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Turns out this whole parenting thing is a lot harder than it looks. Which is saying something because it never looked particularly easy when it was something you planned for. When you don't plan for it, however, and when a half-grown child just falls into your lap, well, difficult would be putting it lightly.
Still, Thor's trying his best, and, sure, it's not going as smoothly as he would like, but it could probably be going a lot worse. He let Love paint her room that awful shade of pink that will definitely cost him his security deposit, enrolled in the best school he could find, and pulled some strings (i.e. – he called Brunnhilde) to get her into a decent soccer program.
That last one is the most important bit because Love, as it turns out, takes soccer way too seriously.
So three times a week, he gets off work early and picks up this tiny, sweaty, dirty child and listens to her ramble on and on about how practice went. Usually she is excited and going a million miles a minute. Other times she's exhausted and slurs her words so bad he isn't quite sure what exactly she's saying. But one thing remains constant across the board: the absolute contempt she has for some kid named Axl.
"I'm going to destroy him," Love informs Thor once, mouth half full of chicken nuggets, "Even if it's the last thing I do."
He nods along supportively. He's sure she will.
The first game of the season isn't really a game so much as a little show off for all the parents. It helps the kids get used to playing with an audience too, Brunnhilde had explained. At that age they can be the best players in practice and then freeze up the second a parent is watching.
Not Love, of course. If anything Thor suspects she becomes more aggressive with an audience. Especially when she nearly tackles a slightly older boy on the same team as her, who Thor has to assume is Axl.
He should probably say something about that, he thinks. Remind her about the whole team aspect of a team sport. She can tackle him later, when they’re not playing.
Actually, scratch that last bit.
Thor’s going over his game plan, trying to figure out how exactly to make this into a parenting moment that won’t result in this tiny human becoming even more unnecessarily violent when suddenly the world comes to a halt – quite possibly literally – as a ridiculously attractive man walks past him. Broad shoulders, brown dreads, and eyes the color of honey. If tall, dark, and handsome were a person, he still wouldn’t be half as gorgeous as this man.
He might be the most beautiful person Thor's ever seen.
"Oi, you trying to catch flies?" Brunnhilde laughs, elbowing him in the gut. "Pick your jaw up."
He shoots her an annoyed look before he realizes that his mouth is, in fact, wide open. He shuts and then very casually and not at all awkwardly asks, "Who is he?"
She doesn't even need to follow his gaze to know. "Oh, him? That's Heimdall," she says casually. Pauses then, almost gleefully adds, "Axl's dad."
His head snaps back and he stares at her with wide eyes. "Please say you're kidding."
"Nope," she says with a grin far too mischievous for someone who is supposed to be his best friend. "Good luck with that one."
Yeah, he's going to need it.
Later when they're home and Love's showered and dressed in a hoodie three sizes too big for her (that’s also inside out and backwards), and Thor's halfway through his second attempt at boxed mac and cheese, he says, “I've been thinking about your little Axl problem,"
Love looks up from the math homework she’s begrudgingly working on and narrows her eyes at him as if she doesn’t trust him. As if he doesn’t have her best intentions in mind. Which he definitely does.
Sort of.
Maybe.
Okay, fine, that look is fair.
“What if,” he says totally casually, “You asked Axl to show you a few tricks?”
She glares. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Oi! Language!” he snaps. He waits for her to mumble her apology before he continues. “It’s a battle strategy. You observe him, figure out his secrets, and then destroy him. You know, that whole keep your enemies closer bit,” he explains, fully convinced that his perfectly sound logic will resonate with her. “So what do you say? Should I set up a practice session with Axl’s dad?”
“Uncle Thor,” she says in a way that’s eerily calm. “That is the dumbest idea I have ever heard in my life.”
Wow, rude.
The next day he wakes up and thinks maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. Was Heimdall attractive? Obviously. But maybe he wasn’t that attractive. Maybe it’s just been a while and Thor’s overreacting. Maybe he’ll see him again and it’ll be just fine. Like, he’ll be attractive but not insanely so. At least not hot enough to risk having to deal with Love hating him forever. Because there’s no way someone that good looking could possibly exist. Clearly it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
Except then he sees Heimdall three days later, grinning down at his son after practice, looking so annoyingly beautiful that Thor forgets to look where he’s going and quite literally walks face first into a brick wall.
And somewhere between the sounds of Brunnhilde and Love’s collective laughter, he realizes that no, he actually wasn’t being dramatic in the slightest.
“I’m in love,” he announces dramatically when Sif opens the door.
She raises a brow as he steps in, walking right past her and into her apartment. “‘Hi Sif. How are you?’ I’m great, Thor. Thanks for asking.”
“Not now, Sif,” he whines, collapsing onto her couch. “Can’t you see I’m having a crisis?”
She rolls her eyes. “I thought you were in love. How are you already having a crisis?”
“Because,” Brunnhilde says far too gleefully, appearing from god knows where. “He’s in love with Axl’s dad.”
Sif pauses for a beat. Then another. “Axl,” she says slowly, clearly putting the pieces together. “As in the kid Love hates?”
Thor groans, burying his face in a couch cushion. Brunnhilde tugs it out of his hands and replaces it with a beer. “Pretty sure he was planning a summer wedding before I broke the news.”
“Psh. No,” Thor says, offended by the mere idea. “Who wants a summer wedding? It was obviously spring.”
"You're so dramatic," Sif says, heading to the kitchen, clearly already fed up with him.
Thor glares after her. "How would you know? You haven't even seen him."
Brunnhilde laughs, "You haven’t even spoken to him.”
"Whose side are you even on?"
She just laughs.
The following week, after days of plotting and planning, Thor finally makes his move.
By which he means he clumsily forces his way next to Heimdall at the next game. He nearly knocks at least four sets of parents over in the process, which, in his defense, he does feel bad about. Not bad enough to miss his shot with Heimdall, of course. He’s on a mission.
Except then, once he’s there, standing next to the most gorgeous man in the entire universe, it occurs to Thor that he didn’t have a plan on what to do once he actually got to Heimdall. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he would even make it this far, convinced something or other would keep them apart like war-torn, star-crossed lovers. Which they basically are when you consider that their kids hate each other. What did Romeo and Juliet even have to deal with?
Yeah, okay, fine maybe they had it a little worse than him.
Where was he going with this again?
Right. Talking to Heimdall.
This is Important after all. First impressions and all. He needs to be cool and suave. Say something witty and clever, something Heimdall will remember. Something –
He doesn’t actually get to finish his inner monologue because Love, of course, chooses that moment to practically trip another child to get past her and score a goal. She grins big and proud, and immediately turns to make sure he saw.
Thor grins back, mostly proud. “Good job, Love!” he calls supportingly. And then once she’s looking away, mumbles, “I think.”
And then, to his shock, Heimdall laughs.
Well, okay, it isn’t so much a laugh as it is a little chuckle. An amused snort of sorts. And yeah, okay, a confused but supportive parent is not at all what Thor wanted his first impression to be, but he will take it.
Especially when Heimdall leans over and, voice deep and husk, says, “Yeah, it was a good shot.”
“Thanks,” Thor says. “I’m still figuring out this game. Soccer Isn't really my thing. I boxed back in my day.” Then adds, “I’m Thor, by the way.”
“Heimdall,” he says back, holding his hand out (!!!). Thor takes it and does his best to shake it a totally normal and not at all excessive amount. “Rugby was mine,” he explains. “But my ex used to play soccer so I suppose Axl gets it from her,“ he says and then nods in Love's direction as she steals the ball from another player on her own team. "Your kid's good."
"She's not my kid," Thor says quickly then realizes that doesn't make sense out of context because out of context he sounds like a weirdo randomly hanging out at a child's soccer game, which is a far worse alternative. "Well, she's mine in that I'm her legal guardian, but she's not mine mine if that's what you mean. I'm her godfather, not her father-father," he explains. Pauses. Then blurts, "I'm single."
"Mate," Heimdall says in a way that is unfairly attractive. "What?"
He doesn't know what's worse – the confused way Heimdall is looking at him or the way Brunnhilde is literally bent over laughing in the background.
“It was terrible,” he whines to Sif. “I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life.”
Sif rolls her eyes. “Stop being dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic!”
Brunnhilde plops down on the couch beside Sif, tossing her legs onto her girlfriend’s lap. “No, he’s right,” she says. “It was hilariously embarrassing. Mortifying, even.”
Thor glares. “Not helping, Brunn.”
“Aww, cheer up. You’ll come back from this, mate.”
He groans and buries his face in his hands.
When she gets in the car, Love slams the door shut and glares at him from the back seat. "Do you have a crush on Axl's dad?"
He doesn't look at her, pretending to focus on driving even though they're stuck in a line of cars all trying to get out of the school parking lot. "What? Psh. No. Why would you even think that?"
"Because that's what Auntie Brunn said."
Traitor.
As calmly and nonchalantly as possible, he asks, "Oh? What else did she say?"
"That you absolutely don't stand a chance because he's so much cooler than you."
His head whips back at her so fast that his hair dramatically flicks him in the face. Eyes widened in offense, he cries, “Brunn said that!? She's supposed to be on my side!"
Love glares. "Uncle Thor, Axl is my rival! Do you even know what that means!?" she demands. Doesn't wait for his answer. "It means you cannot date his dad!"
He bites his lip, trying to hide a grin. "Does that mean you think I have a chance?"
"Uncle Thor, if you date Axl's dad then I'm going to pour soup in all of your shoes."
That's not so bad. He can buy new shoes.
Thor wants to say that things get better from here, or at the very least they get easier. He wants to say that he gets used to how absurdly attractive Heimdall is, that he’s able to collect himself enough to remember how to properly have a conversation, much less flirt. He wants to say that he gets it together enough to make a good impression on Heimdall.
Except it seems the universe doesn’t much care about what Thor wants because things absolutely do not get easier as the season goes on.
They do, however, progress.
Somewhat.
Kind of.
At least to the degree that, after the third time Thor makes an excuse to stumble over to him, Heimdall begins saving Thor a seat at every game, clearly assuming they will sit together. Sometimes he even explains the game to Thor in technical terms that Thor’s sure he would actually understand if he wasn’t so damn distracted trying not to stare at his lips.
One time, for just a moment, he swears he catches Heimdall staring back.
He’ll never know for sure though, because in that exact moment the ball comes flying off the field and in the direction, crashing into Thor’s shins in a way he’s sure is probably going to leave a bruise. When he looks back up at the field, he sees Love looking at him with her hands on her hips.
“Whoops,” she says, barely even feigning innocence.
This child will be the end of him, he swears.
“You did that on purpose,” Thor accuses her later.
Love glares. “I told you not to date Axl’s dad.”
He sighs dramatically. “I’m not dating Axl’s dad.”
“You’re trying to!”
He does his best to put on a serious grown up scowl. “Who I date or try to date is none of your business,” he tells her. Pauses. Then grins, “But you think it’s working?”
“Uncle Thor,” Love snaps, “If you date Axl’s dad, I will run away.”
He snorts. “Okay, well, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Try me,” she says so flatly that for just a moment Thor believes her. Which is ridiculous because she’s definitely kidding.
Right?
Yeah, she’s kidding.
He’s, like, eight-five percent sure.
Parents take turns bringing in snacks and drinks for the kids to have during the game. It’s supposed to be completely voluntary and not at all required. Except Brunnhilde doesn’t particularly care whether or not Thor’s willing and volunteers him without asking. She also doesn’t mention it to him until the night before, leaving him to frantically drag Love to the store to find something to feed a dozen children.
“What about these?” Love asks, holding up a container of chocolate chip cookies the size of her head.
Thor frowns. “I think we need something a little healthier than that.” Still, he adds it to their cart for home, because come on, you can’t possibly pass up a container of cookies the size of your child’s head. It would be irresponsible parenting.
“Healthy’s gross,” she says, opening and helping herself to a bag of chips like she’s at home and not at the supermarket.
He takes the bag from her hands and puts it in the cart alongside the cookies. “Healthy can make you better at soccer.”
Then, in a perfectly timed moment, they come across the solution to all of his problems: a shelf full of protein shakes. And not just any protein shakes – the exact salted caramel protein shake he saw Heimdall drinking three games ago. It’s basically a sign from the heavens. Thor couldn’t ask for a more perfect drink to take to his child’s soccer game.
“These are healthy,” he explains, loading the cart with boxes of the shelf-stable shake. “Drink enough of these and you’ll be big and strong and easily beat Axl.”
Which, he later realizes is the exact wrong thing to tell his impressionable and single-minded child. Because he wakes up at three a.m. to the sound of her puking up the entire case of protein shakes she chugged in the middle of the night in the hopes that it would make her big and strong for the game.
“Uncle Thor, I don’t think I like healthy drinks…” she slurs when he carries her back to her bed once there’s nothing she could possibly have left in her stomach.
He sighs softly and rubs her back. “Yeah, kiddo, I don’t blame you.”
He texts Brunnhilde at five a.m., letting her know the situation before he falls back asleep. He wakes up six hours later to a venmo request from Sif for the last minute snacks she bought since he “bailed” (her words, not his) and, more importantly, a lot of screaming from Love who cannot comprehend why he would let her sleep through their game.
“Uncle Thor, how could you? Do you have any idea what this means? It means Axl going to have an extra game on me! Do you even know what that means? It means he’s one step closer to beating me. Uncle Thor, how could you!? Do you want me to lose!?”
He just groans and falls back into his bed as Love continues her rant.
“Missed you at the last game,” Heimdall says so casually the next week that for a second Thor thinks he must be delusional, because there’s no possible way he heard that right. But before he can even gather his thoughts enough to respond, Heimdall adds, “My kid wouldn’t stop talking about how much better the game was without your kid. He kind of hates her.”
Oh, that’s why he noticed. Right.
Of course.
“Once she felt better, my kid wouldn’t stop screaming about how she can’t let your kid get a win without her, so at least the feeling’s mutual.”
Heimdall chuckles and hands Thor a bottle of gatorade he clearly swiped from the team’s weekly snack supply. It’s the purple one, which is hilarious because it’s normally the worst flavor but suddenly he can’t imagine a better drink that’s ever existed. It’s honestly ridiculous how this man can make anything more attractive.
“So you won’t be missing any more games then,” he says.
Thor honestly has no idea if he means it as a question or not, but he answers it. “No, definitely not.”
“Good, because if you leave me alone with Korg and Dwayne again, I’ll never forgive you,” Heimdall says, subtly nodding in the direction of the team’s most annoying parents.
He grins, so big and wide that it almost hurts his face, but he doesn’t even care, and bumps his shoulder against Heimdall’s. “I won’t. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Holding you to that one, mate.”
There’s a lot more Thor wishes Heimdall would hold him to, but, hey, it’s something.
Things don’t progress throughout the season in the way Thor would like, but they do progress at least to an extent. They’re friendly – they sit together, joke together, and sometimes even laugh together. And sometimes Thor swears he catches Heimdall looking at him too – it’s brief and so quick that he isn’t sure if it’s really there or if he’s just imagining it. But it’s enough to say that things are, technically, progressing.
It’s enough to give him hope.
He isn’t even worried when the season wraps up because there’s only a two week gap until their optional summer camp starts. Which means an entire summer’s worth of opportunities to make more progress. Thor’s totally got this. Slow and steady wins the race and all.
Still, summer camp incoming or not, Brunnhilde makes a whole spectacle of the last game of the season. She brings three full coolers of drinks and orders two whole pizzas for each kid. Because it’s still technically the end of the season and the team deserves to celebrate that. Because for how much she puts on the tough coach act, it’s always been obvious how much Brunnhilde enjoys coaching them. How much she actually cares.
Which means he knows something must be up if she’s pulling him aside before the game begins instead of focusing on her players. “I’ve got bad news,” Brunnhilde says, pulling him aside before the game. “Axl’s being bumped up a class.”
Thor raises a brow, a little confused. Sure Axl getting bumped up and not Love will likely disappoint her, but it’s not exactly a surprise considering he’s older than her. Hell, they’re young enough that he’s pretty sure they’re only bumped up by age, not merit. And yeah, Love is a bit of a tyrant, but he’s sure he’ll be able to explain that to her. Besides, with Axl gone, she’ll definitely be the top of the team. She might even be glad.
Axl will no longer be a concern for Love.
Because, Thor realizes, Axl will no longer be on the same team as Love.
Which means Heimdall will no longer be attending the games.
Shit.
For the first time since Thor laid eyes on Heimdall, Brunnhilde gives him a sympathetic look. “Today’s your last chance, mate. Better make it count.”
Nothing can ever go his way, can it?
He spends the entire game a mess, alternating between cheering Love on as she plays dirtier than any child should and trying to figure out how to actually ask Heimdall out while also trying to play it cool enough that Heimdall doesn’t realize Thor’s very focused on trying to ask him out. It’s a lot to juggle but he’s totally got it under control.
Really.
Okay, fine, he absolutely doesn’t.
He swears he used to be good at this whole flirting thing. He is good at it. It’s just that it’s really hard to be smooth when the most beautiful man in the universe is chuckling at your bad jokes for quite possibly the last time ever. Which sounds dramatic but actually isn’t. Which is a lot of pressure to just suddenly put on him in the middle of a children's soccer game.
Too much pressure, it turns out, because the game ends and Heimdall says something Thor doesn’t catch, which is particularly insane because it might be the very last thing he ever says to Thor, before he walks down the field to his kid. Heimdall grins down at Axl before pulling the boy into a hug.
“Uncle Thor,” Love says running over to him, holding the soccer ball he’s pretty sure she’s not supposed to take off the field. “Did you see the goal I scored?”
“Sure did, kiddo,” he says. He also saw the way she tripped a kid trying to steal the ball from her but he doesn’t bring that up.
Instead he picks Love up, bringing her up to his height to hug her, just because he knows it will embarrass her. Which it does, but she seems excited enough about the results of the game that she only barely protests and hugs him back in a way that reminds him that all of her chaos is worth it.
“Pizza’s here!” Sif calls out, stacking a pile of boxes nearly as tall as her onto a picnic table.
Which, honestly, is a rookie mistake if Thor ever saw one. She only barely makes it out of the way of nearly being run over by a flood of hungry, sweaty, and dirty kids, saving her the embarrassment of death by child stampede.
“So how did it go?” Sif asks, walking over, shooting him a look daring him to say something annoying.
He, quite graciously, spares her. “The kids won.”
Sif, to his surprise, rolls her eyes. “Obviously I know that. I meant with the love of your life or whatever you’re calling him now. Did you settle on a date for your spring wedding?”
“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about?” he says, not convincingly at all.
“Thor,” she says, equally aghast and annoyed.
He tries to play it cool and not at all depressed. “I’ll do it the next time I run into him.”
“Uh-huh. And when will that be? The season’s over.” He doesn’t answer and she sighs dramatically. Then, before he can fully comprehend what’s happening, she calls out, "Oi, Heimdall," And then, to Thor’s horror, she gestures towards him and announces, "My friend thinks you're hot. He literally won't shut up about you. Can you either date him or reject him so I don't have to hear about it anymore?"
Heimdall looks over at them, his gaze flickering from Sif to Thor. He looks at him for what feels like a solid minute, as if he’s trying to read him, and Thor swears he would melt into a pool of embarrassment if Heimdall’s eyes weren’t just so damn mesmerizing. How anyone looks at him and doesn’t immediately fall in love, Thor will never understand.
Finally Heimdall nods. "Yeah, alright. How about Saturday? Axl's with his mum this weekend."
"Wait, really?" Thor blurts before regaining composure. "I mean, yes. Saturday. I'll pick you up at eight?"
Heimdall pulls a notebook out of Axl’s bag, tears out a page, and scribbles down his information. “Make it seven. The WBA match is at eight and we’ll need to get to the pub early if we want to watch.”
Thor blinks, not sure he heard him correctly, because there’s no way Heimdall just referenced the World Boxing Association. There’s no way a man that attractive who also watches boxing just agreed to go out with Thor. Perfect men don’t exist. It’s not possible.
Instead he says, “I didn’t know you watched.”
“I didn’t,” Heimdall says, the edges of his lips curving up into a smirk. “But then this good looking bloke I met mentioned that he likes it, so I checked it out.” He hands Thor the paper with his address. Pauses. Then adds, “Maybe you can show me some moves after the match.”
Yeah, he thinks he can definitely make that happen.
Later, once Heimdall and Axl have left, and Thor’s waiting for Love to change, he tells Brunnhilde, "What I don't understand is why he listened to Sif. Do they know each other?"
"Oh that," she shrugs innocently. "Heimdall’s her brother."
He stares for a beat. Then another. "Come again?" he says. "Brunn, you mean all this time he was your girlfriend's brother and you didn't think to tell me?"
"No, no, I definitely thought about it.”
“I hate you.”
She laughs and punches him in the arm. “Cheer up, mate. You got the guy in the end.”
He grins, big and goofy. Yeah, he supposes he did, didn’t he?
“You’re going out with Axl’s dad?” Love asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, causing him to jump in surprise.
Thor looks down at her, arms crossed with a very serious expression on her face, before he crouches to her level. “Yes. Is that okay?” he asks, pauses, and then takes a deep breath before adding. “If it’s not okay, I… can cancel.”
Please let it be okay.
Love studies him for a minute. Then another. Then a third. And just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, she sighs dramatically. “I suppose Axl’s not my rival anymore.”
Thor grins and scoops her into a giant hug. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“But I’m not sharing my room with Axl if you get married.”
He lets her go and ruffles her hair. “Don’t worry, kiddo. Their place is nicer so if we get married, we’re definitely moving into their house. You’ll share his room.”
She swats his hand away and storms off. “I changed my mind. You can’t date him.”
He just laughs and follows her.
Thor plans the perfect date. He finds the one gay bar in the city willing to show the match. He gets the nicest detailing job so his car looks perfect. He calls in a favor with a buddy who owns a boxing studio so he can show Heimdall those moves. He even times it so that he will arrive at Heimdall’s ten minutes early so he can make a good impression. Everything is all set for the perfect evening.
Until Brunnhilde and Sif run nearly an hour late to babysit Love, leaving him frantically racing to Heimdall’s, praying that they even make it to the bar before the match begins.
When Heimdall gets in the car, he raises a brow, holding up a couple of bundled hand wraps that, in his haste, Thor forgot to move from the passenger seat to the trunk. ”What’s with these?”
“That… was supposed to be a surprise,” he admits. “You use them to wrap your hands when you box. It prevents injuries. I thought we might need them.”
Heimdall stares at him for a moment before the edges of his lips tug into a playful smirk. “Thor, you know when I said show me some moves, I didn’t mean boxing moves, right?”
Oh.
Oh.
“Well, this is embarrassing.”
This time when Heimdall laughs, it’s a full, proper laugh. Loud and deep and even though Thor wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die, the sound makes his stomach do flips and something in his chest feels tight and warm at the same time, and even Thor can’t help but laugh too.
“There’s not a lot going on up there, is there?" Heimdall says in an obviously playful way.
Thor grins sheepishly. "No, not when you're around, it seems."
Heimdall grins back, pauses, and says, “To hell with it.”
Then before Thor’s brain can catch up with what’s happening, Heimdall kisses him and literally any chance of his brain working again goes completely out the window.
“Thinking’s overrated,” Heimdall says.
“Huh?” Thor says, still slightly dazed.
Heimdall laughs, his hand on Thor’s knee. “Don’t worry about it, mate.”
Yeah, Thor realizes with a bubbly sort of glee right before Heimdall kisses him again, they’re definitely going to miss the match.