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ONE.
The first time he did it, it wasn’t intentional.
It was an old habit, doodling when he was thinking about other things. Helped keep his head clear, and usually he wasn’t really thinking about what it was he was doodling. So he was thinking through how he was going to respond to a request from some so-called ‘conservative commentator’ - though Steve thought that was a generous designation. He wanted Steve to appear on his show, and he was pretty sure SHIELD PR would pitch a fit if he wrote what he wanted to, which amounted to no way in hell.
Eventually he glanced at what his right hand had been doing and started a little when he realized it was Loki. Loki’s face, to be precise, with that distinctive smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. In the sketch it looked less sinister than... mischievous.
Steve pressed his lips together, staring at it for a while before finishing out his hair. He’d noticed, the last time he’d seen Loki, that it actually had a bit of a wave when it wasn’t aggressively slicked back like it’d been during the invasion. He imagined Loki with a straightener like he’d seen Natasha use, standing in some kind of bathroom with a bottle of hair gel on one side of the sink and horns on the other. The mental image made him snort.
Right. The reply. Steve set the paper aside and put his fingers on the keyboard, staring at the blinking cursor. I regret to say that I can’t accept your invitation, based on the fact that your show seems to endorse positions that I find absolutely repulsive. There. That was diplomatic enough, right?
Steve saved a draft of the email and flipped over the piece of paper. He meant to draw the Brooklyn Bridge. He transitioned halfway through to drawing Loki again, this time seated in an armchair, one leg crossed over the other, making it look like a throne.
When he finished, he stared at his handiwork, sighed, and shook his head. Steve shoved the drawing in the back of a drawer and got up to go for a run. Apparently doodling wasn’t clearing his head.
Tony said Loki was obsessed with him, and he was probably right.
Tony didn’t know about Steve’s drawer of Loki sketches.
It wasn’t something he thought about. It just...kept happening, when he wasn’t quite thinking about it, or sometimes when he was. It felt like...trying to make sense of things. Of him - of Loki. Like if he just drew him enough times then maybe it would be clearer what Loki was doing, what he wanted, what he planned.
Or maybe like if he drew him enough times he’d stop thinking about it.
He made a good subject. Even just from memory, Steve thought he’d gotten good at capturing him. Ha. Better at it than he was at capturing the real thing. He played with expressions: disappointed, angry, annoyed, pleased. All mostly in the eyes. And that smirk, obviously.
It was part of processing, he told himself. Part of thinking things through, playing this bizarre, inscrutable game where only Loki seemed to really know the rules.
It didn’t seem to be helping, though. If anything, it just made things more confusing.
He put the finishing touches on another sketch and sat back to examine it. This one had been more deliberate, at least. Like that might help, somehow. It was Loki in three-quarters view, chin lifted, expression pensive. Steve frowned at it.
“What do you want?” Steve asked the drawing.
Someone knocked on the door and Steve hastily turned the paper over and shoved it under a book. “Be right there!” He called, scrambling to his feet.
When he went back later, the sketch was gone. There was a note in its place: a decent likeness. I hope you don’t mind my taking it. -L
TWO.
“You’re staring,” Loki said, and Steve felt his face get hot.
“Can you blame a fella,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual, though he didn’t know how well it really worked. Based on the way Loki laughed, not very well. He set down his book and leaned back in his chair, spreading his arms.
“It wasn’t a critique,” he said. “Stare away.” Steve’s face only got hotter, and Loki’s grin broadened.
“So,” he said. “You like looking at me.”
“Like I said,” Steve shot back. “Who wouldn’t?”
Loki’s expression flickered, the grin slipping. “You might be surprised,” he said lightly. Steve eyed him, wondering.
“I’d like to draw you,” he said. Loki’s eyebrows rose.
“Haven’t you already?” He said, with a bit of a smirk.
“There’s no limitation on the number of times you can draw someone,” Steve said, maybe a little defensively.
Loki leaned back and seemed to be considering him, almost like he was looking for a catch. Finally, he grinned and said, “why not?” Steve exhaled in probably inordinately strong relief and smiled back at him. Loki stood and stretched in the ostentatious way that was obviously meant to draw attention to his lean body. “How do you want me?”
Steve knew very well how that was meant to sound, and that Loki was doing it to make him blush - which he was. He kept his eyes on Loki, though - he had the feeling that he was being provoked more than usual, and that sometimes meant he was getting close to something that made Loki uncomfortable.
So he went ahead and said, as casually as he could, “how about on the couch? And...clothes off.”
Loki’s lips curved in a small, sly, smile. “Why, Captain,” he said. “How very risqué of you.”
Steve held his gaze and just said, “well?” Loki cocked his head to the side and then strolled over to the couch, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off, folding it neatly before moving on to his pants. Steve let himself watch and admire, as he knew he was meant to, until Loki turned and sat down on the couch, slinging one leg up and lounging back against the arm, his other foot resting on the floor, expression arch.
“Get comfortable,” Steve said. “I have to go get my sketchpad.”
Loki raised a hand and flicked his fingers; Steve’s sketchpad materialized on the coffee table along with a set of pencils. “Or,” he said, almost amused, “we could just do that.”
Loki grinned at him. “It seemed more efficient.”
“Or you’re showing off,” Steve said, but without really meaning anything by it. He picked up the pad and moved one of the chairs to a better vantage point, sitting down.
“I would never.”
“Yes, you would,” Steve said. It occurred to him briefly to realize how easy it was, now, talking to Loki like this. Being with Loki like this. True, the good mood helped, and that was far from something Steve could take for granted, but…
He looked Loki over. “You’re going to want to make sure you’re in a position you’ll be comfortable holding,” he said. Loki’s eyebrows rose, smirk touching the corners of his mouth again, and Steve wrinkled his nose at him. “Stop that. You’re thinking too much about posing. Just...relax.”
Loki’s smile faded again and he made a sort of “hm” sound before moving, swinging both legs up onto the couch, stretching out with one hand folded behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. Ankles crossed, his face still angled toward Steve. He could see the difference, the same way he could see the difference between Loki’s smiles - the real ones and the dangerous ones.
He nodded. “There,” he said. “That’s better.” He sat down, rolling out his wrists and going to a clean page.
“Can I talk?” Loki asked. His voice sounded more subdued, too. Quieter.
“Of course,” Steve said. “Just try not to move the rest of you too much.” He paused, and then said carefully, aware he might be stepping close to something sensitive: “did you never have - I don’t know, portraits painted of you on Asgard?”
“Not like this,” Loki said. Steve cocked his head in question, and Loki said, “they would capture an image and work from that, rather than from life.”
“Like a photograph,” Steve said. Loki hummed.
“More like one of Stark’s holograms. Wrought in three dimensions. It’s a form of...well, a variation of illusion work, though built into a sort of...talisman, so even those without magic can use it.”
Steve nodded, starting to sketch in the positioning of Loki’s limbs. “So you didn’t have to wait and sit still while they worked.”
“No,” Loki said. “Fortunately. I was not very good at holding still at the time.”
Steve could picture that without too much trouble. A younger Loki, constantly in motion in body, as much as in mind. He had to smile. You hardly ever talk about any of this, he wanted to say, except in bitterness, but he didn’t want to draw attention to it. “You’re doing fine now,” he said. Loki twitched, very slightly.
“Yes, well,” he said. “I learned.” Steve paused, glancing sidelong at Loki. There was something there, but he couldn’t tell what it was, just that it seemed dangerous. He decided it was probably best to leave it alone, at least for now.
He paused in what he was doing to just look at Loki, let his eyes roam over him from head to toe. He really was...gorgeous. Striking. And it was hard not to feel at least a prickle of arousal, even if he’d drawn nudes before without having that response at all.
Feeling his face heat up again, Steve looked hastily down.
“Why now?” Loki asked, after he’d been quiet a little while as Steve started adding more defined shape to his initial circles and lines.
“Why now, what?” Steve asked.
“Why ask me to pose for you now?”
Steve paused, glancing up at him. “Why not now?” He asked. Loki just looked at him, and Steve pressed his lips together. “I don’t think I need a reason.”
“But you have one,” Loki said. His voice was mild, but Steve could hear wariness in it.
“I guess.” Steve started filling in the shape of one of Loki’s arms. “I don’t know. It’s just…” He considered his words carefully. “Maybe it’s a way of showing you how you look to me.”
Loki was quiet. Steve could see him turning that over in his mind, looking at it from all angles. Steve focused on his sketchpad rather than watching Loki think.
“Are you trying to flatter me, Captain?” He said eventually, lightly. Steve half smiled and shook his head.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m not much of a flatterer.”
“No,” Loki said, though it sounded as though it was mostly to himself. “I suppose you are not.”
THREE.
Life as a fugitive in Wakanda felt, in some ways, like a strange kind of limbo.
Time was passing, of course, and things were happening - but just the same it felt in some strange way like the world was on pause. And at least since the wedding, for a little while now, things had been quiet. Thor settling in, everyone getting used to their new guest. The world went on, and there were plans to be made, but sometimes it was difficult to feel the urgency.
Or maybe Steve just didn’t want to.
In the quiet, Steve had the space to pick up his art again. It felt like it had been a while since he’d really worked on anything - since he’d had the time or space to sit with himself and draw. He savored having the opportunity now.
He drew some sketches of the incredible Wakandan landscape. But mostly he drew people. Portraits of his teammates and friends. Nothing formal, and certainly nothing he’d share, just quick sketches, mostly from memory, mostly when he was on his own. And most often, they were of Loki.
“What are you drawing?” Loki asked, once, and Steve looked up quickly, just keeping himself from covering the half-finished sketch (of Sam, this time) with his hands.
“Nothing important,” he said, with a smile. Loki’s raised eyebrow said he didn’t believe that for a second, but he let it go.
He didn’t know why he didn’t want to tell Loki. It wasn’t like it was a secret, the fact that he sketched sometimes. Loki had posed for him, more than once - and those were good memories.
If Steve let himself think about it, though - and he tried not to let himself think about it - he did know why. His art had always been, at least in part, about processing things. Even when he hadn’t known what he was trying to process. When he’d realized what it was now, a chill ran down his spine.
He was thinking about what he might lose.
He was thinking about losing Loki.
It was something Steve tried not to consider too much. Tried not to let himself consider. But he knew they were going to be facing a fight, and he knew it was one Loki was deathly afraid of. He knew Thanos had reasons to target Loki specifically, and a potential psychic connection to him.
He knew that whatever came next, Loki was going to be on the front lines of it. And Steve had so often been unable to protect what he loved.
He was afraid, terrified, that Loki would only be the latest to pay the price for Steve’s failures.
Steve didn’t know how he could live with that. He didn’t want to have to.
So here he was, doing the same thing he’d done early on, when he’d first been getting to know Loki, trying to figure out what to do about him. Then, he’d been trying to make sense of him; now, it was like if he put him on paper enough then it would be some kind of anchor that would keep him from leaving. From dying. Like a few lousy sketches could act like some kind of talisman.
Stupid.
It being stupid didn’t stop him, though.
“Can I draw you?” Steve asked abruptly, one warm and lazy afternoon. Loki looked up, eyebrows lifting.
“Certainly,” he said after a brief pause. “Is there any particular occasion?”
“Do I need a reason?” Steve said.
“I suppose not,” Loki said. “Did you want me to do something specific?”
“No,” Steve said. “Just...relax. It’s just going to be a portrait. Shoulders up.” The look in Loki’s eyes was sharp and assessing, but he simply straightened his back and settled himself. Steve fetched his supplies and moved a chair to sit down across from him.
“You should ask T’Challa for a secure place to store your work,” Loki said. Steve paused.
“Why?”
Loki shrugged. “It seems prudent, doesn’t it? It would be a pity for it to be lost.”
Steve made a bit of a face. “It’s not like I’m some great artist.”
Loki gave him a quick, hard, look. “You undersell your own skill,” he said. “I like your work. Are you accusing me of poor taste?”
“I would never,” Steve said with a crooked smile. “But...why now?”
“Why not now?” Loki answered. Steve eyed him, and finally Loki sighed out and looked away. “It’s a grim thought.”
“I can take it,” Steve said, though he did feel a sudden chill.
“I…” Loki’s eyes closed. “I want to know for certain that, should anything...happen, something of yours would remain.”
Steve blinked, and swallowed hard. “Oh,” he said softly. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, that Loki would be having some of the same thoughts he was. Some of the same fears. It still made his stomach burn and his heart ache. He took a deep breath and said, “I’ll ask.”
“I appreciate it.” Loki’s voice did not quite manage to remain even. Steve looked down at the blank page.
“You asked why now,” he said, after several quiet moments. “I...I guess it’s kind of the same thing.” He offered a shaky smile. “I mean, that’s not all. I like drawing you. But it feels like…” He laughed, weakly. “I don’t know.”
“You are seeking permanence.” Loki’s voice was quiet. Steve didn’t look up. “As though, if you can inscribe things as they are deeply enough, perhaps they won’t slip away.”
Steve closed his eyes, nose burning. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”
Nothing lasts forever. But couldn’t some things last? Didn’t they deserve…?
“Steve,” Loki said, “look at me.”
He took a breath and opened his eyes, raising them to Loki’s face. “It isn’t over yet,” Loki said.
“I know,” Steve said.
“I know the desire,” Loki said. “To...freeze things. To hold moments in place and imagine remaining in them, forever, motionless. But that...it can’t be done.”
“I know,” Steve said, looking away again. It came out harsher than he meant it to. Loki fell quiet, and Steve wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Draw me,” Loki said. Steve turned back, and Loki met his eyes evenly.
“Loki,” Steve said, but he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was trying to say.
“Steve,” Loki echoed, his voice startlingly gentle. “Do it.”
“It’s stupid,” Steve said. “Pointless. I could be–”
“It isn’t,” Loki interrupted. “Not either of those things. It is...you are making something. Something beautiful, something that is yours. That is not nothing. That is...a kind of defiance, isn’t it?” The corner of one side of his mouth turned very slightly upward. “In a world that so often bends toward destruction...you do not give in, or back down. You never do.”
“Never learned how,” Steve mumbled, dredging up a wry smile.
“So go on.” Loki nodded at the pad of paper. “Pick up your pencil and draw. My vanity demands it.”
Steve huffed a laugh and shook his head a little, but he picked the pencil back up. “Maybe I’ll make it a caricature. Your vanity wouldn’t like that.”
“Steve,” Loki said, and something in his voice made him look up again. The look on Loki’s face was intense, serious. “I love you.”
The meaning in the simple words. The weight. Steve almost rocked back in his chair. “I love you too,” he said after a moment, his chest tight, and caught just the flicker of a smile.
He bent his head and set pencil to paper, and drew.