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"You're kidding me," Bruce said simply.
Beside him, Tony was hiding his face in his hands, half slumped under the lunch table. He looked like he wanted to disappear. Truth be told, he did. He was waiting for the ground to crack and swallow him. Satan could rise to retrieve him for all he cared, Hell was his destination anyway—
"Stop being so dramatic, Tony!" Rhodey told him, shaking his shoulder. The ridiculous boy just slid lower. "I'm so not helping you get back up."
"I don't care. Just kill me."
"You know, I was tempted not to believe that you have a thing for Stephen Strange of all people, but you pretty much just confirmed it," Bruce added, rolling his eyes. "Do you even know which way he swings?"
"Does he even swing?" Nat asked. "The guy's a loner. Probably hasn't even had his first kiss yet."
"Christine was his first kiss in freshman year," Pepper supplied.
"Oh. So he's straight? Wouldn't have figured that one out."
"Didn't he date Loki?" Rhodey reminded. "Dude has a nice way of befriending his exes, I'll give him that. Bruce, what do you know? You're dating Thor: gotta know something."
"Well..." Bruce frowned. "Loki claims dating is dull and too mainstream. I think they kissed or something, but I know nothing came out of it. They're friends."
"Ok, but Loki's gaydar is the most precise invention known to humankind." Nat scoffed, but Rhodey kept talking. Loki had bet them all that Steve would ask Bucky out and everyone had thought Steve was straight af. The day those two started dating, Loki became a rich bitch. "Surely he wouldn't try kissing a straight dude?"
"No, well— he's Loki, so maybe he would?"
"Pepper, you're dating Christine. Just ask her," Nat suggested helpfully.
"Hey, is it true that Tony wrote short poems for Stephen Strange in Lit?" Clint asked, shoving Nat to the side so he could sit down.
"Yes," the others chorused together. Tony just slid lower.
"Damn! How did that go?" Rhodey pointed at his bff who was trying to become a puddle on the ground. "Ouch."
"I was there," Bruce supplied. "I honestly thought he was just making fun of him, but..." He waved expansively at the empty spot Tony should've been properly occupying.
"Ouch," Clint reiterated. "And I guess Strange thought the same."
"Yeah. He spent the entire class hiding behind his book, glared at him a few times, then stormed off and we haven't seen him since."
"Ok. Tony, have my chocolate muffin. You need it more than I do," Clint offered.
"Just kill me. What's the point, anyway?" Tony complained.
"Do you want the muffin or not?"
"Yeah." He managed to snatch it and ate under the table. "I don't have anyone to watch my body for, anyway," he complained.
Pepper looked at Rhodey, questioning and worried.
"He was worse for you," Rhodey assured.
"Worse?"
The other table occupants groaned in frustration.
"God, I wanted to kill him!" Nat reminded.
"Yeah, we had plans and everything," Clint added. "This is nothing. At least he's half quiet."
"I'm... sorry?" Pepper apologised, unsure.
"Don't be."
Her phone vibrated and she looked at it. Christine had texted her to ask why Stephen was so sure he would be getting bullied again. Her jaw dropped.
"What?"
For a moment, meddling seemed simple. Tell Christine the truth, let Stephen know that Tony had sad little hearts floating around his head and hope they dated. Then she thought about what she knew of Stephen. Poor family, hard working kid, asshole. And Tony. Rich family, smart but at the same time so stupid, tried to appear arrogant but was a literal puppy.
Could Stephen take advantage of Tony? Well, yes, and many others had. His group of friends had punched a few people in the face before she'd come around, Steve included. (Apparently, Rhodey, Nat and Clint were a force to be reckoned with.) Would Stephen risk their wrath considering his history of being bullied?
"Did anything happen?" Bruce asked. "You've been staring at that phone for a while."
"It's Christine. Stephen thinks this is a new form of bullying."
Their table twitched with a loud thud, followed by a curse. Tony soon crawled out, rubbing his head.
"Say that again."
"Stephen thinks you're going to bully him and this is step 1."
"Why the fuck would he think that?" Tony snapped.
Pepper shrugged helplessly. She was just the messenger.
"Why?"
"You forgot when Thanos picked on him?" Bruce reminded. Stephen had been a kinda short and scrawny freshman, then he'd shot up like a tree, but that hadn't stopped the bullying. Thor had (along with his friends), after Stephen became friends with Loki. But Thanos and his groupees had started small, mocking Stephen, before they got physical after a few weeks.
"So? I barely make it to his shoulder on a good day."
"Tony, he's so thin I can bench press him," Nat explained. "You can probably lift him with an arm. Of course he's scared of you."
"He's not that thin."
"Yeah, he is. If I were you, I'd go puke that muffin so I won't be the short fat one in the relationship," Rhodey suggested helpfully.
"Fuck you."
Tony stormed out of the cafeteria.
Stephen headed towards his locker. He was done for the day, so he was just exchanging a few books, then going home. He tried to remember if he had to buy anything on his way home, but nothing came to mind. Oh well. He had to study for that Algebra test, then the AP Biology class he was taking—
"Do you have a minute?"
Tony Stark. Easily the richest kid in their year (T'Challa was younger). Always wore designer clothes. One of the more popular boys, always surrounded by his friends, always invited to cool parties or throwing them. A genius in his own right, was only sticking around so he could go to college with his friends. He probably hadn't had to work a day in his life for anything.
"Do I have a choice?" Stephen closed his locker prematurely, with all his belongings inside (Some of these books were expensive), then turned towards the other boy.
"Well, yeah. I've got a speech and a gift. If you're busy, I'll just give you the gift and let you figure it out." Tony seemed pretty harmless, all things considered. He was hugging an inconspicuous plastic bag to his chest.
"Ok. I've got time." He was walking home, anyway.
Tony handed him the bag. Judging from the shape and weight, it was a pretty big book. He peeked inside, eyes quickly growing wide. It wasn't just any book. It was an Atlas of Human Anatomy, one of the most complete he knew of. His jaw literally dropped. He'd been saving money for this!
"Wha— why?"
"An apology, I guess," Tony explained, nervously waving his hands around despite an obvious effort to contain himself. "I thought of flowers, or chocolate, but I didn't know if you'd appreciate that."
"Tony, I can't take this—" He pushed the book towards the other boy, who took a quick step back, not touching it.
"Yes, you can. I don't need it, I'm going to be an engineer."
"Tony—" Stephen huffed, helplessly hugging the book to his chest. He completely missed the way Tony stared at his arms where his sleeves had ridden up. "Chocolate would've been fine. Totally sent the wrong message, but it would've sufficed."
"Ok, I'll keep that in mind. You keep that in your arms. I hope I got the right one."
"You did. But why?" His tone bordered on a whine.
"Because I wasn't thinking and I made you feel bad. And that's the last thing I wanna do." Abort, abort, he'd said too much! Tony inwardly panicked, but didn't lose eye contact. This version of Stephen, uncomfortable, but happy and relieved, was new and quite pleasant.
"Oh, I— thank you." Stephen looked down. "But I can't take this—"
"You can," Tony stated evenly. "You will. And I'm leaving now. Bye."
"Tony!" Stephen seemed to follow him.
"No backsies!" he called back, running away.
"You got that book today?" Stephen’s mother asked as soon as she got home and saw him with the atlas.
"Tony gave it to me as an apology present."
"Tony being the boy who dedicated his poetry to you a few days ago?"
"Yes."
"You know, you've never mentioned him before," she noticed.
"There wasn't anything to mention."
"So him liking you is new?" Stephen scoffed in response. "Darling, he wrote about you and now he got you a gift. Have you two never interacted before?"
"Well, we skipped Sports together once. Hid in the janitor's closet."
"And...?" she clued.
"That's it?" He shook his head to punctuate his answer.
"What did you do in the closet?"
"We talked." He shrugged, then narrowed his eyes. "I know what you're trying to do. We just talked. We're not even friends. The rhymes thing was a bad joke and the book was an over the top apology. That's all there is to it."
"But do you like him?"
"Tony Stark isn't the type you like," Stephen replied. "He's the type you have fun with once, maybe twice. His ex girlfriend is the only exception to that rule."
His mother didn't seem convinced, but she just smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple.
"It's ok to like someone you shouldn't. It hurts, but it's ok."
Stephen visibly deflated at that, curling in on himself a bit.
"I don't like him," he repeated, though with markedly less bite.
A few days later, he got an invitation to a party that weekend at Tony's place. He didn't really want to go. Christine said she would kill him if he didn't. Loki didn't even bother give him a choice.
"You're coming."
"I have to study—"
"We're in junior year, you nerd!" the other boy snapped. "You're coming. All you do all day is study, you boring bitch. You need a tongue shoved down your throat."
Stephen turned beet red, but didn't back down.
"Are you offering?"
"Ha! That was a one-off. And don't change the subject. You're coming, even if I have to tell your mother about this party."
Loki loved Stephen's mother. She bullied her hermit son into having a social life. She'd encouraged Loki to come out to his parents as genderfluid (that hadn't gone exactly as planned, but it wasn't her fault).
"Ugh, fine."
Tony's parents were rarely at home. They usually spent two days a month there. The first one was spent sleeping after their long business trips. The second one was spent packing for the next journey. Therefore, Tony rarely got to see his parents. Sure, he phoned his mother all the time, but it just wasn't the same. His father? They rarely spoke, and when they did, they usually argued. After said arguments, Tony purposely threw a party as soon as possible, just so he'd have an excuse to drink.
Rhodey strongly disapproved of his habit, but he couldn't really stop him.
"Tones, can you just stop drinking for the night?"
"Why, Rhodey-bear? What does it even matter?" He flopped onto his friend, clutching his beer to his chest. "I'm alone and nobody loves me."
"That's not true."
"I'd be lost without you." He pitifully wrapped an arm around his friend.
"I know, Tones." He hugged him back for a few moments, until he seemed to have calmed down a bit. Well, he was still drunk, just no longer on the edge of starting to sob. "Wait here, I'll go get you some water."
"Kay."
You'd think that after so many times this had happened, Rhodey would know better than to leave Tony alone. Surprisingly, he didn't. Even more surprisingly, he hadn't expected to find Tony making out with some random girl when he returned. Somehow, the drunk boy hadn't even moved from his spot.
"Oh, damn." Really, it was his fault, he figured. "Tony!"
The girl protested loudly when he pushed her off his friend. Tony, less so. He was probably dizzy enough not to care. He didn't protest when Rhodey wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. Tony had been leaning against the railing, but he was happy to flop against his friend once more.
"I brought water." He pressed the glass to the other's hands, urging him to drink.
"I love you, Rhodey-bear," the boy slurred. "You're my soulmate."
"Thank you. I love you too. Now drink."
Tony pouted, but complied.
Inside, the party was going strong. They could hear loud music and see the lights. The people inside were cheering for some reason. Rhodey helped Tony slide down without spilling his water, then sat down next to him.
Soon enough, the door to the balcony opened and Stephen was gracelessly shoved out. He tripped, waving his arms until he regained his balance.
"What's up with you?" Rhodey asked, pretending he was unaware of how amazed Tony was at the sudden appearance.
Stephen dusted himself off, frowning. He had red paint on his shoulders and yellow on the left side of his face, obvious against his blue shirt.
"I was banished for being a party pooper. They call this the 'spoilsport zone'," he explained.
"Don't like party?" Tony asked, wide eyed and pouting.
Stephen frowned, ignoring him as he turned towards Rhodey.
"How much has he had to drink?"
"Too much."
"Of course he has." Stephen rolled his eyes and sat down on Tony's other side. The drunk boy swayed a bit, ending up pressed against his friend, despite his hands making twitching, abortive motions towards the newcomer. "You should get him more water."
"Yeah, I'm not leaving him again."
"I can watch over him. I promised Christine I'd stay as long as she does and she's over there, making out with Pepper," Stephen complained.
"She's your ex, right? Isn't it weird? It should be."
"Yeah, well... it's not that weird. We've been friends for longer than we've been lovers." Stephen hummed in thought. "Dating her was weirder."
"Weird as in you discovered you were gay or weird as in it was like kissing your sister?"
Stephen turned sad for a brief moment, enough for Tony to notice and rest a hand on his arm, squeezing. His eyes widened and he squeezed again, playfully.
"The second option. Now go get that water."
Rhodey felt the tension, but he was at the limit of his tolerance with Tony. He didn't need to babysit Stephen as well. He moved his friend to rest against the taller boy, then stood up.
Tony rested his head on Stephen's shoulder and started playing with the button of his sleeve. Stephen had worn a casual shirt, a bit too tight for him, and black jeans. Some body paint had been thrown around earlier and he honestly hoped he hadn't ruined it. Last time he dressed up for a party…
He ignored the drunk boy fiddling with the fabric, but didn't pull away, not even when Tony rolled up his sleeve, then pulled his arm up, to his face.
"Wow."
"I started working out at home," Stephen explained, trying not to gloat. He was quite proud of himself. He would never be Steve or Thor level of buff, but he had put on some muscles. Surprisingly, they didn't just look good. They felt good as well. He could carry his brother around and take his books to school and back without having a sore back. He didn't have to stop and catch his breath after three flights of stairs. "Wong helped."
"Learned some Asian b- ku-... ha-ya?"
Stephen chuckled at the wording.
"No. I just managed to put some meat on my bones."
Tony ran his fingertips over the inside of his arm, tracing the veins. It was strangely intimate, Stephen mused, having someone look at his body like that. It wasn't sexual in nature, at all, but rather an innocent curiosity. The touch was so gentle it tickled. He found it enjoyable nonetheless.
"How long can that water take?" he eventually muttered.
"Nope."
"No what?"
"Rhodey-bear not coming back," Tony supplied.
"Ah." Great. He was stuck with a drunk Tony Stark. "Some friend you have."
"No. I suck."
"Yeah, but he's your friend."
"He puts up wi' me 'nough." Tony curled closer to Stephen. "Ruined his party."
Stephen didn't know what to say at first. The shorter boy was sad and feeling lonely. That was a familiar feeling.
"Why did you throw a party when you are not up for it?" he asked, turning slightly towards the other.
"Drink."
"You can drink on your own."
"Wrong."
"Why not?"
"I lonely," Tony muttered.
"You're sitting with an almost stranger while your friends are all having fun," Stephen pointed out flatly. "This is your definition of 'not lonely'?"
"Like you."
Stephen frowned and reached for the abandoned beer. He took a good sip before talking.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"No. Like you. Pretty."
Stephen groaned. He did not just get called "pretty".
"Really? What do you like?"
"Eyes." Tony moved so he was kneeling next to Stephen, looking right into his eyes. Stephen supposed Loki had been on to something with that eyeliner.
"Thanks." He offered a smile.
Then Tony flopped do- no, he slammed his lips onto Stephen's, bracing himself with his hands on the taller boy's thighs. Stephen, to his shame, kissed him back for a few moments before his code of ethics remembered it existed and he pushed Tony away.
"No."
"Yes."
"No. I don't want this. And you're drunk and— no."
Tony pouted.
"Book," he complained. He had meant to say that the book meant he cared about Stephen and this wasn't a drunk spur of the moment decision. Retrospectively, he should've just kept his stupid mouth shut.
The other obviously didn't see it that way.
"What?" was all Stephen could get out with the rage flowing through him. Stephen had to blink a few times to restart his brain. No use. Still livid. "Is that how it works for you? Get off me!" He shoved the other teen off.
"Steph'n!" Tony called, tugging on his pants. He needed to wake up stat. His mental alarms were ringing.
"No! Did you seriously— let me make this clear: I'm not your whore. Is this what everything was about?" Stephen shook his head, snarling.
"No. I'm- I-" Damn it, genius mind, work! "Sorry?"
"Yeah, you better be."
Stephen spun around and headed back inside. He quickly spotted Rhodey making out with Carol. Apparently, Stephen was angry enough not to care about certain death, so he went and yelled in the other boy's ear
"Go take care of your friend! He's not my fucking problem!"
Rhodey spun around just in time to see him storm off.
Monday, at lunch, a familiar bag was slammed next to Tony's tray. Rhodey hadn't taken his rightful place yet, but he was obviously eavesdropping from the lunch line.
"This is yours," Stephen sneered before storming off.
Tony quickly picked it up and followed him.
"Hey, I said no backsies!"
"I don't care," Stephen snarled. "I don't want anything to do with you. I don't want to have anything from you. And I don't want to hear from you again."
"Woah, look—"
"I don't care. Give that to whoever you set your eyes on next!" he spat out.
"Stephen—"
"I don't give a shit." Tony froze with a hand on the taller boy's shoulder. Stephen didn't curse. Well, usually. "I don't wanna hear it. You disgust me. Just fuck off!"
This time, he didn't follow when the other boy headed back to his table. Loki and Wong were glaring at him, but even without that, he wouldn't have followed. He'd thought heartache was Pepper telling him they worked better as friends. He'd been wrong. Heartache was his usually shy crush yelling at him in the middle of the cafeteria.
"Alright, everyone!" Clint called, coming to his side. "Nothing to see here!" And if he added "Just a crushed heart" in a whisper when he wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders, that was between them.
Stark men are made of iron. Stark men are made of iron. Stark men are made of iron.
Their lunch table was quiet while Tony idly ate, trying not to burst into tears.
"Do you want me to talk to Christine?" Pepper offered gently.
"No. I know what I did." He fucked up. As always. Could he do one stupid thing right? Just one. "On second thought..." He offered her the bag. "Can you make her give him this? It's for him."
"He just dissed you in front of everyone," Bruce reminded, like it hadn't happened less than 15 minutes prior. "Are you sure you want him to have that? Whatever that is."
"Yes?"
"Chocolate pudding?" Clint asked.
"Yes, please. I promise one day I'll stop eating your food."
"No problem. These abs need maintenance."
"What abs?" Nat fired back. "Laura says you're a fluffy little cushion."
"I'm not!"
While everyone focused on the bickering, Pepper dragged the bag closer. She would do her best.
3 days later, she returned it to Tony with an apologetic smile.
"She tried to talk to him, but he's still mad. Give it time," she advised.
She was lying. Christine wanted Tony's head and barely listened to his side of the story. Truth be told, Pepper herself didn't know the full story, because Tony had been drunk and all he remembered was putting his foot in his mouth so deeply he would have jumped over the railing had he been higher than the first floor. So all Pepper had was: Tony was a sad puppy who knew he fucked up, which sounded lame even to her, so she understood why Christine wouldn't hear it.
Tony sighed and took the book, hugging the big tome to his chest. He didn't know what to do anymore. His crush hated him. He'd insulted him without meaning to.
"Why did you hurt my friend?"
Tony jumped at the new voice. He hadn't even noticed Pepper leaving! But oh, he knew that voice. Was it the devil or an angel? Hell, with Loki it could go either way.
"Because I'm an idiot." He chanced a glance up.
Loki was wearing a black blouse with a rather big V-cut, loose on his body. His hair was in a ponytail, a few strands framing his face. His blue jeans were rather tight. And he was wearing makeup.
‘She’ it was for the day.
She crossed her arms over her chest, silently appraising. Her lips twitched into a smirk.
Pure chaotic.
"A huge one."
"I know you talk to Thor. Thor talks to Bruce. I might as well have recorded myself for you. What do you want?" Tony asked, tired.
Loki didn't answer.
"I know I fucked up. I don't know how to fix it."
She sighed, stretching a hand towards him.
"Christine didn't even try because she's thinking of how to best murder you without it appearing in her college application. I'll give it a go. And I'll help."
Tony hesitantly surrendered the book.
"Why?"
"Because Stephen is my friend and he deserves better than to think you really tried to buy him with a book." Loki sighed, tucking it under her arm. "Seriously, what were you thinking?"
"I don't know. I don't even remember what I said. I know I kissed him and I can't even remember how that felt, and then I fucked up, royally, not even 2 minutes later," he admitted.
"You said 'book'. He pushed you away, told your drunk ass 'no' and you said 'book'," Loki explained helpfully. "Reflect on that. Now, we're probably having a party this weekend."
"Probably?"
"Dad's away, Mom's mad at him so we're going to have a lot of alcohol, but we haven't asked yet," Loki waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, I'll get you two locked together for 7 Minutes in Heaven, but you gotta know what you'll tell him. Prepare your speech."
Tony nodded, shifting uncomfortably. Did he really want 7 awkward minutes with Stephen?
"That's my best offer. Take it or leave it. If you two hook up, you both owe me for life."
"Whatever. Sure. I don't think it's physically possible for things to get any worse."
"Never say never." With that, Loki spun around and walked.
"Take this."
Stephen immediately recognized the bag. It was ridiculous, really, because it was a plain white bag and why did Loki have it, but he recognized it. And did Loki come all the way to his house on a Thursday just for this?
"No."
"Take it."
"No. It makes me feel like a piece of meat. You keep it."
"Look, Tony gave it to you and he says he wants you to have it regardless of what happened."
"How kind of him," Stephen sneered. "But no."
"Ok, fine." Loki left the book on Stephen's bed, next to him, then took out a lighter. "If you don't want it, you have to burn it yourself."
Stephen's eyes widened, but Loki wasn't kidding. She opened the bag and took out the book, then threw it at his chest.
"Book. Lighter. I'm waiting." She tapped her foot impatiently.
"Are you out of your mind? The atlas did nothing wrong!" Stephen screeched, clutching it tight.
"Then keep it."
"No!"
"Why not? It's the least you can get for your wounded pride," she pointed out.
Stephen didn't answer, staring at the atlas. In the end, why wouldn't he keep it as collateral? He really needed it and it would be a long time before he could afford his own.
"It reminds me of him."
"So? He's just a rich asshole and you got some money when he sneezed your way. You wanted this and it's expensive. I say you keep it."
Stephen turned sad. Ah, there it was.
"I'll keep it."
Loki wanted to say something more. As it was, she was really bad when it came to helping people with their feelings. Reading them? Spot on. Manipulating them? Why not? But helping her friend when he was sad was where she drew the line.
"Good. You deserve it."
"Throw the bag on your way out. It's atrocious that we kept it in that for so long," Stephen said evenly.
A small voice in Loki's head, which sounded suspiciously like her brother, told her to just hug her friend and get out. A fair trade. She hugged Stephen, then left with the bag. Thor's tiny voice also told her to tell Stephen's mom to check on him later.
Loki had been right. Her baby was crying, hugging that damn book to his chest again.
"Oh, Steph. What happened?" the woman asked, wrapping her arms around him. Stephen dropped the atlas and returned the hug, squeezing tight.
"I hate him."
Somehow, Loki wasn't Stephen’s mother’s first guess. And not just because she was using feminine pronouns that day.
"What did he do?"
Through sobs, he told her everything that happened since that weekend. He ended up with his face pressed against her collarbone, curled into her.
"You were right," he whispered at the end. "I liked him."
"I'm sorry," she told him with a sigh. "I know you're suffering and it feels horrible, but you'll get through this."
He whimpered and squeezed her tighter.
"Can I get some hot cocoa?"
"Of course."
He washed his face and followed her to the kitchen a few minutes later. His mother smiled reassuringly and put a mug of hot cocoa in front of him, where he had collapsed in a chair. Stephen sniffed miserably and grabbed the mug, pouting.
Victor poked his head into the kitchen.
"Do I smell hot cocoa?"
The woman laughed softly, pouring him a mug.
"Yes, my beloved hound."
"Yass!"
Stephen smiled slightly at his brother, who tilted his head to the side, frowning at him.
"What's up with you?"
"Boy troubles," their mother supplied.
Victor looked disgusted and just left with his mug. Stephen chuckled. His brother was at the precise age where he understood all references, but they disgusted him. Stephen wasn't above occasionally teasing him. Maybe later. Aggravating his brother would cheer him up.
"How did I end up as your Barbie doll?" Stephen complained while Loki was working some magic with his hair.
"Thor left for some pre-party boning," she explained. "Now hold still. I want to put some makeup on you."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No. I'm disappointed in you, to be honest. You're gayer than the pride flag, but you won't use makeup," Loki complained, rubbing his face with a base cream. Stephen rolled his eyes.
"I just don't get how you can spend so much money simply on face paint."
"Face paint? You ignorant fool!" Loki pinched him.
"Ow!"
"Makeup is an art. It's an expression of self. A superior form of beauty."
"Yeah, yeah."
Loki tapped under his eyes, then began rubbing his cheeks.
"You know the drill. Close your eyes."
Stephen rolled them first, then obeyed. Loki finished applying his makeup in silence, smiling when she was done.
"Ok, now open your eyes."
"Ugh, you're using that crayon again," Stephen complained when he saw the weapon Loki was wielding.
"Shut up. It brings out your eyes. Get your face over here."
"That's what she said," Stephen muttered.
"Ha. Ha."
Loki finished, then shoved a mirror in Stephen's face. He wouldn't deny it, he looked awesome.
"I'm a pile of misery wrapped in glitter."
"Oh, stop it, you drama queen." Loki complained. "You're going to drink and have fun or so help me."
"I'll take you up on that drinking part. Can I crash here tonight?"
"You can have the bed if I don't get lucky."
"Give me good beer and I'll be your luck."
"Weren't you saving yourself for marriage?" Loki asked, genuinely surprised.
"What? No!" Stephen replied. Had Loki really believed that?
"Huh." Loki walked around her friend, pretending to consider him. "Not bad."
"Really?" Stephen asked drily.
Loki giggled. She fixed her dress in her mirror, turning around a few times. Stephen watched from her bed.
"Don't mess up your hair," Loki reminded him.
"I'll be careful."
Loki stepped into her heels and checked her outfit one last time. She was wearing a loose knee-length dress, held tight around the waist with a belt. Stephen had curled her hair. The many bracelets adorning her wrists were shiny and delicate, yet they made thick braces together.
"Want anything to eat before everyone gets here?" she offered. Gotta stay a decent host.
"Sure."
They went downstairs. Bruce and Thor were already eating and they waved at them when they walked in. Stephen hesitated in the doorway. Bruce was Tony's friend.
"Looking good, sister!" Thor boomed.
Loki did a dramatic bow, then noticed she'd lost Stephen. With an eye roll, she grabbed his wrist and forcibly moved him to the table, purposely sitting him in front of Bruce, who didn't seem bothered by his presence. It wasn't that Stephen was afraid of Tony's friends. He just didn't want things to get awkward. Now they had.
"Loki really made you her model," Thor noticed. Good. An icebreaker.
"Yeah, well... I enjoy the result. I hate the process," Stephen explained.
"Same here. I squirm so much she gave up on me."
"She did a good job on you," Bruce agreed.
"Thank you." Stephen smiled briefly.
"Look, about Tony..." Bruce then said. The mood soured visibly. "He's an idiot, but he's not that mean. Whatever he did, I assure you he didn't mean to offend you."
"I don't want to talk about it," Stephen told him.
"Ok. Sorry."
Loki dumped a plate with some potatoes and meat in front of Stephen, then got one for herself.
"I'm doing your lips before everyone gets here."
Stephen didn't bother protest. He'd already volunteered himself to be Loki's canvas.
Thor and Bruce laughed at his expense.
Tony watched Loki and Stephen dance together. He knew they were just friends, but he still envied their intimacy. Loki slid low, clinging to Stephen's waist, who held her wrists, even when they slid to his hips. Tony wanted to look away, he really did, but something in his head prevented him. Loki spun around and pressed her back to Stephen's front, who took her beer and sipped at it. Loki winked at Tony. He'd honestly never wanted to murder anyone more. That bitch had promised to help! How the fuck was this helping?
Soon enough, Thor called everyone upstairs for a game of Spin the Bottle. Tony followed. Anything to get away from that sight.
And the devil followed, dragging Stephen with her despite his protests.
"House rules," Thor told everyone, showing them a bottle of vodka. "You either kiss whoever the bottle lands on or drink three shots." He began pouring shots while Loki drained her beer and put the empty bottle in the middle of the circle that had formed. "Then the person you just kissed spins. So on and so forth."
"Can the kisee refuse?" Stephen asked.
"Sure. They drink, you spin again."
The game was interesting. Tony ended up kissing Nat and Thor. Stephen spun the bottle and it had almost landed on Tony, but nope, Clint had the honour of tasting those lips. A total waste. Clint was as straight as an arrow.
Soon enough, everyone had lip locked with someone, so the hosts declared the game to be over. They could move on to the next one.
"7 Minutes in Heaven," Loki announced, producing a box out of seemingly nowhere. "Drop your stuff in here. I'll be picking the pairs." To demonstrate, she took off her earring and dropped it into the box.
Tony stiffened. Oh. That was how it was. Loki was very ceremonial as she walked around the room with the box. Everyone who was playing dropped something. Tony saw Stephen reluctantly drop a watch, warily eyeing his friend. Shit, he could tell that something was up.
Loki jiggled the box.
"Alright, bitches! We've got 4 closets in this house. Hope you'll find them as cramped as we hoped. Brother of mine, do you wish to be first?"
"Hit me."
Loki dug around the box, not looking. Everyone started clapping. More drama.
"Thor! Thor! Thor!"
"You get... a bracelet!"
Some random girl approached for her due. Thor grabbed her wrist and headed out of the room, presumably towards a closet. She was blushing. Poor thing probably didn't know about Bruce.
"7 minutes!" Loki bellowed after them.
"Alright, next! Bruce!"
"Here."
"Ok. Let's see..." This time, it was a bunched up tie. Bruce left with Steve. "Next up, Tony!"
"Yeah?"
"Oh, still awake? Nice. Now let's see who's going to Heaven with you..." Loki didn't fumble more or less than earlier. She was looking around, parading as if she wasn't about to decide Tony's future. Tony wanted to throttle her. "Ah, whose watch is this?" She waved it around until Stephen stopped her. "Oh!"
"Ooooh!" echoed the others around them.
"No." The boy was almost panicking.
"Can't refuse. This ain't Thor's game."
"You can't make me!"
"Course not. Not on my own." She gestured towards the group surrounding them. Everyone was way too delighted by the prospect of forcing them to be stuck with each other, like sharks thirsting for drama.
The crowd shoved them into a closet together, despite their efforts.
"You don't have to bang!" Loki called from the other side of the door. "You don't even have to talk! Murder each other so I can have some diversity in this game!"
Then the little bitch left. That meant that Tony was now crammed into a closet with Stephen. In the dark. Alone. Oh God.
Tony wiggled a bit, trying to get into a comfortable, if not dignified position. Stephen helped once he realized what he was doing. They ended up standing up in front of each other with just a few inches between their bodies. He could feel Stephen holding his right wrist with his left. His speech was instantly forgotten.
"Are you ok? They were kinda rough."
"I'm fine," the taller boy replied after a few seconds. "My right wrist is still more sensitive..." Since freshman year. When Thanos had busted it. Everyone had assumed that Stephen had healed, but he was still suffering from a light tremble. Nowhere near enough to prevent him from writing anymore, but enough to remind him of the months he'd had it in a cast.
"I have a tie in my pocket. I can try and make a brace if you want," Tony offered.
"You have a tie," Stephen echoed, incredulous.
"Yes." What was his deal?
"To a house party." Oh.
Tony rolled his eyes. Stephen was too sarcastic for someone in pain.
"My butler insisted. Do you want it or not?"
There was a moment of silence and now Tony was getting offended. Stephen hated him, ok, he thought Tony was an asshole, but did he really think Tony was out to hurt him? That was ridiculous.
"I want to help," he added. Ok, speech time. Only a little more preparation needed. "Can you just let me help and listen to me for a minute?"
"I'd really rather not, but I don't have much of a choice," Stephen replied.
"Well, you could choke me, but your hand's busted and you're refusing help, so..." the shorter boy shrugged.
"I suppose I can tolerate you until we get out of here and I murder Loki," he finally conceded.
"Wrist." Tony delicately held the offered limb while the taller boy held his phone with the flashlight and guided him on how to best wrap it. "Ok, here goes: I'm an idiot. I'm horrible with people and I can't remember what I meant, but I know I didn't mean to offend you. I never intended for it to just be physical between us and I didn't get you that book because I wanted to buy you. It was the only thing I could come up with that would make you like me, or at least tolerate me. I already had a bad grade after the whole poetry thing which, by the way, was just a desperate attempt at getting your attention."
"What are you saying?" Stephen turned off the light and retracted his hand.
"I'm saying..." Come on, Tony. One shot. All or nothing. "I'm saying I like you.And all this has been me being very bad at telling you."
"I—-"
"It's ok if you don't want anything to do with me anymore. I'm fucked up. I just wanted to tell you the truth and ask you out, just to tell everyone I tried. So... just say no and I'll leave you alone. Or come, because it's totally on me after all my fuck ups, but you don't have to do anything. Just in case I get drunk again."
Stephen took his sweet time before he answered. Enough that Tony could feel himself start sweating nervously.
"If I say yes, where are you taking me?" he finally asked.
"Wherever you want. Pancakes? Do you like pancakes? I know a great place." Tony stopped talking for a moment. "Wait, are you saying yes?"
"I... yeah, I guess I am." Stephen could feel his logical side yelling at him that this was a mistake. But honestly? He hadn't been on a date in way too long. And he liked Tony. Had liked him, whatever. But he liked him enough that he'd been heartbroken by the book moment with Loki. So maybe he could give in, like Christine always told him to. Just once. His mother kept insisting that he followed his heart, so if that dumb organ wanted this depressed rich kid, he would give it a shot. "Since when?"
"I liked you? The closet. I don't know why. You just engaged my mind. Then I saw my chance with the rhymes and— shit, I'm repeating myself." Tony took a quarter of a step back and thumped his head against the wall. "Should I even get my hopes up?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you like anything about me or are you in just for the free pancakes?"
"I wouldn't lead you on." Stephen realized that Tony had just bared his heart to him and he'd pretty much said 'ok, thanks'. He had to fix that. "I... I reacted like that because you hurt me. I'm just... wary."
"Ok. One date. To try it out. No obligations," Tony clarified.
"Sounds good. You've got my Facebook."
They just chatted a bit for their remaining time, which passed surprisingly quickly.
Loki was the one who dramatically opened their closet, then announced to those behind her
"Alright, everyone! No murder, no making out! Give me my money!" she yelled.
Stephen shook his head and whispered something in her ear, then quickly walked away. Tony lingered a bit outside the closet, unsure. Should he follow? Maybe he was overstepping...
Meanwhile, Loki was gathering money, doing a victory dance. Thor was laughing and starting the next game. Tony saw a chance to flee, and nobody stopped him. He was a bit disappointed by Stephen having left so abruptly. He took out his phone, wondering if it was too soon to write to him—
"That little shit."
25 minutes. That was how long they'd been locked together. Clint found him and explained that Loki had made the crowd vote for their release. They'd voted no both times. Loki had taken them out so she wouldn't forget about them.
Afterwards, Tony found a beer in his hand and tried to relax and enjoy the party. That was surprisingly difficult. It shouldn't have been. He'd patched things up with Stephen. He should've been happy. Why did his victory feel incomplete?
He left early.
Stephen had walked away as quickly as he could, embarrassed by the sudden attention. What was he, a circus monkey? He was going to throw away Loki's favourite lipstick. He headed straight to Loki's bedroom with that in mind...
Only to walk in on Christine and Pepper getting it on. He saw... well, more boobs than ever before in his life and froze in the doorway.
"Get out of here!" Christine screeched.
"SORRY!"
Stephen slammed the door shut, cheeks burning. Ok, where to next? He was still thinking about the conversation with Tony, but he needed a friend to talk to. Loki was murderable, Christine was getting busy, so that left...
Wong.
He wasn't hard to find and, to Stephen's eternal luck, he wasn't busy. Well, he was dancing and totally eyeing some girl, but Stephen knew Wong well enough to be able to tell that he wasn't interrupting anything important. Also, despite his grouchy face, Wong loved him.
They went outside, and while Wong was smoking a cigarette, Stephen told him everything. Wong obviously laughed at his expense and took Loki's side. Ass.
"Did I do the right thing?" Stephen finally spelt it for him.
"Considering your moping after that scene in the cafeteria, yeah, go for it. I'll be officiating your wedding."
"What?" Stephen hissed. "I don't even know if I want to date him!"
"Oh, please. You're so obvious the whole school knows. Stop lying to yourself." Wong sighed when Stephen looked down. "Look, you like him. Just go on that damn date. Maybe he fucks up again."
The taller boy covered his face with his hands.
"I don't know if I want him to fuck up."
"You don't know what you want," Wong surmised. "I say go for it. If it's good, it's good. If it's bad, at least you can weep and eat ice cream and get over it," he explained with all the compassion Stephen knew him capable of (little to none). It was as good an advice as any.
"Thank you."
He went home shortly afterwards.
His father was eating in the kitchen, poking around the fridge. Stephen sighed. He'd hoped that everyone would be asleep and his father wasn't exactly his favourite family member, not since the boy had come out as bisexual. He hadn't been shunned, there had been no overt conflict (unlike Loki), but their relationship had grown distant. Stephen supposed a lot of it had to with his personality, not just his sexual orientation.
"Hey," he greeted lamely.
"Oh! Thought you were sleeping at the Odinsons," his father replied.
"I was offered a bed, but it was occupied when I wanted to go to sleep," Stephen explained, leaving out the part of how it was occupied. His father could probably deduce it.
"Right. Want something to eat?"
"No. I'll just go to bed..." He was halfway to the staircase when he heard
"You look sad."
"Boy troubles," he replied, knowing that a dismissal would follow.
"You know, when I was your age, I only had one thing on my mind." Yeah, that was what Stephen feared. "But you're not like me. I hope your boy isn't like me, either." A bag shuffled. "Good night."
"Good night, dad."
Their interaction had gone a lot better than Stephen had expected.
The next day, he was eating lunch with his family when he got a text from Tony, asking if he wanted to meet later. Stephen hesitated.
"Can I go on a date?"
"Yeah."
"Sure. Be home by 10," his mother said. "Who is it?"
"Tony. We, uh, we made up."
"Are you sure about this?" she pressed.
"No."
Her face softened in concern. Stephen looked down, fiddling with his food. He wasn't hungry anymore.
"Is he the one who called you a whore?" his brother asked.
"Victor!" both their parents jumped.
"What? I'm saying it as it is."
"He didn't call me anything. He was drunk and I misunderstood," Stephen defended. "He doesn't even remember all that."
His father looked up, as if he was praying.
"If you're sure..." his mother said hesitantly.
And wasn't that the problem? He wasn't sure of anything. Stephen wished someone would just smack him over the head with the answer.
"If you're not sure, you might as well stay home," his father advised. "You're wasting that boy's time if you go with doubts."
That would have to do for a reality check.
"Thanks."
Tony shifted on his feet, unsure. He'd gotten pep talks from pretty much all his friends, Jarvis, even his AI. At this point, he should have been hyped and ready to face this challenge.
Which obviously wasn't the case. He'd felt Stephen's doubt the previous night. Maybe he'd just wanted to avoid awkwardness during their dark moments. He'd fled so quickly, though, that Tony had lost all faith. Rhodey had had to pick up his phone and text Stephen himself. To his surprise, Stephen had agreed to meet and they'd settled the details. He texted like an old man, short and to the point. Tony just wanted to start with a clean slate.
He'd debated on bringing a present, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be welcome. Tony enjoyed offering things to people, but Stephen was still trying to convince himself that he wasn't being bought. So he was just awkwardly waiting there, fiddling with his phone until Stephen arrived.
"Hey."
"Hey. I hope those pancakes are good. I didn't eat dessert at home," Stephen began.
"The best," Tony assured with a grin. "Order whatever you want, they're all good. And I'm paying, if that's ok."
"It's ok for a first date," Stephen assured.
They walked in and ordered. The conversation started a bit stiff, but, by the time their pancakes were ready, they were already chatting energetically. About everything. And they didn't stop. At all. Stephen noticed that, as time wore on, the words just seemed to fly out of his mouth. So when Tony randomly extended his hand towards him, Stephen grabbed it with a smile.
"I enjoyed myself," Stephen told him, "but the personnel are starting to glare at us, so I think we should leave."
Tony looked around and, indeed, they were. He checked his watch and winced. 8:15. They were past closing hours. He sighed and folded a bill under his plate.
"Let's go. Can I walk you home?"
They stood up and walked out, hand in hand.
"I'm sorry. I live quite far. Need to take the bus." Tony nodded, accepting that they had to part ways. "I had fun today. We should go out again."
"I can't wait." He lifted his arms, asking for a hug.
Stephen chuckled, accepting it. He briefly squeezed the shorter boy in his arms, then slid away a bit, still holding the other close. This was it. He leaned down, slowly. This was something they would both remember, not a spur of the moment drunk mistake. Tony's heart beats picked up. Was this really happening? It was. He had to tilt his head up a bit, but it was happening. Their first kiss was slow and gentle, one of the more chaste ones Tony had had, but he enjoyed it and Stephen was still blushing when he pulled back. Cute.
"See you tomorrow," Tony said with a smile.
Stephen returned it shyly.
"Tomorrow."
They texted on Facebook the rest of the night.
"Your eyes make the sky lame
My soul is for you tame..." Tony recited his poetry in front of the class. Their homework had been a 20-line poem.
Stephen was bright red, hiding behind his book. His classmates were all staring at him, grinning like idiots. The teacher himself had an amused smirk on his face. Oh, dear God.
"And for all my chance
I hope we share a dance."
Finally over. Everyone was openly staring at Stephen now. He hid his face in his desk and put a book over his head.
"You are quite talented, Stark. I hope your significant other appreciates this," the teacher commented. "A-."
"Thank you, Mr. Fury."
Tony returned to his seat, winking at Stephen when he weakly glared at him. They had been dating for a few weeks. It was still a new, fragile relationship, but they weren't doubting it anymore.
After class ended, Tony went to his boyfriend (and yes, posting on Facebook that they were an item had been a very satisfying moment) and kissed his temple. Stephen was still sitting down, trying to revert his face to its normal colour. Tony wasn't helping.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't." And wasn't it something wonderful, to be able to say that and completely believe it?
"You're the worst boyfriend ever."
"I'm the best and you know it. I'm actually offended that you wrote about med school and not me. You're a bad boyfriend."
"I let you have my dessert every day. I wrote about my first love."
"I'm hurt, babe."
They left the room together, parting ways to go to their lockers. Tony would call it a good day. Teasing his new boyfriend was his newfound hobby. Stephen never admitted it, but he loved PDA.
Yeah, life was good.