A/N- Written for grey, who gave me this prompt as a reward for finishing writing my RL novel's latest chapter. I've discovered that fanfic is a great reward for performing like good little writer in real life lol. On that note, this is my first ever Avengers fic. It's A/U (as in no Avengers powers), it's slash, obviously, and as it's my first I'm a little nervous about my characterizations. I just dove right in and went right with Tony as a main character, so it could be great, or complete crap. We'll see. Anyway regardless, here it is. Enjoy.

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He stood there looking absolutely ridiculous in those boots, mainly because only five people in the entire world knew that they were a dare, but he didn't really care much that the little old ladies driving by in their old, boxy cars were staring.

Still, the boots were a little itchy and he couldn't stop from shoving his hand between the knitted material bunched up around his knee and the thick black hair on his legs, itching until he'd probably scratched a spot bloody.

Tony sighed, wishing he'd remembered to bring his pack of cigarettes, or at least the flask he kept on hand for emergencies such as this—a ridiculous dare he'd agreed to the night before while completely drunk and losing horribly at poker. Now that he thought about it, he figured it was some sort of bullshit conspiracy against him anyway because Tony had never been any good at Poker.

It probably had something to do with his damn boyfriend, who should probably be denied sex at this point, because it was probably Steve's damn idea for him to accost the new guy to begin with. It would be just like Steve, frankly, seeing as he couldn't stand the thought of some poor guy all alone, no friends, no one to get drunk and do stupid things with.

Tony sighed and scratched at the other leg which, for some reason, wasn't nearly as itchy as his right was. He looked down at his outfit, shorts, Clint's The Angels Have the TARDIS t-shirt which was just way to damn small on him to be considered presentable, and Natasha's sweater boots. "They're designer, meaning they cost more than your drunken life will ever be worth. Stain them, rip them, breathe on them wrong, and I will kill you."

He gave a little groan and hopped from one foot to the other. He scanned the neighborhood, absolutely certain that if they weren't sleeping off their hangovers, they were probably piled ass to elbows into Steve's ridiculous, environmentally friendly smart car, watching him. Probably laughing and getting stoned. Well, everyone but Steve who, though he'd take a dick in the ass, wouldn't take the edge off because God didn't approve of drugs.

The sound of a heavy iron door slamming shut startled Tony out of his irritated musings and his head whipped over to the front door which had just opened and shut in the newly occupied house. Tony didn't live in this neighborhood, he'd always been way too rich for his own good and the very idea of living in the suburbs was nauseating. But this house was nice. Nice enough, anyway.

He realized how creepy he must look standing on the poor guy's lawn like this, in that damn outfit—those bastards would never make anything easy on him, would they—and he started walking forward, taking in the man's appearance.

He was tall, like freaky tall, hair a little greasy, black, little bit of a curl to it. But his face… goddamn the man had a beautiful face. His features were sharp, that sort of chiseled out of marble by fucking fairies sort of gorgeous, and his wide eyes were ice blue.

But yeah, they guys had been right, because Tony could smell awkward from a mile away. He was thin to the point where it seemed like he wasn't sure how to move gracefully, and the jeans and t-shirt seemed to hang off his body. He was staring at Tony with those impossibly blue eyes, his thin eyebrows knotted with a frown, and Tony wondered if the guy, being kind of thin and probably pretty helpless, was packing or something.

Tony had been threatened way too many times to be considered a coincidence, and really he wasn't in the mood to talk down some dude with a gun. "Hey," Tony said, striding forward. "I'm Tony."

The man stood there, looking absolutely perplexed, and maybe a little petrified. "Can I help you?" he asked. The guy had a very poignant British accent and there was an edge to his voice that gave Tony the chills.

"Uh well yeah um…" Tony said, getting actually pissed now that he was in these fucking boots, and how the hell was he supposed to get this guy to agree to hang out in a basement and watch Doctor Who with them. He probably looked like Buffalo Bill, ready to peel the guy's skin off and make lamps and shit with it.

The man approached the edge of his porch and stared down at the grass like it was made of boiling hot lava or something, and put his hand on his porch railing. He stared at Tony expectantly and Tony realized that he did actually have to finish his sentence.

"So you're cool with gay guys right?" he blurted. Never one to mince words, Tony actually liked debating with the anti-gays so he wasn't afraid of the answer.

"Sure," the guy said.

Tony deflated a little. Being dressed like a moron kind of made him want a conflict right now, because he needed to take his mind off of his idiot friends who were so going to pay for this. "Well okay so, my boyfriend lives right there," Tony said, nodding to the house directly across the street. "He um, well he noticed that you moved in from out of town and we figured, if you were cool and not some sort of maniac or homophobic douche bag, you might want to come hang out. Every Sunday we have a Doctor Who marathon in his basement, which may or may not lead to some really fucked up situations involving a lot of liquor, poker and fucking bullshit dares," he nodded down at the boots, kicking one foot up for emphasis. "But they'd probably go easy on you since you're the new guy. So… interested?"

The guy hesitated. "I'm not…"

Frustrated, Tony said, "Look man, I'll pay you. Seriously. If you don't say yes I have to wear these fucking things for a week, and I might be a total homo but these are women's boots, and they're itchy and ugly and my god I can't figure out why she'd ever wear these. I swear, there'll be booze and food, and I will find some way to bribe you, okay? Name your price." Tony was breaking all of the rules by this point, but he didn't care. His friends weren't in hearing distance, and even Clint, who was deaf as a post and a freaky good lip-reader, was way too far away to be able to make anything out… even if he had eyes like a hawk.

"I'm Loki," the man finally said.

Tony's eyes widened. "Loki? Okay well that's a good start. Is that a yes?"

Loki hesitated and it was right then that Tony noticed that there was a funny sort of glint in Loki's eyes that made him wonder if he was going to regret this. Badly. Which happened to him. A lot.

"Maybe," Loki finally said.

Tony sighed. "Look man, anything okay. I'll give you anything. I'm Tony Stark, as in THE Tony Stark. Okay? As in I have more money than I will ever know what to do with and I swear I will give you anything."

Loki hesitated and then said, "I need a boyfriend."

Tony sputtered a little, taken completely by surprise. That was not what he had been expecting, at all. Frankly he wasn't sure what he expected, but damn this guy was… different. He tried to read Loki's expression, but his marble face was completely passive and he was reminded of Steve for a minute. "Um. Well pal, the thing is, I'm sort of taken. Like really taken. Like the minute they legalize gay marriage here I'm going to hire a bunch of dudes to pull off a flash-mob proposal that costs me millions of dollars kind of taken. So… I can't really help you."

Loki hesitated. "But you said you had friends, right?"

Tony groaned. "Uh yeah… I guess…"

"Ask one of them." That was not a request, and Tony's eyebrow quirked up. He was good, this guy. He was no shy wallflower, as much as Steve insisted he was just some sort of sorry loner with no friends.

Tony looked down at the boots, and considered abandoning ship. I mean they weren't really that bad, were they? He pictured himself trying to hold a board meeting in shorts and these fucking boots. Not like any of his partners or investors would actually be surprised by Tony's appearance—nothing he did surprised anyone anymore—but no. He couldn't bring himself to do that. And he had a fuck-ton of meetings that week. Damn it.

"Yeah okay, let me see what I can do," Tony finally said.

"The thing is, I'm having a bit of trouble with some people at my job and I need to make a…" Loki hesitated, cocking his head to the side and for the first time Tony actually saw a true expression on his face. "I need to make a statement."

Well that was, again, unexpected. Tony was getting really tired of standing out on this guys' lawn, and really tired of wearing the damn boots. "Yeah okay, I think I can do that." Truth was, Bruce was pretty effing gay and didn't have a boyfriend because well, he was a little socially awkward and people found him a little off-putting. "Where do you work?"

"I work at the state University. I've just started actually, this week," Loki said.

"Well that's convenient because the guy I have in mind works there, too," Tony said, and found it a sort of odd coincidence, but he wasn't going to read too much into it. He wanted to get one up on his bastard friends. "So we have a deal."

"Do we?" Loki asked, a small smile creeping into his thin lips, and Tony backed up a step.

"Well yeah… don't we?" Tony asked. "You need a fake boyfriend, I said I can produce."

"You said you think you can. I'll go once we have a solid agreement," Loki said, folding his hands together in front of him.

Tony groaned. "Fine. Look." He stopped and glanced back at Steve's house. He saw movement in the front window which meant that they were still inside the house, not prowling the neighborhood like a bunch of creepers, and at least one of them was awake. "Let me go talk to my so-called friend and I'll let you know."

"I'm heading out to the market, but I'll be back in an hour," Loki said, and without even giving Tony a moment to provide Loki with his usual, inappropriate, sarcastic parting quips, he disappeared back inside his house.

At that point Tony didn't really care anymore. He wanted out of the boots and the stupid shirt, and he wanted to kill his friends, and he really wanted to know what was up with that Loki guy, anyway. He stormed across the street and marched into Steve's house.

Luckily Steve had an obsessive compulsive no-shoes-in-the-house rule so Tony toed off the boots and tossed them into the corner where all of Steve's shoes lay in a neat row. He could smell coffee brewing, thank god, and he marched into the kitchen where Bruce sat, looking sullen as usual. Steve stood at the stove whistling to himself as he scrambled up way too many eggs for five people.

"How'd it go?" Bruce asked, his face hovering just above his cup of coffee.

"Well I can tell you one thing, Bruce, you're going to love this guy," Tony said, putting on his most charming smile as he fetched a cup for his own coffee. He took it black and bitter, just like his heart—or so Natasha was always telling him. "I mean really, I can't wait for you to meet him."

"You're up to something," Steve cut in, poking his spatula at Tony's chest, splattering half-scrambled eggs on the floor. Steve's eyes went wide with horror and he grabbed a paper towel to mop up the mess as Tony took over the cooking without even being asked to. "What's going on, Tony?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Tony said. "I'm just saying that when I met the guy he just seemed like Bruce's kind of guy. Not like that, not like that," Tony assured them as they fixed him with a glare. Tony had sent poor Bruce on so many fantastically failed set ups that he'd been banned from trying to play cupid ever again. "He works at the University with you."

"What department?" Bruce asked. Tony could tell any time Bruce's interest was piqued by the way Bruce suddenly spoke with inflection in his voice.

"Hmm well I kind of forgot to ask," Tony replied.

"So why would you think we'd get along if you don't even know what field the guy is in?" Steve asked accusingly, snatching the spatula away from Tony before he messed everything up, which he probably would because Tony did not cook. Ever.

"Call it a gut feeling," Tony said, grabbing his coffee and sitting at the breakfast counter near Bruce. He gave the burly man a wink which Bruce ignored.

"Having been at the receiving end of your 'gut feelings'," Bruce said, "I'll say I'm not interested."

"Well you're going to have to talk to him at some point," Tony said. "I mean he's coming over for Doctor Who night."

Bruce looked at him sharply. "You actually got him to agree?"

"Mostly," Tony said. Their pressing gaze fierce on his face, Tony threw up his hands, "I mean okay, I'm working on it. Bruce, can I talk to you for a minute alone?"

"No," Steve said, crossing his arms. "Leave him out of this."

"Look this is between me and one of my best friends, okay," Tony said, throwing his arm around Bruce. "Not everything has to include my boyfriend."

"It's fine." Bruce said with a sigh. "I've learned how to tell this asshole no."

Tony laughed heartily as he grabbed his coffee and ushered Bruce upstairs to the game room he'd set up solely for his own pleasure, as Steve was definitely not the video game type of guy. He flopped down on the beanbag sofa that Steve had protested very firmly until Tony showed him how much fun it could really be, and looked up at his scowling friend.

"You're obviously up to something."

Tony threw up his hands. "Yeah you caught me."

"You were being obvious."

Tony sighed and rolled onto his stomach, laying there despite it being incredibly uncomfortable. "Look, we both know I was way too drunk to be agreeing to dares. I have six important business meetings this week and I cannot show up in those fucking boots, okay?"

Bruce quirked a smile, looking away to keep from laughing. "Okay."

"This guy is a little… off. But in a quirky good way," Tony amended when Bruce fixed him with a glare. "I mean he's nice, okay, just a little… he seems a little insecure. I figure if anyone can understand that, you can. No offense," he quickly added.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "So what do you want from me, exactly?"

"He just needs someone to pretend to be his boyfriend at work," Tony said very quickly. "I mean, you're already out at work. People are trying to fix you up left and right and I figure since you're not seeing anyone and this guy just needs a fake boyfriend, and hey maybe you guys can choreograph like a huge fight scene to break up or something, and you know… what could it hurt? Huh? Buddy?"

Bruce's face was a little red, but he sighed. "And what's in it for me?"

"Anything," Tony said, sitting up. He realized he was actually making headway with Bruce and he was ready to pounce. "I swear to god, anything. Need grants? Money? New wardrobe? Hooker?"

Bruce gave a little snort of laughter as he stood there in thought way too long for Tony's comfort. Finally, he shrugged and said, "I'm going to just call it a favor you owe me."

Tony groaned. Owing people favors never worked out for him, but it was this or the boots, and Bruce was a Buddhist and unlike Clint and Natasha tended to be a little less cruel when calling in favors from people. "Fine," he agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bed in the next room rhythmically smacking against the wall and Natasha's giggling, which Clint, who couldn't really hear her laughter, didn't seem to mind if his grunts were anything to go by.

"Need to remind Steve to scour that room," Tony groaned as he and Bruce hurried back downstairs away from the noise.

The over-sexed couple came downstairs a half hour later to a cooling breakfast, but it didn't seem to bother them as they devoured the eggs, toast and fruit Steve had prepared. Tony sat at the table, his head resting on Steve's shoulder, his eyes half-closed. He was still pretty hung-over, though the events of the morning had taken his mind off of his pounding head.

'I realize you can't hear shit but you're welcome to try and keep sexcapades down,' Tony signed lazily, spelling out the word 'sexcapades' slowly.

Clint responded with a middle finger and Natasha laughed. "How were the boots this morning?"

"I hate you," Tony snapped.

"Any luck with our neighbor friend?" Clint asked, his words muffled by the nearly whole piece of toast he'd shoved into his mouth.

"Yes, in fact. Bruce and I are heading over there in a bit to confirm with our new best friend," Tony said. "So fuck you both for that dare, and I'll say it again, you'll never win."

"Moments of your humiliation is all I'll ever need," Natasha said with a curved smile. "They all add up and when I die, I pray that those are the moments that flash before my eyes."

Clint signed something under the table that Tony couldn't see, but whatever it was made Natasha blush—and she never blushed, ever—so Tony guessed it was pretty effing dirty and he reveled in the moment where he was proud to be their friends. Bruce insisted on showering before meeting Loki, so it was well over an hour before Tony was able to drag Bruce out the door.

He was still in the boots, so he was pretty pissed off, and he made it a point to stomp up the porch stairs to Loki's front door. He had to ring the bell three times before Loki answered, looking a little better in more fitted clothes and he'd obviously taken a shower.

"Come in," Loki said, eyeing Bruce for several moments before opening the door wide.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, glaring at Tony as they passed by Loki and into the house. The place was huge, bigger than Steve's house with tile floors and a kitchen that opened right into the living room. The man was well off, and he was probably a cook of some sort because he had every kitchen gadget Tony could imagine.

His place wasn't very furnished, but then again, if it hadn't been for Steve and Pepper getting together to take over Tony's apartment, Tony's place wouldn't have been much better. Loki led them to the living room where the ugliest, but soon Tony discovered the most comfortable couch he'd ever sat on, waited for them.

"Holy shit, where did you get this?" Tony asked, ignoring all semblance of manners and stretched out on the cushions. "I mean god it's hideous but I think I could probably spend the rest of my life laying here."

"I brought it with me over from London," Loki said, not taking his eyes off Bruce. "I expect… sorry I've forgotten your name," Loki said to Tony.

Tony was offended. Very offended. No one forgot his name. Everyone remembered Tony Stark. "Uh Stark. Tony Stark," he said only trying only a little not to go James Bond on him.

"Right," Loki said, ignoring his terrible faux pas. "I expect Tony explained my proposition in order to end the consequences to his drunken dare."

Bruce's mouth quirked into a small smile. "He did."

"And it sounds agreeable?"

Bruce hesitated. "How long, and what would you expect me to do? I work at the university and my reputation is fairly important to me," he explained.

"What department?"

At this point Tony completely zoned out and closed his eyes to picture himself tying Steve to his bed back at his apartment, stripping him slowly, licking various sugared items off of Steve's taut, naked body, making him beg—

"Tony!" Bruce said, interrupting the fantasy.

Tony opened his eyes with a glare. "What?"

"We can go now," Bruce said.

Tony sat up. "Oh. So gentlemen, we're agreed then?"

"We've reached a mutual understanding," Loki said.

"Good. Excellent. So I can take these stupid things off—" Tony started to tug at the boots, but Bruce stopped him.

"Uh, not so fast," Bruce said. "We didn't agree to fake date."

Tony' face fell. "Wait. What?"

"We've decided that it would be best," Loki said. "With that, I'm afraid I cannot make it to your gathering Sunday. My apologies," but Tony didn't think Loki sounded sorry at all. Nor did Bruce, come to that, and he was not happy.

Tony spent the afternoon raging at Bruce until Bruce decided to go home. Clint and Natasha even decided to call it a night, and by the time Tony and Steve settled into bed, even Steve had enough of Tony's bitching.

"You know, maybe this is a good lesson for you," Steve lectured as he ran floss between his impossibly perfect teeth.

"Oh, do tell," Tony snapped, refusing to shower, brush his teeth or shave until they let him out of the dare.

"Stop getting stupid drunk," Steve chastises.

"Oh should I, Mr One Beer Ever?" Tony grumbled, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "Maybe you should just be a better boyfriend and stop letting me get myself into stupid situations."

Steve laughed as he pulled back the covers and slid under the bed. He moved up next to Tony, who hissed at Steve's cold skin, but he didn't push him away. "You honestly think anything I could say or do would stop you from getting yourself into these stupid situations?"

Tony wanted to argue but Steve was kissing him right then right in that spot near his ear and all Tony could do was grunt a little as Steve began snaking his hand down there, right where Tony wanted him to, and before long Tony had forgotten about the boots, or the weird neighbor, or his meeting in the morning.

Of course the sex-brain didn't last long, because the next morning Steve was off to work and Tony was getting ready and as much as he wanted to just say fuck it and throw the boots in the trash and tell Natasha to occupy her mouth with Clint's cock because that's all she was really good for, he was a man of his word. And if he didn't have his word, all he had was money and that was not Tony Stark.

So he conducted his first board meeting in those stupid sweater boots and a pair of Steve's khaki shorts, and he hated himself, but it was okay because when the meeting was over he was going right back to Loki's house and he was going to make that son of a bitch agree to their Doctor Who night.

Of course it didn't happen the way he planned because one of his factories had a melt down and Tony ended up working at Stark Towers all through the night, and in onto Tuesday. And Tuesday night Steve brought him curry and a bottle of wine and they ate and drank and had cramped sex in his office bathroom, Tony taking Steve from behind as Steve held on to the sink and cried out so loud Tony was sure the entire building heard him.

By Wednesday Tony was exhausted, too sober, he hadn't had a cigarette in ages, and his legs were covered in scabs from where he couldn't stop goddamn itching. He'd had enough. He canceled his evening meetings and took his Corvette, tearing down the neighborhood street going a hundred and ten, peeling to a stop in front of Loki's house.

He didn't even know the man, or know if he would ever like him but he would be damned if anyone forgot his name or told him no or refused one of his bribes. He kicked in the door just like he always saw in the movies and laughed out loud when it actually worked.

And he thought it was a miracle that no one heard him until he saw the two figures on that stupidly comfortable couch making out like a couple of teenagers. It was worse when Tony noticed the shaggy black hair of Bruce arching beneath the impossibly gorgeous mouth of Loki, and the pair had the nerve to look bothered instead of ashamed of themselves.

"Are you joking? Is this a sick joke?" Tony demanded. He kicked off the boots and threw them at Loki and Bruce, hitting them both as they laughed and batted the flying footware to the side.

"It seemed there was a mutual attraction," Bruce said, sitting up a little, despite Loki not really giving him any room to actually move.

"This is… I don't even…" Tony sputtered. No one made Tony speechless and he was not happy. He stormed up to them, leaning down and putting his finger in their faces. "You will both be there on Sunday. And you will goddamn bring Natasha her stupid boots. If you don't, I will blow up your houses with you in them, I swear to god. Don't… Tempt… me."

And then Tony stormed out and anger-fucked Steve, which Tony knew was Steve's favorite anyway, because despite his obsessive compulsive personality, and his way of deferring everything to God, and the fact that he was the kind of guy who rescued kittens from trees—Tony had actually seen Steve do that, twice—he really liked it rough.

Then Tony did feel better, and they ate junk food and watched Monty Python movies until Tony fell asleep with his head in Steve's lap.

Sunday came around and Tony was busy ignoring the cat-calls from Clint and Natasha who took no small pleasure in reminding Tony that if Loki didn't show, the failed dare punishment was going to be a lot worse than the dare.

Steve forced Tony to sit down and handed him a beer before getting their DVD's set up. This Sunday was a season four marathon, which was usually Tony's favorite because of all the companions Tony was definitely a Donna and pretty much everything she ever said felt like the catch phrase to his entire life. But Tony just couldn't relax until he saw Bruce and his stupid boyfriend walk through the door.

And they did, as everyone cheered, and Steve gave Tony a little kiss on the cheek. Loki looked somewhat uncomfortable and kept his distance from everyone, but greeted everyone as politely as possible.

A few hours in, Loki seemed a little better, sitting next to Tony on the furthest couch as they shared a joint while Steve busied himself at the make-shift kitchen, putting together some munchies while Bruce leaned over the counter chatting to him about god only knew what. Clint and Natasha were making out, again, which Tony had learned to ignore years ago.

"So was it all a big joke?" Tony asked, blowing out smoke and waving it out of his face.

Loki shrugged, his face a little more relaxed than it had been the times Tony had seen him previously. "I suppose. Bruce and I met in the University Café and I chatted him up. He said yes, we went out, had sex, and then he told me about the dare. He said Clint had watched me moving my things in and came up with it."

"He's such a dick," Tony grumbled, taking a swig of his beer. "So Bruce, ever the knight in shining armor, pre-warned you about what I had to do?"

"He asked me to refuse the Doctor Who night. He said he owed you for the last set-up."

Tony remembered the guy with the grey tooth and the fishnet fetish, still holding fast to the claim that he had no idea what the guy was into, but he still laughed and shrugged. "I guess yeah, he kind of did."

"How long have you and Steve been together?"

"Three years," Tony said.

"And you really want to marry him?"

"Someday," Tony said. "I mean granted, the guy is insane. I mean, trying to understand him is like trying to navigate the streets of Tokyo armed with a Spanish dictionary and a map of Brooklyn," he paused to watch Steve obsessively scrub at a small piece of burnt cheese on the baking pan. "But I love the nutcase. He's had a rough past."

"Haven't we all?" Loki asked, his eyes going a little sad. But he lightened up a little as his gaze fell on Bruce, and Bruce, noticing that they were staring at him, looked over and smiled a little.

Tony felt something warm in the center of his chest, something good. Something great. He was happy. Bruce was happy now, and Clint and Natasha weren't ever really happy but they could fuck each other and that at least made theme content. Even if Loki wasn't really a nice guy—and hell who was Tony to judge, he was a class A douche most of the time—he thought that Loki could fit in there with them pretty well.

A few hours later, Bruce left with Loki, and they left Clint and Natasha passed out on the couches and went upstairs. Steve locked the door, and obsessive habit Tony didn't mind after a drunk Clint climbed into bed with them and started making out with Steve one night, and settled down under the covers.

"You seriously need a shower," Tony said, burying his face in Steve's hair which reeked of smoke and sweat.

"And you need Jesus," Steve retorted playfully and kissed Tony on the side of the face.

They were too tired and Tony was too drunk to really do anything, but he was content in Steve's arms and he started to drift off.

"They're cute together, aren't they," Steve said. "That Loki is a good looking guy."

"I'd be jealous if it wasn't so damn true," Tony muttered.

"Well don't worry, he can't live up to your assholery," Steve said, which startled Tony because Steve almost never cursed. Unless it was at him, but even then it wasn't often.

Tony had to laugh though, and he did, burying the noise in the side of Steve's neck. "That's true. It is pretty epic."

"I'm just glad to see Bruce happy. It's hard to see your friends miserable when your life is this great."

Tony gave a contented sigh. Yeah it is, isn't it? But he was too tired to say it aloud, so he let his head fall down and hoped that his warm arms and soft sighs got the message across. Steve kissed him on the top of the head, so he guessed that message was received, and he was happy.