Blood
1:2
Clint blinked and looked around, slowly and confused. He kept having these moments where he was himself again, no longer controlled by Loki. This was one of those. He stood up and began to walk out the room.
"Going somewhere?"
Clint froze.
"I'm going back to the Avengers and then we're going to kick your sorry ass to wherever the hell you came from."
"See, I could let you do that. Alas, I will not. You see, I have been inside your head and it appears we have something in common; something I would love to share some time with you doing."
Clint knew he would more than likely regret this and yet he still turned around to face the God. The God who was currently playing with a knife.
"What do we have in common?"
"Well, not so much as in common as... Polar opposites and yet they still do go together so sweetly. I can be quite sadistic and you, my dear Clinton, can be oh so masichistic. Tell me about Budapest. Tell me how you got Miss. Romanoff to tie you up and whip you; to make you scream and beg for more-"
"SHUT UP!"
Clint hated himself. He hated Loki. Yet he was drawn to the idea. And Loki knew it. He longer for Loki to tie him up. To hurt him; to make him bleed. To make him writhe and beg. But Gods did Clint hate him.
"What are you thinking..?"
"I think, Clinton, you should come back to my chambers and have a bit of fun with me..."
That was when Clint felt the tug in his mind. Loki trying to take him over, but this time, Clint fought it. A small snarl crossed Loki's lips.
"Why are you trying to control me into this? Obviously you haven't spent long enough in my mind to know that I'll take your offer. On one condition... No brain control throughout."
Loki stood for a moment.
"Very well. To my chambers..."
