So, uh… I accidentally some Tony/Loki fic…

I have no idea where this came from…

I was in the shower and suddenly there were words.

*

He could be at home.

He could be at home, sprawled out on the couch enjoying his very vintage (read expensive) scotch. He could be. And yet…

The bar was a dive. The bar was a step below a dive if you wanted t get technical about it, but it served its purpose. Today, he wanted to be anywhere BUT home.

Home. Pfft. Wasn’t even his home anymore. Not even sure it ever was. Sure, he was born there, grew up there… but the word home just doesn’t fit some place that you desperately tried to get out of the first opportunity you got. No. That place wasn’t home. That place was Howard’s, never his.

A fake smirk crept up on one side of his mouth at that though, a vague little snicker bubbled at the back of his mind. Wasn’t even Howard’s anymore. Howards was gone, had been gone for years, and Tony had just left it there. Everyone had been so shocked when he’s donated it in the name of the Avengers and SHEILD and world peace or whatever. Why bother coming back to that place when it held no warmth for him? Sure, he still stayed there, but it was different. There were people there now. Noises and smells and knick-knacks and trash. Dirty laundry on the floor and actual food in the fridge.  It wasn’t full of empty spaces and cold hallways that echoed with disappointment and bitter resentment. He could finally breathe in the mansion again.

But once again, not today…

Howard’s birthday.

He had to get out. He needed to leave and find a place where no one would know him (as difficult as that was, he was Tony fucking Stark) but he managed it a few times. He just needed to be away from Pepper. And Rhodey. And Fury. And the press, the news coverage honoring ‘a great man’ and a ‘genius of his time’ or whatever the slogan was this year.

And Steve. God, he just needed to be away from Steve especially. Steve had actually known Howard, and somehow that translated into wanting to talk about him. But the Cap just didn’t understand that his Howard was not the same as Tony’s father.  They might was well have been two different people with the same name. He knew it was crazy, but he would rather regret the father he had than resent the one he didn’t.

So, here he sits.

“Another for him. And I’ll have the same.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t even bother turning his head to see the person who’s taken the stool next to his. He wasn’t drunk by any stretch of the imagination and he knew that he should at least be reaching for his cell to call for back up, but a part of him just can’t be bothered right now. One day, he’ll learn to look out for himself… just not today. He mentally shrugged and thought ‘Well, it’s not every day a magic villain Viking… god… thing buys me a drink…’

Pepper is going to kill him.

“Special occasion, Mr. Stark?”

Tony just picks up the tumbler that’s been set in front of him and takes a healthy sip, slightly twisting in his seat to face the green-eyed god.“You know, throwing me out a window probably entitles you to first name privileges,” he charming smile was well rehearsed, and therefore completely fake.

The corner of Loki’s mouth came up in a seemingly equally practiced move and he nodded slightly before taking up his own drink, swirling it in the glass gently before bringing it to his lips.

“Very well. But that doesn’t answer my question. Tony.” He took his sip and then brought the glass back to the bar top, lifting his eyebrow in something akin to amusement rather than inquiry.

Taking a moment to look over his… guest, Tony found casual jeans, soft untucked button-up with sleeves hiked to the elbows and the top two buttons undone and his longish raven hair pulled back with only a few wisps falling around his cheekbones. Huh. Villain casual. It was a good look.

‘Well, in for a penny’ he supposed.

“Celebrating,” he said shortly, raising his glass again in a mock of a toast. “To Howard Stark,” and, whipping his head back, he downed the rest of the drink with one motion. When he brought the glass back down with only a little slam (okay, maybe not so little judging by the glare the bartender just sent his way, but whatever) he let a breath hiss from between his teeth and then turned back to face Loki. “Happy Birthday to the great cause of Tony Stark’s daddy issues.” Another smile, this one was so fake and so harsh it actually hurt.

Loki just raised another eyebrow and finished his glass as well, setting it more gently on the bar than Tony had and faced forward. Then nothing.

Tony nearly wiggled in his seat when silence continued for a few minutes. He found himself just staring.

Another minute and the god’s head turned in his direction again and that mouth curl was back, definitely amused this time.

“Something the matter?”

Tony could only blink for a moment. He seriously could not be that drunk… Could he?

“Nnnnnoooo…?” Damnit, was that a question? “Just expected a witty comeback or a degrading retort, I guess… You are Loki, right? Like the ‘I-have-an-army,’ pushed-me-out-of-a-window Loki?” He could seriously slap himself for not shutting the hell up.

Maybe Pepper wouldn’t get the chance to kill him.

A low chuckled pulled his attention back to the man in front of him.

“I highly doubt I am qualified enough to judge even you on the basis of a father-son relationship,” he was facing forward again, eyes seeming to focus on nothing as he spoke.

A conversation with Thor crossed his mind, trying to explain Odin and Loki and Frost Giants… He couldn’t remember all the details but he knew enough to know not to ask the brunette in front of him to elaborate further.

Another round was placed in front of them and this time, Loki even went so far as to clink his glass lightly against Tony’s before downing the shot.

Huh.

Well, fuck…

When he was finished, he slapped a few bills on the bar and stood up, donning his hoodie (part of his not-Tony Stark disguise) and turned a final time to face his unlikely, yet strangely comforting, companion. Loki finally turned his body to face him and that damned eyebrow came up again in a question.

“So, in honor of disappointed paternal figures, let’s go make out in the back alley.”

In his defense, the mischief god didn’t even bat an eyelash at the suggestion.

He just smiled.

A real, genuine smile.

And surprisingly, Tony found himself smiling back.

3 months ago  /  35 notes