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Loki is lounging on the couch, taking up literally all of it, wearing a soft, linen, Asgardian tunic and pants with way too many darts and folds to be reasonable, with little green slippers on. He is fiddling with Kai's golden apple, which he needs to get around returning to the elf.
*
For the moment, the apple is crystalline, with a soft silver glow like moonlight thrumming in its center in time to Loki's heartbeat. Kai sits on the floor beside the couch, his head resting against Loki's shoulder as he sketches in his sketchbook. He's in a psychedelic t-shirt and cut off jeans. "I made a cool forty-five the other day," he says out of nowhere.
*
"Dollars? What for? Not for showing anyone your nipples…I hope." Loki lids his green eyes and looks down at Kai, then at the sketch he's making, to see what he's up to. Usually he doesn't peek…letting Kai have his creative moments without a spy, but it IS interesting and a skill he does not have. The price of being a sorceror of sorts.
*
Kai laughs and says, "Are you going to put me out on the street?" The sketch is of a young woman in Bohemian chic, probably some random friend of his. She's playing guitar and laughing in the sketch. He's just adding shadow now. "I took pictures for that PI downstairs. We caught an insurance fraud. It was great. I got to climb around in an air duct."
*
Loki leans forwards to sniff at Kai's hair. "Oh…is that what that smell is? I knew you could not stand being unemployed. You like working. $45 seems a fair price for skulking about. Does he know you can control water and light?" He smiles faintly, as he teases. "What is insurance fraud?"
*
Kai's eyes widen. "I do not like to work," he says, aghast. "It was just a quick forty-five, not a job." He shudders delicately. His 'punishment' for Loki is he turns about and gives him a peck on the cheek. "I'm a kept elf. Insurance fraud is when you tell an insurance company you're injured when you're not. Insurance is complicated, but all you need to know is if he's injured they have to give him money, so he lied about it. We caught him walking around when he was supposed to be in a wheelchair."
*
Such terrible punishments! Whatever will he do with such cruelty! Loki snaps his hand up to grab hold of Kai's blond curls, securely. It'd hurt except that he has so much hair in his hand that it doesn't. "Damn right, you are a kept elf. But, little jobs for our nosey neighbor…I do not mind it. Unless that interferes with your…Avenging." He leans in and kisses Kai more fiercely and briefly. "I would like to see you do more art commissions."
*
Kai returns the kiss with gusto. Being trapped in Loki's grasp? Oh no, whatever will he do? His eyes lid and he grins. "I won't let it interrupt my art or my Avenging. It'll buy art supplies. I sing at Lambert's too, but that's more of a 'when I feel like it' thing." He sets his drawing aside and turns so he's facing Loki more fully. "I'm going to do a guerilla exhibit in an abandoned warehouse. The subject is going to be mutant rights."
*
Loki cocks his head, considering his activist-hippie boyfriend. "That sounds…political. When will you have time to galavant around the stars with me?" His voice is soothing and musing, like its weaving a magical path to places far away from Midgard, calling like a siren. "Am I invited to the warehouse to see it? I want to meet your friends…be with them more. Its the only way I know how to make my own."
*
"It will only run for a couple weeks," Kai promises. "If that. I might get arrested within a day." A prospect that bothers him not at all. "Of course you're invited to see. I want everyone to see. I want to burn these images into the minds of everyone who lays eyes on them." There's a fire in his eyes as he says, "You're damn right it's political." But then his features soften and he strokes Loki's hair. "You'll make lots of friends. Bucky adores you. I bet Lambert will call you his friend once you spend more time together."
*
Loki reaches over and picks the sketchbook up, "Will it be images like this? What are you creating for the show? You make it sound…provocative, aggressive, an attack with art." His eyes flick around the sketch, "This seems nice…not provocative to me."
*
Loki is laying on the couch, and Kai is on him,…basically they are tangled up, but clothed, and Loki is holding one of Kai's sketchbooks and they seem to be just talking at the moment. Bucky…make them some dinner.
*
Kai says, "Oh, she's a mutant," Kai says. "But that's the point, she looks just like everyone else." He gestures to the sketchbook and says, "Turn the page." The sketch he did before this one is of a Jay captured in a sunny moment in a park, his features half-shadowed by leaves, and his wings sweep down over his shoulders. He looks painfully sweet in it. "I'm going to force people to see the humanity in mutants. You can't look at that picture and think he's a monster. It's not possible." With glee, he says, "I'm going to kill them with kindness."
*
It's a day off for Buck, but he's kept his usual habit of not being around much. Afraid of being underfoot or wearing out his welcome. Asgardian princes and elves do need privacy, and there are things he just doesn't want to overhear. As he returns, he's got a bag of groceries over his arm - there's the sound of the key in the lock, and then Kevin comes barreling in from where-ever he's been hiding, wagging his tail. Someone must've brought treats.
*
Loki glances to the door, and makes sure that its someone they know and not..alien wolves…or deer monsters. COnfirmation. Bucky Barnes. He smiles at Kevin's excellent guarding. "Ok…so these sketches of mutants as people…yes, I could see that having an effect. Are other artists going to join you as well, or will it be a one-man art display?" Loki starts flipping thorugh the book. "Jaaaaames…what did you buy for dinner? Welcome, by the way."
*
"Beware the hound!" Kai calls. Kevin wriggles. He knows what side his bread is buttered on. "Hullo, Bucky," Kai says. "I was just telling Loki I made a cool forty-five, but I do not have a job." That said, he leans lightly against Loki, who is taking up all of the couch, and says, "Haven't thought about it. If there are other artists who want to, I'll make the space." There are other sketches of mutants. Well, people. Some have visible mutations, but not all.
*
"Casserole with stuffing," Bucky says, amiably. "And chicken." Someone's used his fake papers to get himself a library card, and started checking out cookbooks. Because housewife skills are just what a deadly assassin needs most. He rummages in the paper bags, comes up with a bit of butcher's bone, hands it ot Kevin, who goes scampering off growling to himself to chew on it in the seclusion under a chair. "Well, if you wanna go back to waiting tables or tending bar, come by Lux, give it a look. I make decent money there." And some of the girl patrons ask him to dance and flirt with him, but how much of a plus would that be for Kai? "And thanks," he says, flashing Serrure a grin. That they're draped all over each other doesn't seem to register.
*
Loki makes a humming sound of approval at James' dinner choice. "The Lux. I still need to visit this place…see what I think of it. If its…appropriate. The name suggests that its either for the very rich…or for the very decadent. Both are dangerous to be around. Fun. But dangerous. So used to getting their whims." He'd know, being Mr. Decadent Princey Boy, himself.
*
Kai watches the dog and shakes his head. "You spoil him," says Kai, pot calling the kettle black. He then tells Bucky, "Oh, I don't work anymore. I floated the idea of working at Lux to Loki, but he prefers I be a kept elf." He says this so proudly, too. He smiles softly at Loki and murmurs, "Do you think I'd come to no good end in such a place like that? Or are you afraid I'd corrupt them more?"
*
That thought has also occurred to Bucky, and he looks over his shoulder from the sink, where he's filling a pot with water. "t's high class," he says. "I don't know why I'm there, honestly. I mean, yeah, I'm good at both bouncing and tending bar, but I look rough compared to most of the staff, you know?" Then he's got the pot on the stove and is sorting through the supplies. Another look back at them, rather wrhy. "What do I gotta do to be a kept man?" he asks, deadpan. Though he knows better.
*
Kai watches Loki as he gets up and goes into the bedroom, capricious thing that he is. "I think you know what you have to do, and I'd hate to have to scratch your eyes out." There's no real enmity in his tone. He gets up to go into the kitchen to watch what Bucky's doing. "When did you learn how to cook?"
*
"I always knew," he says, quietly. "More accurately, I had to learn as a kid. My mom died young, and who else was there to take care of things? I had a little sister to cook for, and my dad, too. So, I got cookbooks from the library and asked Steve's mom to teach me things. I'd make big batches and give half to her and Steve - she was a nurse before she got too sick to work. Steve was so sick, so much. So, he and I and Rebecca'd be at one apartment or another. Usually at ours, so Steve could lie on the couch and not be bored."
*
"Steve Rogers Steve?" Kai says. He moves about close to Bucky, looking for how to help out while generally getting in the way. "He was sick a lot? I guess he got over that." He reaches for the celery. He can chop that up. "To think I was here too til I went to France during the war, and we never crossed paths. That's New York for you. I don't think I ever made it over to Brooklyn except a few times." Maybe they passed one another at Coney Island and never knew it.
*
Bucky nods at that, trying to make room for Kai. "He was a runty little kid. I swear, I didn't think he'd live to graduate from high school. We worried about him. What you see now, that big blonde meathead, is the result of a serum. So am I, for that matter. That's how I'm here now. Are you sure we didn't? Steve and I did some work with the Resistance."
*
"That would be even funnier," Kai says, "if after living here for so long, it's France where we met? You do look familiar. It's been bugging me since the first time I saw you in that bar, but I just figured you have one of those faces." He chops up the celery in neat little bits. "I was with France a lot during the War, but some of us joined to fight in the Battle of the Bulge." He smiles wryly. "I was ready to fire a gun, but they needed me in the supply line."
*
There's a grin from him at that. "I didn't wear the usual uniform. Blue coat, black paratrooper pants. The Howling Commandos kinna got to pick our own uniforms, as irregular troops, you know?" He's tearing up old bread to make mock stuffing.
*
"The Howling Commandos! I remember them. Everyone talked about them. I met. Did you ever go plainclothes into the cantinas? Every chance I got, I was there. Of course we Resistance types never stayed on the supply lines. I did see some action. Just couldn't stay out of trouble, you know." He shakes his head wryly. "Seems like it happened a lifetime ago instead of just twenty years."
*
"We sure did. I was kind of a lightweight, I got drunk a hell of a lot," he grins. Good memories for once. "And I bet you couldn't. Maybe we did run into each other."
*
Kai grins to himself. "There was this one bloke, one night, had a wound with a bandage round his head. We must've sat up drinking all night. He was so funny. An American. I never did get his name. He was three sheets, and of courses I could barely get a buzz. Didn't get as good a look at his face with the bandage, but the one I could see was so blue."
*
Bucky considers that. "I think that was me. There was a big guy with a bowler hat, too? And a little Japanese guy? We never did stop ragging Morita for having wandered off to the wrong theater of war."
*
Kai nods quickly. "Right! Right. What was the song you were all singing? I can't remember the words, but it almost got us thrown out." He sets the celery aside and takes up some onions to slice. He hums the tune, some song about three maidens and how the flowers fall in autumn. "I was clean-shaven," he says. Baby-faced, mistaken for fifteen rather than the early-twenties he gets away with now with that beard of his.
*
Kai gets eyed, for a long moment. And then, without really thinking about it, he's grabbing Kai'schin with his metal hand. Gently enough, but the plates are palpable through the rubber glove, as he turns the elf's face towards the light. "Yeah," he says, as he lets him go. "I remember. We were sure you were some French kid."
*
Kai blinks a few times, and he holds still while the metal hand that could crush his bones has hold of him. "Yes, I kept trying to tell you I wasn't a kid!" He laughs and flings his arms around Bucky, mindful of the onion knife in his hand. "I can't believe it! My one-eyed drunk American friend! Wasn't that the hardest Christmas?"
*
"One of 'em," he allows, putting down his own utensils to hug Kai in return. "I still have the scar from that, you know." And he puts one of Kai's hands upon his scalp, an inch or two past the hairline. There it is, the seam of stitch scars.
*
Kai feels around. "Oh, right!" he says. "How did you get that injury, anyway?" Kai himself hadn't had a scratch, but he can also withstand a bazooka. From a distance. Drawing back, he just grins at Bucky, then goes back to slicing onions. "How wild is that? My mind is blown, man. I went to that canteen every night I could get away just to see if you'd stop in. You Americans are always so much fun at a party."
*
Bucky's face is bright with remembered pleasure. "Hydra agent who fought with a razor. A terrifying woman. She looked like a schoolteacher - very quiet, almost mousy. But when we came to capture her, she fought like a holy terror. I'm glad to find you again."
*
"What are the odds?" Kai says. "Fate is an interesting thing. It's like we were destined to be friends, and when I found you again in that bar, like, it was this cosmic thing, you dig me?" He used the slang of the 40s, too always with the times. "This is going to blow Loki's mind," he says. "Think about it. I came up to you in the bar because it was nagging at me, who you were. We become friends, you end up attached to Asgard via my boyfriend. It's all, like, tied together."
*
"I hope we don't end up tied together," clearly, Bucky's teasing. "I mean, whatever consenting adults wanna do in private is fine by me, but…" He shrugs elaborately, then picks up his gloves again. "And….well, I'm starting to believe in fate."
*
Kai waggles his eyebrows. "I have no control over Fate," he says. "I just do its bidding." Onions are sliced, chopped, and set within Bucky's reach. "I never used to give it much thought. After all, what would Fate want with an elf hanging out on Earth? After what we've been through, it seems more outrageous to me if Fate wasn't real."
*
IT's broth on the stove simmering. The vegetables go in, as do the bits of bread - just enough to absorb the broth, after a bit. Then he's firing up another pan to cook the chicken. "I don't know," he says, softly. "But….to be the one to go through what I have….I hope there's meaning to it somewhere."
*
"I think it invites us to find our own meaning," Kai says. "Meaning is the consolation prize we carve out of it for everything it does to us. We make it worthwhile in what we do about it." He nods firmly to himself. Vegetables cut, he goes to the fridge to pull out a pair of beers. He offers one to Bucky. "Meaning is our badge of not being passive."