Mind you, this is quite a sad story. Their High School days aren't that angsty pre-relationship, but otherwise get ready to be hit straight in the feels.
This story is heavily inspired by the song For Blue Skies by Strays Don't Sleep. Listen to it while reading, because I listened to it while writing.
My feet crunched dully over the orange and red leaves scattered along the path. It was cold, late autumn almost edging into winter. It seemed that any day now it would snow, but the weather always hesitated and would only leave a light frost on the grass each morning.
The cemetery was always empty whenever I visited, and every morning there would be frost on the headstone.
I absently kicked a pebble and continued moving. This was what I hated most about the visits, the walk there. I always got anxious.
I stopped right in front of the headstone, and I could already feel the tears forming at my eyes.
"It's been a long year, hasn't it?"
One and a half years earlier…
"Steve! Steve where the hell are you going?"
I paused at my locker to see Tony Stark come bounding up, backpack thrown hastily over his shoulder by one strap and hair a little disheveled. This was new. The Tony Stark looked like he had just rolled out of bed and ran all the way to school. He was wearing aviators, and even through the lenses I could tell he had a sulky expression on his face.
"I thought you were going to hang out with me and Thor after school, moron."
I merely shrugged. "I have things to do."
Tony pulled his sunglasses down over the bridge of his nose, revealing tired bloodshot eyes. "Things to do? Clint told me earlier that you had already bailed, and I didn't believe him. So, what? Are you going to go study with Banner or something? There aren't any Biology quizzes that I know of—"
"Tony, you never listen in class. How would you know?"
He shrugged. "I ask Banner, that's how. So what are these 'things' you're doing after school that's so important you can't hang out with us?"
"Nothing," I muttered, shutting my locker and piling a few books into my backpack. "I don't have to tell you."
"What?" Tony started laughing and sprinted after me as I left down the hall. "Did you get a date or something? That's the only thing I can think of that would make you bail."
"Tony, do you always have to be so invasive?"
"Yes! You're like my best friend!"
"I thought Pepper was your best friend."
Tony paused for a second. "She's a love interest, Steve. Or something…But seriously, did you get a date? With Peggy? If it's with Peggy I swear—"
"Stop calling her a cheap whore!" I said a little too loudly, and a few people stopped to glance at us. I ignored it. "And no, it's not Peggy."
"So you did get a date! HA! I told you I'd find out."
I groaned, arriving at my History class. "Tony, just stop asking questions and maybe I'll tell you at lunch."
"What? No, you won't tell me. I have to interrogate you." He put his sunglasses back on. "I'm the Tony Stark after all."
"Have a nice day Tony!" I called after him as I entered the classroom. A few people glanced at me, but I just decided to take my seat beside Bruce in the back of the classroom.
"Is he really bothering you that much?" Bruce asked as he doodled scientific equations in his notebook along with scribbly little drawings of superheroes.
"No," I muttered. "He just won't stop asking who I'm hanging out with tonight."
"You have a date?" Bruce looked up, quirking and eyebrow. "Is it with Peggy?"
I hit my head on the desk. "Why does everyone think its Peggy?"
"Because you've been drooling over her since, what, third grade?"
"No!" I knocked him in the arm. "You just always assumed that. I make friends with girls better than all of you. It didn't mean I liked her."
"With the exception of Tony," the scientist declared. "He's a freaking playboy."
"I make friends with them, not date them."
"So you're gay?"
I hit him again.
"I'm guessing that's a yes," he turned back to his notebook. "Who is it?"
I didn't answer.
"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad. I don't care if you date guys."
I said it so quietly I don't even think Bruce caught it.
"What?"
"Thor's going to kill me though." I said a little bit louder.
Bruce's eyes went wide. "You're kidding me. That kid's a delinquent. He's got serious problems Steve—"
"Well technically it's not an actual date!" I said, and I realized I'd said it a little bit too loud as a few heads turned out direction. I lowered my voice. "He asked me if I could help him with his English homework, and I said yes."
"You stupid, helpful, kind, bastard." Bruce said with a smile. "I know I totally sound like a girl now, but where are you going?"
"He's coming over to my house."
Bruce nodded. "So that's why you bailed on hanging out with the crew today."
"Who told you?"
"Clint."
I dropped my head on the desk again.
"Heads up, no sleeping in class Mr. Rogers."
I lifted my head to find Mr. Coulson sitting on the edge of his desk, eyes looking straight at me.
"Sorry," I muttered, and continued to open my textbook open to page 324.
Lunch was a bit chaotic.
"Oh, come on, you've got to tell us," Natasha whined. "Don't listen to Tony, I promise I won't tell if you tell me."
"Is it Peggy?" Clint asked as he seated himself across the table from me.
I was going to get a bruise on my forehead if I kept dropping my head on tables.
"I guess that's a no," the archer muttered. "But, sorry to break it to you Tony, but I can't come over after school either."
"What?" the playboy exclaimed, ripping his sunglasses off his face. "What's so damn important?"
"Archery practice," he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Plus, I don't really feel like it. Last time I got a pitcher of lemonade dumped on my head because you pissed Pepper off."
"Clint, that wasn't my fault—"
At that point the argument had started to escalate and Natasha started to take sides. I pretended not to notice and just left my head on the table. By the time Clint started cussing (quite colorfully) a teacher had to come over and try and break them up. Bruce looked like he was ready to just up and walk away, and Natasha was giving Tony the evil eye.
They still kept shouting at each other, and soon they were escorted out of the lunchroom still mocking one another.
"Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you people," I said, pushing my tray away from me. I didn't feel very hungry anymore, and the sight of the pizza was quite unappetizing.
"Are you going to tell us who you're hanging out with?" Natasha asked quietly. "I'm sure you'll want to before Thor shows up. Wait a second— where is Thor?"
Bruce looked up from his doodled in notebook. "Not sure. Maybe he's sitting with his brother."
I swallowed back the lump in my throat, and Bruce and I exchanged a glance as Natasha looked in the other direction of the cafeteria, searching for Loki's table. Her red curls bobbed about as she finally decided to slip out of her seat and go search them out on her own. She muttered something about being back soon.
"It's not a freaking date, Bruce." I cut him off before he could ask the question.
"Actually," he said. "I was going to ask if you were going to eat that piece of pizza."
"Oh, no. You can have it."
I looked back in the opposite side of the cafeteria, finally spotting Natasha's head of red hair standing beside one of the tables. She was speaking with Loki, who just seemed to be ignoring her, one headphone in and a notebook in hand. Thor was nowhere to be found. Natasha shifted on her feet— a bad habit —and finally just deserted her quest and came back to the table.
"Apparently Thor went home sick this morning, puking his guts out." The redhead glanced at me. "And he also has a study date after school with you on his English homework."
I could feel my face turning red, and I nearly jumped out of my seat as Natasha hugged me.
Was she sick too?
"Why are you hugging me?" I finally asked.
"I don't know," she muttered. "I'm not sure if I should be happy with you or not. Loki has some problems."
"Why are you all acting like this is the start of a new relationship or something?" I snapped. "I'm helping him with his homework."
Bruce and Natasha's eyes suddenly went sympathetic, as if I didn't know something they did. They were quiet for a long time, and Natasha just picked at her salad until the bell rang and I left for my next class.
English.
I couldn't get the looks on their faces out of my head. It was like they knew something I didn't. What was it about the study date Loki and I had that had them so crazy nervous and freaked out? Yes, Loki had some problems. Only recently had he found out that he'd actually been adopted and that Thor wasn't his real blood brother. He was a compulsive liar, and he liked practical jokes a lot. But that didn't make him a bad, terrible person. Everyone was just overreacting.
English was slow, and I don't think I had ever been happier when I got out of that class. Tony was waiting by my locker, figures.
"So, what happened with you and Clint?"
"They sent us to the counselor so we could 'talk it out'. Clint did most of the talking, and when he was done I upped and left. I got a tardy for being late to Calculus, but what do I care? That class is lame."
I shut my locker. "Did Natasha tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"Who I have a study date with after school."
He shrugged. "No. And I quit. You're not going to tell me, so I might as well not waste the energy."
"Everyone's having a big freak out, like I'm dating him or something."
"Oh really? So it's a guy?"
"Shit." He slapped myself on the forehead. I really had no way with words.
"Sure as hell sounds like a date from the way you're blushing."
I shoved past him. "You people are impossible."
"From the looks of it, you're overreacting as well. Do you have a secret little crush none of us knew about?"
"Just stop it," I growled, turning to face him. Alarm crossed Tony's features. "Stop it. Just quite acting like you don't care. No wonder Clint started fighting with you. Half the time you don't even a heart, Tony."
"What?" he sprinted after me as I walked away. "Who gave you a dose of estrogen? I'm quite thoroughly confused as to what you're getting at Steve."
"If I did happen to like someone that way Tony, all you would do is comment about how you could've gotten someone better."
"Steve, stop speaking in code. What are you trying to say?"
"I don't know!" I threw my hands up in the air. "I don't care anymore. I'm just pissed that I'm always assumed as the blushing virgin who'll never get anybody. If you like someone Tony, it's fine. But I'm some freak. Everyone has to protect me."
"Steve, you're worse than Pepper. Calm down."
I swept into my last class, ignoring his words.
I pulled my headphones out, staring at the blinking cellphone that said "Incoming call from: Tony Stark".
I shoved it into the nightstand drawer and put my headphones back in, adding a few details to the drawing I was doing. I knew he would keep calling and leaving voicemails until I answered. He was persistent and stubborn that way. I hadn't talked to him since I'd snapped, and honestly I didn't want to talk to him for a while. Tony Stark was only good in small doses.
We'd fought over this sort of thing before though. Everyone in the group treated me like some sort of cripple or handicap when it came to dating. And I wasn't dating Loki. They always assumed stupid shit like that, just because I wasn't a playboy and didn't date all the time like Tony did. We were just different that way.
The doorbell rang, and it was almost a miracle I could even hear it over my headphones. I pulled them out, waiting to hear it again just in case I'd mistaken the noise for something in the music. It came again, and I went downstairs to answer the door.
Standing there with his backpack slung over his shoulder with an odd agitated look on his face was Loki.
Amidst my drawing and pouting over the argument with Tony, I'd completely forgotten about him.
"You look surprised," he said dully. "Were you not expecting me?"
"Oh— uh. Well, you see—"
"You forgot, didn't you?" Loki sighed. "I can leave if you're busy or something—"
"No! I'm not busy. I just…it slipped my mind." I opened the door wider. "Come in."
I led him into the kitchen, asking if he wanted anything, and he just shook his head. Loki took a seat at the island, pulling out a few books and a pencil.
"Are your parents home?"
I internally jolted a bit. What an odd question to ask. "No. Why?"
"Well, there was a car in the driveway so I just wasn't sure."
"That's my truck." I said, opening the cupboard for a cup. I turned on the sink and filled it with water, taking a nice swig out of it.
"It looks old."
"It's got character," I said jokingly, the usual response whenever Tony complained about it and told me to ask my parents to buy me a convertible or something. "I've got a motorcycle too."
Loki hummed something under his breath. "Can we get started?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll go get my book."
As I was walking out of the kitchen, Loki grabbed me by my elbow. "You don't have to, we can share mine."
I paused. "Alright."
I seated myself beside him at the island, looking over his book, as he explained what he wasn't getting about it. He said he wasn't really one for English, he preferred straightforward things, like Math and Calculus. I, on the other hand loved words, and Shakespeare, and reading of all sorts. No wonder he had come to me for help, I had the highest grade in our class.
I caught myself staring at his eyes, and mentally slapped myself for being so rude. Loki hadn't seemed to notice, but for a second it looked he was smirking, about what I didn't know.
"You find my eyes quite fascinating, don't you, Steve?"
"Wh-what?" I stuttered. "No. What are you talking about?"
"You've been staring at me, while I stare at the book. Do you really think I'm that stupid?"
"You're being ridiculous," I stood up and went over to the sink, refilling my cup. "I'm not staring at you."
"Quit denying it," he jabbed playfully. "Your eyes are quite nice as well."
I dropped the cup.
I don't really know how I did it. I mean it didn't slip out of my grip or anything. It just dropped it. It was a plastic cup, so the water just spilled out and into a puddle on the tile floor.
"Clumsy, are we?"
I frowned, and picked up the cup. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped up the water before throwing them out. Loki just sat at the island and watched me with a smirk on his face, as if he knew he'd been the one who'd caused it.
"Are we done?" Loki asked, tapping his pencil on the textbook.
"Do you get it?"
Loki smirked. "I don't know. My bro—" he cut himself off. "Thor doesn't get any of it, so he isn't much help. You were by far way more helpful. So…I guess I do get it."
I leaned back against the sink as he started packing up his things. "Are you okay these days?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" his voice was as hard and as sharp as metal.
"With the whole thing between you and your brother. I don't know I was just wondering—"
"It's none of your business. You hardly know me, Steve."
"But I just—"
"You're not my counselor." Loki stood up and gathered his belongings. "See you."
And he left.
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