Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Loki heard a loud crash. A groan and a moan. Someone was cursing a couch.

He raised his eyebrow. Okay, what was going on now?

He closed the book he was studying with and walked barefoot through his small apartment. It was small, old, and a bit shabby—but Loki made the best of it, keeping it as clean and cozy as possible, so it resembled a palace rather than a hole.

Well, he tried to, at least, and his roommate did... well, probably the opposite. 

He stepped over a stack of textbooks, kicked away his roommate's unwashed, sweaty hoodie, and then cautiously looked through the peephole. 

He saw... furniture. Boxes. And people struggle. Apparently, someone was moving in. Into the big apartment across the street, of all places. The one you could only afford with Daddy's credit card.

"Of course." Loki snorted softly. Not that he cared. Of course not. Pure curiosity, nothing more.

"You're stalking the neighbors again," his brother and—unfortunately—roommate made another unqualified comment. Screw you, Thor.

"Oh, just shut up."

"You shut up."

Loki sighed and thought to himself: Very grown-up, Thor. Really, very grown-up.

Loki grumbled something to himself, silently cursing his big brother again, before leaning back toward the peephole—and almost having a heart attack when he suddenly looked directly into a brown eye.

"By all the gods..." Loki recoiled.

He didn't get any further—the doorbell rang.

He waited a few seconds. Of course. He wasn't going to jump up and rip the door open in the first second. Hey what Loki. Not a damn dog. 

After a decent number of seconds, he slowly and politely opened the front door and immediately flashed a charming smile. "Yes, please?"

"Hi."

The man grinned mischievously, brushed a strand of messy brown hair back from his forehead, and looked at him with the same dark eyes that had just startled him through the keyhole. The crumpled T-shirt did nothing to make the scene seem any less chaotic.

Great, a walking mess with puppy-dog eyes. They already had Steve for that.

"Hello," Loki spoke slowly, calmly. He tilted his head slightly.

"I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm the new neighbor. My name is Anthony, but everyone calls me Tony."

Loki raised an eyebrow involuntarily. Aha.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Anthony," Loki's green eyes sparkled slightly, his smile almost sweet. He enjoyed ignoring Tony's request. "That big idiot over there is my brother Thor, and I'm Loki."

Tony's grin widened. He casually leaned against a cardboard box, as if to symbolize that Loki's little barb hadn't hit him at all.

"Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize for the loudness. That won't happen again after we move in, of course... at least not as often."

Loki's eyelid twitched slightly. Of course. A party boy with Daddy's credit card.

"And then I was wondering if you could maybe help me bring the couch upstairs. I'm afraid otherwise it'll just have to die on the stairs."

Tony casually ran his hand through his messy hair, stuffing the other hand into his trouser pocket.

"You must have mistaken me. I'm your neighbor, not your mover."

"Then I guess I mistook you for a very handsome mover."

Loki tried compulsively to ignore the warm feeling in his cheeks. 

This couldn't be true. The new neighbor was flirting with him, and he had nothing better to do than blush like a 13-year-old schoolboy. 

Instead, he cleared his throat. "Well, I..."

"Loki's useless when it comes to heavy things. I can help," Thor chimed in. He slapped Loki on the back with his free hand, the one he wasn't holding a protein shake in, nearly sending Loki flying.

He wasn't sure if Thor was trying to help him out of the situation or if he was just being a big jerk again.

So be it.

He still had the feeling he'd never get out of the mess that was Anthony.

"Ah," Tony sounded unenthusiastic, "You were Thor, right? Sports student, huh?"

"Indeed," Thor's chest swelled, and he didn't seem to notice that Tony had said "sports student" more derogatorily than enthusiastically.

And of course, Tony also had to notice Loki's little grin. 

He even had the nerve to grin back.

So, as Loki sat on his garden chair in the hallway, watching Thor and Tony haul furniture upstairs while enjoying a cold drink, he gradually realized that he was probably already deeper into this whirlwind called Tony than he thought.

And he didn't know whether he liked it or hated it. 

Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night, the apartment quiet and still. Thor was already asleep, but Loki couldn't sleep... again.

He rolled around in his bed, pressed the pillow to his face, and groaned in annoyance at himself.

Then he heard it. The knock at the door.

Who wanted something from him at this time of night? It was the middle of the night!

Grumbling, Loki slipped into his comfortable flip-flops, almost tripped over a stack of books in the dark, and somehow made it to the door.

With little grace, he opened the door and ran his hand through his hair. Usually, at this time of night, it was Bucky who came by for some stupid thing.

But it wasn't Bucky.

Tony leaned casually against the doorframe, a flirtatious grin on his lips and a bottle of wine in his hand.

"Hey, princess. I don't have a corkscrew and I haven't unpacked my glasses yet, but you look like the kind of guy who can help me out." 

Loki was pretty annoyed about the nickname. Princess. The nerve...

His cheeks warmed again.

"What makes you think that?" Loki sounded rude.

"You look like the typical wine drinker to me. And the fact that you're still awake at this hour, standing before me so charmingly in your flip-flops, reinforces that impression," Tony grinned and ran a hand through his messy hair.

The audacity!

Loki opened his mouth, closed it again—and hated the fact that he looked like a damn carp right now.

He looked stupid.

"Do you need a moment, Princess?"

"Oh, shut up," Loki growled, a bit irritated, which only made Tony laugh.

Loki blushed even more, without being able to do anything about it.

All he managed was a strained "Do you want that damn corkscrew now?"

"Absolutely!"

Before Loki could manage a sharp "No, thank you, please go now," Tony had already glided past him with a small swing – as if the apartment belonged to him. The smell of old wood and stacks of books immediately mingled with Tony's perfume, which he had probably deliberately applied too liberally.

"Wow." Tony turned slowly in a circle and finally stopped in front of the bookshelf. "Pretty... ornate for a student. I wasn't expecting... Shakespeare posters."

"That's not a poster, you uncultured oaf, that's an original engraving," Loki snarled, snatching the bottle from Tony's hand.

"See? That's exactly why I woke you up." Tony flopped unashamedly onto Loki's chair as if he belonged there. "I can tell you know a thing or two about style."

Loki growled softly and searched for the corkscrew, vowing to himself: Just one glass. Then out with him. Absolutely.

Loki found the corkscrew in the kitchen. Tony was unfortunately right; he was a wine drinker. He enjoyed a nice glass of wine in the bathtub. Unfortunately, he could rarely afford wine.

He took out the corkscrew. A beautiful thing, gold-plated. He had received it from his beloved mother.

He took out two more glasses and then brought them both to Tony. He expected Tony to open the bottle and pour them both wine.

Well, wrong thought.

With one fluid movement, he stood up. "Well, I'll let you go back to sleep then. And I can't keep my lady waiting any longer."

He winked and headed for the door.

Loki stared. "Lady call?"

"Oh yes. Pepper. You'll definitely meet her soon, she's magnificent."

Loki looked at him again and turned back into a fish.

"Well, good night then, Princess."

With that, the door closed.

A feeling settled in Loki's stomach. A feeling he didn't quite understand. Disappointment.

He stared at the door for a long time, as if it were about to leave him with an explanation. Of course. Of course, this Anthony—Tony—had a lady calling. Handsome, elegant, charming, probably just as chaotic as he was, but in the right way. Pepper. The name alone sounded like it was meant to be liked.

Loki snorted softly. "Great," he murmured into the silence. "A lady. How classic."

He turned away, but his footsteps were heavier than they should have been. Why had he even expected the man to stay? That they would have a drink together, maybe even... talk? Stupid. Ridiculous.

"He's your neighbor, Loki. Nothing more. An arrogant, impudent guy who mistakes your apartment for a stage and calls you 'princess' as if you had no dignity. So no loss," he said, once again having one of his self-talks that drove Thor crazy.

He was a psychology student; maybe he should analyze himself.

His thoughts returned to Tony. The asshole hadn't even said thank you!

Now he was angry. Really angry. He'd given him his mother's corkscrew, for crying out loud!

How ungrateful!

He picked up his phone. For a moment, he considered texting Bucky.

Bucky had been his absolute best friend since they started college, and the first friend he'd ever had in America.

He didn't because it made him feel ridiculous.

Loki sat back down on his bed, his legs tucked up against his body. He wanted to relax. Just a few more minutes, he thought, he had to get up early tomorrow morning. But as soon as he closed his eyes, laughter from next door penetrated the thin wall.

A very loud laugh.

"...really, Pepper, you're exaggerating!" Tony's voice sounded loud and cheerful, almost like a small hurricane sweeping through the apartment.

"I'm not exaggerating!" replied a softer voice. That had to be Pepper. Oh no, why did she sound so sympathetic?

Loki grimaced. Of course. He heard everything. Every exclamation, every chuckle, every outrageous "Ha!". His head suddenly felt heavy, and his cheeks grew warm again—only this time from frustration.

He was angry, frustrated, and, without wanting to admit it, a little hurt. But at least now he was pretty sure he didn't like Anthony Stark. 

Chapter Text

"Have you heard about the new guy in the dorm? He just has the rich-boy apartment!"

Bucky was excited as he greeted Loki. So excited that he almost spilled the coffee he always brought Loki. It was already spilling over, and of course, a stain was bound to end up on Loki's jacket.

Of course.

"Oh, please," Loki grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sipped his coffee—actually, it was more like milk with a hint of coffee flavor and way too much sugar.

"Oh, come on, this must be really exciting. We've never had such a rich guy in the dorm before. Almost everyone's talking about him."

Loki closed his eyes. By the gods, of course everyone had to be talking about him. Everyone probably thought he was great, and Loki was once again the weird outsider who couldn't relate to the rich snob.

"Thor helped him carry the furniture," Loki replied, somewhat annoyed. "He wanted me to help him, but that would have ended in disaster."

The cafeteria they were standing in front of was slowly filling with life. The first classes were about to start.

Just as Loki was about to put down his coffee, his gaze fell. There he was. Of course. Anthony Stark, in the middle of the room, as if he were about to buy the cafeteria. Loki suppressed a groan. Perfect. Simply perfect.

Tony spotted him too, grinned cheekily—but before Loki could do anything, Steve–Bucky's roommate and "He's not my boyfriend, why do you think that?"–and Bruce came out of the cafeteria.

Steve had already half-eaten the sandwich he'd bought. Bruce, on the other hand, carried his bag like a treasure.

Bucky nudged Loki with his elbow. "He just grinned at you."

"He didn't."

"He did."

Loki sipped his coffee hastily, as if he could hide behind the paper cup. Damn.

That damned grin was making him angry. His ears were heating up. How dare that Tony attack him so brazenly when he hadn't even thanked him for the corkscrew!

Now he looked like he was about to walk straight into the group. Loki just gave him a dirty look.

"Loki. Hey, we're going to be late," Steve brought him back to reality, now the sandwich was already completely gone. This guy had a very impressive metabolism.

"What? Oh, I see. Shall we meet here for lunch?"

"As always," Bucky grinned, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. "I heard they're having tacos today."

Loki was just about to breathe a sigh of relief that he could end the conversation when he heard that smug, sadly already familiar voice.

He'd been hearing it all night, though. He blamed Tony for his dark circles.

"Tacos? Did I hear that right?"

Anthony Stark was really standing before them now, as if he'd stepped straight out of a commercial for overpriced suits. He grinned as if he'd known the entire group for years.

"Where do I sign up to join?" he asked casually, his eyes fixed directly on Loki.

Bucky snorted in amusement. "Well, in the cafeteria. It's not a private club here. You don't know that feeling, do you, rich boy?"

"Good to know." Tony winked at Bucky as if they'd just shared a secret. "I would have asked Loki otherwise, he looks like he knows."

Loki felt his fingers tighten around the coffee mug. He wanted to throw the mug in Tony's face. Instead, he forced a smug smile that probably failed like a gnashed tooth.

"Great. See you this afternoon then," Loki couldn't hide the slight edge in his voice. Gods, that smug, arrogant...

Tony nodded as if the matter was settled and disappeared with a flourish, as if he'd just walked in and out of the stage.

Bucky immediately poked Loki in the side. "He was looking at you again."

"He didn't."

"He did."

Loki sipped his coffee hastily, his ears growing dangerously hot.

They walked into the main building.

"He was actually quite nice," Bruce said, adjusting his glasses.

"Nice? He's arrogant and conceited and—"

"And he practically stared into your soul," Bucky grinned so broadly it must have hurt.

Loki glared at his best friend.

Bucky just laughed and hugged Loki goodbye before everyone went their separate ways – Bucky and Steve went to their history class, Bruce had something to do with biology, and Loki headed off to psychology.

He found a seat relatively close to the back and took out his old laptop.

"Have you studied yet?" he suddenly heard a voice behind him. Natasha.

She always managed to give him half a heart attack.

Loki thought she was totally cool and fascinating. She always just showed up; no one knew what she did outside of university.

Silent, like a shadow, she was always suddenly behind you, always when you least expected her.

"Less than I wanted. My new neighbor is, unfortunately, unbearable."

"Unfortunate," Nat commented, casually plopped down on the chair next to Loki.

"Are you coming to lunch with us today?" Loki asked her, as he did almost every day. Sometimes she was there, most of the time she wasn't.

Loki really wondered what she was doing outside of university.

"Nah, I have to go somewhere else," she simply said.

Loki nodded and tried to focus on his class notes again.

But his mind kept wandering. The thought of Stark joining them at lunch drove him crazy.

It really couldn't be that he was intruding on that part of his life too!

Loki took a deep breath.

No, he wouldn't let himself be provoked at lunch. Come what may.

Chapter Text

The cafeteria smelled, as always, of too much cheese—is there ever too much cheese?—and too little patience.

Loki hated this place. The constant clatter of trays, the hum of conversations, the beeping of the cash register—it was a symphony of chaos.

At the same time, it was always the moment of the day when he met up with his friends again. So maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Even though he wouldn't tell anyone that.

He stood in line, his eyes fixed on the menu, as if he were contemplating his life's work and not whether he wanted a vegetarian taco or a burrito.

Because in the end, they both tasted equally bad. But that didn't matter.

Bucky and Steve stood in front of him, debating whether guacamole was a food or the symphony of life—while simultaneously staring so deeply into each other's eyes that Loki wanted to throw up.

Bruce, as always, held the tray carefully, as if balancing an experiment on it that might explode at any moment.

"Sorry, Brucey, Natasha couldn't come today," Loki smiled at him, assuming it was because his hands were shaking again.

Bruce immediately turned bright red.

Loki grinned. He'd hit a sore spot.

Loki sipped his second coffee of the day. The first hadn't helped him get through this morning—perhaps the second would.

He tried not to look for Tony Stark.
He really tried not to.

A faint hope stirred that maybe he wouldn't come.

But fate was a wicked traitor—he'd barely formed the thought when he heard it. That voice. Loud. Casual. Convinced that everyone around him would fall to their knees in sheer excitement whenever he entered the room.

"Honestly, if this is 'Mexican,' then I'm Santa Claus."

Someone laughed, and from that, Loki recognized Pepper. He'd heard that laughter many times during the night.

Since she looked like she'd been trying to calm Tony down for three hours, Loki almost felt sorry for her.

Only almost.

Loki felt his shoulders automatically tense.

Of course, he had to show up now. And of course, he looked like he'd lived in a fashion catalog again.

"I bet he's coming here," Bucky murmured, barely audibly, as they sat down at their usual table.

"No. He doesn't," Loki answered immediately.

"Yes, he does," Bucky grinned.

And of course—seconds later, a tray fell with a dull clunk right next to Loki's.

"Now that's timing," Tony said cheerfully, simply sitting down in the empty seat next to him, as if Loki had personally invited him.

Pepper sighed, took a seat across from him—right next to Bruce—and looked like she was only there out of self-defense.

"I heard you're the cool people in the dorm," Tony began, without prompting.

"Who told you that?" Loki asked sharply, incredulously.

He might have believed that with Thor, but him? He was the opposite of cool.

"Nobody. I just saw it."

That smile.

That damn smile.

Loki stared at his tray as if it had personally offended him, seriously considering whether you could kill someone with a taco shell.

Suddenly, he heard a loud voice, which he immediately recognized as his brother's.

Sometimes Loki didn't like the tall, blond idiot, but now he had to smile.

"Hey, you" Thor ruffled Loki's hair and grinned broadly.

Loki flinched. "Can you please stop that?"

"Oh, come on, little brother, you look like you were happy to see me!" Thor set his tray down with a loud clunk right next to Loki's. Right between him and Tony, of course.

Loki looked at him as if he'd just ushered in the end of the world. "I've never been happy to see you."

Tony raised an interested eyebrow. "Little brother, huh?"

He grinned – and looked at the two of them with undisguised curiosity.

Thor laughed out loud, as if the whole thing were a talk show and not Loki's personal nightmare. "Yes, Loki, this is my younger brother! He's studying psychology, if I remember correctly. Very clever, but a little..." he made a vague gesture, "...uptight."

"I'm not uptight!" Loki snapped immediately, but leaned slightly against Thor. Because Thor always made him feel safe.

"Of course not," Pepper chimed in, sipping her smoothie, "you look completely relaxed."

Bruce coughed into his drink, Steve tried to suppress a grin, and Bucky didn't even bother to grin.

For a brief moment, Loki hated that Pepper was also funny.

Tony leaned back, rested his elbow on the table, and looked directly at Loki. "So, psychology. That explains a lot."

Loki blinked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Tony grinned provocatively, and Loki wanted to ram the spoon he was still using to eat his pudding into his eyes. Not dignified, but very satisfying.

Thor grabbed Loki's notebook, which was lying on the table. "Did you learn anything interesting today?"

Loki's ears heated up again. He didn't like it when Thor did that in front of other people—especially when he read his notes aloud. Loki always added his own notes to the regular notes.

He quickly grabbed his notebook.

"We learned something about trauma," he murmured, almost shyly.

For a brief moment, something flashed across Tony's face that Loki couldn't interpret.

No smile, no mockery. More like a fleeting thought, one you'd rather not think.

"I wrote down that sometimes it's like... Our heads are made of steel, we're hard until we go to sleep at night. Like an aftershock."

Tony's eyes darkened.

"Just a shock, but for years afterward, our hearts are like china shops."

"Aftershocks," Tony repeated quietly. Pepper looked at him, somehow worried and deeply.

Loki just didn't really notice.

"You're a clever little fellow, Loki," Tony's voice had trailed off. He stood up, even though his taco was only half-eaten.

"A really clever little fellow."

The silence was suddenly too loud, much too loud. And Loki couldn't help but think that he'd found a small crack in the perfect Tony Stark.