Strangefrost Oneshots

part twenty-three ~ midnight in venice (1)

Venice

Loki landed gracefully from the Bifrost onto one knee in a forest outside the city. He got up and dusted some soil off of his coat before beginning the short walk into Venice, Italy. He needed a break from Asgard, from being king and most of all - from being Odin. He hadn't realised how taxing being a great old man was going to be. Here, where almost nobody knew him, he could be himself and finally spend some time alone.

He strode down a cobblestone street, glancing up at the ancient buildings to his right, and down at the beautiful canal to his left. Venice was an exquisite city and Loki felt peace settle inside him as the only sounds reaching his ears were those of his shoes on stone. 

He turned up an alley into another street, which was much busier than the previous one. A hotel towered over the pedestrians lining the pavement and a little restaurant was cooped up on the corner. He smiled. The perfect place to spend the night. He couldn't be away from Asgard for too long, so one night would have to do.

He checked into the hotel with a flawless Italian dialect, a wondrous advantage of his Allspeak, and dropped his coat on the humongous down feather bed in his luxurious room. The afternoon was bleeding into evening as he walked over to the little harbour next to the canal. He sat down onto a bench, watching the sun set over the turquoise water and red roofs.

The air grew cold and as the people milling around the busy street dispersed, Loki returned to the hotel. He walked through the lobby and waited after pressing the elevator button.

The elevator doors opened and capturing Loki's attention immediately was a pair of intelligent, striking blue eyes. The tall man they belonged to tipped his head back slightly and took a deep breath. Loki strode inside with an intrigued smirk. The man was lean and poised and elegant. Sophistication melted off of him in waves and Loki had never felt more magnetised in his life. The turn the day had taken was very welcome.

"Up or down?" Loki asked, his voice smoky and deliberately seductive as he cocked a brow to the man now on his right. They were roughly the same height, yet Loki still managed to look down to him as the doors closed.

"Up," he responded, his voice deliciously deeper than Loki had expected. "Top floor."

Loki pushed the button to the top level of the hotel with a slender finger before straightening and holding his hands behind his back. Sparing a few moments to observe him, Loki's eyes roamed the man's dapper reflection in the lift's mirror. He wore a navy suit and a charcoal dress shirt underneath. No tie. The top button was undone. His body curved in and out, and cut straight at all the right places, making Loki ache to see beneath the creasing, dark suit.

Their reflections locked eyes and Loki grinned impulsively, blinking slowly before lifting his chin and scratching just beneath his jaw, showing off the chiselled jaw he knew he had. He was disguising his thumping heart with his brass confidence.

The man cleared his throat. "Are you staying? At the hotel, I mean."

"Indeed, I am," Loki said, casting the man a suggestive look from the corner of his eye. "I'm off to fetch my coat. There's a bistro across the way that looks rather decadent."

"Cibo per l'anima?"

Impressed at his practised tongue, Loki turned to look at him face-to-face. "Precisely. And what about you?"

"Work convention," the man sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as it shone like silk in the dim elevator light. Loki became aware of his long, ebony, slicked-back hairstyle and clenched a fist to quench the temptation to check its guaranteed tidiness.

"Sounds exhausting." Loki shook his head. "Care to join me instead?"

"I don't know you."

Smirking, Loki chuckled, "You could."