A/N: Once again thank you to everyone who's commented on this story!

This chapter has probably been my favourite to write so far, so please do enjoy.


4) Family, I'd Like You To Meet My

Loki is taking his shirt off.

Howard has chosen the Per Se to have the family dinner at which is all the way in central New York and the car is absolutely ripping down the road because technically they are already running late.

And Loki is taking his shirt off.

"Whatthefuckareyoudoing?" Tony quickly scrambles to his side of the seat, staring as Loki tugs the green shirt over his head and suddenly all Tony can see is smooth pretty skin and long arms and pink nipples and a skinny waist and oh god

He covers his eyes with his hand.

"Changing," Loki answers easily. Well, Tony thinks sarcastically, at least he's not stripping for the fucking hell of it.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Loki scoffs, chucking his shirt down and grabbing the bag with his suit in it.

"We'll find a public bathroom to change in!"

"We don't have time. We're running late as it is, and we are not showing up at the restaurant in day old sweaty clothes. You should be getting changed too."

"I'm not sweaty," Tony mumbles. He peeks out from his fingers to catch Loki's annoyed stare. He's already started buttoning up his new cream shirt. He's impressively fast and Tony figures it's a skill all actors must have.

With a sigh he drops his hand and starts shrugging off his leather jacket. They must look like quite the pair— for once in Tony's life he and another person are passionately ripping off their clothes and it's completely in the name of business. He is very glad for the clouded glass between them and the driver.

"Ok, recap," Tony says, if only to distract himself from Loki starting to unlace his boots, "where did we first meet?"

"Lion King; we caught each other's eyes during the break and couldn't stop thinking about each other throughout the rest of the show until we finally reunited afterwards outside in the misty air, cheeks flushed from the exuberance of a brilliant show."

"Right."

Loki is bootless.

"What do you call me?" he asks in return, keeping the game up.

"Babe. Babylicious. Bodacious baby."

Loki sends him another look, although more playful and Tony is grateful for it. Tony is starting to recognize the small details in Loki's face—at first, he'd say it was all hard lines and cutting edges, but he notices the softened eyes and tiniest upturn of his lips. The small rose dusting on his cheeks.

"And what do you call me?" Tony pulls his (admittedly sweaty) shirt over his head and starts on unwrapping his new one from its confines.

"Oh, I'm the sensible one. Tony. Anthony. Stop staring at me."

Tony thinks he's making a joke at first, until he realizes Loki's shuffled his pants halfway down his briefs and that Tony's eyes are very much glued to them. He babbles an apology and quickly gets on with removing his shoes.

"Yeah, sounds great." He tugs them off and gets started on his pants.

"How do I like my drinks?"

"Spirits. Lemonade and gin. Sweet shit. But shit that'll fuck you up."

Loki gives an approved hum.

Two men, two pairs of pants off. Tony catches a few more glances as he bends over to pull out his new slacks from the shopping bag, because hey, he's a fan of skinsmanship, and he's entitled to at least one peek in this situation. Turns out Loki had the same idea because now they're both bent over in their seats, reaching for their bags, staring at each other.

"…Hi."

"Hi."

Tony looks down to a face-full of Loki's knee. "You're legs are really smooth."

Loki doesn't miss a beat before replying. "Thank you."

"No seriously, do you wax them?"

"Yes."

He wasn't being serious. But Loki definitely is.

"Oh."

And if that didn't change the mood.

But honestly, why is he even surprised? The guy asked to get his nails done. He's dated playboy models more masculine.

Loki holds Tony's gaze, daring him to disprove. Trying to lighten the mood, he gives Loki a sweeping look before nodding curtly. "Nice." He tries not to suddenly notice the shine on his arms, the absolute endless plains of silky skin, the lack of a snail trail creeping up past his briefs.

Loki exhales hotly through his nose, and resumes dressing. Tony smiles as they both grab their pants and quickly shimmy them on, one smoothly and the other with more of a struggle. To be fair, Loki has quite the lack of leg hair to stop the slide of fabric. Maybe that's how he's so fast.

The rest of the suit is put on without incident.

Tony smooths his grey jacket down, very proud indeed. Loki looks a bit more awkward (he told him to get it fitted), but dashing nevertheless. He beams at the pair of them. But when Loki stops fussing with his cuffs and looks at Tony, his shoulders drop and his face screws up.

"We have the same breast pocket?" he asks in dismay. Tony looks down to his butter cream sewed in napkin on his chest. He then looks to Loki's butter cream sewed napkin on his chest.

He pauses. "…yeah…" Loki continues to look unimpressed. "I thought it was cute!" he sputtered.

"It's weird and creepy! Take yours out!"

"I can't! it's sewed on."

Loki immediately shoots forward and starts to tug at Tony's pocket. When his efforts prove fruitless he growls in frustration. "Hey, come on, it's not that big of a deal—"

"I'm not leaving this car until you change it."

Of all the spoilt bratty unappreciative

"These were two thousand dollars each."

"We both know you don't give a shit what they cost, Stark, now take it off!"

That was true, but how rude.

"You know what?" He throws his arms up. "Fine. I'm gonna ruin this two thousand dollar suit for you, because that's just the loving, caring type of person you're dating. You are so fucking dumped and fired when this is over."

Loki seems pleased despite the threat when Tony gets to work tearing out the napkin. It takes a surprising amount of effort (nod to him for seeking out good craftsmanship), but finally with one determined tug the sound of snapping thread fills the backseat and the napkin comes off, leaving a horrible pattern of loose string behind. He glares at Loki. The little shit just beams as he takes the napkin and lazily discards it in one of the empty shopping bags.

The car slides into a private parking space in front of the Per Se at exactly 5:30.

A brown woman in a tuxedo opens the door for them and Tony and Loki climb out of the back seat. Tony quickly fixes his hair and glances angrily down at his ruined breast pocket. He'd tried to make it at least presentable, but he knows he'll get a few stares.

"Mr Stark, I presume?" the woman asks with a wide smile.

"Yep."

A camera flash goes off somewhere.

"Welcome to the Per Se," she greets with a small dip of her head.

He looks to Loki. He's still cross with him but he shoves it to the side. He'll only he associated with the kid for the next few hours and then he'll give him his money and they'll part ways. Loki looks how a person who's about to get treated to a night at one of the most expensive restaurants for free should look; practically splitting his face open with his grin. He elegantly slides up to Tony and hooks his arm through his.

Tony takes a big breath, looking back to the restaurant. This is it. This is where Howard doesn't smirk. This is where he survives for three hours and then walks out the victor. This is where the past two days finally pay off.

"Thank you," Loki says cheerfully to the lady, who smiles again and leads the way into the building.

The reception area is white marble, filled with glossy wooden columns that are far too numerous to truly be used for structural purposes. The lighting is low and warm and the plants are fake and exotic. As they walk into the dining area they're met with an explosion of creams and pine, all draped in thick white table cloths and plush carpet. Tony thinks if he reaches out to scrape the walls with his finger, it'll come off thick with frosting.

It's filled with bustling people, the roar of hundreds of different conversations filling the high ceiling. His family is here, and even if he can't spot them yet, he feels his gut twist.

His hands are sweating. He balls them into fists and they sweat more. He's too nervous; his heart reminds him so in hammering thuds. What if Loki forgets his lines? What if Howard catches onto them? What if he just sits down and bursts out laughing? He can't even look at Loki right now. Oh god, what if Howard knew what Tony had planned and hired Loki as a double agent and he's falling right into his trap

The woman leads them passed the main dining area and into a smaller, more private one. Here, the large tables are sectioned off with thick wall dividers. She takes them almost to the very end, where the biggest, most lavish one is, and there is his family.

There is his family.

He stops before they enter, driving Loki to the side quickly. The suited women realizes she's lost her baby ducklings and promptly turns around. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes, everything's fine, thank you, we've got it from here," he says all in a rush, forcing a smile. She returns a much more rehearsed one and walks off.

Loki squeezes Tony's arm, too tightly to be comforting. "What are you doing?" he grits out. He'd probably done a whole 'actors mantra' to get into character before Tony interrupted.

"I am freaking the fuck out, ok?"

"You're freaking out? This was your idea. This is what you've paid for. You've asked me for my services but I can't do them if you keep sweating all over me and losing your head."

He involuntary snatches his arm back and feverishly wipes his hands on his jacket. The air is getting heavier.

And then Loki takes his hands in his and steps in front of him to look him straight in the eyes. Tony stops fussing and stares back. "You are my boyfriend," Loki says calmly, squeezing his hands. "We've been dating for almost a year." He leans in close. "Now can we please go piss off your father?"

A puff of air leaves Tony's lungs. "Fuck yeah," he says clumsily. Loki perks right up, returning to his side.

They step forward and Tony looks at his family sitting at the table, dressed so impeccably that he subconsciously tugs his suit collar.

His father sits at the head of the table. His cold, gunmetal eyes are lined with greying eyebrows, pulling his face into a permanent scowl. More wrinkles are showing up every year, and his prized moustache glints silver in the golden light. He sits like a vulture perched on a branch, or perhaps a king on a throne looking down on some beggars. Either way, you knew some poor creature was about to die.

His beautiful mother sits to his left. Unlike Howard, her eyes still sparkle a honeyed brown, and her chocolate hair is bouncy and bright. She's cut it shorter since he's last seen it and it curls just by her cheeks. Her face bear lines as well, but Tony never noticed them.

His grandmother sits next to her, whilst his grandfather sits at the other end of the table. A couple-y pair, with his grandmother's blue hair clip matching his tie. They're draped in silks and expensive threads, and it somewhat distracts from their shockingly old age. A cane rests by his grandfather's leg.

They all glance up. Tony immediately gets a punch of adrenaline in his gut, a feeling he always gets when around Howard, an immediate response to pick a fight, to annoy, to rage. Instead, he laces an arm around Loki's waist and smiles pleasantly.

"Sorry we're late," he says.

"Tony!" Maria says, getting up and walking around the table. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a million years."

"We were worried you'd never show up," he hears his grandfather say.

Maria kisses his cheek and rubs his shoulder as the others begin to rise to greet him. His mother looks to Loki. "And who is this young gentleman?"

And suddenly Loki isn't the bratty, melodramatic, ambitious acting student that Tony's known for the past two days, but a shiny, straight-backed gentleman that's leaning forward to shake Maria's hand.

"I'm Loki. It's very nice to meet you."

Maria lets her hand be taken and doesn't reply. She's too busy laughing in that weird 'wink wink nudge nudge' Mom way and looking towards Tony with sparkling eyes. "British," she flusters.

Tony tries not to smirk.

Gaining more confidence as his brilliant plan takes fruition, he squeezes Loki closer and gives a rosy smile. "Mom, this is the partner I've been talking about."

Maria claps her hands together. "Oh! Oh, you two are just precious together."

Howard doesn't say anything. He doesn't seethe, exactly, but his lips definitely tighten.

"Are you are boy or a girl?" There's Tony's grandmother.

"Mom," Maria warns to the women behind her back. His grandmother bristles at the tone.

"Well, it's harder to tell these days," she says with a raise of her eyes and a shrug.

Loki isn't effected, only smiling pleasantly. "Boy," he answers, taking his offered seat. Maria moves back around the table to her own and Tony sits down next to Loki.

"Boy," Howard repeats. His tone gives away nothing, but those eyes sure do. He's eyeing Loki as if he's not real, a trick designed specifically for him to work out.

Loki looks back at Howard with the light airiness of someone who has no idea who they're dealing with.

Maria clears her throat awkwardly, a noise all too familiar to Tony's ears.

"You got a last name?" Howard continues, and just the way he says it makes Tony's jaw clench.

"Yes, Odinson."

A waiter comes by to fill Tony and Loki's glasses with champagne.

"Odinson?" Howard now looks very amused. "Ah, yes, Loki, the one who was dropped from the family name not too long ago."

If he's going to count that as a defeat, he's sorely mistaken.

"Yes," Loki nods, keeping his tone level, "almost a year now." Howard looks even more amused, lifting his wine glass to his lips.

"Tony, what on earth happened to your face?" Tony looks up when Maria speaks and his hand flies up to his busted jaw. Soon he has the attention of the entire table.

"Oh, right, yeah, I just—" he starts gesturing aimlessly, trying to grab any story his useless brain can come up with. "I just, you know—"

"We got drunk and I slapped him."

However many ground levels this ridiculous restaurant has, Tony's jaw is hitting the floor of it. He gapes at Loki. The treacherous little bastard is smiling at him, as if he has just told a particularly humorous joke. What are you doing? What are you doing?

But the short hell only lasts a few seconds, because suddenly his grandparents are chuckling fondly.

"Mmm," his grandfather's voice is all croaky and horrible, "you have to watch out for this one—whenever liquor is involved, it's all grabby with him."

"Grandad," Tony almost whines. His grandfather shrugs and looks anything but apologetic.

"I'm just relaying what I've seen from all that television footage. Someone's got to keep track of the family honour." His small laugh sounds like a choke. Tony hopes it is.

"You know," his grandmother butts in, placing her hands on the table as if she's about to make a gratifying point, "I just think that boys should keep their hair short, and girls should keep their hair long. No, not like yours, Maria, I'm talking about the ones that walk around looking like boys. Really short, and I think, if you want to look like a boy, then go all the way, stop making us all confused. I'm sorry, but you're just going to look like a lesbian. Don't get angry if you get called a lesbian if you you're a girl and want to look like a boy. And then they wear flannel! Honestly, what impression are you trying to make? You know what? I think it's Natalie Portman. When she cut her hair short, ugh, well," she ends with a little fail, and then withdrawals from the table again.

"Loki, what do you do?" Maria asks.

Loki takes a little while to divert his eyes from the old women after her speech. "Uh—oh, I have an internship I'm going to complete next year in LA."

"How exciting," she answers with a stretched smile. Tony wonders if Loki, or anyone else for that matter, knows that his mother plays mind games almost as well as Howard. She just can't afford to execute them as noticeably as him. But everyone at this table is trying to pick a part Loki with stares and words, and Tony quickly checks his watch just to remind himself how long a couple hours really is.

"What are you studying?" Howard asks.

"Acting."

"Acting?"

"Yes."

"How interesting. I can't imagine being involved with an actor. If they're any good you wouldn't know what to trust." He smiles down the table and is met with a polite chuckle.

"That's why you don't date them, dear, just have affairs with them," Maria says with a tight-lipped smile, tugging her hair behind her ear. "So, Loki, tell us about yourself."

"Well, I—"

"Loki likes the beach. And theatre." Loki looks at Tony when he interrupts, face unreadable. Tony clears his throat. "He owns Japanese Koi fish."

"Really?" Maria seems fascinated.

When Tony looks at Loki, he can suddenly read his face, and it says 'stop trying so fucking hard'. He swallows.

"Koi?" His grandmother pronounces the word like it's a battle to get out. "What's Koi?"

"A common type of Japanese carp," Loki answers. His grandmother doesn't look impressed, but then again, not much emotion can get passed those folds and creases these days.

"Are they big?"

"Quite."

"Where do you keep them?"

"In a tank, I would presume," Howard murmurs. Loki picks up his champagne glass.

"Enough, I want to hear more. Where did you two meet? I've heard so little about everything." Maria takes the reins again.

"Well," Tony starts. An easy question. He knows this story off by heart. There is no way he could mess this up. "I went to see The Lion King on Broadway and saw Loki in the crowd."

He looks towards his pretend boyfriend, trying to find his eyes, trying to be romantic, but what he sees isn't wistful reminiscence, it's confusion.

"No you didn't," Loki says, shaking his head, and Tony's heart stops beating for a few seconds, because…what?

"Uhhh…yes I did. That's where we first met."

Loki shakes his head again and it's the most fucking infuriating gesture because what the absolute hell is he talking about? Isn't this what he wanted? Isn't this the scenario he fought for?

"No, that's not the very first time we met." Tony stares. Everyone at the table looks delightfully entertained. "The first time we met, was in a Starbucks."

"Ah," his mom laughs, "I can believe that."

"Yes, you came in," Loki suddenly gets a wiry smile as he continues, like a mother recounting a scandalous story of one of her children, "and looked up at me, and asked me to be your boyfriend there and then."

There was laughter then, quickly over, but big and hearty. Howard's face even twitched.

"I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life," Loki laughs. Tony blushes then, though it may be his face finally cooling down from being so hot these past few minutes. Loki looks at him lovingly, like a boyfriend of exactly one year would look at their partner, and Tony immediately realizes that Loki knows exactly what he's doing. Of course two people's meeting wouldn't be that fucking fairy-tale like. Of course one of them would mess it up and forget, because that's what normal couples do. And instead of debriefing Tony, he simply lets it happen because there is no possible way Tony could've faked that reaction. He just simply didn't have the actors gene and Loki knew it.

He makes a note to tell Loki afterwards that he was not fucking good at improv.

"Aww, darling," Loki coos, placing his glass down and stroking Tony's shoulder, "have I embarrassed you?"

Maria laughs again because Tony is still in awe and flustered and at a complete loss of what to say. Another believable reaction.

In the end he finally plays cutesy, giving Loki a playful enough look and then reaching out to hold his hand. Maria clasps her hands together.

"You two are very cute. And how spoiled! Tony's mentioned quite the number of dates."

"Yes, and all when we've wanted to come visit him." Howard says it like he's not instigating a thing, just making a random observation.

"Yes," Loki says, face lighting up. "We have been to many Broadway shows together." Loki squeezes Tony's hand.

"Broadway, hm?" Howard muses and Tony knows exactly what that face means:

Not letting the gay rub off on you, now son?

"Mm!" Loki nods. "I'm trying to introduce him to my culture," he chuckles self-consciously. "We also went to New Jersey together for a weekend."

"Oh, ugh, I hate New Jersey," Tony's grandmother starts up again. "You know what it is? It's the smell. Smells terrible. Me and John went down once and well, I couldn't leave the hotel because of it. Horrible. Bad weather, too. Yuck."

"No, it was beautiful when we were there," Loki smiles, ignoring her. He looks down to the table, as if he is recalling his most sacred memory.

"Did you go during the summer?" Maria asks.

"Yes, It was warm and we were by the beach. I was so stressed with school and Tony surprised me. It was so lovely…"

And now Tony's eyes are widening because Loki's are tearing up.

And dammit, it was romantic.

"I'm sorry," Loki says, delicately dabbing at the corner of his eyes like the fucking prima donna he was. His mother looks on the verge of swooning. "It was just a very nice weekend for me."

"Oh see, now that's nice," Tony's grandmother says, looking to her husband. "John, we should go away more, that would be nice." His grandfather takes so long to acknowledge her words that Tony thinks he'd simply keened over and died. It's almost disappointment he feels when the old man suddenly jolts and nods.

Not much is asked after that. Howard's face has returned to sceptical but not sinister, and Tony thinks one of the harder parts of the evening is over.

The food comes out shortly afterwards. Howard makes a small comment about having to order for the two because of how late they were, and Tony returns the comment with his own fuck you by commenting how many glasses of wine Howard had gone through. And that's as far as the personal communication went between the two of them.

The dinner is fancy and delicious—bowels of salad decorated with gold leaf, large red steaks cut into elegant portions and exotic types of fish. Tony never got into the ultra-expensive dining his family enjoys so much. He likes his pizza cheap and greasy.

The conversation continues politely enough; the adults do most of the talking about business and how the new generation is ruining everything. Tony makes sure to make eye contact with Loki from time to time and orders his favourite drinks. He calls him babe. He plays a little footsie. The night is going far better than he expected.

It's only when their plates are being taken away does his mother return he topic of conversation to their relationship.

"Well," she says, smiling and wiping her mouth with a silken napkin, "a year. Quite the mile stone. Are you two thinking of taking things further?"

"Uh, not really," Tony says, and Loki jabs his heel into his shin. "I mean, yeah, we've thought about it. But we just want to enjoy each other's company for now."

His mom looks disappointed.

"Well, you aren't getting any younger," Howard says. Tony's face strains and he feels his blood grow hot.

"I'm twenty five. I think time is on my side."

"Your mother and I would like to see you get married, eventually."

"Well you'll just have to wait a little longer, won't you?"

"Anthony," his mother warns. He ignores her. The comment wasn't made for her.

"The family line has to be continued," his grandfather nods.

"Yes," Howard muses, "though with…your type of relationship…children would be a bit harder to come by, wouldn't they?"

Tony's blood starts to boil.

"Our type of relationship?" Loki asks, and for the first time that night his tone is anything but friendly. Howard shrugs innocently.

"It's just an observation—"

"Please excuse me," Tony says, suddenly standing, making his chair screech horribly on the wooden floor. Everyone watches as he quickly walks out the room, tugging his collar to get some air, in silence.

Loki was doing perfectly well until Tony fucked it up.

The Starks are intimidating, that much is obvious. Is Loki nervous? Of course he is. Does he find these people rude and ignorant beyond belief? To almost his breaking point. Is he going to let that get in the way of doing his fucking job?

No.

Because he's a professional. And now Tony's gone and gotten emotional and left him to the sharks.

Loki looks up to one of the most powerful families in America and is very much reminded of that particular sea predator.

Maria sighs quietly at Tony's departure and looks to Loki. Everyone looks to Loki, actually. His throat constricts. "He's done quite a good job in keeping you a secret," she says, face lifting into her usual smile. Loki returns one the best he can. "We haven't seen you two at all in any media. You must know a few people in the entertainment industry to escape the paparazzi so well."

"We simply don't like to draw attention to ourselves."

"Anthony? Not wanting to draw attention to himself?" Howard scoffs.

"But you two have been to Broadway multiple times?" Maria presses, and suddenly Loki realizes that she's never believed their story from the start. For sure, she doesn't think Tony's fabricated as much as everything, but the dubiousness is still there.

Loki's not too sure how to answer. Maybe he hasn't got this in the bag after all.

"Perhaps Tony takes care of the pictures, I wouldn't know, we don't really talk about it that much." He hopes that will do for now and picks up his martini, eagerly sipping.

"Tony doesn't tell you?" Maria's brow dips in confusion. "You two don't ever talk about things like that? It's never been a problem?"

"Is there a problem?" he asks, not sounding too affronted and definitely not cornered (that would give the wrong impression), but in a tone of general inquiry and a hint of worry. Yes, turn the tables on her, so she feels stupid for even thinking of interrogating him.

Maria goes a bit tense and backs off. "No, I apologise, there's nothing wrong. I'm just so interested in the two of you. Not even hearing about you, seeing a simple picture of you for so long and now you suddenly being here—I've had trouble believing you were real before."

And still having trouble believing, he knows she almost adds.

"Just…what has Tony said about us?"

"Maria," Howard says lowly to her.

"Has he mentioned us before? What sort of things does he say?"

Ah, now Loki sees. Whilst Howard delights in the thought of Tony acting so petty and pathetic as to hire a pretend boyfriend, Maria absolutely fears it. She's the backbone of this crumbling family and the idea that her son would go to such lengths just to avoid her would be heart breaking.

So Loki indulges her.

"He mentions you quite a lot," he lies, shoulders losing the rigidness from before. "He speaks very fondly of you." Despite his best intentions, Maria doesn't look satisfied.

"Yes, but has he said anything bad? Like why he didn't want you to meet us for so long?"

"Maria, please, be civil," Howard says coldly.

"Well—" Loki's mind races, he knows he shouldn't say anything without Stark here lest they mix up their story—"Stark really doesn't like to flaunt his status at me most of the time."

"Stark? You call Tony 'Stark'?"

Loki's mouth snaps shut because how on earth could I have fucked that up oh god oh god.

Waiters come out with desert.

"Y-yes, sometimes, it's a long story—"

"That's quite strange," Stark's grandmother says, if only just to inject her opinion in there.

"Do you always call him that?"

"No, I mean, sometimes—" He's slipping up like an amateur and he doesn't think he's ever been so relieved to see Stark when he slides back into the room, looking much more cooled down and much, much more tipsy.

"Sorry, emergency," he says cooly, cheeks flushed. He sits down and flashes a grin at Loki before looking down to the freshly served desert. "Oh, desert, awesome. I wonder what kind of ice-cream this would have to be to get into a place like this. Do they grow the cows themselves in penthouse apartments? Feed them only chemically perfect grass? The thought ponders."

"It's goats milk ice-cream," Maria says, and Loki doubts Tony notices the way she's looking at him, teary eyed. She's about to explode and this dinner table is the last place Loki wants to be when she does.

"Ah," Tony nods and points his spoon in her direction. "That explains it." Tony begins eating. No-one else does.

"Anthony."

Oh dear god.

Stark looks up. "Mm?"

"Tell me the truth, just tell me the truth."

Howard's not trying interrupt her anymore. No, he's smirking, and when Loki sees it he immediately sees why Tony started them on this crazy crusade.

Tony looks confused. "What? What truth?"

"Just…why don't you like to see your family? Why don't you spend more time with us? You have this ridiculous boyfriend and—"

Well, that was insulting.

"Whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't you swear at your mother young man."

Tony swings his head around at Howard and by the look of his glare Loki wouldn't be surprised if he spat at the man. Loki takes another sip from his drink.

"I'm simply trying to understand what's going on. Mom. What's going on? What are you saying?"

"I'm asking you why you never see us anymore!" Poor Maria looks almost in tears.

Loki grips Tony's knee under the table, trying to tell him to calm down and not feed the fire, but no, Tony is stupid and keeps talking.

"Maybe I didn't want to bring Loki around because I knew how this one would react!" He juts a thumb towards Howard. His father glowers, shoulders growing broader and if Tony were three years old, he surely would be getting a beating. Loki squeezes his knee harder simply out of fear.

"So many excuses, Anthony!" Maria says. Tony's grandparents are silent. His grandfather looks like he's gone to sleep and his grandmother is trying to look as disinterested as she can whilst she slurps her ice-cream.

"What excuses?" At least Tony has the good mind to lower his voice somewhat.

Maria seems to be at the end of her temper. "What Broadway shows did you see on your dates?" It's a rather innocent question by itself.

"I don't know, mom! Hairspray."

"Lower your voice," Howard scolds, though he's wearing his smirk again, and when Tony catches a glimpse of it, his skin grows three shades redder. Stark is going to lose it.

"You want the truth?" Stark says suddenly, loud enough to address the entire table, not taking his eyes off Howard. Loki's blood freezes. Stark stands then, a glass of champagne in his hand. "You want the truth?"

What are you doing you stupid man? Loki can't even look at him. This is going to be awkward. He takes a large sip in preparation. An almost comical amount of time passes before Stark finally speaks.

"Loki and I are engaged."

And then Loki gags and sprays his martini all over the table, absolutely ruining his truffle ice-cream.


A/N: hey look a plot