A/N: And now we have come at last to the end of our story. (Final reviews would be very appreciated. Let me know what worked and what didn't. Let me know what you especially liked or what just didn't work for you.)

Thank you for reading and following, for favoriting and reviewing. Thank you for loving these two as much as I do. This is it. Here it is in all its fluffy goodness - my final love letter to Steve and Loki, to Loki and Steve.

Disclaimer: Thank you Marvel for creating these wonderful characters, for putting Joss in charge of them, and for allowing the actors to truly embody them. This universe is yours. I'm happy just to play in it.


Captain Steve Rogers wakes up Thanksgiving morning next to his lover and marvels at how different this day already feels compared to last year. Last year, he had no idea where Loki was or if he'd ever see the god again. Last year, all they had done was kiss. And now…now here they are sharing a bed and a life. He can't help himself. The artist strokes Loki's hair and gives him a light kiss.

A smile spreads across the god's face. "Morning," he mumbles.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Steve whispers.

"Is it time to cook the poultry?"

He checks the time. "Not for another half hour. Go back to sleep." Steve watches Loki shift beneath the covers and let out a breath. Half an hour later, the soldier gets out of the warm bed, puts on his slippers, and quietly walks to the kitchen. He turns on the oven and waits for it to get to the proper temperature. Even in his flannel pajamas he's cold, so he stands by the stainless steel appliance as it heats up after taking the turkey out of the refrigerator. Steve could make coffee, but he wants to try to sleep some more after the bird goes in.

Finally, the oven indicates that it is properly pre-heated. Steve opens the door, relishing the heat that pours over him, then places the pot with the seasoned turkey on the rack. After closing the door, he double-checks the time that it needs to cook and sets the timer. He sneaks back into his room and climbs into bed. It isn't as warm as when he left it, but Loki senses his return and pulls him close.

"You didn't wake me."

"I forgot," Steve lies.

"You're cold." There's no reply. "Do you know the best way to warm up?"

"No. How?"

"Body heat and friction," Silvertongue replies as he slides his hand up the soldier's shirt.

xxxxx

Everyone is there for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Loki has to make the rectangular table longer so they'll all fit. Tony and Steve are at the two ends. On one side are Pepper, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce. On the other side are Jane, Thor, and Loki.

They all contributed something to the dinner, and it feels like a real family. Steve even makes everyone hold hands while he says a word of prayer before they eat. And then it's all about the eating.

After they've had their fill of turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and broccoli-and-cheese casserole and sweet potatoes and fruit salad, Bruce clears his throat. "Um, guys, I need to tell you something. Uh, I, um…First, I want you to know how grateful I am to all of you. These have been a great few years."

"You're leaving," Tony interrupts as he stares at his empty plate. The mood changes immediately.

"Just for a few months," Bruce confirms. Natasha asks where he'll go. "India. There's a lot of people there who still need help, and I…I uh…I need to feel…I need to be useful."

"You are useful," Tony says, his eyes still on his plate. "You're useful to me…to us…to the Avengers."

"I'm more than an Avenger, Tony."

The billionaire finally looks at him with his big brown eyes. The emotion shining behind them is almost deafening. "You don't think I know that?"

"When?" Loki asks quietly.

"Next week. Maybe the week after." He slowly turns back to Tony but finds it difficult to look directly at him. "It'll just be till March, maybe April. I need to recharge, to unplug from the world for a while."

Tony stares at him. He blinks. "You're taking a satellite phone." It isn't a request.

"Okay."

"It will include a GPS and a panic button…just in case."

"I'd rather not."

"Too bad. You'll also be calling us every week to let us know you're okay."

"That's not negotiable," Loki informs Bruce.

"Fine." It's obvious Tony and Loki are not convinced. "Fine," Bruce says again more emphatically.

There's a pregnant pause before Steve says, "That's settled then. We'll hate to see you go, Dr. Banner."

"Dr. Banner?" Bruce questions. "Really?"

"Sorry. Weird vibe. I went into Captain mode." He takes a breath and looks at his friend, his brother-at-arms, his family. "We're going to miss you, Bruce."

"He's not leaving yet," Clint notes. "You people are such downers. Come on. Let's clean up and go watch some football."

Pepper and Natasha take the lead, directing everyone on what to do. Soon the table and the kitchen are clean, and everyone takes their place in the living room. Steve and Loki are lying on the floor. Jane is on Thor's lap in one of the chairs. Bruce is in the other chair. Natasha, Tony, and Pepper are all on the couch. Clint is sitting on the floor against the couch near the spy. The Dallas Cowboys game is on the tv as everyone succumbs to some form of food coma. Every so often, one or two of them will get up for a piece of pumpkin pie or a brownie or a turkey sandwich.

The day ends for Steve the way it began. He is lying next to Loki and feeling grateful for everything. The soldier says a silent prayer before wrapping an arm around the Trickster and closing his eyes.

xxxxxx

The day Bruce leaves them is a difficult one. Tony has provided a private plane so that the scientist can at least travel to India in style. The billionaire also shows up with a gift.

Bruce opens the bright purple bag cautiously. A confused look crosses his face. He reaches in and pulls out something in a more subdued purple. Unfolding the item reveals it to be a pair of pants. Everyone looks at them silently.

"It's a prototype," Tony finally says.

"You got it to work?" Bruce asks.

"Theoretically. The few tests we've done look good. You'll have to do the real field testing."

"I don't plan on letting the Other Guy out while I'm there."

"Even so. You never know when Loki's gonna show up and piss you off."

"Or when Tony will appear, talking incessantly and poking you with sticks," Loki returns.

"Stretchy pants?" Natasha finally asks to be sure she understands.

"The stretchiest," Tony confirms.

"Why are they purple?" she asks.

"Tony's idea of a little joke, no doubt," Bruce says.

There are hugs all around, and then Bruce grabs his duffel bag and walks onto the plane. No one leaves until the aircraft is completely out of sight.

xxxxxx

It is about a week and a half until Christmas, and there is snow in New York City. Tony is missing it though. A couple of days after Bruce's departure, the billionaire decided to spend the winter in California, claiming his skin is too delicate for the North-Eastern winter.

It's a Tuesday, and Steve has decided to take the day off from work. He's been doing freelance illustration and design work that his new agent has been getting for him. He's even thinking of taking up painting for his own personal artistic growth. But that's something to think about later. Today, he wants to show Loki his city.

They dress warmly. Steve is in khaki pants and a thermal shirt under a grey, form-fitting sweater. He wears brown boots, a grey coat, and a red baseball cap. Loki wears dark jeans, a white long-sleeved t-shirt, and a wool-lined black leather jacket that looks almost like a sports coat. His boots are black, and he wears a grey fedora and a yellow and green striped scarf.

First stop is Central Park. The snow has transformed it into a Narnia-like wonderland. (He, Loki, Clint, and Natasha watched the first movie recently.) Steve lets the god walk a little ahead of him. Once they are far enough apart, the soldier bends down and grabs two handfuls of snow. He quickly pats it into a big snowball. When he's satisfied, he calls, "Hey, Tricks!"

Loki turns and gets hit in the upper chest, the impact causing a spray of snow to hit his face. He opens his eyes slowly. "What was that?" he asks dangerously, an eyebrow arching up.

Steve is already creating another one when he answers, "Snowball." He smiles and throws the new one, hitting the god in the left shoulder this time.

Loki looks at his shoulder then back at the artist who is already grabbing more snow. The god bends down quickly and makes one of his own. Steve throws his first, but Loki catches it with the help of a little magic. Then he throws the two snowballs he now has at the soldier. Steve turns to the side to provide a smaller target. One hits his shoulder. The other gets part of his back. There's a large smile on his face when he looks at the god. "Oh, it's on."

After ten minutes, they are covered in specks of snow and laughing. Steve finally surrenders, his face hurting from the cold and the laughter. "Never challenge a Frost Giant to a snowball fight," Loki informs him with a triumphant smile.

Next they go to Macy's to see Santa Claus. They don't actually stand in line or anything, but Steve wants to show Loki what Christmas is like for the kids, how magical it is, how St. Nick is the embodiment of the Christmas spirit. They also go look at some of the Christmas window displays and the faces of the people looking at them.

After a leisurely lunch, Steve takes Loki to Rockefeller Center to see the huge tree and go ice skating. "You strap razors to your feet and skid about on the ice? Are you people mad?" the god asks when Steve hands him a pair of ice skates.

"It's fun. Don't you remember Tasha talking about it last night? When you're first learning, half the fun is just trying to stay upright."

The look on the Trickster's face indicates he is not entirely convinced, but he puts the razors on his feet anyway.

Out on the ice, the god is completely unsteady and immediately uses magic to keep his balance. Steve knows something is off as soon as Loki stands upright and glides effortlessly with his hands in his pockets. The soldier skates to him far less elegantly. "No magic," he commands as he stops in front of his lover.

Loki looks him up and down. He makes a face like he's about to argue but then simply says, "Fine." His hands come out of his pockets and are held out to his sides. His feet falter, nearly sliding out from under him. The god grabs Steve's arm to steady himself.

The artist stays still until his partner gets his footing. Then he begins to skate forward slowly, pulling Loki with him. He gives encouraging looks and smiles as the Trickster slowly, slowly loosens his hold.

Sooner than expected, the god is skating on his own. It is wobbly and a bit slow, but he's doing it. They make it half-way around the rink before Loki completely loses his footing. He grabs Steve's arm just as he begins to fall on his ass. The pull on his arm makes the soldier lose his balance, too, and he ends up landing on top of Loki, his head buried in the god's chest.

Loki can feel the body on top of him begin to shake. It worries him. "Steve, my sweet, are you all right?" There's no response other than more shaking. "Steve?" There is a hint of worry in Loki's voice.

Steve's head slowly rises, a huge grin on his face. He's laughing. "Finally!" He shouts, his body still on Loki. "Something you aren't immediately perfect at!"

"That's not true," Silvertongue argues. He watches his lover laugh. "It hurt," he pouts, his green eyes looking sad and sincere.

The soldier just looks at him, an overwhelming desire to kiss the fallen man in the grey fedora beginning to take hold. But instead of ignoring it or pushing it away until later, Steve presses his lips to Loki's, kissing him in the middle of Rockefeller Center in front of God and everyone. When he pulls away, Loki's face is flushed and smiling shyly.

A few people around them stare, but neither of them notice. A few of them take pictures, having recognized the super-hero couple.

Steve gets up slowly, adjusts his baseball cap, then offers his hand to help the god up. "Don't worry, Tricks. You'll get the hang of it."

"I'm not sure I want to," Silvertongue says as he takes the soldier's hand and carefully stands. "I rather like the consequences of falling."

They stand there smiling at each other when a woman and her two kids approach them. "Excuse me," she begins.

They turn to the woman. "Yes, ma'am? Can we help you?"

She looks from one to the other. "My son is convinced that you are Captain America and Loki, God of Mischief." That's all she says. She and her two kids, a boy and a girl based on their clothes, look expectantly from one to the other. The mother is blonde with cream-colored skin and rosy cheeks. Her kids have dark hair and beautiful caramel skin.

The two Avengers exchange a look. "Your son is very perceptive," Loki tells her. "That is exactly who we are."

Steve kneels down. "What are your names?"

"Martin," the little boy says. He's about nine.

"I'm Dena," the little girl practically yells and sticks out a hand. She's younger, maybe six.

The artist takes the girl's hand seriously and gives it two exaggerated shakes. "It's very nice to meet you. I'm Steve, and this is my friend Loki."

"I know," Martin says. "Can I have a picture to show to my daddy? I want to show him I met you."

The men look at the mother. "He's in Afghanistan. Second tour."

Steve nods. "Of course you can get a picture. Why don't we all move to the side, and maybe we can find someone to take a picture of the five of us."

"Is it all right the we aren't in uniform?" Loki asks Martin.

The boy nods. "He'll know who you are. We saw you on tv before he left."

The mom, Natalie, explains. "It was the interview with you two about your relationship. Martin wanted to watch because you're his hero."

"Martin," Captain America says, "your father is my hero. He's making sure you live in a free and safe country."

"I know," Martin says. "He's my hero, too. But he's not as cool as you, even if my friends say you're not 'cause you like kissing boys."

"Well, I appreciate that."

"Who are you calling a boy?" Loki questions a little menacingly. Martin explains that it's what his friends say not him then smiles when the Trickster does.

They take a few pictures and part company. Loki and Steve skate for a little bit longer then decide to go. They stop at a diner for some coffee (hot chocolate for Loki) and apple pie. Sitting across the table from each other, they don't say much. They don't have to. Oh, they chit-chat a little about the holidays and what Steve remembers from his childhood. But the silences are comfortable and don't require filling.

xxxxxx

Their floor in Stark Tower is quiet when they return. JARVIS informs them that Natasha and Clint have left on a mission and are not expected back for several days. They have the place to themselves.

Steve removes his baseball cap and coat as he heads to their room. Loki follows. The soldier puts away his things as the god watches from beneath the brim of his fedora. Steve sits on the bed and takes off his boots. His feet are cold, and he flexes his toes in a small attempt to warm them up. Then he puts the boots away. Only then does he look at Loki.

"Planning on going out again?"

"No."

"Good." They stand staring at each other until Steve turns and heads into the bathroom. He re-emerges to an empty room.

In the living room, Loki is on the couch still in all of his clothes, one arm stretched across the top of the backrest. The tv is off.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks him.

"Yes. It's…it's very quiet around here without everyone about. Don't you think?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

"Are you done in the washroom?" he asks.

"Yes."

The god gets up and walks past the artist to their bathroom to take his turn. Steve follows him.

When the Trickster exits the bathroom, Steve is waiting for him, muscular arms crossed at his chest. "Take off your jacket," the soldier insists.

After a moment of hesitation, Loki slowly removes his jacket and hangs it up. He takes the scarf off, too.

"Now the boots."

Again the god complies. "Trying to ensure I don't run off?"

"Something like that." The boots are put away. Loki puts a hand on his hat. "Leave it," Steve tells him.

The hand retreats as the god advances. Loki eyes the grey sweater. It's thin enough that the Captain's muscles are just visible beneath it. The god runs a hand over the super soldier's left arm. He gives Steve a kiss, then another. He gets kissed back. Their mouths open wider, the passion between them intensifying until Steve's arms loosen and wrap around the god's body.

Silvertongue pulls up on the sweater. The artist raises his arms to make it easier to get it off. The shirt beneath almost comes off with it. It doesn't though, so only Steve's abs are on display when their mouths reunite. Soon the thermal is off, too, and Loki is running his hands over the soldier's chest.

Steve pulls up on Loki's t-shirt. The hat comes off only to allow the shirt to be removed. Then it goes right back on the curly dark hair. The human steps back, appreciatively eyeing the man in front of him wearing only jeans and socks and a fedora. Their socks come of quickly, their eyes never leaving each other. Steve can feel the beginnings of an erection pressing against his khakis. The discomfort only increases when Silvertongue grabs the front of his belt and pulls him close for another kiss.

The soldier presses Loki against the wall. He pulls himself away long enough to tell JARVIS to turn off the cameras. Then their mouths are together again, and Steve is unfastening the Trickster's pants and shoving them and the boxers beneath down. "I want you," he breathes.

Loki cups the artist's cock through the pants. "What do you want to do to me?"

Steve presses himself into the god's hand. "I want to…fuck you," he says, the curse feeling dirty in his mouth. "I want to fuck you till you scream."

"Good," Loki replies, his hands shaking slightly with impatience as he works to free the soldier from his pants. Finally, they are off. The underwear follows, and Steve presses their naked bodies together. They kiss. "Tell me again," Loki demands.

"I want to fuck you," he repeats, the word still foreign, forbidden. He feels a sharp slap against his ass. It stuns him. Breathing heavily, he takes a moment to look into green eyes before forcefully pressing his mouth against Loki's. He pushes his tongue between the Trickster's lips. Then Steve steps back. He takes Loki's hand and pulls him to the bed.

The god takes off the fedora and lies across the heavy comforter. "Tell me again," he orders with a smirk.

Steve slowly climbs on top of him and lowers himself down. He rocks his pelvis against the god. "I want to fuck you over and over again." That gets him another slap on the ass. He pushes his pelvis down once more and covers Loki's mouth with his own. This is part of what he loves about Loki, that with the Trickster he can be crude and perverse and imperfect and human. He can have needs and wants and desires. And right now, all he wants is to make Loki cry out in pleasure and to experience that pleasure with him.

And that is what Loki loves about Steve. There is never any pretense. Even when they play games, the artist's goals are obvious and out in the open. Loki doesn't need to protect himself. He knows Steve would never purposely hurt him. He's accepted and trusted, and in return he trusts. Because of that, the god doesn't mind sharing control or even relinquishing it for a short time. And holy shit it feels good when the Captain takes it and then loses control of himself they way he's starting to do now. And surely it is the Trickster's duty to help him get there. "How are you going to fuck me?"

Steve flips them over so Loki is on top just so he can give the god's ass a slap of its own. "Language," he growls.

Their bodies are rubbing and undulating against each other. Their fully erect cocks pressing and straining between them.

"How?" Silvertongue demands as he lifts himself up, breaking their bodies apart. He can tell it's driving the soldier mad with desire.

"However you want."

"'My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease…'' Loki quotes, still holding his body aloft. He lets himself drop, his full weight pressing down on the form already slick with sweat and pre-come.

Steve turns them again so that he is once more on top. He kisses the god as he pushes down with his hips. Loki forces one of his hands between them, getting his fingers nice and slick. He then reaches behind the Captain and starts fingering his anus. Now Steve doesn't know whether to push up or down. "Tricks," he half moans half hisses. He spreads his legs, straddling the god beneath him. His blue eyes are pleading as he looks down at his lover. "Yes."

Loki pushes up against the artist at the same time he inserts his finger. "Oh Captain, my Captain."

"Silvertongue," he breathes before biting down on the god's neck and then sucking on the same spot. He moans, his lips still pressed against Loki's skin. Steve continues to move against the god.

The God of Mischief closes his eyes and strokes his finger within the soldier. He goes in deeper, using the soldier's own undulations to do so. Suddenly, he feels Steve's hands on both his wrists, and his arms are pulled up over his head. The soldier's legs close and then are used to force his lover's legs apart.

Holding Loki's wrists, The soldier is no longer grinding against his lover. He's thrusting as he looks into those beautiful green eyes. But he's still in control of himself. The god licks the artist's throat, bites his lip, forces his mouth open with a well-practiced tongue.

The Trickster bends his knees and thrusts up harder against the artist, mimicking the chaotic rhythm his lover usually adopts.

Steve gasps, closing his eyes tight. "No. Open your eyes. Look at me, my Captain," Loki orders, his voice husky and breathy. The soldier complies. And then it happens. The god senses the change before he sees it in the blue eyes and feels it in the way the perfect body moves against him. And then there is only the deep, needful, passionate kiss and the staccato thrusts that hammer against the god.

And then the moans begin, and the soldier runs his lips and teeth along Silvertongue's chin and jaw and throat.

"Yes, my Captain! Make me scream for you." He doesn't know if the soldier hears him. He doesn't care. He only knows he's close, so very close. Loki shifts and grinds and thrusts until he moans in ecstasy. He's so lost in his own pleasure that he almost misses the cries that escape his Captain's throat, thinking they are his own.

They ride out their orgasms together as if they've truly become one entity, one complete and perfect being. Their breaths, their hearts are in perfect unison. They come down together, their semen mixing and coating their bodies, and Steve collapses breathless next to his lover.

Loki takes one of the artist's hands and presses it to his lips. "I love you, Steve Rogers."

Steve runs his other hand through the god's hair. "I love you, Loki Silvertongue."

The god waves away their semen. "We should get under the covers," he observes.

"We probably should," the soldier agrees.

Neither one moves. They lie there, relishing their exhaustion. It isn't until Steve shivers that they finally get up. The soldier retrieves two pairs of flannel pants, while Loki picks up their underwear and shirts. They dress.

The Trickster grabs a blanket before heading to the living room. They curl up on the couch and watch Die Hard. Clint, Tony, and Natasha had all suggested it as an alternative Christmas movie. They both really enjoy it. Loki especially likes the cunning of Hans Gruber, and Steve likes the persistence and determination of John McClane.

When it ends, Steve turns off the tv. There's something he wants to discuss with Loki. "I thought we might spend Christmas in India with Bruce. What do you think?"

"I'd love that. Are you sure? The way you've been speaking about Christmas in New York, I though for sure you'd want to spend it here."

"Christmas should be spent with family, and part of our family is in India. Maybe Tony and Pepper can join us, too. Hopefully Clint and Natasha will be back by then, and we can spend it together. And we can contact Thor."

"He'll probably want to spend it with Jane," the god notes.

"We can invite Jane."

"I suppose we'll have to."

"She probably won't want to go," Steve offers. "But, yes, we should invite her to come along." Seeing the scowl on the god's face, prompts him to add, "Of course, you're the God of Mischief. You do what you want, right?"

"No. You are correct. We'll invite her if they already plan on spending it together."

"Tricks?"

"Yes, my sweet?"

"I love you."

"Good." He looks into those earnest blue eyes with the amazingly long lashes. "Because I love you, as well. And I never plan on letting you go. Not ever."

Steve smiles. "'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep; the more I give to thee, / The more I have, for both are infinite.'" He kisses the Trickster. "Now take me back to bed."

"No."

"No?"

"If I take you back to bed, we have to get out from under this blanket. And I am awfully comfortable right here." He shifts, moves Steve so that the soldier is lying flat on his back. The god, now lying on Steve's stomach, explains, "Everyone is gone. Why go to bed when we can stay right here." He kisses the soldier slowly.

When his mouth is finally free, Steve observes, "We can't turn off the cameras out here."

Loki smiles. "In the words of one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes…Let them watch." Silvertongue's head disappears beneath the blanket.

Steve feels a few tugs on his waistband. Then there is a new warmth and touch and wetness. He closes his eyes and breathes, "Valhalla."

Were anyone watching, they would see every sensation and emotion play out on the artist's face.

Were anyone listening, they would be surprised by some of the words and phrases coming out of the Captain's mouth.

But that's the point. He isn't The Captain right now. He's Steve Rogers, my sweet, Oh Captain, my Captain. And as one hand holds onto the couch's back cushion, the other's fingers are laced through the dark curls of his Silvertongue, his Tricks, his glorious Loki.

Steve comes, his mouth open, his eyes shut tight, his cock still in the god's mouth. And then Loki re-emerges, the green eyes shining before he kisses his lover, tasting even more of the artist.

They fall asleep in each other's arms there on the couch, far happier then either of them ever imagined they could be. In the morning, after Steve has taken Loki to their personal Valhalla, they'll begin planning their trip to India. Everyone will go, even Thor who will only join them for Christmas Eve. And they will be a family. And life won't be perfect, but it will be beautiful and happy and less lonely for all of them.

But now…now there is warmth and sleep and the feel of the one they love in their arms. It is all there is. It is all they need. Steve and Loki. Loki and Steve. Some call them Stoki. Others call them Captain Mischief. But to each other, they will always be Oh Captain, my Captain and Silvertongue, my sweet and Tricks. And they will be together until the very end.