In an upper middle class, three story house in the suburb of Shermer, Illinois, the Odinson family began to stir. A loud alarm blared through the hall as Odin and Frigga exited their bedroom, making quite the ruckus.

Odin, half dressed, made his way to the bathroom, yelling, "Wake up. We've got relatives invading this afternoon," while Frigga, still in her robe, leaned over the banister, calling, "Thor, Loki, Baldur. Everybody up."

A bedroom door opened hesitantly as a barely conscious Baldur stepped into the hall, yawning loudly as he ran his hand through his light brown hair. He lazily meandered down the hall, heading towards the bathroom before knocking into the hall table, knocking over a vase, spilling water and daisies all over the freshly cleaned carpet.

He stared at the water puddle in shock before cursing under his breath and setting the vase back in place, praying to whatever gods there were that no one would notice. But as the bathroom door opened and Odin stepped out with a toothbrush in his mouth, Baldur knew there was none.

"It's not even seven and you're already making a mess?" Odin questioned. Baldur suppressed a groan. "We've got family coming. Could you at least try to not tear the house down?"

Baldur rubbed at his face. It was way too early in the morning for this. "I didn't do it on purpose," Baldur argued. "Why is that table there anyway? What purpose does it serve?"

Odin grabbed a towel and began dabbing at the wet spot. "Your mother put it there," Odin answered. "So it's staying there."

As Baldur and Odin tried cleaning up the mess, Thor stepped out of his room with a loud snuff. He barely registered his father and brother kneeling on the floor as he walked past, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Odin turned around, a frown forming around his toothbrush. "Thor!"

Upstairs, still wrapped in his blankets, lay Loki, a small smile plastered on his face. His eyes were closed as he listened to his father yell at Thor to get out of the bathroom. His smile grew.

Loki opened his eyes, stretching out like a very large kitten. He cuddled into his pillow, knowing that he really oughtn't before sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Just as he was about to jump into the shower (thank heavens for his own personal washroom), his phone rang and Loki pounced on it.

"Happy birthday, loser," Amora practically yelled over the phone.

Loki chuckled, closing the bathroom door behind him. "Thank you, my dear," he replied, balancing the phone with his shoulder as he applied toothpaste to his toothbrush, figuring his shower could wait.

"How's it feel?" she asked.

He shrugged, toothbrush in mouth. "The same. It's not like I expected to wake up today and suddenly know all the answers to the universe." He paused a moment to have a go at his teeth as Amora tried explaining the miracle of turning sixteen. From personal experience, of course.

Spitting out the last of the toothpaste, Loki stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't look any different. And he didn't feel any older. Turning sixteen was important. Exciting. He sighed, "You don't suppose the answers of the universe will hit me in the shower, do you?"

"I don't want to know about your naked activities," Amora teased.

Loki wished Amora goodbye before putting his phone aside and stepping into the warm shower. Today was going to be a good day.

"Briefcase," Odin repeated for what must have been the millionth time in the past twenty seconds. "Where is my briefcase?" he asked, scouring the living room.

Frigga waited expectantly by the door, briefcase and a travel mug of coffee in hand. "Where's –" Odin stopped his searching to grab the offered prizes. "You're wonderful, you know that?"

Loki half skipped down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder. Odin smiled up at him and said, "Son, when you get married, make sure your lady's as sweet as your mother." There was a beep from outside, tearing Odin from his sentimentalities to place a kiss on Frigga's cheek before heading out the door and into the waiting car.

Baldur snorted unpleasantly, in glee. "Yeah, Loke-a-doke. Though that might be a bit difficult. You don't think he'd be too upset when you bring home a sweet boy, do you?" Frigga slapped him in the back of the head before shoving him out the door.

Frigga noticed Loki's pout, putting her hands comfortingly on his shoulders. "I'm sure your father just forgot," she said, brushing a loose strand of Loki's hair behind his ear. "He's just used to your brother bringing home girls, that's all." Frigga looked at his outfit; a teal vest, cream button up shirt, matchstick jeans (as his father called them), and pointed leather boots. "You look nice," she said before taking a look at the clock. "You'd better hurry or you'll miss the bus." Then with a kiss on the forehead, she left Loki alone on the stairs.

"I can't believe this," Loki breathed, stunned. "They fucking forgot my birthday."

Loki leaned against the wall, his face set in a stern scowl, a textbook in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to smash someone's brain in.

"I'm sure they didn't forget your birthday," Amora attempted to reassure him, as she tried to add some semblance of organization to her locker. "They… just didn't remember right away."

Starting with Amora. Seriously, what kind of best friend was she? "Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday?" he asked, succeeding in not bashing in her head with his chemistry textbook.

Amora grabbed a notebook and began looking through it, a sheepish look on her face. "No." Loki nodded in agreement. It would be him. It's always him. "It's not their fault, you know. Thor's graduating from college tomorrow."

Traitor. How was his best friend a traitor? "Forgotten for the golden son, thank you for that reminder."

Amora threw the notebook back into the locker, looking Loki square in the eye. "You know that's not what I meant."

"It's bad enough I'm adopted," Loki continued, wallowing in self pity. "This is just the icing on the cake. Of which there wasn't one."

The blonde shook her head, her locks bouncing with her. "What were you expecting? A breakfast birthday party?" She slammed her locker shut.

"I'm thinking of trading you in for someone more supportive."

Amora flicked his ear. "I'm the only one who'll put up with you."

Loki pushed himself off the wall, Amora joining him in their journey to their next class. "A 'happy birthday' would have been nice," Loki plowed on, knowing he wasn't going to get any sympathy from his friend. "A simple, 'happy womb expulsion day.' It's all I ask."

Amora made a face. "That's so gross."

"I'm sixteen," Loki stated. "Girls get huge parties with fancy dresses and presents of birth control and herpes." Amora rolled her eyes. "What do I get? A reminder that my father refuses to acknowledge I'm gay, another embarrassing nickname from Baldur, and a compliment from my mother."

"You got complimented," Amora pointed out.

Loki mumbled, "Mother always compliments me." Then louder he added, "It was like any other day."

Amora grabbed his hand and swung their clasped hands in an attempt to cheer up her friend. "You could just remind them. They'd feel guilty and could you imagine how they'd fawn over you? Abuse the power, Loki."

Loki frowned. "It's not worth it."

Amora shook her head, finding some way to change the subject. "This is new," she sang, running her unoccupied hand over Loki's vest. "You look hot."

Loki swatted at her, but smiled. He did look rather good.

CONFIDENTAIL

1. Have you ever touched it?

Loki stared at the stupid sex test Sylvie Lushton had convinced him to take. It was utterly ridiculous. Had he ever touched it?

It. Really, girls? Couldn't they just say penis. Loki honestly felt like scratching out 'it' and writing penis or dick or something equally shocking. They weren't twelve year olds.

He was about to write cock in large letters before pausing.

Almost, he wrote instead. It wasn't a lie. He almost had. Next question.

Wait. They misspelled confidential. Loki felt like gouging out his eyes. He crossed out the misplaced 'I' and squeezed it after the 't.' Ugh. It looked terrible.

He scratched out CONFIDENTAIL, and wrote CONFIDENTIAL underneath it. Better.

Amora yawned behind him. They were in independent study which really meant, sit quietly in your seats for forty two minutes and look busy. The class was pointless. Loki seriously wondered why they even bothered.

7. Have you ever done it?

No. Though Loki really didn't want to admit that. Sure, his name wasn't on the test but still, he had his pride.

I don't think so, he wrote instead. There were such things as date rape drugs and what not. And he wasn't sure if a hand job or blow job counted as sex. Not that he had had any of those. Loki may talk tough, but he was as virginal as the holy mother herself. It was embarrassing. Truly.

8. If you answered "I don't thinks so" would you ever if you could?

Damn those tricky bastards! Loki tapped his pen irritatingly against his desk. He put his pen to paper.

I guess so.

No need to come off needy. I mean, if the opportunity arose he'd probably say yes.

9. With who? (Be honest. Your name's not on this, so it's ok.)

That's very reassuring, test. Thank you very much. With who? Well…

Loki turned his head back slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself. He feigned scratching his cheek with his shoulder to get a glimpse of the boy in question.

The teen stared vacantly at the clock, balancing his head on his hand. His chocolate hair sat messily atop his head, as if to tell the world he just didn't give a shit. He had a smart goatee, mustache combo that he kept neat and trim. Paired with a form fitting band tee, jeans, and a pair of high top sneakers, Loki couldn't help but be infatuated.

The boy blinked, gaining consciousness, and catching Loki's eye. Loki turned his head back quickly.

Tony Stark.

Loki let his head fall onto the desk. He was an idiot. Tony Stark? He had a better chance of having sex with James Bond. In a list of scenarios, it was more likely that a fictional James Bond would acknowledge his existence than stupidly wonderfully attractive and unbelievably smart Tony Stark. He was better off dying right there and then.

He spied the last question.

10. Does he know you want to with him?

It was like the universe was out to get him.

Firstly, Loki couldn't help but feel how this test was directed to those attracted to the male sex. He noticed on the first question but 'it' could also mean vagina. Right? Sure. He really didn't know what ladies called their… lady parts. And secondly, this test was stupid.

NO.

Loki underlined it three times for good measure.

He folded it into a small rectangle before pretending to stretch and dropping it, aiming for Amora's desk.

Tony watched the note bounce off of Amora's desk and onto the floor. He waited for the girl to grab it, but when she didn't seem to budge, Tony's natural curiosity got the best of him.

He slid down in his seat, reaching with his foot for the note. Amora fidgeted slightly and Tony froze. When she moved no further, Tony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

His foot caught the note and he dragged it closer.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" Loki hissed as they exited the classroom.

Amora just shook her head. "I didn't get a note," she said. Loki groaned loudly, running a hand over his face. "What was it?"

Loki fidgeted, not wanting to tell Amora. After a brief fight with himself, and once sure out of ear shot from any one important, Loki explained, "Lushton gave me a sex test in Chemistry and I was supposed to fill it out and hand it to you in independent study."

"You didn't put your name on it, did you?" Amora asked, ever the thoughtful one.

"No," Loki scoffed. He wasn't an idiot. "But…"

"What did you do?"

Loki held back a scoff. "It may or may not have asked who I would have sex with if I ever decided to do so." Amora raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. "And I may or may not have put Tony Stark." He blushed slightly, lowering his voice at the name.

"Tony Stark?" Amora repeated loudly. Loki shot her an incredulous look. "Sorry," she said much quieter. "He doesn't even know you exist."

"I'm aware, thank you," Loki muttered.

"He's a senior," Amora continued. "His dad is the Howard Stark. He's super rich, super smart, super hot, and he's totally straight."

Loki growled. "I'm aware."

"Not to mention he's dating – "

"Yes!" Loki exclaimed, cutting off Amora's stream of information. "I know. Thank you for the support. It's not like I expect it to happen. He's… my ideal." He straightened, hiding his worries behind a confident air. "I'm allowed an ideal, aren't I?"

Amore laughed. "Hell of an ideal."

The door handle jiggled slightly. The jiggling stopped, only to be greeted with a click of the lock. The door opened, admitting one Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. They smiled gleefully at each other.

There was no better way to spend lunch than in a science lab.

Bruce wondered off to the back of the room to do who knew what while Tony sat at the teacher's desk. "Bruce," Tony said. He didn't get a response other than a grunt which he took as a sign to proceed. "Do you know Loki Odinson?"

Bruce didn't turn round as he answered, "Sophomore, right?"

"Yeah. What do think of him?"

"I don't."

"Would you ever go with him?"

Bruce turned round then. "Are you trying to set me up with Loki Odinson?"

Tony laughed. "Gods, no. I couldn't see you screwing a guy. Or anyone really."

"Thanks," Bruce answered good humouredly, turning round from the cupboard, a biology textbook in his hands. He sat down at one of the desks, placing the textbook down. "Why the sudden interest?"

Tony shrugged. "I have independent study with him." He fingered the note in his pocket. "I catch him looking at me sometimes."

Bruce shrewdly appraised his friend. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Tony said far too quickly to be completely innocent. "I don't know. I think he likes me."

"Because everyone loves Tony Stark…" Bruce muttered, raising himself from his spot and choosing instead to stand in front of Tony. "What's brought this up?"

"What?"

Bruce crossed his arms. "Loki's in our AP European history class. You've never once taken notice of him. But you notice him in independent study? I don't think so."

The other boy was speechless. Bruce knew him too well. "I may have found a note…"

Bruce walked away, hands over his ears. "I don't want to know," he responded. Pulling his hands away he said, "Tony. You're dating Sif, need I remind you? Even if she wouldn't cut off your man bits if she found out about your wandering eye, you still shouldn't think about cheating. Who knows how she'll take it when she finds out it's a guy. Easy lay or not."

Tony stood up, defensively. "I am not after a good fuck," he said, before sitting back down, slightly defeated. "Besides, Loki's, what, sixteen? Does that make me a pedophile? "

"Sorry, Tony, but I don't have the laws about sex with a minor memorized."

Tony lay his head back to stare at the surprisingly dirty ceiling. "I'm a pedophile."

Loki and Amora were sitting on the wet lawn, watching their fellow classmates play a rousing game of soccer. Or rather, a game of soccer was happening while they stared at Sif prove how much better she was at life than any other living creature.

"Odinson," came the shout of Mr. Rogers, the gym teacher. Loki stared up at the blonde, muscled man. "Why don't you go in for van Dyne?"

"Asthma," Loki replied. "Forgot my inhaler."

Mr. Rogers shook his head in frustration before turning his attention to Amora. "Allergies," Amora said before Rogers could rope her into the same. "Terrible, terrible allergies." Then she sneezed, for good measure.

Rogers gave up, shouting to Hank Pym to replace Janet instead.

"You're such a liar," Loki said once Mr. Rogers was out of earshot.

Amora snorted, knocking knees with Loki. "Like you could talk."

They watched the game with disinterest for a few minutes. Loki pulled at his gym shorts, hating how thin and waifish he looked in his ill fitting uniform. Unlike a certain brunette. "Am I allowed to hate her?" Loki asked finally.

Amora pulled at the grass by her feet. "I don't see why not. I know I do." She watched Sif nearly get a goal in. "There's no way she's actually eighteen."

"Maybe she flunked like nine grades," Loki said. "I don't think a teenage girl's breasts should look like that."

With a laugh, Amora responded, "You're jealous of her boobs?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Loki sighed. "I enjoy not having those ridiculous things on my chest. How do you even see your feet with them there?"

"We stretch."

Loki burst into laughter. He placed his head on Amora's shoulder, his good mood tarnishing quickly as Sif's presence weighed down on him. "She's going with Tony," he said, deciding to confide in his friend. For once. "It kills me how perfect they are. It's like the gods chiseled them out of marble and set them loose in our school to torment me."

"Don't be dramatic."

Loki hated a lot of things. People, cheese, loud noises, people; that was only a small list. Public transportation was on the top ten with an addendum that included the school bus.

The bus driver smiled at him as he climbed those steps into the bus, offering his hand in a high five. Loki sneered at it, staring at the suddenly quiet heathens. They ogled him and Amora as they found a seat near the front of the bus.

As they sat, the noise started up again. "I hate the bus," Loki hissed, glaring at the two nerds that sat before him, jock straps on their heads. They lifted up plastic ray guns and shot them simultaneously at him and Amora, saying, "Direct hit," before snorting and turning round in their seats.

"Maybe your parents were just messing with you," Amora tried for the millionth time that day. "I bet there's a brand new car in your driveway right now with a big red bow plastered to the top of it."

Loki snorted in disbelief. "Don't count on it."

By the time Amora got off the bus, Loki was one hundred percent certain that today could not get any worse; his birthday forgotten, his sex note lost and no doubt in the hands of some pervert, and a vague memory etched into his brain of Sif's bouncing boobs that Tony Stark probably worshipped any and every chance he got.

At the back of the bus, Fandral – The Geek, to everyone else – rose from his seat and strutted down the aisle with a cocksure stride.

He sat behind Loki, leaning onto the seat before him, his elbow knocking into Loki's shoulder. "How's it going?" Fandral asked with what he thought was a charming grin.

Loki resisted the urge to bang his head against the window. "How's what going?" he replied, knowing he'd regret it but this day already sucked ass, may as well fill the quota.

Fandral took his response as an invitation, quickly sitting beside Loki, putting one arm behind the boy, the other arm dangling on the seat in front, trapping Loki with his body. "You know. Things… life… stuff like that."

"I don't see how any of that information pertains to you," Loki remarked uncomfortably. He was only a block away from his stop. If only the goddamn bus driver had taken the yellow.

The Geek seemed undisturbed by Loki's response, deciding instead to ask curiously, "So… you going to the dance tonight?"

"That is also none of your business," Loki gritted out through clenched teeth. Go bus driver. Go. That's when Loki felt more than saw the Geek sniff him. He was just sniffed. By some freshman. Loki quickly shot the boy a look of disbelief.

Clearing his throat, Fandral continued: "Do you have a thing against dancing in public?" If there was a god, he'd strike down this Geek. Now. "You don't have to dance. You can just hang out with me and my guys… being you."

Maybe if I don't respond. "So what's the story, you got a boyfriend or…?"

"Yes," Loki spat in an attempt to get rid of the Geek. "But you should be more concerned what I can do if you don't stop talking to me, Geek."

"Hostile!" Fandral exclaimed, faking a hurt tone. "I don't understand what's wrong. I'm a dude. You like dudes. What's the problem here? I'm just trying to –"

The bus stopped and Loki felt like simultaneously punching and hugging the bus driver. He shoved past Fandral and made it off the bus in record time.

Alone on the bus save for the chick with the unfortunate head gear, Fandral turned his attentions to her and said, "I think he likes me. You know, a guy with a vest is so – so vogue."

The girl lisped her agreement.

As Loki trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, he imagined setting the entire town on fire. There was no surprise birthday greetings from his parents. He didn't even know where they were. And that Geek had sniffed him.

Sniffed. Him.

Disgusting.

He opened his bedroom door and climbed up the dozen steps to his room, pausing midway when he heard talking. Loki peered over the bottom of the railing only to catch a glimpse of his grandparents, half dressed.

Loki would never get the image of Grandpa Borr in his boxer shorts and Grandma Bestla in a slip, out of his mind. Oh how it burned. He tried to head back down without being seen but damn that squeaky step.

Grandma Bestla turned round quickly and smiled brightly upon seeing her youngest grandson. "Loki!" she cried, grabbing a cardigan and slipping it on as if it made the entire situation fine. Loki put on his best social face and said, "Hi!" with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"Lucky duck," Grandpa Borr greeted, pulling Loki up the stairs and into a large embrace. Grandma Bestla smacked her husband's hands away from her grandson to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek. She smiled widely at him. "You're getting taller. Isn't he, Borr?"

"You're nearly as tall as Thor," Grandpa Borr agreed.

Loki offered him a strained smile. "Thank you for the reminder," he mumbled. Then, taking a few steps back from any more possible affection, Loki asked, "So you're staying here?"

The two grandparents nodded, much to Loki's dismay. He had really wanted to believe his grandparents had somehow gotten lost on the way to not his room. "Your Grandpa Njord grabbed the guest room before we had the chance. The rat," Grandpa Borr gruffed.

Loki nodded knowingly. "Well it's great to see you. Do I look any older today?" Not the smoothest transition, but they were old. No beating around the bush with these two.

Grandma Bestla tilted her head. "Not that I can see. But then again, you'll always be our little Lucky Ducky."

Loki smiled politely before running down the stairs and slamming the door behind him.

Even his grandparents forgot his birthday. His grandparents. Grandparents love birthdays. Loki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine.

Then from down the hall came the flush of a toilet and none other than Grandpa Njord stepped out of the bathroom, a newspaper in hand. "Lokinator!" he exclaimed upon seeing his grandson.

Oh dear god in heaven. "Grandpa," Loki smiled.

"Skadi," Grandpa Njord sang. "You'll never guess who's out here."

The door directly adjacent to Loki opened with a flourish and there stood Grandma Skadi in all of her glory. A true diva, if ever there was one. She smiled widely and kissed Loki on both cheeks. "Look at you," Grandma Skadi said. "He's a heartbreaker, this one is."

Grandpa Njord chuckled his agreement, poking Loki's sides. "I'm sure he has all the ladies swooning at his feet."

Loki offered another strained smile. He wanted to die.

"Stop that," Grandma Skadi scolded her husband. "You'll make him wet himself."

Loki's jaw dropped. Wet himself? He was not three. Wet yourself once as a toddler and suddenly you get a bad rep. He has had perfect control of his bladder for a very long time. Thank you very much. Baldur was the one they should be concerned with.

"He's not gonna wet himself," Grandpa Njord argued. "He's a strapping young man." He slapped Loki hard on the back causing the boy to stumble forward slightly. Grandma Skadi set him right back up.

"It's great to see you," Loki mumbled before turning round, hoping to find refuge in his brother's room. Though refuge wasn't close enough.

The only warning Loki had was his Grandmother saying, "Look at his butt. It's so perky!"

Loki slammed Baldur's bedroom door, leaning his whole body against it. He inhaled deeply.

I can't believe my grandmother just groped my butt.

He shuddered, letting out a shaky breath. If ever there was a worst day than this, Loki would just throw himself off a building.

Scoffing at the bunk bed his older brother still kept, Loki tossed himself onto the lower bunk, staring up at the wood panels of the other bed. "I've never felt so violated in all my life," he said, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Maybe he could force the memory from his mind.

There was a shuffling of sheets before a distinct accent broke through Loki's sulk. "What's happening hot stuff?"

Loki shot up in the bed, only to be greeted by a dark haired teen hanging upside down from the top bunk.

"His name is Kurt Wagner," Frigga tried to explain to Baldur who was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards in search of something – anything – to eat.

Baldur found the poptarts, smiling as he bit into the pastry. "I don't care what his name is," Baldur said, his mouth full of poptart. "He's weird."

Frigga snatched the box from her son's hands and put it back in the cupboard, shooing him out her way as she turned on the oven. "He is not weird." Baldur was not buying it. With a huff she added, "He's a foreign exchange student staying with Grandpa Borr and Grandma Bestla. He's a very sweet boy."

"He's a weirdo," Baldur insisted, taking a large bit of his poptart as he left to go watch television in the living room.

Just as Frigga thought she was going to be alone, Loki walked into the kitchen. "I'm not sure you're aware, but there's a weird German kid in Baldur's room," Loki informed his mother.

Frigga let out a sigh. In an attempt to change the subject, she asked, "Do you think you could help your grandmothers' with supper? Your brother, father and I are going to have dinner with the Fielding's."

"Fielding's?"

"You remember them," Frigga said. "Your father thinks Thor would be a perfect fit at their company."

Loki recalled something about them. It didn't concern him, so he had ignored his father's preachings. "Do you think that there might be any reason I should stay home tonight?" Loki asked, hopefully. He hadn't lost all hope. There was a chance it was all a misunderstanding. Or a very cruel joke. Either way. There was hope.

"I don't think so," Frigga started, "but I think it'd be nice for you to actively converse with your grandparents – and Kurt."

"Who?"

"The weird German kid in Baldur's room."

"I promised Amora I'd go to the school dance with her," Loki stated bitterly.

Frigga patted his shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. "That's alright, sweetie. Have fun." Then realization came over her face. She quickly turned round and said, "I completely forgot. Could you remember to take the casserole out of the oven in half an hour?"

Loki held back his ire. "I can remember lots of things."

Frigga smiled at him before disappearing. Loki stood at the counter, resisting the urge to grab a cleaver and going on a rampage. He'd definitely be in the right.

Thor was the only one in the household (aside from their parents, of course) who hadn't had their room invaded. So Loki decided to take refuge there.

He lay on Thor's bed, laptop on his belly while Thor tried his hand at Super Mario Bros and failing miserably.

"Jump."

"I am."

"No, don't – too late. You're terrible at this."

"Why don't you try, if you're such an expert?"

Loki laughed. "No thank you." He returned his attention to his computer, pretending to look busy.

Loki was tired of being angry. No one had remembered his birthday. It happens. Things like this happen. But it had never happened to him before. It was all Thor's fault and yet Loki couldn't even bring himself to blame Thor properly.

Of course, Thor, the brother who claimed to love Loki like no other, had also completely forgotten his birthday. He was occupied. His graduation was tomorrow. He was going to enter the real world. It's plausible and reasonable for Thor to forget.

Loki let out a loud sigh. Didn't make things suck less.

Thor paused his game to look at his brother. "What's wrong?"

Today's my birthday. I'm fucking sixteen years old. Everyone forgot because you're graduating tomorrow. "Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?"

He shrugged. "You look upset," Thor answered rather cryptically, if you asked Loki.

"I'm fine."

"You do not act 'fine'," Thor pressed.

Loki shut his computer. "I. Am. Fine," he enunciated in case there was any confusion. He sat up. "Have fun at your dinner," Loki said before storming out of the room.

Thor just blinked, confused.

Kurt had his head bowed, hands folded in prayer as the rest of the family watched in amusement. Loki ignored the boy completely, downing the milk his grandparents found amusing to put into crystal wine glasses.

"Amen," Kurt finished, lifting his head with a great big smile on his face as he shoved his piled fork of pasta, cheese, and peppers into his mouth. "Delicious," he said upon swallowing.

Granma Bestla patted him on the arm.

"So… exactly how did you get a foreign exchange student?" Baldur asked, mouth full and little cheese bits flying out of his mouth and back onto his plate. "And can we trade Loki in for some weird German kid?"

Loki stabbed a potato. A cheese meal and Baldur being a dumb ass. Happy birthday to me.

"It's quite easy," Grandpa Borr explained. "They have ads for it everywhere. You know, Loki, you and Kurt are just about the same age. I'm sure you two have loads in common." Grandpa better not be trying to set me up. I will kill him.

"How do you like America?" Grandma Skadi asked Kurt who had nearly cleared his plate.

He paused in his eating to think. "I love visiting with Grandma and Grandpa," he said, almost as if reading a cue card. "And writing emails to circus friends. And pushing the lawn eating machine so Grandpa's hyena don't get disturbed." He smiled brightly, taking another biteful of casserole.

"Hernia," Baldur corrected, nearly in tears. Kurt was the funniest thing Baldur had ever encountered.

Loki bit into a piece of toast. Let's all laugh at the foreign kid. Very funny.

Grandpa Borr smiled proudly at Kurt. "Oh, yes. Kurt washes the dishes and helps with laundry and just before we left he cleaned out the gutter."

Slave labor. Knew those two were insane. "Can I be excused?" Loki asked.

"Where are you going?" Grandma Skadi asked.

Anywhere but here. Loki glanced at the faces staring at him. He much preferred it when they were staring at the German. "I have a dance to go to," he answered. "At school. We're being graded on it – for gym. Don't wanna be late…"

It was the worst excuse he had ever come up with, if Baldur's snickering was anything to go by. But Loki was damned if they thought he was going to stay for the rest of this terribly awkward dinner party. Loki tried to make his way out of the dining room as quickly as possible.

"I've got a great idea," Grandma Bestla said, stopping Loki in his tracks. "Kurt," she said. "How would you like to go to the dance with Loki?"

Kurt beamed. Loki suddenly understood why some people become ax murderers.

Author's Note: Sixteen Candles. Woot woot. I hope you've all seen this movie. Or at least are now motivated to go watch it. Though... you should watch it after I finish writing it so the story isn't ruined. It's more or less the same story retold but in my defense... Sixteen Candles is perfect and is more perfect when replaced by Frostiron. I can't make it any more perfect. There will be more Tony in upcoming chapters. Promise.