all of Loki's healing spells couldn't keep the pain away as his body began to fail.

He gasped and writhed as Loki muttered spells and endearments, holding him close and shaking with grief.

As Loki began a new spell, dangerously trying to siphon more of the pain into his own body, Steve grabbed his wrist. The pain was crushing, and the magic wreaked havoc on Loki's body, but he could bear it for Steve. It wouldn't be long now.

The grip on his wrist tightened. "Hey Loki," Steve whispered, unable to talk any louder. "Drowning's meant to be peaceful, right?"

Loki reared back in shock. "You cannot ask me- No! Steve, no!

"I'm already dead, Loki. If I have to go I want to go peacefully. Please, give me this."

Loki closed his eyes, tears escaping again, shaking his head.

"You've seen my world, show me yours. I can't do this, Loki. I'm scared. I don't want to be scared anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore."

He could see Loki struggling, Loki who thought he was dark and cold, because that's what he had always been told. Loki who thought he was tempests and storms and the sharp rocks of a cliff face. His Loki, who was cool hands in summer, a warm smile in the cold, and the autumn sun on the surface of the water. Who was his everything.

If he had to go, there was no place he'd rather be than in Loki's arms.

He was smiling as he breathed in the water.

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I love you.

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I Honestly don't know how I feel about this one.
But I totally blame Felicity G. Silvers, who is an amazing author in the fandom, a brilliant person, and the cause of ALL my SteveLoki feels.
And her writing is what inspired this.
If you liked it, blame her.
If you didn't, read her stuff instead.
Love you all! As always; tips on how to improve are greatly appreciated.