Chapter 4

Loki Laufeyson

My clothes were a scattered mess across my room as it traced out a trail from the doorway to the bed itself, starting with my tie, then followed by my shirt, my pants, my shoes, and my socks lying by the side of my bed. I was in nothing but my underwear from the night before with a pillow pulled over my head to block out the light and cushion the honking and construction resounding from outside. It didn't work out well when some asshole pulled out the jackhammer, but I wasn't going to let that ruin my day in.

I had gone to sleep with good news in the back of my head, and when I woke up nearly twelve hours later after returning from that ghastly get-together Jane had dragged me to, I still woke up with a smile on my face and Stark's assumption in the back of my mind where I refused to move it to proper thought. Even though twelve o'clock was a little early for me to be awake (I was rarely awake before noon), I still dragged myself out of bed and indulged myself into coffee that had to be reheated in the microwave.

The television only got six channels, so I turned it onto a cheesy soap opera and half-watched it. I picked up the novel I had borrowed from a friend at work and read it as a woman bawled her eyes out in the background. A violin picked up in a minor tune to portray the grief and desperation of the scene, but it only added effect to the scene written beautifully in the book. I wasn't moved to tears, of course, but finishing the chapter left me a little empty inside. I hated relatable characters. No, I hated authors of relatable characters. They made you love the bastards and then ruined their lives so you'd cry.

Fuck writers.

Maybe I would give soap operas a try. Jane liked to blabber on about her favorite one all the time when she and Thor were separated, so I had often wondered what the allure was when it came to them. What had people so attracted? I set my book down, a green ribbon acting as bookmark, and allowed myself to stare at the brain-numbing television set. After about ten minutes, I learned that the female lead's husband had been cheating on her with his sister-in-law and his brother's wife. Gross. The sister-in-law was pregnant with the male lead's brother's baby, and the male lead learned that the sister-in-law was actually his twin sister, with whom he had been separated at birth, meaning he had married his other sister and impregnated the wife of a man he had no blood relations with.

. . . Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, while I go and scramble what is left of my brain matter with a whisk.

I finished off the stale coffee and brushed my teeth to get rid of the coffee-and-good-morning breath. When I returned to the living room of the apartment, I stopped to inspect a picture of Thor and me. I walked towards the shelf it was standing on and picked it up. The memory came back to me the second my fingers touched the wooden frame, and the smile that came to my face was almost immediate.

I had what others would describe as "daddy-issues." My dad and I never got along since before I could remember. Thor even says that I wouldn't let him hold me when I was a child. If he got near me I would scream and holler and cry until someone separated us. And my attitude towards him worsened when I was twelve and I quickly realized that in a family with blond hair and amber eyes I was the only one with black hair and blue eyes. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I was adopted and that no one had bothered to tell me. My relationship with my parents worsened when they tried to justify why they hadn't told me, but Thor simply apologized to me and told me that no matter what he was my brother and he would convince me in the best way he could.

After that we spent nearly two hours brawling and throwing punches and nearly killing each other until I gave up and admitted that I still loved him and that he was my brother. Then we scrapped and brawled and bruised each other out of brotherly love. I still had a scar on the back of my leg from gashing it on the edge of the coffee table, but it had almost disappeared. The skin along it was a bit numb from nerve damage, though. It was the weirdest feeling when Thor pinched my leg to wake me up some mornings, and now, nights.

I returned my focus to the picture in my hands. It was of Thor and me back in elementary school, when we were just small tykes and everything was perfect, before I realized that Thor and I were never tied by blood. His class was having a field trip and he desperately wanted me to come and spend the day at the zoo with him. We begged our parents and the teachers and even the principal to allow me to go with him until everyone caved in. He brought a disposable camera with him, and this had been one of the pictures he had taken with it. He pulled me in front of the birds outside the avian exhibit, put his arm around me, and held the camera out at arm's length to take the picture.

He still had that same goofy, crooked smile that melted everyone's hearts that saw it. He was also distinctively taller than I was and still is. He could make everyone love him with a simple smile and wave of his hand. I, on the other hand, preferred to keep to myself and didn't make any friends that Thor didn't hang out with. School sucked when I was younger, and I was more than glad to get out. I had even managed to get into college, and I graduated at the top of my class. Of course, I had to move to the city where jobs were unavailable to anyone without a six-digit income or trillions of dollars to throw at the nearest charity to get the press off their backs.

Life was easier when you had fatter pockets than the person passing you on the street.

I was pulled out of my memories by the telephone ringing. I hated how loud it was. Damn thing was so loud I was surprised the old woman next door wasn't beating against the wall and telling us to keep the racket down before she threatened to call the police. I laid the picture back down onto the shelf and rushed into the kitchen to grab the cordless. Much easier to walk around and talk than stand in one place.

I yanked it up and answered as charmingly as I could. Phone calls during the day usually went unanswered because I was in bed, comfortable and warm, and I usually refused to get up to answer it. Thor was out job-hunting like a lion for prey, and he rarely returned home during the day, successful trip or not.

"Ah, yes, this is actually quite perfect. I was calling for your brother, but in reality, I wanted to talk to you." I instinctively tightened my grip on the phone. Why, oh dear mother of Odin, did I have to get up early enough to answer the phone? Couldn't I have just stayed in bed for today? "Hey, are you still there? I don't want to be talking to air."

"How the hell did you get my phone number, Stark?" I demanded, storming over to my couch. "I don't believe I gave it to you last night. And the bar refuses to disclose any of its employees' information due to legal issues."

"Right," he said with a laugh. "It just so happens that I have technology that can find any information on any person living or dead that has their information typed into a computer." I could just see the sarcastic smile on his face, and I looked at the wall with the sudden urge to punch it hard enough to break my fingers.

"Why on earth would you want to call me?" I asked sourly.

"Are you still angry about what I said last night? Look, I remembered your name this time. It's Loki," he said, tone rushed in case I decided to hang up while he was midsentence. "I didn't realize the pay-for-sex comment would piss you off as bad as it had."

"Oh, learning the difference between a stripper and a prostitute now are we?" I leaned against the back of the couch and crossed my ankles. "Congratulations. I do believe an award is in order."

"Oh, really? Could that award be taking you out to dinner tonight?"

I opened my mouth to give him a sharp answer when I stopped with my mouth wide open. I coughed and tried to come up with another answer to his remark. He waited while I stammered and choked on my words. I thought Tony Stark was a panty-stealer, a womanizer, and a fucking Playboy for God's sake! Why was he asking out a man? Of course, I couldn't exactly criticize him, considering the previous company I had taken, but I had always heard of him in a scandalous story with women, never men.

I managed to close my mouth and take a deep breath. He was just a damn kid in a grown man's body. There was not a thing he could do to me that would do any permanent damage, right? Right. Just go with it. It's free food, after all.

"I'm still on the phone," Anthony said sarcastically. "In case you forgot that I was here." He chuckled as he waited for my answer. I took a deep breath to calm the heart beating out of control in my chest. What the hell was up with me lately?

"Well, that depends on where you expect to take me," I replied quickly.

He laughed again. It was lighthearted and strong. He had probably been drinking quite a few bottles and had managed to get himself buzzed enough to call me. The date thing was going to end up being a hoax if I read this Anthony Stark well enough, and if he turned out like the last few men I've had chasing my tail, then I was definitely going to have to cave into Thor's pressuring to get myself a gun license. And that license would have to get into my hands pretty damn quick.

"Well, there's this Italian restaurant just a few blocks from your workplace." The last word was strained, but I ignored the tone and allowed him to continue uninterrupted. Baby steps, Loki. He's trying his best; albeit I had no idea what it was he was trying to do. "It's not the most amazing place, but it's one of the best places to eat in privacy."

Ah, secrecy. He didn't want to be seen while he apologized to me. I didn't think much of it. It would cause such uproar if the press were to spot him and get their mouths moving to create fantasies that had never even happened. If I could live through three damnable nightmares in a row, a fourth one couldn't hurt, right?

I smiled as my willpower forced me to cave in. I just couldn't stay away from the suave, company-man types that always seemed to swarm around me. That was going to be my downfall one day.

"Do tell me that I don't have to wear a tuxedo to this little get-together we're having."

"Quite frankly, I couldn't give a damn about what you wear to dinner. As long as you're not going to be taking it off in front of me, you could wear a giant banana suit."


Thor came home to me in the same suit from the night before, and although I do enjoy seeing the multitude of expressions that cross his face as he tries to deduct my evening plans, I didn't have time to sit around and play 21 Questions with my brother all night. I actually had plans that didn't involve me taking my clothing off for old men. Even I was disgusted often at what I did.

"Well, this is . . . unexpected," Thor complimented as I ran a hand over my hair to make sure it was okay. "I normally see you walk out in a very loose-fitting ensemble. Did Jane have another gala to attend that you agreed to escort her to?"

"The hope in your voice, Thor, is exceedingly obvious." I shot him a smirk. "I happen to have a . . . I will be having dinner with a friend this evening. I'm beginning to think that my boss might think I am trying to skip work. After tonight, I will not be able to stop for a few weeks." I could feel his eyes harsh on my back as I adjusted my scarf. "Do feel free to glare at my back as much as you wish, but my job remains a factor in our lives until you can find one of better pay."

"Brother, you have had extra schooling specifically for a job to avoid doing exactly what it is you are doing now. Find a law firm, give them your résumé, and stop this disgusting fashion you've gotten yourself wrapped up in. It's . . . It's lawless, and it's dangerous."

"I have heard this somewhere before." I turned back towards him with a sharp frown and a cold tongue. "Thor, you continue to give me the same speech every day, and I will continue to give you the same answer I always do. Now, would you like to check my arms for any nonexistent puncture wounds before I leave? I can promise you I have not shot anything into my bloodstream. Scout's honor." I raised my right hand.

A vein on Thor's right temple appeared and I immediately feared that I had pushed him too far for one night. I let my hand drop to my side and pulled the little sucker behind my back so he wouldn't be able to cause any further damage. His thick brows pulled together tightly as he looked over me and shook his head. A son disappointing his father or mother was nothing. When a little brother disappointed his big brother, that guilt was enough to drive him insane.

Hence, it was why I felt extremely bad about leaving tonight. But I had already promised Anthony that he and I would meet at the restaurant many hours before Thor had returned. It was already half an hour before I was to meet him. I would be late if I continued to dawdle too long in my brother's company.

"I will be safe, I promise." I gathered my wallet with what was left of my pay from two nights ago and placed it in my front pocket. Pick pockets were rampant in Times Square. There was no telling when someone slipped their fingers in your back pocket and fished out your cash. One couldn't be too careful. "Oh, by the way, I probably will not return home right away tonight. How about you and Jane . . . Well, you know . . . Take advantage of my absence?"

Thor gave me a knowing snort as I winked at him. "At your insistence, I just might," he replied, heading towards the phone. "Please, watch yourself, and watch others more carefully.

"As always." I opened the door, gave him a small wave, and left for him to plan his date with his girlfriend while I did my best to forget that I was going on my own.


The restaurant was definitely the nicest building I had ever walked into. The ceiling was high and curved upwards into a dome painted with scenes of Venice and Ancient Rome. The artist was very talented, I thought as I waited in line at the hostess's podium. Anthony had told me he would already be here waiting for me and I simply had to tell the hostess I was here to see him. I silently prayed that he wasn't setting me up for some stupid gag while she left to seat the couple in front of me. My hands began to sweat and I hid them in my pockets.

I recognized a regular from my workplace walk past me. He gave me a short glance, stopped, and had to perform a double-take to make sure he had seen who I was and that his mind was not playing tricks on him. I smiled at him and waved. He looked around and approached me.

"Loki, what a surprise it is to see you here. Are you not working tonight?" he asked merrily, smiling towards the people who stopped to watch us converse. I chuckled and shook my head.

"No, a friend offered me dinner," I said. "I'm here to enjoy myself this evening." He grinned and put a hand on the lowest part of my back, just above my backside. Instantly, I tensed and inched away the best I could. "And I would appreciate not being harassed tonight."

"What are you talking about? I'm not harassing you." He laughed and nodded to a waitress that walked by. She smiled at us. "I'm offended you would say I was."

"I never said you were the one doing it. I simply said that I didn't want to be harassed. But your hand, being as close to my ass as it is, is not helping your cause." I pulled myself away from him and peeled his hand away from me. "Please, do go back to your wife and leave me alone. There is a very good reason as to why you're always being kicked out of the club, and I can ask the bouncer there to ban you from entering."

"Please." He laughed and leaned in close. I could smell the wine and garlic on his breath, and it was almost rancid enough for me to vomit. "I could simply pay him five times his wage to watch the door and let me in."

"You obviously do not know Romeo as well as I. His boss happens to be the person he's bedding. I doubt you would be able to get your way in using cash against the person he loves. So, please do the rest of my coworkers, and me, a favor and stay the hell away from us."

"Your bouncer's gay?"

"My boss is a woman. Idiot. And he's bisexual."

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

I turned away from my unpleasant guest silently and refused to give him any more of my attention. I didn't know if he stood there looking insulted and disgusted or if he decided to hightail it before someone recognized him and me. The hostess was a beautiful young woman with platinum-blond hair pulled into a ponytail that was pulled across one shoulder. She had big blue eyes and a warm smile. I found myself smiling back.

"Yes, I am here meeting a friend. He's already arrived, I believe," I answered as best I could without being entirely overwhelmed by the diners.

"Could you give me his name, please?" She opened the book in front of her and began to flip through the pages.

"Oh, um, Anthony Stark, I think. I'm not sure what name he has the reservation under."

I could hear people behind me gasp and whisper to each other. My eyes instinctively rolled themselves, but the hostess gave me a knowing glance. The people behind me didn't seem to understand the concept of ears because I could make out a majority of what they were saying, and most of it consisted of the women trying to get their dates affiliated with me to get to Anthony.

News flash, ladies: If you send your men at me, there is a high chance that you will not get them back.

"Yes, Mr. Stark is here. If you'll follow me, I'll lead you to his table."

She turned around and started walking away, and I locked my eyes on her to follow so that I wouldn't get lost and end up ruining someone's evening by storming over to their table. She kept turning her back to make sure that I was following before ascending a flight of winding stairs around a tall, thick column on one side of the room. I followed briskly, keeping close behind her. I didn't need her to spot Anthony in the quiet room. He was sitting by himself at the table, speaking to a small screen in his hand, and sitting the closest to the window to look out over the city.

He had trimmed himself nicely for tonight, I noticed, and I could already smell his cologne before we arrived at the table. It was strong but it wasn't one of those fragrances that was so overpowering that I felt the need to drown him in ice-cold water.

"Mr. Stark, your dinner guest," she introduced as I took the chair across from Anthony. He looked startled to see me and waved the hostess away.

"Why such a shocked look?" I demanded. "You invited me here, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I know. I was just . . ." He cocked his head to the side for a moment. "You were wearing that exact same suit last night. Why are you wearing it today?"

"Unlike you, I can only afford one suit at a time," I replied sourly. "Besides, I rarely go to any sort of formal event, so more than one suit isn't needed." I let my gaze drop to the crimson tablecloth and the menu in front of me.

"You're calling this a formal event?" he joked.

"Not entirely, but I did assume we would be going somewhere that required class." I let one corner of my lips come up in a smirk. "If I had known my clothing would have gathered such a reaction, I would have brought along my feather boa."

"Oh, God, imagine the reaction these high-end-stick-up-the-ass people around here would give you." Anthony laughed and I couldn't help but laugh along with him. He was definitely more pleasant to be around now. I wasn't quite sure what it was that brought this on, but I did not complain. I was enjoying myself and I wasn't going to bring the focus onto his rude comments from the night before.

Our talk began awkwardly. After ordering our drinks and food, we started with the topic of family, moving on to what we were like as children (his memories were mostly filled with books and technology), and many other different topics. I couldn't remember everything. But I did manage to remember that the food was definitely the best I had had, and the wine made me thankful for the strong alcohol tolerance I had gained from our alcohol-loving kin.

He seemed more interested, however, in the fact that I had a degree in law yet chose a profession that was strictly reserved for young women trying to pay their way through nursing school. The smirk that twisted my lips was sour, and I chose to answer him once our empty plates had been taken away and our glasses refilled.

"It's easier," I started, taking a sip of the clear Pinot Gris. "When you begin working at a strip club or a gay bar, people tend to not ask questions. No one asks where you came from, why you moved, why you decided to do it . . . They're quite accepting. All that matters to them is that you are one of them. Once you're in, they have your back." I shrugged. "It's quite simple."

"I still don't understand." He intertwined his fingers and gave me a hard stare. "You are definitely a brilliant person; from your appearance and your actions, no one's going to get that."

"Anthony Stark, I do believe you're flirting with a homosexual. Or, at least, you're trying to." I chuckled. "I'll give you a few moments to change your sentence and act as though it never happened."

"And why would I do that? Is it a crime to flirt with other men?" He smirked. Instantly, the anti-pickup-line force field rose as I braced myself against his charms. I studied his face to detect any signs of self-disgust or the twitch on the corner of the mouth for signs of a façade breaking at the suspense of hilarity. There was nothing but the solid smile on his face. It was definitely not a warm, comforting smile, and I continued to hide behind my force field. "Oh, and by the way, I hate the name 'Anthony.' If you're going to call me anything at all, call me 'Tony.'"

"All right, then, and what on earth changed in the ruler-straight, uninterested Tony Stark to make him suddenly interested in men?" I asked, dipping my head down for another sip of wine. I watched him over the top of the glass's rim.

"I'm not interested in 'men,' actually. It's more like I'm interested in you." He took a quick swallow, sighed, and set the glass down. "I have had men attempt to seduce me, believe it or not. Of course, these men were gross and repulsive. I didn't find myself attracted at all. You, on the other hand . . ." He paused to inspect me. "Well, you're quite fascinating."

"Because I'm a stripper?"

Inwardly, I chuckled at the slight gasp from behind me.

"No, not for that reason." Anthony . . . Tony cleared his throat as his cheeks flared. "However, I do wish you would stop mentioning that around me. It makes things very awkward."

"For you, I assume?"

"Yes, entirely for me. I don't like you using that word." He pointed a finger at me. "Stop it."

I simply smiled at him and waited for him to explain himself. Suddenly interested in men? The idea that he spontaneously turned bisexual was nothing more than a joke, I thought. No one simply changed his or her sexuality overnight. I kept myself cautious and kept my hope on a leash. Why I was hoping he had changed even I didn't know. It still didn't change the fact that I remained wary of his actions.

He paid for the check and gave a small tip to the hostess to allow us to remain at the restaurant for a few more hours and even paid for another bottle of wine, which he partook of. The dinner continued for nearly two hours longer, and I finally had drunk enough that I decided sleep was the most amazing thing in the universe. He and I were apparently buzzed enough that we were on the same wavelength. We shared a few more laughs, he paid for the wine, and we both left a nice tip for the waitress. After that we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways to return home.

. . . I think.