It's shorter! And happy! Wow.

Do enjoy, my lovely followers, reviewers, and ghostly visitors. I love you all.

xoxox

Howard sat in his big executive chair behind his big executive desk, zoning out and staring at the sprawling New York City view spanning his glass wall. He had had this desk and this office and this luxury for many years, since right before Tony was born and the company took off like a rocket. It had been during those early years of his son's life that he had devoted his all to this business. It had become his obsession, his pulse, his life. The company had consumed him, like a Venus Flytrap. He supposed, if he had been honest with himself, that was one of the reasons they were so estranged today. Because he didn't understand his prodigy, his heir, the little piece of himself and Maria that was flying off the handle and spinning into a downward spiral. Or maybe he had been coming undone for a long time, and Howard was just now starting to pay attention.

Stane was pacing in front of his desk, fury obvious on his face. But Howard wasn't really too sure he cared. This whole idea had been wrong from the start, and he knew it. But now, his partner was becoming a little unhinged. If Howard had been a lesser man, it might have scared him. But he was Howard Stark, the only thing that scared him was God. Because, if he was facing facts- which he seemed to be doing today, for once- he knew he had a lot of things to answer for, a lot of explaining to do when he got to those pearly gates.

"I told you, to stay away from him." Stane finally faced him, grey eyes blazing, bald head shining, face red. Howard looked at him dully, not really caring if the man reached across the desk and strangled him. "This is bad, Howard. If he figures out it was you and me behind the all of this, he'll really ruin you." A hand on each end of his desk, leaning down to be eyeball-to-eyeball with him, Obadiah Stane really was an intimidating man.

But Howard couldn't find it in him to care.

The end was nigh.

Frigga sat silently, patiently listening to her husband's weary voice as he explained what had happened a month ago. Her hands folded in her lap, the stoic lady she had been raised and molded to be. But what only Odin knew, was that she had a temper like no lady had ever had, she was a warrioress. And that's why they fit so well together. Both royalty in their own right, but warriors, leaders, survivors. But what had she now to fight for, but her sons? And if she must fight against her biggest ally, she would.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what came over me. You know how he makes me." Odin shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

Frigga narrowed her eyes. Her fingers clenched into fists. "Yes, husband, I do. But, I expected you to act like a grown man who was in charge of himself. I expected you to put your son over your own feelings." Her voice was a lethal weapon in and of itself. Odin looked wary. "That boy is our son. Whether you want to believe that or not. He was not a bartering tool. He is our child, you old goat. And you will treat him as such, or so help me, god, you will be sorry." She was pretty sure that if her glare had been any more on fire, Odin would've burst into flames right there in front of her.

Odin scowled. "He's an insolent bastard. You know how he is, Frigg. I will not take such disrespect!" He slammed his fist down on the table between them. She didn't jolt. She was used to his explosions and outbursts.

A vein jumped in her forehead. "Leave him alone, Odin." She glared directly into his one crystal blue eye.

God help him if he ignored her warning.

The first thing Loki noticed, was the heaviness in his chest. Anthony was probably about to show him something that could fuck with both of them. But he trusted the boy, he knew that if Anthony showed him this, he needed to see it. And yeah, he was a tiny bit pissed that Stark had kept this from him for months- but there are concessions given to those we love. So, Loki let it pass...for now.

The second thing he noticed was the wildness in Stark's eyes. A feral fear, a flight-or-fight mode. And it was all directed at him. Anthony was scared of him.

The third thing, was love. He could feel love from himself, and from Stark. They had passed over some sort of thresh-hold into a whole different relationship than they had first been in. Because, yes, Loki was still a brash, acerbic misanthrope. And yes, Stark was still an addict, and afraid of commitment, and a little bit unstable. But here they were. A year later, and things were okay. A little shaky, and not really on the most solid of grounds, but okay nonetheless.

"I'm scared you'll leave. I'm scared you'll...be repulsed by me. Or, or, think...something worse." The words were uttered by a shaky voice and a deep, husky tone. The tears on his face weren't hidden. And this was big, this was unprecedented. Anthony Stark was admitting to being afraid. And while the admission was new and rare and something like this would never happen again, the words cut through Loki like a knife. Because of all the people in the world that Stark should be afraid, Loki wasn't one of them.

He leaned forward, their noses almost touching, but didn't touch him. Stark was like a bomb, one wrong move and they were goners. "Darling, I'm never going to leave you. I won't think anything bad. You can trust me." His voice was low and soothing, that same calm, neutral tone he had used with Thor that time he almost beat a boy to death for hitting Loki. Mmhmm. Thor had been a bit overprotective.

Fun Fact #13: Loki has always been a bit like his brother's handler. No one could calm the big blond like he could, and after a while, everyone had given up even trying.

Stark's hand clenched on his chest. Loki could see the dull gleam of metal through his fingers. Something warm and apprehensive stirred in his stomach. If it weren't for the look on Anthony's face, he would have gotten up and walked a few feet away. This was too close, Stark was too close. But he stayed, letting this aura of fear and secrets and passion and amor pretty much suffocate him. They needed this. They needed to go through this, together, side-by-side.

"Promise?" The bigger, stronger man's voice was shaking, barely a whisper. To be honest, Loki could hardly see through the sheen of tears to witness Stark's desperate, wide eyes. He blinked, letting the tears fall unabashedly.

"Cross my heart." He smiled, pleased that the action was mirrored on the other boy's face.

Stark took a deep breath, then let his hand fall. Something blue glowed, reflecting off their eyes as Loki took it all in. There was a metal circle in Anthony's chest, with blue lines thrumming within it. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie, like a prop, like it wasn't real and if he reached out and touched it, he would find that there was no power. It was just a toy, it wasn't stuck in Anthony's chest, it wasn't keeping him alive. It couldn't be because this wasn't possible.

He looked up into brown eyes that were almost melting. "That-that's keeping you alive?" He asked, his voice cracking from an amalgamation of awe and disbelief. And a little bit of uncertainty, perhaps.

Stark nodded. "If someone took it out of my chest, I'd been dead in ten, fifteen minutes- tops. Heart attack, y'know." He shrugged, his eyes still wild and still glued to Loki like they had been since he started talking.

Loki ran a hand back through his hair, feeling the comfort and familiarity of it's cool silk between his fingers. At a moment like this, Loki was his own anchor to reality and the hard, sometimes painful, truth. There was strength in knowing you were real, you were alive, you weren't bleeding or dying. At times, it was best to put things in perspective.

Loki reached out and gently ran his finger around the metal rim. It was warm and sent sparks of energy shooting up his arm. A shaky breath hissed in and out of his mouth.

"I-I don't expect anything of you, Loki." Stark's voice was low, almost inaudible. Loki looked up, brown eyes were averted and gazing over the blue-grey sky above. "You didn't sign up for this. And I understand if you don't want to stick around. I won't try to stop you if you get up and walk out. It's okay. I understand." His voice was dull, carefully devoid of emotion.

Loki smirked. "You didn't sign up for any of my problems either, Anthony. Nobody ever volunteers for the bad sides of life." He leaned up to kiss the man on the cheek. "I'm just happy you're alive. And if this is what keeps you that way..." He bit his lip, inhaling machine oil, cigarette smoke, alcohol tainted Anthony. Brown eyes now so close that he could see lines of hazel and blue and green running through their irises. Muddy hair that curled around his face like feathers. This was the man he loved. Each and every piece of him.

He leaned down to press a kiss to the arc reactor. Stark made a startled noise in the back of his throat when Loki's lips were immediately on his, pressing him back into the edge of the roof. Calloused fingers pushed his up into his hair, curling around it possessively. Everything was Anthony, Anthony, Anthony. Their lips lazily locked, their fingers gripping and holding tightly enough that no one could break them away, their bangs curling together in a perfect mix of ink and mud.

"We're going be okay, Anthony." He breathed, their lips still brushing together. He could feel warm breath tickling across his chin and lips.

"I know." Hands squeezed his waist, thumbs hooked around pelvic bones and pressing into his Adonis lines.

Loki was practically purring, because Stark's hands were moving all over him in exactly the ways he wanted, landing precisely where he needed them to. His breath hitched when Anthony pulled him into his lap, circling his arms around Loki's waist and running firm fingertips up his backbone. And he may have had just the teensiest fetish, because it felt like electricity sparked under those calloused fingers. It didn't go unnoticed. A grin curled beneath his own lips, and a hand slipped under his shirt, fingers pressing up each vertebrae slowly. Loki growled, moving to attack Stark's neck with quick kisses and sharp, short bites.

His mind was in a haze, because he hadn't been this close or touched this way in too long. Since...the unmentionable. He hated him, hated his name, hated what he had done to him. Loki had shut down and cut off all contact with humanity- after a short spurt of casual, one-night-stand, raged fucks. He had been animalistic, and it had been well-received. Considering the way his body was reacting, and the way Stark was starting to dig his nails into his skin, well- Loki hadn't lost his touch.

Fun Fact #14: Before Thanos- and, as aforementioned, after Thanos, for a short time- Loki was incredibly active sexually. He saw no harm in getting his rocks off, as long as no one was emotionally involved and protection was used. Life is short, and pleasure rare. Might as well get it when and where and how you can.

"Loki?" Anthony's voice was breathy and ragged. Loki rolled his eyes back in his head, licking a rather dark bruise forming from his sharp, canine teeth.

"Mmm?" Like he was paying attention. -snort- Hardly. Loki tended to revert back to his former tendencies- or so he was finding- and go back to shutting down, turning everything off, and focusing on just letting pleasure flood his body.

"Where are you?" Hands encircled his shoulders, holding him back gently.

Gently. Someone was touching him gently. Anthony was holding him. Anthony wanted him. Him. Not just a body, not just something to fuck. It made his head spin. "I...I'm sorry. It's been a while since I did, er, this." He could practically feel the confusion on his face.

Being wanted, it was a new experience.

"Let's go to my apartment." Anthony smiled prettily. Oh, gods, Loki's mental capacity has been diminished to one thought. And one only.

Tony pushed open the door, crowding Loki back, over the thresh-hold and into the apartment. Keys hit the floor, door kicked closed behind him, quickly pulling Loki's jacket (his, which he had 'left' at Loki's dorm a few weeks ago, and yeah, it gave him an immensely satisfied feeling to know Loki was wearing it) down his arms and letting it drop to the floor. Guiding him into the bedroom with hands tight on his hips, and yes, Tony was about to lose his fucking mind because hormones galore. But it was more than that. It was what this meant. That Loki was his, really his, for real. This wasn't iffy, a maybe, a perhaps-in-the-future. No. This was happening. Right now.

And maybe that's the thought that made him stop, right as they fell onto the bed, bodies fitting together perfectly and Loki's hands tangled in his hair in a way that made him fucking crazy.

He was about to do it with a boy.

Like.

A male.

The same gender as himself.

And yes, he had a boner, and yes he wanted to do this, but there was this little voice in his head chirping 'But this is gay! You're straight, Tony!'. Of course, angel that he is, Loki noticed immediately and pulled back.

"What's wrong, love?" A thumb brushed his bangs back, off his forehead. The touch sent a soft promise through his skin and into his veins and pumped through his heart. 'I won't hurt you. This is okay. Forget everything, and I promise you'll never regret us.'

"Nothing, I just..." He trailed off, rolling off Loki and onto his back. Light streamed through the window and hit his eyes. -squint-

"You're realizing what's happening." The saturnine teen sat up, shoving ruffled, feathery black tresses back. They were tangled and looked barbaric from the treatment Tony's fingers had mindlessly given them. He couldn't resist smiling. "I know it's," Loki's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Different. New. A little scary." He chuckled. "But it doesn't change you, Anthony." God he loved the sound of his name on those lips. "You're still you. And I'm sure you haven't lost your attraction to Playboy bunnies." A smirk played with bitten pink. "But you, the real you, hasn't changed at all. Nor will it if we have sex."

Tony stared up at him, taking in every inch of him. Perfect body, delicate face, pale skin, inky curls, curiously bitten nails, scars tracing up and down his forearms.

In .05 seconds flat, Tony had him pinned to the bed.

Loki was laughing. Tony knew that much. And yeah, his head was fucking pounding. But after a few minutes of that perfect sound- a hymn of the angels- he was pretty sure it would abate. The bed moved. His bed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but his jeans still hugged his waist tightly. His underwear...were in a, er, uncomfortable state. -cough cough-

"Staaaark." A pretty voice whispered, teasing. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine." And it all came flooding back.

"Can I please be let go, now? I need a shower. Or...underwear." Loki just sounded irritated. Tony loved it. Loved. His bitchy babe was back.

"No." He growled, cozying up to the seemingly boneless teenager beside him. Mmm, he smelled so good. All peppermint and winter and clean like ice.

"Please?" Velleity colored his voice.

Tony grinned against a pale, wintry expanse of skin. He could feel the rumble of Loki's post-sex voice. Well, almost sex.

"No." He giggled, winding his arms even tighter around his boyfriend's ribcage. "What does this mean?" He murmured, feeling his mood shift from passive humor to arbitrary sobriety.

Loki shifted languidly in his arms. "I think...it means..." He ran a hand over his face. "I think it means we're...fixing each other." Oh, god bless their avoidance of all things committal.

"'Fixing each other.'" He repeated softly. "I like it." He grinned, leaning up on one elbow and looking down into Loki's emerald-sea eyes. They glittered happily. Happy. Loki was happy.

He opened his eyes, blinking and grimacing against the light of day. Dear god, how long had they been sleeping. What was school. What was college. Did these things exist in the orbit of Loki and Tony? I think not.

"What year is it?" He took in what he was looking at and laughed. "Oh my god. Your hair." He snickered. Loki arched an eyebrow that vowed retribution.

"It's your fault. You and your wandering hands." He slapped at Tony when he reached for a long, kinky curl to pull. Green eyes tried to affect an unimpressed look. They failed. Because Loki was happy and Tony couldn't get over that wondrous fact.

"I like it." He sat up, framing Loki's face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together. "I like you." He breathed, taking a moment to just inhale Loki. Because, really, even coffee can't beat the smell of winter in the morning. Especially when it's Winter-reincarnate in a lithe, sullen teenage boy who suddenly can't stop smiling.

"I like you too, you silly man." Loki bumped their noses together, then pulled back. "It's the year 2013, and we're late for class. As in, ridiculously late." Loki leapt off the bed, his t-shirt too big and his boxers too long- god damn it, Tony's got his mind in the gutter again. "Have you ever heard of an alarm clock?" He smirked at Tony.

"No, what are those? They sound heinous." A t-shirt hit him in the face.

"Get dressed." A shirtless Loki. In Tony's apartment. In his bedroom. In front of him. To say his mind was wandering was probably the understatement of the year. "Anthony?" A hand waved in front of his face.

Snap back to reality. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming." He sluggishly dragged himself from bed as Loki made himself presentable- in Tony's clothes. Yeah, he may have a thing for seeing the teeny tiny, way too tall teen in his clothes. Maybe because they were so obviously his- did Loki even own anything red?- or maybe it was just the feeling that Loki was finally so comfortable with him that he didn't hesitate to steal Tony's shit- although, let's face it, Loki's been doing this since the first time they went out, and that wasn't even a date-, or maybe it was just knowing Loki was his that made everything so much more satisfactory.

He was sprawled across the living room floor when Loki bounced out, damp hair braided down his back- with just a few strands curling around his face too sexily to be real- and Tony's t-shirt hanging a good two inches above Loki's skinny jeans. -gulp- "Hey, there, sexy." He purred, jumping to his feet.

Loki looked at him with thinly veiled seduction. "We have to leave." Uh huh, keep this up and you ain't goin' nowhere, Loki.

"But, Lo-Lo, I wanna stay home and do bad, bad things to you." Tony's voice had dropped to that low growl he reserved for those times he, uh, wanted, er, things.

A throaty giggle tickled his ears. "No. Let's go."

Then he was off, breezing out of the apartment, leaving Tony to merely follow with a lecherous grin and a wayward hand around Loki's waist.

It's short. It's happy. Nothing to hate. Right? No? Wrong? Ok.

Pahlease review, my loves. Tell me if this is better, if you miss the angst, if someone else should get their ass whooped. And yeah, yeah, yeah, all shall be revealed in due time as far as Howard and Stane- although ya'll can probably guess what's gonna happen.

So much fluff. -horrified shiver-

Hope you enjoyed! *whispers* Review?

xoxox

P.S. I shall be answering your reviews soon. Sorry, I kind of fell down on the job, but...wow. Life. Man. Ya never know what's gonna happen next.