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felicitygsIt's time for another Bingo card! I'm a lot happier with the one I got for this go round, and I have some excellent squares I can't wait to fill! I'm going to be trying to do mostly comedic writing for this, because it's an area of fiction writing I'd like to work on, and also because it's just dang fun to write. Anyway, without further ado, here's my first fill!!
Tony Stark does not typically, under usual circumstances, go to weddings. They're just not his scene; he just isn't the biggest fan of all the hustle and bustle, and then there's the travel, because he's moved out to California but almost everyone else is still back on the East Coast, and furthermore, weddings are just. A bit excessive.
(It has zero to do with being jealous, or the bittersweet reminder of the almost-wedding with Pepper, or anything else, and he'd appreciate if no one acted sympathetic about it, thanks.)
But. Well.
Here he is, on a plane, going to a wedding, and he's still not entirely sure why.
(Except he totally, absolutely knows.)
He was never even that close to Thor, and while he and Jane had a lot of fun times blowing up shit in labs together, they haven't exactly stayed in touch since then, either. They don't even work in the same field, really, though sometimes they do exchange the occasional email. Which is the only reason he thinks anyone knows his address, because maybe he gave it to Jane once a million years ago and forgot.
He forgets a lot of that sort of thing.
(Except for how, well, extra the wedding invite had been, totally unlike Thor or Jane, and a lot like a certain younger brother of a certain groom that Tony maybe hasn't seen in-person since they made out--like friends do--at their high school graduation instead of actually walking the stage.
Boy, Tony had nearly forgotten about that.)
(Except he hasn't.)
Tony settles into his seat, puts in his headphones, and scrolls through the in-flight movies. Thor's invited everyone who's anyone that Tony used to know, and it'll be good to catch up with everyone. No one else would invite every single person they used to know to their wedding, at least no one Tony knows. This is as good a time to drop in for a reunion as any.
Definitely.
***
Tony did not plan on Pepper being at the wedding.
"Hey, it's good to see you again," Tony says, smiling. They hug, and he makes himself smile through her introducing him to her new date--a really nice lady, to be honest, Pepper deserves the best, and Tony knows that he's certainly not the best, but it still stings, a little, watching Pepper give that tiny smile that used to be for Tony to this woman, Rorie?, but--
"It's good to see you again," Tony says. "Now I need to go find the groom."
"Of course," Pepper says, and Tony does not flee when he goes looking for Thor (looking for Loki, there's no way that nerd isn't here).
There's a lot of people, though, and it's hard to see and really, he should have expected this.
"Tony!" Thor booms, like he always has, and his hug is bone crushing, like it always was, and Tony can't breathe for a second, and almost wants to panic, but Thor lets go and he's beaming, golden and beautiful and still so attractive that honestly, Tony's not entirely sure he's human.
"Thor!" Tony says, once he's got his air back, and claps the man on the shoulder. "You're looking great, congrats."
"I have to say, when I saw you'd RSVPed I was a bit surprised," Thor says, no malice or bitterness in his voice. "You're pretty reclusive way out there on the West Coast."
"Yeah, well, you know me, I hate planes, the travel, eesh." Tony grins wide, and tries not to act impatient, though he can't quite stop shifting his weight from foot to foot, can't quite stop scanning the crowd, trying to see if he sees a certain tall and gangly dark-haired nerd lurking in a corner somewhere.
Tony's not even sure what they're talking about after a few minutes when his eyes track over a smaller crowd, then dart back, because surely--
"I'm really happy for you," Tony says, interrupting whatever Thor's saying, and flashes his most charming grin again. "And congrats, really, you and Jane are cute together, I always knew you'd outlast the rest of us."
"Thanks," Thor says, grinning like he knows what has distracted Tony, which he very much does not, because Thor's not psychic and Tony's not that transparent.
(Is he?)
Tony's kept up with Loki via emails and text messages and witty one-liners, but in Tony's head, Loki is still eighteen and too tall and all long limbs and elbows and knees, still with that scattering of acne along the line of his jaw and a scowl that doesn't hide exactly how gorgeous his eyes are; he's still too much trouble wrapped up in school uniforms and fury, and even all the acne and gangliness and stuffy uniforms can't hide a forest fire beauty and wit lurking just beneath the surface.
(It is totally one thousand percent normal to think your once best friend still best conversationlist acquaintance is hot.)
Except, well.
Loki isn't eighteen anymore.
And he doesn't have acne.
Tony weaves and dodges through the people between them, not quite able to take his eyes off Loki, and--
Loki's still tall, and his hair is still raven sheen black, and his eyes still flash, and his laughter is still low and more of a chuckle than a full laugh, but the acne is gone and the.... uncertainty about how to hold himself, too--he's tall, and aware of it, and there's a confidence and coolness to him that Tony doesn't remember ever seeing before, and--
"Hey, nerd," Tony says, as casually as he can, and Loki turns and--
Still, green eyes, still that tiniest twitch of a smile that means its genuine--
"It's not a good sign when you start saying hello to yourself," Loki quips, easy, and his smile is just as easy, and when did he learn how to wear a suit?
(Fuck, a very very tiny part of Tony whispers with feeling.)
"But you answered anyway," Tony says, smug.
Loki chuckles, warm and Tony had almost forgotten the texture of it over all these years, even as Loki holds a hand out and they shake, strong, close, like friends do.
His chest is too warm, it almost hurts, and he rubs at it just a little, trying to ease the sudden heartburn when he hasn't even eaten yet.
He needs a drink.
***
Tony has, maybe, had several drinks.
(The ceremony was lovely, and Tony spent most of it staring at Loki, standing just to the right of Thor, expression perfectly servicably pleasant, emphasizing Thor's particular type of handsomeness, sure, but also just--how could anyone not be staring at Loki, when he's right there?)
There's dancing going on, and everyone else has also had several drinks, so Tony's not feeling too bad about his own steadily increasing intoxication, because he's not sure how else to be around a Loki who is this hot.
(Loki's always been hot.)
Plus it makes the occasional glimpse of Pepper more bearable, lets him be happy for her and not just bitter that he couldn't and can't be what she needed and needs.
It's a bit of a weird reversal though--seeing Loki out, mingling, while Tony tries to find the best corner to hide in and... not stare, because Tony does not stare at people, thanks.
Which might be why Loki is able to sneak up on him.
"There you are," Loki says, and he still sounds the same, sort of, though his voice is lower than sporadic late night phone calls have suggested.
"Oh, you found me, how about that," Tony says, trying not to slur too much.
(Has he really been drinking that much? Maybe he should slow down; his chest hurts again.)
"Mhm." Loki's watching him, and Tony finds his mind wandering back to a certain closet he saw earlier.
"You know," Tony says, "I saw a pretty convenient looking closet earlier."
"Oh?" Loki says, the tiniest bit of a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth up, eyes lighting up.
"We should probably make sure no one's using it for nefarious purposes," Tony adds.
"Like graduation."
"Exactly." Somehow (probably all the alcohol) Tony's managing to keep it together, managing to stay semi-solemn and not laugh.
"I suppose we should," Loki agrees, and while he's not quite as mock solemn as Tony, it's close enough, and then Loki's got an arm in his, like they're very old friends walking down the street in 1800s Paris, and this is, perhaps, what Tony's always loved about Loki, how natural things always feel with him.
***
"You got even hotter," Tony complains, coming up for air. He can't quite feel his lips, and they're probably red and swollen with how Loki's been nipping at them, and he's unfairly hard in his pants--and Loki's hard against him, too, both of them grinding on the other, and Tony's not sure where either of their ties have gotten to, just that the feel of Loki's hair is so so much better than he's remembered (dreamed) so many times in the intervening years and--
"I wasn't hot to begin with," Loki snorts.
It's probably the alcohol, but Tony lets go of Loki's hair and stops clawing into his shoulder for support to grab his face with both hands, make Loki look at him--that's a mistake, Tony realizes, because he's never quite known what to do with Loki looking at him directly, and that sure has not changed.
His heart hurts, his chest, it feels full to bursting and it's....
exquisite.
"You were always hot," Tony says, forcefully, and, When Loki looks surprised, flushes all down his face, along a jaw that Loki hated and Tony thought was just another part of Loki, he keeps going, because if he doesn't do something he's sure his heart is going to explode. "You were always hot, and now you're hotter and I love you so much you idiot, so shut up about this 'not being hot to begin with' nonsense."
This isn't having the desired effect, and it takes Tony's booze addled mind a second to catch up with what he said but--
it's true.
Even if now his face is catching fire, and Loki's grinning, a full grin, his wolf's grin, the one that's all teeth like he just made a kill and is ready to bring it home, and God, maybe Tony shouldn't have drank all that booze.
"You love me?" Loki repeats back, and Tony wants to die on the spot.
"Shut up," Tony says, letting go with one hand to push Loki's face back, but Loki's laughing, hauling Tony closer, and soon they're both shoving and grinding and laughing and it's ridiculous how even now, Loki makes him feel...
safe.
"You love me," Loki purrs against Tony's ear, and Tony just huffs.
"I'm glad I can stroke your ego," Tony snaps, but he's laughing, face red, and dick way way too hard pressed against his pants and Loki's thigh.
"You'll be stroking a lot more than that if I get my way," Loki says, a thumb rubbing right against the small of Tony's back, tip of his nose just barely touching Tony's nose. "I can't believe it took you this long to admit."
"Excuse me?"
"Less talking, more kissing," Loki says; before Tony can protest, they are kissing, and well, Tony has to say he doesn't mind this distraction at all.
He'll have to ask later.
(He has to make sure there is a later.)
For now, there's a make out to be had.
Tony Stark does not typically, under usual circumstances, go to weddings. They're just not his scene; he just isn't the biggest fan of all the hustle and bustle, and then there's the travel, because he's moved out to California but almost everyone else is still back on the East Coast, and furthermore, weddings are just. A bit excessive.
(It has zero to do with being jealous, or the bittersweet reminder of the almost-wedding with Pepper, or anything else, and he'd appreciate if no one acted sympathetic about it, thanks.)
But. Well.
Here he is, on a plane, going to a wedding, and he's still not entirely sure why.
(Except he totally, absolutely knows.)
He was never even that close to Thor, and while he and Jane had a lot of fun times blowing up shit in labs together, they haven't exactly stayed in touch since then, either. They don't even work in the same field, really, though sometimes they do exchange the occasional email. Which is the only reason he thinks anyone knows his address, because maybe he gave it to Jane once a million years ago and forgot.
He forgets a lot of that sort of thing.
(Except for how, well, extra the wedding invite had been, totally unlike Thor or Jane, and a lot like a certain younger brother of a certain groom that Tony maybe hasn't seen in-person since they made out--like friends do--at their high school graduation instead of actually walking the stage.
Boy, Tony had nearly forgotten about that.)
(Except he hasn't.)
Tony settles into his seat, puts in his headphones, and scrolls through the in-flight movies. Thor's invited everyone who's anyone that Tony used to know, and it'll be good to catch up with everyone. No one else would invite every single person they used to know to their wedding, at least no one Tony knows. This is as good a time to drop in for a reunion as any.
Definitely.
Tony did not plan on Pepper being at the wedding.
"Hey, it's good to see you again," Tony says, smiling. They hug, and he makes himself smile through her introducing him to her new date--a really nice lady, to be honest, Pepper deserves the best, and Tony knows that he's certainly not the best, but it still stings, a little, watching Pepper give that tiny smile that used to be for Tony to this woman, Rorie?, but--
"It's good to see you again," Tony says. "Now I need to go find the groom."
"Of course," Pepper says, and Tony does not flee when he goes looking for Thor (looking for Loki, there's no way that nerd isn't here).
There's a lot of people, though, and it's hard to see and really, he should have expected this.
"Tony!" Thor booms, like he always has, and his hug is bone crushing, like it always was, and Tony can't breathe for a second, and almost wants to panic, but Thor lets go and he's beaming, golden and beautiful and still so attractive that honestly, Tony's not entirely sure he's human.
"Thor!" Tony says, once he's got his air back, and claps the man on the shoulder. "You're looking great, congrats."
"I have to say, when I saw you'd RSVPed I was a bit surprised," Thor says, no malice or bitterness in his voice. "You're pretty reclusive way out there on the West Coast."
"Yeah, well, you know me, I hate planes, the travel, eesh." Tony grins wide, and tries not to act impatient, though he can't quite stop shifting his weight from foot to foot, can't quite stop scanning the crowd, trying to see if he sees a certain tall and gangly dark-haired nerd lurking in a corner somewhere.
Tony's not even sure what they're talking about after a few minutes when his eyes track over a smaller crowd, then dart back, because surely--
"I'm really happy for you," Tony says, interrupting whatever Thor's saying, and flashes his most charming grin again. "And congrats, really, you and Jane are cute together, I always knew you'd outlast the rest of us."
"Thanks," Thor says, grinning like he knows what has distracted Tony, which he very much does not, because Thor's not psychic and Tony's not that transparent.
(Is he?)
Tony's kept up with Loki via emails and text messages and witty one-liners, but in Tony's head, Loki is still eighteen and too tall and all long limbs and elbows and knees, still with that scattering of acne along the line of his jaw and a scowl that doesn't hide exactly how gorgeous his eyes are; he's still too much trouble wrapped up in school uniforms and fury, and even all the acne and gangliness and stuffy uniforms can't hide a forest fire beauty and wit lurking just beneath the surface.
(It is totally one thousand percent normal to think your once best friend still best conversationlist acquaintance is hot.)
Except, well.
Loki isn't eighteen anymore.
And he doesn't have acne.
Tony weaves and dodges through the people between them, not quite able to take his eyes off Loki, and--
Loki's still tall, and his hair is still raven sheen black, and his eyes still flash, and his laughter is still low and more of a chuckle than a full laugh, but the acne is gone and the.... uncertainty about how to hold himself, too--he's tall, and aware of it, and there's a confidence and coolness to him that Tony doesn't remember ever seeing before, and--
"Hey, nerd," Tony says, as casually as he can, and Loki turns and--
Still, green eyes, still that tiniest twitch of a smile that means its genuine--
"It's not a good sign when you start saying hello to yourself," Loki quips, easy, and his smile is just as easy, and when did he learn how to wear a suit?
(Fuck, a very very tiny part of Tony whispers with feeling.)
"But you answered anyway," Tony says, smug.
Loki chuckles, warm and Tony had almost forgotten the texture of it over all these years, even as Loki holds a hand out and they shake, strong, close, like friends do.
His chest is too warm, it almost hurts, and he rubs at it just a little, trying to ease the sudden heartburn when he hasn't even eaten yet.
He needs a drink.
Tony has, maybe, had several drinks.
(The ceremony was lovely, and Tony spent most of it staring at Loki, standing just to the right of Thor, expression perfectly servicably pleasant, emphasizing Thor's particular type of handsomeness, sure, but also just--how could anyone not be staring at Loki, when he's right there?)
There's dancing going on, and everyone else has also had several drinks, so Tony's not feeling too bad about his own steadily increasing intoxication, because he's not sure how else to be around a Loki who is this hot.
(Loki's always been hot.)
Plus it makes the occasional glimpse of Pepper more bearable, lets him be happy for her and not just bitter that he couldn't and can't be what she needed and needs.
It's a bit of a weird reversal though--seeing Loki out, mingling, while Tony tries to find the best corner to hide in and... not stare, because Tony does not stare at people, thanks.
Which might be why Loki is able to sneak up on him.
"There you are," Loki says, and he still sounds the same, sort of, though his voice is lower than sporadic late night phone calls have suggested.
"Oh, you found me, how about that," Tony says, trying not to slur too much.
(Has he really been drinking that much? Maybe he should slow down; his chest hurts again.)
"Mhm." Loki's watching him, and Tony finds his mind wandering back to a certain closet he saw earlier.
"You know," Tony says, "I saw a pretty convenient looking closet earlier."
"Oh?" Loki says, the tiniest bit of a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth up, eyes lighting up.
"We should probably make sure no one's using it for nefarious purposes," Tony adds.
"Like graduation."
"Exactly." Somehow (probably all the alcohol) Tony's managing to keep it together, managing to stay semi-solemn and not laugh.
"I suppose we should," Loki agrees, and while he's not quite as mock solemn as Tony, it's close enough, and then Loki's got an arm in his, like they're very old friends walking down the street in 1800s Paris, and this is, perhaps, what Tony's always loved about Loki, how natural things always feel with him.
"You got even hotter," Tony complains, coming up for air. He can't quite feel his lips, and they're probably red and swollen with how Loki's been nipping at them, and he's unfairly hard in his pants--and Loki's hard against him, too, both of them grinding on the other, and Tony's not sure where either of their ties have gotten to, just that the feel of Loki's hair is so so much better than he's remembered (dreamed) so many times in the intervening years and--
"I wasn't hot to begin with," Loki snorts.
It's probably the alcohol, but Tony lets go of Loki's hair and stops clawing into his shoulder for support to grab his face with both hands, make Loki look at him--that's a mistake, Tony realizes, because he's never quite known what to do with Loki looking at him directly, and that sure has not changed.
His heart hurts, his chest, it feels full to bursting and it's....
exquisite.
"You were always hot," Tony says, forcefully, and, When Loki looks surprised, flushes all down his face, along a jaw that Loki hated and Tony thought was just another part of Loki, he keeps going, because if he doesn't do something he's sure his heart is going to explode. "You were always hot, and now you're hotter and I love you so much you idiot, so shut up about this 'not being hot to begin with' nonsense."
This isn't having the desired effect, and it takes Tony's booze addled mind a second to catch up with what he said but--
it's true.
Even if now his face is catching fire, and Loki's grinning, a full grin, his wolf's grin, the one that's all teeth like he just made a kill and is ready to bring it home, and God, maybe Tony shouldn't have drank all that booze.
"You love me?" Loki repeats back, and Tony wants to die on the spot.
"Shut up," Tony says, letting go with one hand to push Loki's face back, but Loki's laughing, hauling Tony closer, and soon they're both shoving and grinding and laughing and it's ridiculous how even now, Loki makes him feel...
safe.
"You love me," Loki purrs against Tony's ear, and Tony just huffs.
"I'm glad I can stroke your ego," Tony snaps, but he's laughing, face red, and dick way way too hard pressed against his pants and Loki's thigh.
"You'll be stroking a lot more than that if I get my way," Loki says, a thumb rubbing right against the small of Tony's back, tip of his nose just barely touching Tony's nose. "I can't believe it took you this long to admit."
"Excuse me?"
"Less talking, more kissing," Loki says; before Tony can protest, they are kissing, and well, Tony has to say he doesn't mind this distraction at all.
He'll have to ask later.
(He has to make sure there is a later.)
For now, there's a make out to be had.