Friendship
Tony and Loki had quickly became friends, in the span of two weeks they had become basically inseparable, eating outside together with lunch, climbing through each other’s windows to hang out. (They were actually neighbours, and taking the front doors would be too risky.) They patched the other up if one of them had a bad day, helped each other with homework, (Tony was amazed at how easily languages came to Loki, and the other had called him a robot when he showed them their science notes.), and made fun of Loki’s brother and his friends together.
One day, while Tony was quietly reading a book inside his room (some dumb old book for English, it was incredibly boring), Loki stumbled through his window, lip and cheek bleeding, arm bent in a weird angle and bruises covering half his jaw. He quickly hurried over to them, shutting the window and curtains after making sure the boy wouldn’t faint on the spot. He would ask what had happened, but they both knew what, they were both very familiar with it. “Are you hurt anywhere else…?” he asked, leading Loki to his bed and making them sit down while he grabbed the first aid kit. “Ribs, l-leg ‘nd I-i think my arm migh-might be bro-broken” they stammered, looking down at the ground.
“Do you want to do it yourself or should I help?” Tony asked while holding the first aid kit and a wet towel, a sympathetic look on his face. “I-i can do it myse-myself” Loki answered, grabbing the kit and beginning to apply something desanitizing to their cuts. “Wanna talk about it…?” he tried, already knowing the answer. “No.” They replied, rolling up their pant sleeve to reveal a long, ugly cut on their leg. “Alright.” He accepted it, and sat next down to Loki to help them stabilise themselves.
It had been a month since the rooftop, and Tony barely even thought about it anymore, apart from remembering to check in on his friend once in a while, to make sure that they were okay. Grabbing his backpack from under his table, he slung it over his shoulder and excited the classroom, bored out of his mind from math, and tired as fuck from a long day of school. While walking down the hallway, he looked at his phone and noticed a message from Howard. Come home as soon as possible , need to talk. Fuck, that could never be anything good. He was so focused on worrying what the message could mean, that he bumped into someone.
“Hey!” someone shouted at him, and he quickly stood up to face whoever he had bumped into. Great, it was none other than Steve Rogers, the epitome of ‘rightenous’ and ‘justice’, aka hating Tony’s guts for simply existing, Steve being convinced he was secretly some arrogant, idiotic, massive bully. Which, okay, he could understand the arrogant part, he kind of was (mostly for the media anyways), but come on, a bully? When had he ever picked on someone without reason.
“Sup Steve?” he just replied, not wanting to bother and trying to walk away. “Arent you going to apologize Stark?” the blond demanded, and Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh great, amazing, wonderful Steve Rogers, I deeply apologise for daring to disturb you, how could you ever forgive me?” he dramatically sighed, putting his hand on his forehead and everything. “Just shut up you, you need to stop bothering people” Steve replied, even more annoyed. “Friend, I think you should not provoke Stark any further, for making a conflict would be foolish.” Thor put a hand on Rogers’ shoulder, smiling at Tony in the meantime.
Steve just glared at him, muttered something, and walked away, Thor following after him whilst throwing a quick ‘sorry’ Tony’s way. He just stood there a bit stunned, before continuing his journey to ‘home’. Walking up the driveway of the ridiculously sized mansion he lived in, he dreaded opening the front door and facing the undeniable wrath of Howard Stark. As soon as his keys rattled and the nightlock clicked off, he heard someone walking down the stairs. Entering the house, Tony was on guard, looking around with caution, expecting a shout or blow any moment. He turned out to be right, ofcourse, because as soon as he entered the living room, his father started shouting at him. He stiffened up, just standing still and taking the hurtful words, some he couldn’t even understand, but he was pretty sure Howard was yelling at him for skipping school detention multiple times.
In his defense, the detentions weren’t deserved, as Tony had simply acted in self defense by cursing out a teacher who threatened to destroy his robot. Apparently, paired with staying in the lab unsupervised after school hours, that got him 3 days detention, that he had decided to not attend. While thinking, his father kept getting closer and closer, until the man was all up in his face, now just ranting about how much of a ‘useless dumb shit’ he was. Fun. Howard suddenly grabbed him by his collar, and backhanded him hard, making Tony flinch. “Well, are you going to say anything?” The man spat, and he quickly replied with a sorry. Apparently, that wasn’t enough for Howard, and he grabbed a glass and smashed it on Tony’s shoulder, the sharp glass shards digging into his flesh painfully. Blinking back tears, he apologized again, and Howard dropped him. “I don’t want to hear from the school again Anthony.” The older man threatened, and he nodded. Satisfied, his father left him alone and walked out the door. Tony held in his breath till he heard the engine of their car start and drive away.
Stumbling to his room, holding his shoulder while walking the stairs, he grabbed the door handle with a bloodied hand. After he entered his room, he rummaged through some drawers for more bandages, but found out he’d run out. Sighing with defeat, he grabbed his phone and texted Loki, telling them to open their window. Slowly making his way to the front door, Tony climbed up the rain pipe of the Odinson’s house, wincing everytime he had to grab onto something with his bad shoulder. For the last part, he saw his friend’s hand reaching out for him, and he gratefully took it, letting them help haul him up. He fell through the window into Loki’s room, and he vaguely noticed them staring at their now blood coated hand, before wiping it on a towel and helping Tony stand up straight. “Need anything?” They asked, and he nodded, muttering something along the lines of bandages.
Loki grabbed something from his desk, and ordered Tony to pull his shirt down his shoulder. He complied, and saw them scrunch up their nose at the sight of clear bloody shards pointing out of his flesh. Grabbing some tweezers, tissues and antiseptic, they started pulling out the glass, letting Tony squeeze their arm a few times when there was a particularly painful piece. When they were all out, Loki put some antiseptic on a tissue and started applying it to the cuts, the sting and smell of the rust like liquid a familair distraction. Wrapping the bandages around his shoulder was a bit harder, Tony having to bend in weird angles to make sure it was applied correctly, but in the end it worked out, and there was only a bit of blood soaking through the white fabric. “Tha-Thanks” he said weakly, sitting down on Loki’s bed. “ ’S alright, you wanna talk about it?” They asked him, and while they always asked eachother this, and while they always both said no, this time Tony said yes. He was just so tired, and he needed to let all his feelings out for once, and who could understand more than a fellow abused teenage son of another rich influential man? He almost laughed at how similar they were.
He started telling Loki about how he got a text from Howard, how he knew that the man was going to be angry as soon as he got home, how his father yelled at him about school, how he hit his face, how he smashed on of their expensive liquor glasses into his shoulder, and how the injury started bleeding immediately, only getting worse after he tried to pull out one of the shards. Loki, not one for physical touch, just rubbed his back while Tony shouted and cried about how fucking unfair it all was. “I just want to stop the scars that grow, everytime I go ‘home’” he said the last part sarcastically, for home was supposed to be a safe place where he could feel comfortable and warm, not a cold and threatening place where he had to be on guard all the time. “Do you know for how long he’ll be gone?” They asked, and he answered with a short mumble. “2 days.” He let himself fall back on the bed, wincing as he realised that he hit his shoulder on a book. “Same, do you want to stay over? Thor will be gone all day anyways” they proposed, and Tony gratefully accepted the offer. It might still be a dangerous place, but atleast it wasn’t his own house.
“Movie night?” His friend asked, and he nodded. “Can I pick the movie?” He asked sweetly, trying his best to do puppy eyes. They sighed and rolled their eyes, but agreed. Turning on the TV opposite of Loki’s bed, he took his sweet time choosing an absolutely horrendous movie, eventually settling on Cats the Musical, making them groan with regret as Tony hit play. “Why in the absolute fuck would you choose this movie?” They asked exasperated, putting their head in their hands as the movie began. “Uh, because I wanted to?” He answered triumphantly, laughing as they threw a small pillow at him. Tony just stole on of their blankets, and put a pillow behind his shoulder for support. It still hurt, but it didn’t feel as bad when he remembered that he wasn’t alone. He kept being reminded that he wasn’t alone when they were both laughing at the bad CGI, he was (painfully) reminded of it when Loki flinched as they heard the front door being slammed shut, he was reminded when they walked the halls of school together, insults about being spoiled brats being thrown at them, and he was reminded when they slept over at each other’s house to escape their own.
It wasn’t perfect, but Tony had found someone with the same pain as him, and that was enough.