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A Brother's Count

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Tony mopes like a woman mopes. Pepper makes sure that mint chocolate chip ice cream is available all the time when Tony locks himself up in the basement for almost a month. When he does finally show his face, Thor is waiting right outside the door.

“I know--”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t. I mean, I did, but you know, I don’t always think with my head. Well, not the one on my shoulders in any case. And he came at me as a woman at first and it’s not like you can really resist a god...”

“...that you’re busy but if you would be kind enough to help me use the poptart making machine I would be most appreciative.”

Tony blinked. Thor raised an eyebrow. Tony blinked again. Thor glared. “And on this matter, I will have words with you.”

“Right.”

“He’s my brother, Stark.”

“I know. I totally know.”

“You know what I will do with you if you hurt him.”

“Well, he kind of hurt me more...”

“Stark.”

“Right. Brother. I will not hurt him.”

Thor glared at him for good measure before sighing. “Loki is...difficult. He’s hard to understand and talks in riddles. But...he’s worth it. If you can manage to hang on.” Thor seemed to be grinning at an old memory before slapping Tony on the back. “Well, then Stark. Help me with the poptart making machine.”

“It’s called a ‘toaster’ big guy.”

“It makes poptarts does it not?”

“Well, yes, it does but--”

“Then it is a poptart making machine!”

“...Right. Yes. Whatever you say Thor. Poptart making machine.”