Loki couldn't wait to have his own apartment, if it was anything like this. He enjoyed Clint's company, and the fact that he liked his own private time as much as Loki liked his, and he felt they were a good match for roommates. But to have an entire space to oneself, to watch whatever he wanted on the television—rare as he watched it—to listen to whatever he wanted on the stereo, and to come and go as he pleased, that was the life.

Thor had left the night before, stopping by Loki's room to say good-bye and wish him a nice holiday, before he did. He asked if Loki had any message he wished to pass on to Odin and Frigga. Loki had laughed sarcastically. He had a message, all right. Instead, he simply answered no and turned back to his laptop and Thor was gone. Clint followed the next morning, once again offering Loki a spot at his parents' dining table. Clint didn't think it was right for Loki to spend a holiday like this alone in his room. After Loki assured him he would be fine, Clint headed out.

It had been quiet all day in the dorm. He wasn't completely alone, however. There were a few students that stayed behind in all the dorms, and some resident advisors tasked to watch over more than just their own building over the weekend. It was overcast this morning and Loki enjoyed being able to sleep in a little later and take his time getting up, getting showered and dressed. He ate a light lunch and decided to spend some time working on the poetry portfolio he had to have done by semester's end.

He was stretched out on the sofa, a violin concerto playing through the room, and a notepad in his lap, scribbling away. His heart just about stopped and he bolted upright when the door to his dorm was thrown open and Tony Stark waltzed in.

"Afternoon!" he said in greeting.

Loki got to his feet and pressed a hand to his racing heart. "What is your problem?"

"No problem," Tony said calmly. He frowned at how frightened Loki looked. "Did I give you a scare? Sorry. I guess I opened that a little too fast, huh?" He looked up and around when he finally heard the music. "What is that? How can you listen to music without words? Doesn't it make you fall asleep?"

"Stark!" Loki threw down his notepad and stalked to the stereo to switch it off. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with your family, like everyone else?"

Tony made a noise with his lips and teeth. "Hi, I could ask you the same thing, dude. Howie had business elsewhere and I didn't really want to be in that gigantic mansion alone—well, alone with the staff. Why force them to make a big Thanksgiving dinner for one, you know what I mean? Plus, I had some projects to work on. Not big ones, but the extra couple of days to work on them could really—"

"You're doing it again," Loki said flatly, glaring.

Tony's eyes shot to the left then to the right before coming back to Loki. "Doing what?"

"You're talking too much."

"Oh. Sorry."

"What do you want?" Loki moved closer, wishing he could just push the man out of his room. He was having such a lovely day. And now Tony, with his incessant speed talking and lightning fast change of subjects, was going to ruin it.

"I was in my room and I started getting a little hungry. I knew you were still here so I thought I'd invite you over. So come on." Tony spun around and headed into the hall.

Loki walked to the door, pausing at the edge of the doorway to cross his arms and lean against the door jamb. "What makes you think I would accept?"

Tony whirled around again and Loki glanced down at his bare feet. "You gotta eat, don't ya? Come on, Loki, loosen up. I got a couple of Hungry Mans in the oven and…" he disappeared into his room for a few seconds and came back with a large bottle full of amber liquid. "This was my consolation prize from dear old dad."

Loki stared at the bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey then the man. "Are you actually inviting me over for dinner and drinks?" His eyes stayed on the shorter man as he shuffled back into the hallway closer to him. Something in those chocolate brown eyes told him he would be having dinner with Tony Stark tonight.

"It's Thanksgiving, Loki. No one should eat alone tonight. Not even you." He turned and walked back into his room, leaving the door open.

Loki hesitated for exactly ten seconds before closing his door and heading into the dorm across the hall.

Tony hid his surprise well. He didn't think Loki would accept and he would have to come up with some other scheme to keep an eye on him, like Thor had asked him to. He didn't think this is what Thor meant but Tony always did things his own way. And it gave him the opportunity to spend even more time with Loki. Still, it threw him a bit when Loki followed him into his dorm and took a seat at the dining table against the wall. There wasn't much discussion during dinner; trying to get the guy to converse was like pulling teeth for Tony. Even if he did give a response it was usually one word or an 'hm' here and there. Tony hated that 'hm.' He wasn't too sure why, but it could have been because it was such an intimate noise, vibrating from deep down in Loki's throat.

Tony had to work not to get caught staring at Loki. He just did everything with such grace and elegance. The way he held his fork, the way he chewed his food, the way he lifted the plastic cup to his lips and sipped so quietly; it made Tony want to sit back and simply observe him doing any movement. Loki finished eating first, which irritated Tony a bit because Loki didn't try to conversate, he just sat quietly watching Tony chew. He stuffed the last few bites in his mouth and carried their trays to the trash can. On his way back to the table he grabbed two small glasses and the bottle of Wild Turkey.

"Tell me when," he said placing one glass in front of Loki.

"None, thank you. I should get back to my room."

"What? Why?" Tony hated that he sounded so whiny as Loki got to his feet and he followed him to the door. "We haven't had our drinks yet. You gotta give me a chance to loosen you up."

Loki's brows came together but his lips curved. "Why is it you feel I need loosening up?"

In a habit he didn't know he had only picked up with Loki, Tony's shoulders rose and dropped again. "You seem a little wound up. Come on. We'll make a game of it." Tony carried the glasses and whiskey to the sofa in the communal area and sat to unscrew the cap. Loki lingered by the door for a moment before slowly making his way toward the coffee table the glasses were placed on.

"What kind of game?" His hands slipped into the pockets of his dark gray slacks.

"What kind do you think? A drinking game." Tony filled the two glasses each halfway and held one up to Loki. "Here; take it." His eyes flicked up to Loki's face when he didn't take it right away.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Stark?" he asked smiling down at the shorter man.

Tony smirked. "Not actively. But if it happens…" He motioned again for Loki to take the glass. The taller man finally did and took a seat on the chair opposite Tony, bringing the glass up to his mouth. Tony watched him sniff at it then take a tiny sip. The face he made said he liked it and he took another, longer drink. He swallowed the entire thing, let out a short "aah!" and held it out, asking for more. Tony's smile grew and did as the man asked. At this rate, Loki would be drunk in no time.

Loki had never had whiskey before. He liked it. And he was starting to find he liked Tony Stark. But he wasn't about to admit it to the man himself. Loki's initial impression of Tony was a loud, obnoxious, entitled, spoiled brat. And he wasn't wrong. Tony Stark was all of those things, just not all the time. He was extremely intelligent—literally, a genius, having entered college at fifteen years old. He already had two degrees and was working on a third in Physics, and he was just twenty-one years old. He greatly admired the work of his physics professor, Dr. Bruce Banner, and Loki suspected, looked up to him as a man, as well.

And Tony was funny. He mind was razor sharp, which worked well for any comedian, and he always had a sarcastic quip ready at the tip of his tongue. That would infuriate Loki were it anyone else—that was his area, after all. And once Tony had enough liquor in him, he confessed to Loki that he wasn't sure he loved Pepper. He admitted that when they were together, which apparently at the moment they were not, he often lied and told her he did so she would sleep with him. Loki, in a friendly way, criticized him for this and Tony drowned the guilt away in more alcohol.

As for Loki—three glasses in and he was telling Tony things he would probably later regret that he did. He told him he was adopted, but still had his wits about him enough to keep the whole sordid story out of his confession. He let Tony conclude that being adopted was the reason for his resentment and ill treatment of Thor. He didn't know if it was the whiskey that made them both so conversational this night, or if they had just learned to be relaxed enough in each other's company. His mind was starting to go fuzzy around the edges and he had a vague sense that he could actually step outside of himself and watch his interaction with Tony. Plus, alcohol made him horny and it had been awhile since he had had anyone.

He snorted, out loud, at his own thoughts, making Tony's eyes go wide.

"What? Something I said?" Tony asked from his position on the floor, leaning back against the sofa.

"No," Loki grinned, "just my own silly thoughts. I'm sorry, go on. I've interrupted." He sat forward, resting his arms on the coffee table and stretched out his legs underneath it.

"I don't even know…" Tony trailed off, blinking rapidly. He reached for the bottle and poured the last drops of it into his glass. "Shit. Howie's bottle's almost done." This made him fall into a fit of giggles.

Loki laughed with him. "What? I'm shocked, Stark. I would've thought you of all people would have stashed a trunkful of liquor under your bed." He laughed again but it quickly died when he caught the dark look on Tony's face. "What?"

"Why do you do that?"

Loki lifted a brow. "Do what?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "You say things. I think you mean them as jokes, but the way you say them, feels like insults."

Loki looked away, his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth. That was his way, he knew; it was his talent. Insulting without the person he was insulting realizing it. It was his favorite game to play with Thor. He decided it was best to play dumb this time. Tony Stark was too even a match at this. "When have I done that?"

"The day I saved you," Tony offered forcefully.

Loki's chin rose slightly, but he smirked. "Is that how you view that day?"

"Yeah. I saved you," he answered matter-of-factly. "And you couldn't even tell me what the hell was going on with you and Odin."

Loki rubbed his fingers over his forehead. "I believe you know the story now, Stark, do you not?"

"Yeah, but I think you only told me cause you've been drinking. That day you said you had no intention of sharing the details of your life with the likes of me. I want to know what you meant by that."

Loki sighed and dropped his head to the table. "Stark, I was angry that day," he said lifting his head again, resting his forehead against the heel of his hand. "And you were prying. I meant nothing by it. You should know my words can cut deeply when I'm angry."

Tony stared at him for what seemed like forever. Loki looked away again, drank more whiskey. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Loki's eyes moved to his and he swallowed the liquid in his mouth. He grinned, chuckled. "I don't hate you, Stark." Tony didn't seem appeased. Loki folded his legs under him, rising to his knees to pluck Tony's glass from his hand. He poured some of Tony's drink in his glass until both glasses were evenly filled. He slid the glass back to Tony and sat back on his feet. "If I hated you I would not be sitting in your living room, sharing this…" he held up the glass and smiled back at Tony, "Spectacular beverage." He threw his head back and swallowed the whole thing.

Tony finally smiled. He rolled his eyes, but he finally smiled. "Okay, fine. You don't hate me. But you don't like me very much."

Loki stared down at his empty glass. Oh, but I do… "Even you have to admit that you can be insufferable at times."

"Oh, yeah, I'm a total pain in the ass. But you're the only who doesn't find it charming." Loki's eyes lifted to his when he paused and Loki thought something was going on behind those brown eyes. "Well…you and my dad."

Loki's head angled, his curiosity piqued at another mention of Howard Stark. "Your father…?"

Tony drank. "Hmm. He thinks I'm immature and that I don't take things seriously enough. He doesn't think I'll ever be ready to take over Stark Industries." Tony was speaking to the carpet, not Loki, and holding his glass close to his chest, almost cradling it. "You know, I could do that shit in my sleep, but he has, like, no confidence in me."

Loki grinned softly. He couldn't agree with Howard more about Tony being immature and not taking things seriously—some of the time. Clearly, right now he was being very serious. It appeared Tony could have his moments of acting like a normal human being, Loki had discovered. "Is your relationship with him… hmm, contentious?"

The question seemed to draw Tony's gaze. And Tony grinned wickedly. "Oh, are we gonna go there?"

Loki frowned, cocked his head. "What? Go where?"

Tony sat up a little straighter in his position and gulped down the last remains of his drink. "Are we going to have the daddy conversation? Cause you owe me one."

Loki groaned quietly and got to his feet, his world tilting a little, and fell into the chair again. "It was a simple inquiry, Stark. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

"No, no, no! I'll tell you. And I'm drunk, so you'll get the whole fucking story with no filters. But if I tell you, you have to tell me about you and your dad."

Loki frowned and shook his head. "I've already told you; I'm adopted."

"That's not the whole story." Loki's eyes narrowed at Tony. "You know how this goes: eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Tit for tat." His eyes were directly on Loki's and his lips curved ever so slightly. "I show you mine, you show me yours."

Loki's tongue flicked out, swiping across his upper lip, as he considered. He didn't miss the implication in Tony's statement, but a small part of him wondered if he really meant it. From what he knew about him so far, Tony Stark was a straight man who chased after anything in a skirt. Loki had no such preference but he liked it better when the people he was attracted to were a little more open-minded. Something in his gut told him to walk away and never come back. He planned on ignoring that something tonight and finding out where this could go.

"Get me another drink and I'll play your game."

"I hate him; I hate my father."

The confession wasn't shocking, nor was it said with any malice. It was simply an honest statement from the son of a man incapable of showing any affection for a child he never really wanted.

Tony stared up at the ceiling, his head resting on the seat of the sofa next to an outstretched leg. Loki had moved to sprawl across the cushy red piece of furniture since Tony had opted to stay on the floor. He had thought the words so many times, but to say them out loud to someone—someone who could actually understand what he was going through—made his heart hurt. His eyes slid closed and a tear snuck its way out of his eye and down his temple. A finger brushed it away. It took a moment for him to realize it was not his own.

"Do you hate Odin?" he asked softly, opening his eyes and lifting his head. He heard Loki swallowing the Jack Daniels he had pulled out from the freezer then a beat of silence.

"Yes," was the equally soft reply.

Tony nodded and swallowed. "Loki, did you ever…I mean after you found out the truth…you ever think about suicide?" There was shifting above him and whenTony dropped his head back again, it rested on Loki's knee.

"I did, once. Then I realized that taking my own life would only give him sympathy and more press. So why bother?" Another short pause. "Did you, Stark?"

Tony sighed. "I did more than think about it." The room was silent and Tony stared at the bottle on his coffee table. He felt cool fingers slide under his chin, lifting it until he met dark green eyes.

"What did you do?"

Tony lifted his chin from Loki's grasp and lowered his head. He took a small taste from the glass and sighed heavily. "My mother died. The only person on this planet who gave a shit about me, and she died because some idiot didn't know when to stop at a red light. Sometimes I wished it was my dad who was in the car. But most of the time I wished I was in the car with her. I was supposed to be, you know?"

He nodded, sipped again.

"But I had just gotten over a cold and still had the sniffles. She was only going down to the supermarket to get some more chicken soup for me. She kissed my forehead then walked out and was gone forever. He wouldn't even hug me. Not when he told me, not even as we stood by her grave, he wouldn't put his arm around me and just tell me, 'it's all going to be all right, Tony.' He couldn't even give me that."

He was vaguely aware of fingers in his hair, coursing through the thick, dark tufts, in the same motion over and over, running from the crown of his head to the back. It felt nice; soothing, calming. He finished off his drink and continued.

"I was fourteen. It was after I crashed a car into a tree." He chuckled softly. "It was his favorite one, too. I thought he'd be so pissed he'd kill me. But…no such luck. He just ignored me, as usual. Then it was the anniversary of mom's accident. We usually avoided each other on that day—her birthday, too. We just…stayed in separate parts of the house. I didn't know where he was that day, but…I went to see her that morning and I just…couldn't handle it anymore. I wanted to be with her because at least then someone would care, someone would pay attention."

He stopped, remembering. He had stood in his bathroom, over the sink, held the razor in one hand, a tumbler of Howard's best brandy in his other, and stared at himself in the cabinet mirror. He still had had small scratches across his nose and cheeks from the glass that shattered when he slammed into that tree. He remembered how bitter the brandy tasted in his mouth; he wasn't used to alcohol yet and to this day even just a whiff of brandy made him nauseous. He had pressed the edge of the razor to his left wrist and pressed down until he saw blood. He had tried to finish the job but the pain was more than he expected. The gash he had made was barely an inch long, but it bled everywhere. He panicked and grabbed for a towel, but he must have nicked an artery because the blood wouldn't stop. He had stumbled into the hall, yelling for someone, anyone to help. The loss of blood had his head swimming and eventually he had blacked out. When he had woken up, he was in his bed, his wrist wrapped, and the housekeeper sitting by his bedside.

"He couldn't even wait and see if I would wake up," Tony said whisper-soft after telling the story. "The bastard didn't even care. You know what he said to me when he finally decided to talk to me? 'Keep this up and I'll write you out of my will, Tony.'"

Tony hadn't realized that Loki had lowered himself to the floor next to him until his hand was on his back, stroking in comforting circles at first, then holding Tony as he let the angry tears fall. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing until the tears stopped. They sat in silence for a moment, Loki giving Tony a chance to collect himself.

"I think you were right," Loki said finally once Tony quieted down.

He sniffed and emptied his glass. "I'm always right. What about this time?"

Loki grinned and shook his head. "That is definitely a relationship to fear—your father's and mine."

Tony laughed, deeply, making his shoulders shake. "Sorry for being such a downer. I hope I didn't kill your buzz."

Loki picked up his glass again. "No. And don't be. It appears you needed to let that out." Tony made a noise of agreement and scooted forward to grab the Jack Daniels bottle and filled his glass again.

"I hope this makes me pass out soon," he said sitting back, shoulder to shoulder with Loki. "I could use a ten-hour nap." He noticed Loki had gone quiet and glanced at him. He was staring into his glass, blindly. "Loki?"

"I lied."

Tony smacked his lips together, loudly. "Huh?"

"Well, I didn't lie so much as I withheld some things."

"What are you talking about?"

Loki sighed and launched into the whole story: the bully that told him the truth, Odin's affair and, finally, the confrontation. After he had finished, he glanced up at Tony, who stared at him with a furrowed brow.

"How did that kid who told you even know?"

"As if I wasn't foolish enough…" he muttered. "Apparently, it's a very popular theory among the politicos of Washington; a theory that just happens to be true. The public will believe whatever you want them to believe, but behind the scenes…everyone is aware that Odin only adopted me to make himself look like a good man after the affair." Loki yawned and lowered himself so he could drop his head back on the sofa. "There was one editorial piece about it in USA Today, though, printed just after I moved into the Richmond house with them. I suppose that detestable swine found it online."

Tony glanced over at Loki, practically falling asleep now. He nudged him with his elbow. "Hey. Fading out on me already? Weak sauce!"

Loki groaned, lifted his head and his eyelids briefly then dropped his head onto Tony's shoulder. "I don't believe I've ever had this much to drink, Stark. My, my head is spinning."

"You're not gonna throw up on me, are you?"

"Hmm…?" was Loki's only response.

Tony watched him for a moment, sleeping on his shoulder, disappointed their night had to come to an end. Loki's breathing was starting to slow to a sleeping rhythm. Tony smiled to himself at the way Loki's lips had settled into a small, pleased smile and his lashes created black half-moons across the tops of his high-boned cheeks. With a sigh, he placed their glasses on the coffee table and with as much finesse as he could, without jolting Loki awake or he falling on his ass, Tony lifted Loki back onto the sofa. Loki moaned and Tony froze, watching the pale face to see if he would wake.

"Stark…? What are you doing?"

"Just go to sleep, Loki." He placed a decorative pillow under Loki's head and pulled the blue and red throw laid over the back of the sofa down to cover him. He wondered if Loki would care that it was Thor's blanket. He jolted when Loki's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "What! Jesus. Loki, don't do that. I almost fell and hit my damn head."

"Thank you."

Tony stared in shock. Loki's eyes fluttered open and closed slowly as he fought to stay awake and Tony lowered himself to the sofa. "Okay… You're welcome?"

"It felt nice to…have someone to talk to…" His lips curved in a quiet laugh, his tongue poking out between his teeth. "It's too bad you're such a pain sometimes, Stark." Tony frowned but chuckled.

"Why's that?"

Loki's eyes stayed closed now, though his lips still curved in a sweet grin. "Because you're very cute." He laughed again then sighed back into sleep. Tony wanted so badly to test his own limits and place a chaste goodnight kiss on those enticing red lips. But he held himself back and instead removed his arm from Loki's weakened grasp. He laughed to himself and got up to go to his own bed waiting for him.

"Good night, Loki."

"Hmm…good night, Anthony."