A/N: This took too long and I am gomenasaii.


7) Pink

Loki bursts into his apartment in a whirlwind, chucking his keys onto the kitchen counter and coming to a stop in the middle of the lounge room. He tugs on his collar, neck hot. Stark follows in a much chipper fashion, skipping through the door and whacking it closed behind him. He slams his blazer on the counter and makes a grand gesture, arms spread like wings.

"Fucking Vegas baby! This is awesome."

"Stark—" Loki feels his throat close up.

"We'll do our little show for the engagement fiasco, then go to Las Vegas to party. Your brother is such a cool dude, babe."

"Stark I can't—"

"Holy shit, we have like two days to plan this thing. Alright, we gotta have a pitch for the fight, which you can do, you can handle the whole dramatics for the thing because that's kinda your area—"

Like the lid of a teapot being shot off, Loki explodes. "Can you shut up about the fucking con for one second?!"

Stark's mouth snaps shut. When Loki doesn't hear a response he storms passed and into Darcy's bedroom and slams the door behind him. The lights are all off accept a tiny slit of sunlight cutting out from under the window blind, and in the dimness he can see Darcy's lumpy body underneath the purple comforter. With a last huff, he flops down next to her, sprawled out like a petulant cat.

Darcy uncurls out from under her warm burrow, poking her head out. "Ay dude wussup." Her voice is thick with sleep. When Loki does nothing but whine into the mattress she reaches out to curl a finger around a strand of black hair. "Mr Grumpy."

"I can't do it anymore, Darcy."

Darcy hums her sympathy. "I remember when I was in a weird relationship. As soon as he brought out the whips it was like 'hey! I'm not doing this!'…..I'm kidding. I mean, there were whips, but I was totally fine with it." Loki appreciates her attempt at cheering him up, but is in too sour a mood to show it. Soon Darcy gets up on her elbows. "Hey. You need anything? You want me to scare the mean billionaire off?"

"No, don't bother." Loki squints up at her from behind his hair. "Darcy…we're friends, yes?"

Darcy scoffs and quirks a brow. "Er, try a little over the line of friendship there buddy. I'd totally blow you if you asked nicely." Loki keeps staring up at her until her smirk softens into a smile. "Sure we are," she says. "Of course we are."

Loki is too exhausted to contain his grin. His chest warms and swells. "Nice. You're invited to my engagement party."

"Awww!" Darcy falls back onto her pillows, her big apple cheeks blushing. "Thanks man! I haven't been to a fancy shindig in forever."

"Mmm," Loki smiles. He rolls into her side. "Now cuddle me. I want to spoon."

"You know I love a good little spoon." Darcy tugs a thin blanket over him and then wraps an arm across his chest, hugging him tightly. A few seconds of silence passes before Darcy jolts. "Wait, you guys are getting married?"

Loki wakes up with his mouth clammy and head sore. He blinks a couple times then rubs his face over with a groan. He carefully slips out of Darcy's grip and climbs off the bed. Stretching the kinks out of his back, he walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, squinting in the dim light, and picks up his phone from the counter.

6:55PM. Two messages.

'Hello sweetheart.
I thought we could have that talk. Please come to my hotel around 6-7.
Xxxx Mum.'

The next message holds the hotel address. Loki bites his lip and looks around the longue room. Stark is asleep on the couch, limbs everywhere and drool leaking out of his mouth. Loki thinks he's earned a trip in the town car by himself, so he calls it in and heads out to Frigga's hotel, eyes glazing as the shining city lights blur passed the car window.

He gets to the glittering hotel and makes his way to Frigga's suite. When he's allowed in he's met with a lavish sitting room, decorated with old styled furniture of rich browns and golds. Frigga, dressed in a loose beige clothes, sits in a cushioned armchair. Loki sits in the one opposite, gently cradling the glass of water he'd been given.

Frigga studies him awhile. Her eyes narrow and her brows pinch. "Have you been eating?"

He absolutely hates these questions. They make him feel so like a child. "Yes." When she doesn't reply, he repeats, "Yes."

She eases off, but her lips are still tight. "You look thinner."

Loki forces himself not to feel a stupid surge of satisfaction, because honestly, he probably hasn't lost any weight and the comment is simply an commonly overused, motherly thought of her independent son starving without her nurture.

"So," Frigga starts when the silence becomes too long, "you're getting married."

Loki is so so tired, but manages an excited enough grin. "Yes," he says.

Frigga exhales hotly through her nose. "Loki, what situation are you in?"

Loki frowns. "I don't understand." A pause. "Tony and I love each other. That's why we're getting married."

"How long have you known each other?"

"Almost a year."

Eyebrows shoot up. "What are his hobbies?"

"Drinking himself to death, currently," Loki mutters. He scales his mother, back straightening. "Why so many questions? Do you think I'm lying?"

Frigga tries to look unassuming. "I'm simply interested in my sons choices."

"You don't think Tony is a good choice?"

"Well, he does have a lot of money—"

"Oh, so that's it. You just think I've manipulated my way into the lap of luxury through whoring around."

"Loki, that's not—"

"Because that's all I do, after all. I don't bother with stupid things like effort, hard work and talent, god forbid, when I can just scheme my way to where I want to be."

"You be silent right now, young man," Frigga snaps. Loki closes his mouth. "I don't think you're lying to me, Loki, I'm just showing concern. A motherly concern for my son about to make a very big decision. I don't think you've tricked anybody into marrying you for money—why would you? You've made it very clear in your time with us that you don't care for it." She takes a deep breath. "It's true, I'm not fond of the Starks. But I think Anthony is a nice enough man. And if this is the decision you've made then I'll support you. I think I've made that clear enough."

Loki nods softly. "Right," Frigga nods back. "We've got that clear. Now…do you want to talk about last Christmas?"

"No," Loki says immediately.

"Loki," Frigga scolds.

Loki shrugs. "There's nothing to talk about."

"There's a lot to talk about. Odin is invited to the engagement party and the wedding whether you like it or not."

Loki gives a pathetic expression, slumping in his chair. "Why?"

"Why? Because he's your father."

"In most ways, no, he's really not."

"Loki!" Loki purses his lips and puts his glass of water down. "Don't. Don't start that again. Your father loves you, even when he's horrible at showing it. He just…doesn't understand all of you."

Loki looks away at that. What a nice, mild way to put it. He doesn't understand.

"Either way, he's coming over sooner or later and I don't want a repeat of last year. I want things to be resolved among you two."

"That's up to him," Loki says at length.

"Don't you act so high and mighty. You weren't exactly the victim that day either, remember." Loki's jaw tightens as Frigga stares. She leans forward and takes Loki's hands. Loki's so used to the gesture that he doesn't resist. When Frigga speaks again, her voice has softened. "I know that he said…cruel things to you. We've all chastised him for it. He's seen the error in his ways."

"I find that hard to believe."

Frigga's expression is pained. "Loki….I know you're still hurt. You two have trouble seeing things from each other's point of view sometimes. But he's really tried. I've tried to explain some….things about you to him. I just really need you to try and think of forgiveness."

Loki sets a harrowing glare into the carpet. He stands then, slipping his hands out of Frigga's grip. "Sorry," he murmurs, "but I'm really tired. I think I'm going to head back."

"Of course, sweetheart," Frigga says, standing to hug him. "I hope you sleep well."

Loki heads back to his apartment with a fire ignited in his gut. Odin has seen the error in his ways? Ha! Odin doesn't believe he's capable of making errors, let alone atone for them. Oh, and now apparently Odin understands him, how cute. He'll show that fucker. He hopes Odin comes, he hopes Odin comes and hates Stark just so Loki can stand up at that engagement party, announce his undying love for him and then tell Odin to go fuck himself, and then the photos will click and the shutters will flash and Loki will spread his arms wide and declare 'Yes father! I turned out to be the disappointment you always knew I'd be!"

Tony awkwardly scratches the shell of his ear. Darcy digs her hand into her bag of Cheetos and doesn't bother swallowing her mouthful before refilling. She wipes her orange fingers on her jeans. Tony throws his gaze to Loki before he can openly cringe.

"We doing this?"

Loki is sitting stiffly on the coffee table beside him. Tony lets go of the urge to sit a little closer—Loki's obviously gotten over whatever spit he had yesterday, but has gone cold and formal again, determined and un-distracted. Tony isn't too worried. He holds onto how Loki came back from wherever he went last night, crawled under the covers with him on the couch and whispered an apology.

Loki nods. "Yes, I promised her we'd explain our situation properly in the morning. She is invited to our engagement party."

Darcy makes a happy squeak from the couch. Tony exhales slowly. "Alright…"

Loki scoffs. "You're acting like you're about to tell your children you have terminal cancer." He looks at Darcy. "Stark and I aren't in a BDSM relationship. He's paying me to act as his boyfriend because he has disturbing daddy issues, non-existent validation and love from his mother and because he likes to toy with people's lives."

"Wow," Tony shouts, throwing his head into his hands, "thanks Lokes! Write my next speech for the fucking charity ball!"

Darcy erupts in boisterous laughter, dropping the crinkled Cheetos bag as she holds her stomach. "You two," she gasps, "are perfect for each other." Loki smirks.

"Really?" Tony asks, head whipping up. "Do we act like it? Do we pass as perfect for each other?"

Darcy just laughs harder, abandoning any sensibility to fall backwards onto the couch cushions.

When she finally regains herself and slinks out of the apartment and off to wherever it is Darcy Lewis enjoys in her spare time, Tony is uncertain whether she's even heard anything they've said.

But to hell with those possible future consequences, back to Tony's immediate problem: surviving Loki for two days trapped in a boxed up apartment. If romance movies have taught him anything, then this can only end in two ways. He never thought it could end a little bit of both.

Loki sits him down and says that they need to know each other more intimately. Unfortunately, his meant a two hour long lecture about Loki's family ties. And god forbid Tony ask for a food break, some water or to take a fucking piss, because apparently it was the most important thing in the world to know about how Loki's Aunt Bestla has the most scolding discourse with his cousin Hoenir.

So you can imagine Tony's relief when Loki decides it an appropriate time for lunch. Tony welcomes the hot plate of grilled cheese sandwiches on his lap, even if it's accompanied by dramatic string chords of Titanic playing on the TV.

Tony finally gets to wear the pants in the situation and starts his own interrogation about Loki's life. Apparently Loki's had quite a few boyfriends back in the day. One serious. Tony, in turn, tells of his girlfriends. None serious.

"The most significant I've gotten in a relationship is maybe buying a girl…an iPod? I think."

"An iPod?" Loki laughs. "How long ago was this? That's like buying someone…an NSYNC cd."

"Well I assure you it was quite the luxurious gift when I bought it."

"Fuck you're old."

"Hey, fuck you kiddily-wink. At least I wasn't in pre-school when this fucking movie came out," he gestures to the screen.

Loki blinks. "Tony…" Loki says slowly. "This was 1997."

"Yeah."

"I was born in 1997."

Tony thinks for a bit before groaning. "Fuck I'm old." Loki snorts and Tony muffles out the sound by shoving another mouthful of bread and cheese into his mouth.

They watch on as Kate Winslet tries to throw herself off the back off a ship.

"So you've never had a boyfriend?" Loki ask, coyly enough, as he sips his chocolate milk.

Tony thinks. "Not boyfriends, per say. Boys? Sure."

"What's the furthest you've gone with them?"

It has absolutely no relevance to what they need to know for the engagement party and Tony is so glad.

He leans back and stretches his legs out on the pillow they've put on the coffee table for this exact purpose. "I have…kissed. On the lips."

"Ooooo," Loki teases, watching the screen. "Scandalous."

"I have…seen real life men naked."

"How many?"

"Three."

"At a time?"

"You are vile."

Loki puts his drink down. "I'm sorry. Continue."

"And I have…put a penis in my mouth before."

Loki gasps and applauds. "My, my. Well done."

Tony gives a half-bow. "Thank you, thank you. It was all in community service, I assure you."

Loki's grin is strange, not one Tony's seen on him before. He picks up his drink again and watches the screen. "Did you like it?"

Tony shrugs. "Eh. It was very spur of the moment. Also a lot of alcohol. But there's always a lot of alcohol with my decision making. So…" he makes an 'I-don't-know' face.

"Would you do it again?"

That makes Tony pause. His cheeks feel a little hot as he glances to Loki. "Are you coming onto me?"

"No!" Loki says quickly. "I was just asking. I guess I was just wondering why you'd pick me to pretend to be your partner if you've never had a boyfriend before."

Fair question.

"I don't know…you're pretty and British? Guess it was just another—"

"Spur of the moment."

"Yeah."

Loki goes quiet and Tony hopes he hasn't offended him in some way. The answer for why he picked him being 'convenience' isn't the most romantic thing in the world. No-one speaks so Tony guesses that's the end of that conversation and watches the movie for a while.

Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are at dinner together. For no particular reason, Tony pictures Loki in movies like this, with dramatic love stories and dazzling young men in suits with romantic dances and dinners and pretty women in their sparkling dresses and rosy cheeks.

"Have you ever been at it with a woman?"

Loki bursts out laughing. Tony looks humorously at him, eye brow raised. "What? No?" Loki continues to laugh and when he does calm down, he doesn't even give an answer. "You'd totally bang Audrey though."

Loki pauses from taking a long slurp of his drink. "Oh yeah."

"Yeah. You'd totally let Audrey peg you."

Milk comes spraying out of Loki's mouth and Tony cackles in delight. Loki darts out of the kitchen, hand over mouth. "I hate you," he warns when he passes him.

Loki has class after lunch and his rehearsals take him well into the evening. Tony passes the time by snooping around the apartment, confirming any wedding decisions his mother sends him and trying to sit through one of the more obscure movies in Loki's collection. He's glad when his fake-boyfriend finally does drag himself home, face shiny and limbs tired.

They clean up the living room, ridding the soda of crumbs and the different tables of mugs and glasses. They beat the quilts and punch the cushions until the make-bed sofa is once again sleep worthy. Snuggling is less awkward. It may be because Tony plays games like 'blow in Loki's ear' or 'fake snore until Loki loses it', he doesn't know. When Darcy comes home late and joins them, they don't complain.

Wednesday passes much the same, until late afternoon when Tony's sitting on the couch, pink and hot from head to toe.

"Uh," he stutters.

Loki holds his face tighter. "Stop wiggling. You're making it hard."

"Sorry," Tony says, biting his lower lip.

"Don't bite your lip, how am I supposed to work with that?"

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbles. Loki waits a beat before pressing forward. Their lips barely touch before Tony's bowled over laughing, because, he's sorry, but this is ridiculous.

Loki throws his hands. "Why do I bother? Are you just going to be stupid or are you actually going to try?"

"I was trying," Tony manages, wiping an eye and readjusting himself. "Trust me that was...one hundred per cent effort."

Loki tsks and grabs him again. Tony tries, he really does, but he just can't contain his grins and giggles. They're a hair-width apart when Tony notices Loki's lips struggling not to curve too.

"You're totally about to smile."

"I'm not."

"You are. You're gonna smile."

"Shut up."

It's not two seconds later before Loki snorts and draws away. "Ha!" Tony gestures victoriously. But it isn't long before Loki's smile is gone and the glare is back.

"We have to get this right Stark!"

"Well, you're doing it wrong! It needs to be spontaneous, here, like this—" He pulls Loki forward and kisses him.

Hm. Soft. Coffee and cheap breath mints. Before he decides he likes it, Loki shoves him back. "Not like that!"

"Huh?"

"Too romantic. We need to be ridiculous. We need to be disgusting. Completely fake, like this—"

And suddenly Loki has him and holy fuck, the kid could bite. Tony can't even get an 'ow' out before it's all tongues and hands and then Loki's pushed him into the cushions and is straddling him with his long skinny legs. Tony slowly adjusts but can't even get a hand in Loki's hair before it's over. Loki releases his mouth and pants over him.

"Like that."

"Like that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright."

Tony quickly flips the tables and pushes Loki until he's the one looming over him. He catches his mouth and Loki makes a small noise of surprise, but quickly accommodates and kisses eagerly back. And they are just as Loki described—utterly vulgar and disgusting. Loki tugs on Tony's hair and his legs creep up his thighs and Tony welcomes it by deepening the kiss until he's sure his tongue is fondling Loki's tonsils. They only stop to take in gulps of breath before plunging in again, as if their goal is to see who can drown each other first.

Tony wishes he could say some dramatic, romantic poetry reflecting this moment, that his whole outlook of love has changed, that this is the part where he decides Loki is the one and all those other things you're supposed to think when you share a first kiss with someone. But to tell you the truth, it's just fun. Tony can feel Loki's smile against his stubble and he smiles back, until they have to stop because they're laughing too hard.

"Finally a skill you can impress me with," Loki says breathlessly with an arm over his head, cheeks pink.

Tony wipes his bottom lip with his thumb and it comes away with spit and blood. "You are foul."

"Thank you."

"How long do we need to do this?"

(He's not complaining.)

"Hmm," Loki taps his toes on Tony's leg. "Your tongue needs work."

Tony stares. "…oh you better take that back. My tongue is fucking beautiful."

Loki shrugs innocently. "Well, it must've been just a bad day for it, I don't know…"

Tony points to his mouth. "This tongue has pleased models."

"Stick-like women who've burned all their tastebuds out due to cigarettes and meth? Not impressed."

They stare off for a bit, just long enough for them to drop their smiles and feel a small pebble of embarrassment sink in their stomach, when the doorbell rings for their pizza delivery.

They eat quietly and talk about the weather over lunch.


A/N: I am nothing but sin.