Chapter Text
He meets Loki on an early Friday morning in the coffee shop on the corner: he can tell from the accent that he's not from New York and the name helps when the barista shouts it across the sea of people. He's also dressed in green and black and gold while the rest of the business men are clad in the usual mix of black, white, and blue pinstripe, and when he thanks the girl, the accent is familiar to Thor.
Basically, Loki stands out like a sad, Norwegian thumb.
So Thor sidles over to ask, "New in town?" as he sips his coffee, black two sugars.
Loki just lifts an eyebrow, as if to say, "Is it not obvious?"
And Thor falls in love.
"Thor Odinson," he introduces himself with an outstretched hand, aborting the gesture when Loki looks at him uncomfortably.
For a moment, the other man looks as if he's about to walk away, then Thor hears, "Loki. Loki Selvik."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Loki Selvik."
"And yours."
They go their separate ways that day—Loki toward the subway and Thor toward the precinct just a few blocks up—but when they cross paths at the bodega across the street from the coffee shop Sunday night, Thor asks if they can exchange numbers. Instead, Loki asks if they can meet for coffee Monday morning, and on Monday, he asks if they can do so again Tuesday; they end the week with a promise to meet for dinner at a pizza place on Allen street.
And their dinner is wonderful, a ridiculously topped and overpriced pizza half-eaten between them, and they have a lively discussion of New York, Oslo, and their careers.
Loki, apparently, is a lawyer who writes novels in his spare time. He savors good food and prefers hot summer air to cold winters, but he can't see himself living anywhere with a less temperate climate. Wine over beer, but he'll never turn down a good homebrew.
Thor is fascinated by it all: he's a detective with the NYPD, and in his spare time, he conducts rape and self-defense classes at the Y. He reads only as much as he needs to for work, choosing instead to indulge in movies and music, and he honestly loves the winter after being raised in California and Hawaii. Beer over wine, but then he's known among his family for downing entire bottles of red at holiday time.
They're laughing as much as they talk, so at first Thor thinks nothing of it when Loki excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Then he comes back with his eyes just puffy enough to mean something and he frowns as he asks, "Are you all right?"
A smile, and, "I am quite fine. Tell me more about this Christmas dinner with your friends."
The event, though most likely benign gets filed away in Thor's mind.
"Oh, look, another coffee," Dash says to the entire squad when Thor walks in Monday morning.
Charles Hogun says nothing though he makes a soft face toward his friend before kicking his partner under their shared desks; Sarge just smirks, his gut pressing against the lip of his desk when he chuckles as he says, "What's his name then?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You hate Starbucks and you only ever get coffee from there if you're running late or you see a cute guy," Sif tells him, one eyebrow raised.
"What? I can't develop a taste for shit coffee?"
She just shakes her head as she grins. "Whatever," she says, amused, and slaps a file on his desk, "Try not to beat this one in a bloody pulp, would you? I think Cap's teetering on the verge of letting IAB get on your ass and petitioning the commissioner to give you a medal."
"Please, like IAB could argue with the results."
"I think it's more your methods that gets IAB's panties in a rather impressive twist," Dash tosses out; he doesn't even take his eyes off his computer screen, some back report or another being carefully written up.
Thor doesn't reply: honestly, he knows that he's been a little rough with suspects over the last few months, but after that case with the child sex trade, he's had less patience than normal; he's been seeing the therapist as ordered and he's gaining back his control, it's just difficult when you've got a ten year old struggling to tell you how her brother/father/stepfather/mom's boyfriend/teacher/etc are abusing her and people are looking the other way. This job, well, it's his choice to stay, yet there are always times he wonders if he needs to swap departments, get away from the vics for a while and just... do something where you don't have to hurt little kids in order to save them.
Thankfully, this guy cracks in thirty seconds, even as his lawyer is telling him to shut the fuck up, and when they exit back into the squad room, there's the DA hanging out in Thor's chair. He grins at the detective, swiveling back and forth while slouching in a rather undignified manner.
"Aren't you supposed to instill fear in the hearts and minds of all us mere mortals?" Thor asks him, tossing down his notepad on his paper-strewn desk.
Hallins gives him a half-smirk. "I've already got you all well trained, so why would I need to put the fear of God in you? Nah, I'm saving all those lovely Devil's Advocate speeches for the new kids."
Thor rolls his eyes, his godfather a good man but a pain in the ass too, and he asks, "What are you doing here, Don?"
Sif and the others give him looks that echo the sentiment and he sits up straighter, fixing his suit jacket as he does; he doesn't often let himself lapse, but he's known Thor since birth and the others for so long now he almost considers them family in absence of his own. But he knows when to get on with business and he tells them, "Beth Fitzpatrick asked for a transfer," and they nod because who hadn't seen that coming?
"Who's our new ADA?"
"You'll meet him this afternoon—he's getting settled in his office right now—but he'll be by to go over the Murphy and Dahar cases." He stands up, relinquishing Thor's chair. "His name is Loki."
Thor sighs.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
"Oh my god, you're screwing our new ADA!" Dash chuckles as Thor flops into his chair, lets his head collapse on his hands and let out a sigh.
"We're not screwing!"
Don pats him on the back. "Before I even hired him, that's a new record."
"Fuck you."
His friends laugh heartily and as they do, Don leans down and tells him, voice soft but level, "Just... be careful with this one," and then the man is gone and Thor's wondering just how much aspirin he has in his desk.
"You didn't say you were working for the DA's office," Thor says.
That afternoon, after Loki arrives and goes over the two most critical cases he needs to learn prior to trial, he's standing beside the coffee pot as he sips burnt, jet-fuel level brew and looks over the squad currently getting themselves ready for evening change over.
"I didn't think it was relevant. You said you were working in Special Victims and I had originally expected to be placed in Homicide. Miss Fitzpatrick's transfer necessitated some changes to the original plan." Loki adds a bit more sugar to his mug. "It was a last minute issue."
"And you didn't think the paths would ever cross if you'd been with Homicide? We work cases with them sometimes."
"Yes, well... bridges, crossing," Loki tells him, and he wraps his other hand around the mug; he looks like he's trembling, but Thor's not sure if it's from the sudden hit of caffeine or the nerves of enduring twenty questions.
Thor nods and tells himself to stop with the interrogation: he's known Loki just under two weeks, the man wasn't required to tell him jackshit. "I'm sorry. I just... Don caught me off-guard when he said you would be our new ADA." Thor quirks one half of his lips up, turns to lean against the counter, and asks, "You, uh, want to keep our dinner date Friday?"
"As long as you are comfortable, yes. I would very much like to."
So they keep the date.
And the next one.
And the one after that.
And the ones in the months that follow.
And Sif—sorry, Safia, a name Thor had butchered when they'd met and has consequently shortened in front of all but her parents, unless she's on a "My name is not Sif!" tangent—smirks every time the two of them are alone in one of the interview rooms, paperwork covering the table and some of the chairs.
Thor rolls his eyes at her and Loki shrugs it off, ignoring the jokes and enjoying Thor's company.
(He hasn't felt as safe as he does with Thor, hasn't had as much comfort and fun as he does with Thor. And he knows it can't last, nothing good in his life ever does, but he's savoring every moment he does get because... damnit, he deserves someone who loves him.
Loki pushes the thoughts away.)
"Let's go over cross-examination again."
Thor shakes his head a little: he's been going to court to testify for cases for so long, he's pretty sure he could be a kick ass lawyer with all his experience, but Loki is a man who likes to be thorough. He doesn't like when his cases get thrown out on technicalities or because there's something he didn't know about that the opposing attorney does that he should have known in the first place.
"Trial is tomorrow afternoon and we've been working on this Tuesday morning, let's take a break, get lunch. I'll even let you splurge on mustard for the hot dogs."
"You can splurge. I'm going to Starbucks."
"Oh, you know you love those dirty water dogs," Thor teases: he had taken Loki to Central Park one afternoon, and on their way back to the subway, encountered a Sabrett cart. He'd managed to get Loki to try a bite of his hot dog—after pulling tapping on his cell phone's camera app for what Thor was sure would be a pretty damn funny reaction—and nearly laughed himself hoarse when Loki gagged and spit it out. There might have been some cursing of his family, but Thor doesn't really remember.
Loki flips him off.
Thor might be a little proud of his boyfriend. He tells Loki, "Fine. How 'bout we get pizza? I'll still let you splurge if you want pepperoni."
"Must you insist on tormenting me with the inedible offerings you call food?"
"You'd like it if you tried it!"
"I really don't think so."
Thor just laughs and gives him a good, firm smack on the shoulder.
It's like a switch gets flipped and Loki flinches away, tries to cover it quickly with a look of surprise, then tells Thor, "I'm just going to visit the restroom before we go. Could you make sure no one touches anything in here while we're gone?"
"Uh, okay..." Thor mutters to the now empty room.
(They've known each other a year now, or just about there, and Thor has a mental file of all the times Loki's managed to duck into the bathroom with the oddest look on his face: in the beginning, he never saw it, but as time went on... well, you can't spend time with someone you love and never figure out their expressions. Now he can see the seconds-twist of Loki's mouth, the way his eyes shutter.
It makes him worry and it makes him twitchy.
It also makes him wonder about the past Loki never talks of, the family he very easily skates around whenever it's brought up, but it's Loki's story to tell, whatever the story may be, and he can't push. Not when Loki pushes some of his detective buttons, Loki's reaction to certain touches, words, events making Thor feel like he should be chasing some asshole down a street and slapping him with charges.
And that's reason enough for him to keep his training in mind: Loki doesn't feel secure enough with him yet to tell Thor about his past, and that's okay as long as he's safe.)
He tapes a note on the door to the room that tells everyone else to leave the papers lest they face Loki's wrath—and that is definitely enough warning for several members of the squad—and then waits at his desk for Loki to return, shifting through paperwork. "I thought the May case was open and shut? We have to go question another guy?"
"Defense," Sif shrugs. "I'll take care of it. I know the guy they're insisting we question. Be in and out in like twenty minutes."
"And they say my methods go overboard."
"Hey, my suspects just fall over themselves to get distance between us. You really want to discuss yours?"
He flicks a capped pen at her.
"Should I be concerned about this pigtail pulling behavior?" Loki interjects.
"Please, the last time he had a personal interest in a vagina was the day he was born," Sif replies, smirking, and then expertly dodges the notepad winged at her head. "Go get lunch. Bring me back a slice of meatlovers and a diet coke."
"I have so many comments to make about that selection."
Loki just laughs as the notebook nails Thor squarely in the back of the head.