Tony Stark snorted awake at the balled up piece of paper thrown expertly at the back of his head. Snorting sleep away and sitting up maybe a little too fast not to be noticed, Tony took a wild look around the room, fully expecting to see Fury scowling at him in that special way he seemed to reserve for Tony.
Instead, the most painfully droning professor in the history of the universe was flipping torturously slowly through a slide show about the process bees went through to make honey.
For one blindingly, painfully clear moment, Tony's brain decided to give him the dumb-ass thought that would trigger his whole head: 'As if the raging hormones didn't make teenagers stupid enough, we melt their brains with this shit?'
Tony looked down at his hands, and promptly wanted to throw up. Jerking himself more upright, Tony looked around the room almost wildly.
A boy with longish, dirty-blond hair was trying to semaphore something to him, and Tony had about three seconds to figure out that that was Clint Barton, a surly eighteen in the back of the classroom. A boy at the front of the class turned in his seat, his eyes landing on Tony's and a look of horror flooding his face.
Tony looked down at his thin, frail eleven-year-old body, his stomach dipping sickeningly again. This was the age he'd finished high school at, but this wasn't his high school.
A very lanky boy in a pair of jeans that were too short in the leg and too big in the waist and an accidental-pink polo shirt looked around the room, obviously panicking, until his eyes had fallen on all of them. Tony followed his longer gazes; the ones that were of recognition. Bruce Banner at the front of the class; Clint at the back; an anorexic-looking Steve next to the boy finding him; a mountain of jock-ish muscle in a letterman's jacket that simply had to be Thor; and an ethereally beautiful, remote Natalia Romanov, just as gorgeous as she was as a woman instead of a teenager.
The bell sounded, and, as if magnetized, they were drawn to the twig of a boy that had been sitting beside Steve.
"Phil, what the fuck is going on here?" Clint growled, his hair hanging over his eye as he shifted fluidly under the shelter of his leather jacket.
Tony knew the type, if only distantly. Clint was a badass, a rebel. The kind that wasn't ever really redeemed.
The twig of a boy shrugged, and Tony had to stop himself from gaping that that was their calm, cool and collected handler. "I don't know, Barton, but it's bad. This smacks of Loki."
Steve's wraith-like form locked down, and Tony shifted half of them until he was standing beside Steve, trying to express that Steve was going to be safe no matter what in actions alone. Steve looked at him carefully, cradling Tony's face in his hands and looking down into his eyes for a long time. "At least we're together, and we're not injured."
"And we're still in 2012." Tony added, smiling a little. He checked under his shirt, the light of the arc reactor lighting his features for a moment. Steve almost visibly relaxed that there was no risk of Tony dying from the shrapnel in his chest.
"Steve, Tony, you guys can't touch." Natasha hissed, slipping between them, "Tony, you're eleven, and Steve, high school is bad enough for a twig."
"I remember...but I don't care." Steve told her firmly, "Loki's not tearing us all apart again." Tony slipped around Natasha's back, taking Steve's hand firmly.
"Guys, just be careful. Tony, you weren't in public school-"
"No, I was in a private school that when the headmaster found out that I could do equations in my head that my teachers couldn't even follow, he sent me down for misconduct and caned me." Tony told them as if it were nothing. Steve's face twisted in a mask of horror and rage, turning to his boyfriend incredulously, "The reason I left school at eleven and went to MIT at fifteen was because my mother made my dad wait until I could at least grow some scruff before shipping me off again." Steve slipped his fingers through Tony's, squeezing gently. Bruce looked like he was going to be sick, and Thor looked, well, thunderous. Tony shrugged, shrinking in on himself a little more.
Clint was scowling, "Bastards...bastards like that...need to be shot." Coulson reached for his arm, and there was more gravity in the look they shared than Tony and Steve could even muster.
"We should get going, though." Coulson said, glancing at a watch that was probably larger than his wrist.
"Anyone else notice that most of us were really tiny when we were kids?"
"Hey! I'm not tiny, I'm fun-sized." Tony objected, scowling. Steve laughed, pulling the younger boy under his arm, "But I should call Happy to come get us."
"Loki's not meant to be able to perform magic from his cage…" Steve said uncertainly, and Tony migrated closer, protective of Steve, even from his own damn guilt.
Thor was looking awfully shifty, and Tony actually pulled Steve into his arms, "What did you do, Thor."
"I FREED MY BROTHER. WE SPOKE OF WHAT HAD CHANGED HIM. WE SPOKE OF WHAT HE'D DONE WRONG, AND HE PROMISED TO CHANGE HIS WAYS."
"You didn't happen to talk about what you did wrong, did you?"
Thor looked so immaculately confused that Tony had to stifle a groan. Steve pressed closer into Tony's side. "We're so fucked." Clint groaned, hanging his head.
"So, tremendously, fucked."
Pepper looked at the vaguely familiar child staring up at her. "This would've been so much easier if you'd kept a picture of yourself from childhood," Steve grumbled.
"How can I prove to you that I am Tony Stark?" Steve and Pepper both looked at him, opening their mouths to speak, "I know! Pepper, you only got twelve percent of Stark Tower, but I'll give you a hundred and twelve percent of an orgasm." Pepper looked wonderfully horrified, but Tony wasn't done yet, "Oooh, how 'bout this one! W-"
"Or you could have just done this," Clint reached over, yanking down the collar of Tony's shirt until the glow was visible from the arc reactor.
"That's less fun!"
"I believe you! You're Tony, I believe you…please stop talking." Pepper looked slightly like she was about to be sick, and Steve only relaxed when Tony snorted, shaking his head.
"No offense, Pepper, but that was less about you and more about convincing you of my identity. I'm in a committed relationship with the single hottest person I've ever even heard of, and he's enough of a romantic dope to've convinced himself he loves me back." Steve scowled, pinching him subtly, "Hey! Save that for the bedroom."
Pepper shuddered, looking even more like she was about to be sick, "Tony, you look like an eleven year old. Please stop talking like a sexual predator."
"What's the convex term for 'pedophile'?" Tony wondered idly, holding on steadily to Steve's hand.
The teenaged Avengers began to pile into the limo Pepper and Happy had pulled up in, Maria Hill looking like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. But the rail-thin Captain America's jaw was tense, his hand maybe a little too desperate in holding onto Tony's, eyes lost and desolate. Tony didn't like it. Not one little bit. Steve's guilt was written all over his face, and Tony had known that he wasn't really winning that battle.
Tugging just a little on Steve's hand, Tony made him meet Tony's eyes, "Hey, Pepper, you look full-up, Steve and I will catch the next trip home."
Pepper opened her mouth to tell them that there wasn't a need, but closed it as she looked at her miniature boss and his boyfriend. "Alright. But the two of you need to be careful. Stay out of sight."
Tony grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Steve, "Care to go make out under the bleachers?"
Pepper groaned, escaping before any more psychological damage could be done.
Steve turned his head to Tony, the wall quickly crumbling, "I'm kind of happy that I'm still taller than you." Steve said, sounding pained.
"Familiarity's always good." Tony agreed flippantly, looking around them at the dwindling populace of the parking lot. Spying a secluded place for them to talk, Tony tugged at Steve's hand, leading him slowly into a secluded part of the building. Tony sat down with him, their legs pressed tight against each other. Tony reached over, wrapping his little arms around Steve's neck. "I love you, you know that?" Tony told him softly. Steve mustered a small quirk of his lips, his hand in Tony's still. "We're safe now, Steve. Loki won't try again. He won't get to you again."
Steve looked over with tortured eyes, "What if the war...What if the war wasn't the only darkness in me?"
Tony hushed him, rubbing his thumb over Steve's lips, "I love you, Steve. I know the man you are." Tony rubbed his fingers shortly through Steve's hair, skimming the backs of his fingers against Steve's cheek. Tony dashed a tear away as Steve opened his eyes at last, clucking and pulling Steve into a hug.
The back of Tony's shirt was grabbed in one meaty hand, and he was flying backwards through the air, a growl making his heart squeeze in panic as Steve was beared down on by two other thugs in letterman's jackets, "Sissy boy is gay after all…"
"Leave him alone!" Tony regretted the words the moment they were spoken; possibly the most idiotic and useless thing he'd ever said. Tony was suddenly thrown down on the grass, yelling out as his arm took his weight, only just not hard enough to break it.
"Shut up, pipsqueak!"
Steve was on his feet, shorter and smaller than the football players; shorter and smaller than he was used to anymore. Tony was picked back up by the front of his shirt, his fist flying out desperately for the bastard's jaw. A bone did snap this time, his hand shot through with pain, and he was thrown to the ground hard enough to wind him. "HEY!" someone bellowed from the parking lot, and Tony was dimly aware of running feet coming towards them. Steve woofed air as he was kneed in the stomach, but Tony couldn't help him: a fist dragging him up by his hair while the other wound up. A flash of plaid tackled the linebacker to the grass, one hard elbow driven into his ribs while a fist went for the linebacker's sternum. Tony stumbled on his own legs, looking up as his rescuer caught a wild punch thrown in retaliation and struck his assailant three times before Tony could blink next. Steve smacked a punch to his jaw away from that perfect face, stepping forward and drawing his knee up, snapping out in a kick even as his knee connected, sending the guy flying. Steve looked just as surprised by the strength as Tony did, but he was ducking under a messy grab, under all defenses and able to break ribs with the punch he threw, carrying the bastard six feet through the air and into the ground.
The three thugs ran off, and Tony was suddenly encased in a bony but familiar embrace, Steve turning his head and manipulating his body to check for injuries. Satisfied after a moment that was still too fast for Tony to keep up with, Steve was hugging him again, looking over his head at the boy that had saved Tony. "Thank you."
The boy's flyaway brown hair bobbed as his head did, skinny shoulders shrugging under bulky plaid that hid tightly coiled, lithe muscles. "Those guys are asshats, but, I gotta say, it's a little weird." He gestured at the two of them, and Steve kind of had to concede.
"More than you know." Tony muttered grimly, "I'm Tony, this is Steve."
The boy smiled at them both, offering his hand to shake, "Peter Parker."
A/N: So, after a rough start, I managed to kick my brain into gear today.
Due to the content, there's a good chance there's not going to be a whole lot of smut. I might be open to bribery to put in a wet dream or two into poor Tony's undeveloped little head. Maybe.
Hope you enjoy, lovelies.