So. Much. Fluff. Do enjoy my relatively happy chapter. It's a rare thing to see. And obviously the result of a lack of sleep ;).

xoxox

"I feel as though me and my life out to be wrapped up in caution tape and tied with a pretty bow. Like a warning to all who wish to get close to me." Loki drawled, sipping tequila and looking a little dazed.

And damn, he did know how that felt. It had been a constant thought on his mind during high school. There had been the joke amongst his friends that he was the corrupter of the group. Certainly, that wasn't a lie, but it was hurtful. Maybe, in some twisted way, Tony had done his best to live up to the teasing. Maybe he wanted to be that bad influence. Maybe, he wanted to be bad enough that no one would want to be close to him. He was self-destructing, he had been for years; and now, no one wanted to get close enough to get any on them when he detonated.

"Why?" He sipped his drink, eyes never really leaving Loki's slumped form beside him. He looked like hell. When the boy had walked in, Tony almost hadn't recognized him.

Clothes rumpled, hair windblown, red-ringed dull eyes, and a bandage clinging desperately to his burned arm. Tony had never seen Loki look like such a mess. Hot, but a mess nonetheless. The teenager looked like he had been dragged through hell by his toenails. The exhausted way he held himself and the expression of pain on his face was burnt into Tony's mind. He couldn't blink without seeing the boy he had been fascinated with for months, looking like he had just had his heart run over by a truck. Absently, he rubbed his chest, his lungs felt tight.

Loki scowled down at his drink. "Well, my family is turning me into a complete psycho. That's why I refused to move in with Thor! If I live with him...I'll lose my mind. What little is left of my sanity is draining away by the minute." He growled, a storm flashing dangerously in his eyes. "I can't believe Odin even said that to me, but while I'm in the hospital...that's just too low. I thought he...had some sense of, I don't know, humanity about him. It was like kicking me when I was already down." The skinny teenager hunched his shoulders, looking about ready to fold in on himself like a cheap suit. "What did I do to make him hate me, Stark? Am I so awful?" For the first time all night, Loki drove his green-eyed gaze straight into Tony. It felt like someone had stabbed him with a harpoon.

Anxiously, Tony shoved his hair off his face. "It's not your fault, hun. He's just a dick." He shrugged, wishing he was just the teensiest bit better at this stuff. "Like, my dad has a...somewhat illogical, but still valid, reason for hating me. Odin has no reason to hate you. You're...perfect. So you have fuckin' gorgeous black hair instead of blond. So you have emerald's for eyes instead of their blue. Blue is so ordinary! You can find blue eyes all over the place. But I've never seen eyes like yours." He stopped himself, he was rambling...and blushing. "Anyways, Odin isn't worth your pain. Trust me, I've met the dude." He rolled his eyes, thinking back to the party where his ear had been talked off by the white-haired man with an eye-patch. Ugh. Just thinking about it made him want to claw his eardrums out.

Loki gazed at him delicately. "You really think all of that?" His voice sounded odd. There was something...off. Tony just didn't know what it was yet.

He nodded. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. You may not have noticed, but comforting people really isn't my forte." He smirked, throwing up the mask of indifference and playboy, I-couldn't-care-less attitude.

Green eyes dug into his, it felt like the boy had a straight line to his soul. And it hurt, to be seen so openly, to be so metaphorically naked in front of this kid he barely knew. But at the same time, it felt like something new. Like Tony was healing by helping this overly-wounded, beaten down, broken boy. They were a little bit of the same, right now. Both trying desperately to get their head above water all by themselves, but needing help. And maybe, in each other, they would find that helping hand. Someone who understood them almost better than they understood themselves. No one understood Tony, no one had even tried to in a very long time. Loki was different. He listened. And Tony would do the same for him.

"Hmm. You're surprisingly good at it." The remark caught Tony off-guard. "I've never been that good at sympathy either. I've felt it for very few people. You're one of those people. Sometimes, that's just the way it goes. It's how we're wired, you and me." He shrugged. "Most act as if that's deplorable, that we should all have a bleeding heart for the world. I digress. I think that's silly and...for most, impossible." The intelligence firing through his eyes added lightning to the storm raging in green irises. "Or maybe we were both just raised by cold-hearted assholes who didn't teach us anything but to be cold-hearted assholes." He sighed.

Tony blinked.

"I like the first opinion better." He grinned, tugging on a lock of silky black hair. "Besides, if I am going to be an icy bastard, it wont be because of my dad. I'll never be anything like him. Never." The look Loki gave him proved that the boy felt the same way about his own 'father'.

"Have you spoken to Howard since the fire?" Loki allowed Tony to twirl his hair around his finger, the silken feeling making chills race up and down his backbone.

They were leaning closer to each other now, the alcohol making them less cautious, less afraid. Tony was losing himself deep in those green eyes and the movements of Loki's lips. He didn't care what this meant. He didn't care that Loki was a boy and it had been pounded into his head that he was straight from the moment he walked out of the womb. Loki was gorgeous.

"Mmm, no." He shook his head, frowning. "His, uh, right-hand man at the company called me. That's how I found out about the fire. Then Pepper, my dad's secretary called me to make sure I was okay. Apparently, my dad did care and was worried. But, Pepper tends to tell me stuff like that just to make me feel better." The conversation with Pepper hadn't really been enjoyable, but these days, they never were. She was just too worried.

Loki patted his hand. "She cares. It's sweet." He shrugged. "She sounds like Thor, though. He's always swearing that Odin cares and that he'll come around or that I'm just being too hard on the man. It drives me crazy." He snarled, looking down at his drink again. A good portion of that drink found its way down his throat.

Tony sighed. "I think we both got the worst dads on the planet." He declared dramatically.

Beside him, Loki snickered. "Maybe not the worst. But pretty close." He turned on his stool to place his back against the bar and watch the young adults slightly older than them out on the dance floor. Tony studied his profile.

"You're really gorgeous." He murmured, not really caring whether Loki heard him or not. Judging by how fast his head whipped to look at Tony, he had heard. "I'm jus sayin'." He looked down, those eyes burning him alive.

A hand came up to turn his face back towards Loki's. "Do you really mean that?" The softness in Loki's voice was enough to make him want to turn into a big, mushy puddle. Damn, the things this kid did to him. He nodded, a little too dazed to say anything intelligent, like, y'know, 'yes.' "You are a rare man, Stark. I never really know what to think of you." The proud, arrogant boy he had known for months on end, gone. Loki was letting his walls down.

Watching his red lips move as he spoke, Tony wanted very much to kiss Loki Odinson.

Shit.

Loki was trying very hard not to kiss Stark. That was a bad, bad, bad idea. But, oh, it was such a tantalizing idea too. And he could see exactly what those brown eyes were focused on. Stark wanted the same thing. Probably. Or he was drunk off his ass and was just staring at whatever caught his attention.

This is why Loki stopped drinking.

Fun Fact #5: Loki's a flirty drunk. Which used to get him laid quite a bit more than he liked to admit.

"You, uh, you wanna...uh, dance?" Stark was leaning closer. That wasn't intentional, surely. Maybe Loki should move back...so why didn't he?

"Sure." He smiled prettily. Stark licked his own lips, then pulled back and held out his hand. Loki took it.

The feeling of Stark's hands was a bit different than any other man he had ever held hands with. For one thing, Anthony slid his fingers between Loki's immediately. Loki doubted the man even considered that that wasn't generally the way it worked. Not in Loki's world. It was too intimate, for goodness's sake. For another, there were callouses and scars and a working roughness to his hands that was distinctly out of place in the rich upper class circles they were part of. Even Loki's hands were soft, smooth around the edges. The contrast was intriguing. It made him want to sit down and demand to know what each little scar was from, the story behind every callous. The reason his fingernails were dyed that hideous tint of brown. Why he kept his nails cut so ridiculously short. He wanted to know it all.

On the dance floor, he and Stark got their limbs moving and their blood pumping quickly. He almost couldn't help giggling when Stark started goofing off, trying to get a laugh out of him with corny 90's dance moves. He even moonwalked, sending Loki into a fit of giggles before he was swept into strong arms and swung around wildly. No one could make him feel this free. Not a soul in the world.

And would you look at that, Anthony Stark was just what he needed to make Odin fade into a long-lost memory. With Anthony, he wasn't an orphan, or adopted, or too different, or a freak, or that emo kid, or a self-harmer, or anorexic, or inadequate. He was just Loki. He just...fit. Everything clicked into place, every bad memory was erased, every tear-jerking moment was gone.

After a few songs, they dragged back to the bar, gulping down two drinks in quick succession. By now, Loki was practically dripping off Stark's shoulder, and a strong arm was hooked around his waist. The warmth coming off the engineer's feverishly hot body was almost as intoxicating as the vodka. The smell of motor oil and long nights and whiskey made his head spin. The brown eyes that dared to look directly into his, sent him reeling.

Something had changed.

Loki was okay with that.

They stumbled out of the bar giggling. Loki was holding onto Stark for dear life, because if he let go, he was fairly sure he would fall unceremoniously on his ass. The compact man beside him, however, was perfectly steady on his feet. Either he hadn't drank nearly as much as Loki, or Loki was embarrassingly incapable of holding his liquor like he used to. At least he didn't feel nauseated. Yet.

"I still can't believe you told that girl that her mother was a MILF." Stark was cackling rabidly beside him. "I mean, she was already ogling you, Lo-Lo." He stopped walking to take a calming breath.

Loki feigned indignation. "She was hot! Gods, this is what happens when I get drunk, Stark!" He broke his charade to smile at the giggling man beside him. Apparently, Stark had his moments when he was the exact opposite of a depressed drunk.

"That, and you fall asleep in bed with me!" Stark sang, teasing him and tickling his sides playfully.

Loki started howling, laughing freely for the first time in far too long. "Stop! P-please, Stark!" He bent, trying to wiggle out of Stark's wickedly tight embrace. But the man was far too interested in making him laugh and squeal to let up. And he didn't, until Loki's sides were hurting and he was panting like a dog.

They were face-to-face, now, Loki leaning against the pint-size genius and trying desperately to catch his breath. It seemed impossible with those lips so close, the smell of the man so strong and intoxicating. He could barely hold on to his frenetic thoughts enough to keep himself from kissing him right then, right there. Stark's eyes were somewhere around his mouth, brown eyes turning into molten gold, desire screaming from them. He could feel the strong hands on his back, holding him upright.

Loki had never felt this way. It was like walking off a cliff. There was no controlling it, no shoving it into place, no organizing and orchestrating things like he usually did. This wasn't the same as all the relationships he had had before. The no-strings-attached, fuck-buddy boyfriends and girlfriends he had had in the past. Those were flings, relationships he had never cared about, bridges he had burned zealously, because he wanted no reminder of them. He didn't even remember the name of the girl he lost his virginity to. Or anything about her except that she was blonde. The perks of being drunk.

"Are you going to just stare at me, or do something?" He teased, smiling when brown eyes shot to his, wide and surprised.

"H-how...You mean, you want me to...kiss you?" Apparently, Stark was having a hard time remembering the English language. Loki smirked. Man, it felt good to be wanted.

Sure, he was vulnerable, drunk, hurting. But Loki didn't drown himself in sex and booze to get over things. Or, he had. But he wasn't this time. This feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't going to go away in a few days. Or hours. It wasn't going to fade with his hangover. The attitude would come back, but he sincerely adored Anthony Stark. And wasn't that scary.

"Yes, Anthony. I do." And wow, could those brown eyes look any deeper into his soul? But he had a good idea of what Stark was searching for. "You're hesitating. Why?" There were many different reasons why Stark could be reluctant to give in, to kiss him.

a) He had never been with a man, that Loki knew for sure.

b) Loki was vulnerable.

c) Loki was drunk.

d) Despite the rumors, Stark was a gentleman.

e) Their homophobic fathers.

f) They were both extremely volatile, intelligent, and slightly dramatic. If they did date, the break-up would make Chernobyl look like an amateur pipe bomb.

Stark chose letters b, c, and d. "It's just, you're wasted and the whole thing with your...family...I don't want to take advantage of you." The pink that tinged his cheekbones made Loki want to spend the night in his bed. He inwardly groaned. As wonderful and charming as chivalry was, it sure was a cockblock.

"Darling, trust me, I'm the last man you could take advantage of. Just ask Thor." He winked, getting his point across. Stark blanched. "But, he's out of my life now. I've always made my own choices, Anthony. This being one of them. I won't wake up in the morning regretting anything. Will you?"

A/N: It's shortish. Gah. Okay. A few little things to say.

Uno- I have started another story. A Joker/Batman thing. Please check it out if you're a fan ;). I'm in desperate need of some criticism on that story. It's driving me cuckoo. Anyways, if I don't update as often on here, I'm so,so,so sorry! xoxo

Dos- I'm so lost on this site. I have no idea how to respond to the lovely reviews I get! I adore you allllllll. An especial shoutout to Arianissa! Your reviews make my day. You have no idea.
I really do love reviews. Thank you all so much for taking the time to say something about what I've written. As an aspiring author, it really makes my day to see that someone has enjoyed something I've written. So, hugs and kisses to you all -muah!-

Three- Yeah, I forgot how to spell 'three' in Spanish. Meh. Anywho, I don't really know a whole helluva lot about comics. If there's anyone you guys might want to see in this fanfiction, feel free to tell me about them, and I'll look into 'em. Specially bad guys. I have a soft spot for villains, and Odin and Howard can't be the antagonists forever. So, shoot me some suggestions for baddies ;).

Gracias, and see you next time, xoxox