Title: broke into a thousand pieces.
Author: kyrilu/Endless-chan
Type: Fanfiction
Fandom: The Avengers (2012).
Rating: T/PG-13.
Warnings/Triggers: Underage drinking, parental neglect - Tony's father problems, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, adoption (Loki has a lot of problems coping with this issue.)
Pairings/Characters: Loki/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers, Sif/Thor, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson/Natasha Romanov, Ensemble.
In the morning, Tony kicks down the lab's door and sets a cup of coffee on one of the counters. His father lies, softly snoring, on a workbench, reeking of alcohol: he'd been here since the evening.
Tony stirs a spoon in the cup, inhaling the warm smell of coffee and milk and sugar. The scent traces away the stink of beer lingering in the room, and Tony stands there for a moment. Breathing.
Then he leaves, door swinging behind him, and a cloud of stream wafts above the coffee mug.
Sif finds Loki spread on the porch swing in front of his house, green eyes following a moth waltzing in between the porch lights. His iPod blares a pulse of loud beats - she can hear the rhythm from only two steps away.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
Loki's eyes flicker to her face, and something like a smile travels across his mouth. "Yes. Of course." He pulls himself up, porch swing swaying behind him like a pendulum. He shoulders his backpack, and they both walk side-by-side across the pavement.
"Thor's at the bus stop already," he says, slowly.
He's testing her. What an ass.
"I don't wake up as early," Sif says shortly.
"Neither do I," Loki says - she knows, she knows, but it's another confirmation of boundaries.
When they're not with Thor, they're with each other. That's really how it's usually gone, all these years. It's strange, it's weird, it's not normal.
Loki's been going out of his way to avoid Thor these days, so they're kinda at a dead end. It's hard to hang out with Loki without making it somehow about Thor.
But it's okay. Sif thinks it can be more than that - it has been more than that - because she knows Loki's favorite bands and his favorite books, she knows that he smiles around that jackass Tony Stark and that he doesn't want to be better than Thor, not really, he just wants to be seen as his equal.
"What're you reading?"
Loki looks up from his book - it's lunch period, and he's curled up on the stones ringed around the rose planters in the middle of the quad. He doesn't eat in the cafeteria; he eats out here instead. He'd just finished his meal a minute ago.
He bookmarks his page and sticks out the cover so the title is visible.
"Peter Pan, huh?" Tony Stark says. "You're really that dedicated to the play?"
"Research," Loki says, "and appreciation. Your friend Pepper did an amazing job combining the book details into the play. I thought it'd be interesting to see the extent of her work."
He pulls himself up into a sitting position, stretching languidly. The weather is pleasantly warm today - the stones he's sitting on have sucked in the sunlight, and it feels good against his skin.
Loki's semi-aware of Tony's approving eyes. He allows Tony a look, smirking slightly, and then he relaxes. "So you haven't read it?" he says, vaguely chiding.
"I've watched the Disney movie."
"Well," Loki concedes, "I guess you'd rather focus on the acting than any tedious fact checking."
"Wrong, actually," Tony says triumphantly, as if he'd been waiting for Loki to slip up. "My agent wants me to audition for this upcoming movie called The Lost Hero. It'll be my first major role if I get the part. I actually read the book because I want to get the character work done right."
Loki's eyebrows crawl upwards in disbelief. "The sequel to the Percy Jackson movies?"
"That's the one. I'm s'posed to be Jason."
"Stark..."
"Yeah?"
"I don't know what to think of this casting choice."
"Well, who'd you rather I be? Piper or Leo? There's no other roles that'll fit. And I can't wait for The Red Pyramid either - same deal."
Loki stares at Tony with a bemused expression. "You seem very much more of a reader than I first thought you'd be, Stark."
"Call me Tony," he says smoothly. "And come on, Bruce is my best pal, and he's a total geek. Not my fault some of his geekiness rubbed off on me." Tony wrinkles his nose. "Ew. That sounds wrong."
"Tony, then," Loki says, eyes crinkling into an almost-wink. Who would've thought?
Perhaps Tony shares his taste in films.
Tony blinks. "Y-yeah. Thanks. Oh, I wanted to tell you something. You can come to a party at my house tomorrow after the play. There's a spot open for you in my limo."
"Thank you," Loki says, and he's sincere. Then he remembers Sif: black hair tucked in a ponytail, a tight line across her mouth when she turns to him in the morning sunlight; he thinks of the look in her eyes earlier today. "Can I invite a friend of mine? It's Sif, the narrator."
"No worries. There's plenty of room. See ya there."
Loki nods, and Tony walks away, flipping his hand back at Loki in farewell.
After school, Tony lets Bruce off by the small convenience store near Avengers High. The place isn't big: it's called Shield Shop Stop, and Jarvis eases the car across three? four? parking spaces. Bruce walks into the store, bells rattling as he opens the glass door.
"Hey, Phil," he says to the guy at the cash register.
"Hey, Bruce," Coulson says. His family owns the store.
Clint and Natasha are here, too, lounging by the magazine stand (right next to the candy rack) and speaking softly to each other in hushed voices. Phil keeps glancing at them warily every few seconds; Bruce wonders if the rumors really are true.
He reminds himself to ask Coulson later.
Bruce tugs open the glass fridge, removing an orange soda. Tony's actually run out of them in his car, and anyways, he'd like to have some candy. It's Friday - so, hey, might as well. He picks an almond Hershey bar from the candy rack, and Clint and Natasha fall silent.
"Hey, guys," Bruce says awkwardly.
Natasha tilts her head in greetings, and Clint makes this wincing face that's probably supposed to be a grin. They huddle closer together.
However, it's a blessed moment later when Tony bursts into the store, peeking at the candy rack through his sunglasses. "Bruce, get me some gum, will you?"
"You go get it yourself."
"It's just right there."
"Exactly. Closer to you."
"Tony..."
"Fine, fine." Tony scoops a pack of Wrigley's into his hands. "So, how's Happy Threesome Times at the Shield Stop Shop?"
"Tony!" Bruce snaps. He delivers a this-really-might-be-serious face to his friend, because really? If Phil's having honest-to-god relationship problems, then he's having honest-to-god relationship problems. End of story.
"Sorry," Tony says, and it looks like he's actually guilty this time. Since Natasha had sent him her best scorching evil eyes his way; Clint seemed like he wanted to turn his archery hobby into a hunt; and Coulson had looked like a combination of the two, which, hey, is rather fitting.
"Let's just go, okay?" Bruce says, steering Tony to the register. "I'm paying this time. You always spend a ridiculously high amount of money on me - I owe you."
"It was the complete Star Trek seasons, Bruce, nothing in the world could ever serve as repayment for that. So the best repayment is no repayment. Because it's a gift. From God. But it's also a gift, so."
Sorry about him, Bruce mouths to Coulson, pointing an accusing finger at Tony where Tony doesn't notice him. Tony's currently locked in a staring contest with a faded Uncle Sam poster, fingers adjusting his sunglasses downwards so that he's eye-and-eye with the picture.
Coulson merely frowns, and Bruce sighs.