
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1090122.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies), Marvel_Cinematic_Universe, Thor_(Movies),
      Iron_Man_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Loki/Tony_Stark
  Character:
      Loki_(Marvel), Tony_Stark, Bruce_Banner, Clint_Barton, Pepper_Potts, Thor
      (Marvel), Natasha_Romanov, Phil_Coulson, Nick_Fury, Steve_Rogers, Odin_
      (Marvel), Frigga_(Marvel), Howard_Stark, Canon_Character(s), Original
      Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Minor_Violence,
      Homophobic_Language
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-20 Updated: 2014-01-12 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2445
****** Children of Nowhere ******
by Silverling
Summary
     Tony Stark is pretty content with his lifestyle. He drinks, he
     parties and he'll attend his British public school for the sake of
     it. But with the arrival of new pupils also comes rivalry and
     despise. Is Tony Stark capable of accepting another human being into
     his heart?
Notes
     This is my very first posted fan fiction ever, so I'm pretty anxious
     about it all. Non the less, lets sail this SHIP!
     This is a contemporary AU set in Britain without any actual movie
     references, just a few nods here and there. The characters are
     seventeen years of age at the beginning of the story. Explicit
     shenanigans will follow in later chapters.
     Fic art can be found on my Tumblr: athousandvines.tumblr.com
     I hope you'll all enjoy!
     - Silverling
***** Prologue *****
 

                             Chapter_one: Prologue
 
Alright. First off, I’d like to say a few things. Yes, it’s an awesome
lifestyle. We own cars, have trust funds and we’ve seen more of the world than
most late teens have. Or ever will for that fact. And yes, it’s private schools
and dinner parties etcetera etcetera. However, if your parent is a diplomat or
a big shot of any kind it also means being homeless. You may have a roof over
your head (with ornamented ceiling and chandelier) but if you live somewhere
for five years without having to pack your stuff and tag along to the next
destination, it’s anactual luxury. You can’t afford to make friends without
suffering heart break. Let alone any serious romantic relationship. We are
raised by our nannies and fed by our cooks. And if you don’t have any siblings,
like myself, it tends to get lonely. So you have to entertain yourself. Also
not always a good thing. Apparently I’m starting to have a reputation. Or maybe
have one already. A solid one. But as I was saying, it’s not all that fancy-
pansy to be living the great life. Kids like us have more issues than Amsterdam
has coffee shops. Because we are the children of nowhere.
But I’m seriously setting the wrong tone here. This story is about me, so you
are bound to have a good time. Enjoy the ride.
 
-Tony Stark
***** Septem *****
Chapter Notes
     Happy sunday everyone! I'm so sorry I didn't post the first "real"
     chapter sooner, but you know how it goes during the winter break:
     Holidays, family, work (dispite the idea of freedom) and whatnot.
     My goal is to post a chapter once every two weeks, so I'm going to
     try my best to keep that as a deadline for myself.
     Thank you so much for the kind words, the kudo's and bookmarks! They
     mean a lot!
     -Silverling
                               Chapter_2: Septem
                                        
It was October, the first semester started seven weeks ago at The International
School of Oxford. The school was grand and glorious. It was a school for the
striving young men and women the past hundred and fifty years. The Victorian
building was flooded with the bright warm colours seeping through the tainted
glass, the lights and shadows falling on to its cold and grey stone. It had
harboured knowledge and bright minds for decades, and though its glory days of
thrive may have ended, it still stood. Solid and undisputed as the days of old.
And only after seven weeks of the new year in this academic masterpiece, Tony
Stark already had his first serious conversation with the schools Deputy
Headmaster.

‘Deputy! Long-time no see, sir.’ Tony grinned widely when he entered the
office. Deputy Headmaster Coulson seemed all but pleased, sliding his reading
glasses down to the tip of his nose while he kept his eyes on his paperwork.
‘Don’t look so smug, Stark. Sit down.’
Coulson pointed with his pen to the chair across his desk. Tony sat down and
quietly waited for Coulson to finish his paperwork. He actually liked Coulson,
as far as he could like any teacher. Coulson was a man who seemed to remember
what it was like to be seventeen. Unlike most of the teaching staff, or any
adult in general, Tony had ever encountered. Tony noted a change of furniture
and pointed it out to Coulson. ‘I like the new rug. It gives a personal touch.’
Coulson took of his glasses. ‘Yes, Stark. Alas you are one of the few students
who would be able to note such small change in an office he shouldn’t be in as
much as he is.’ He sighed. ‘Tony. We made a deal before the beginning of the
summer break. Why haven’t you kept it?’
Tony threw his hand up apologetically, ‘Well it’s the seventh week of the new
year, I’d say I’m trying really hard to keep in line, don’t you agree?’
‘No, unfortunately I don’t.’ he sounded somewhat grim. Oh dear. ‘Tony. You are
not in a position anymore to wreak your usual havoc. You have wasted a lot of
goodwill over the past two years and I’m running out of cards to play and
options to keep.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve been ordered by Headmaster
Fury to… he put it quite eloquently: Keep you on a shorter leash. Or he will
start dealing with your insubordinations in person.’
Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Coulson put his hand up to silence him.
‘Tony, all I’m asking you to do is behave properly. Or else your care is out of
my hands.’ He smiled lightly. ‘And we both know how you and Headmaster Fury
tend to get along.’
Tony huffed, ‘Yeah…’
‘So. I think I’ve made myself clear. I hope not to see you soon, Tony Stark.’
Tony nodded. ‘Likewise sir.’ Coulson put his reading glasses back on and waved
towards the door. ‘Off you go!’ Tony left without saying another word, only to
mumble after the office door closed behind him: ‘Well shit.’

'That bad, huh?' Unable to speak with his chicken stuffed mouth he nodded to
his friend. Bruce Banner was your stereotypical nice guy. Also American by the
way. His father was an honorary scientist for some institute. Tony had insisted
he'd tell about his father’s job, considering that of his own father, but Bruce
refused. He claimed it was "classified". This only sparked Tony's interest
further and after Tony's continued nagging Bruce told him that they'd used to
live in Syria, but due to the nature of his father’s work it became unsafe to
stay, so they left for the States, only to move to London a week later. And
Bruce said he was never told anything but of a few hours’ notice. "Bag pack
time" he had called it. He moved here three years ago with nothing but his
sports bag full of clothes, for the rest had been left in the Middle-East.
Yikes. Tony dropped the subject from that moment on.
Tony stared at the teachers table. The headmaster was seated in the middle with
a hard look on his face. Headmaster Nicolas Fury was a tall menacing African-
American man who, believe it or not, had a glass eye. He was only an eye patch
away of being the epitome of a Bond villain.
'Gofdam Fhury.' he swallowed. 'Tighten my leash... The nerve.' Bruce snickered
'Well, you do piss him off on a daily basis. Coulson is right, you should-'
Tony interrupted Bruce while waving his fork around; 'What, obey Lord Fury, the
one-eyed god?'
Bruce cocked his brow 'No. Behave. Could you pass me the bread? Thank you. What
I'm trying to say, is that it’s your final year.' He eyed Tony. 'Try not to go
out with a bang.'
Tony snorted; 'But isn’t that the best way to go?' Bruce sighed and ignored him
as he wiped imaginary crumbs of his trousers. He knew Tony Stark well enough
that when he cut off a conversation, that was the end of it. ‘Anyway, Clint
asked me if you were still up for tonight?’
Tony blinked as he quickly took a sip of his cup. ‘As if I’d ever refuse such a
warm hearted invitation.’
‘As if you’d ever reject the chance to get up to no good.’ Bruce snorted.
Tony got up with his plate and patted Bruce on the shoulders. ‘Lighten up, with
that attitude you’ll get nowhere in life. Well, except maybe a position as
deputy headmaster.’ He grinned and left his friend alone at their table. ‘See
you later!’ He yelled over his shoulder while dumping his dirty plate next to a
first year pupil who eyed him incredulously. Bruce sighed audibly before
reaching for his chemistry book. ‘Peace at last.’
===============================================================================

The International School of Oxford was originally a school primarily for young
men of wealthy descent. You heard it, a private school for boys. Once the
Oxford Institute, as it used to be called, was forced to deal with its
declining interest in separate private schooling it fused with the Oxford
Catholic School for Girls several years back. Of course noted as progressive
change. During the time we were still in our diapers, excuse me, nappies.
However, keeping its segregated buildings only to exchange interaction with
extracurricular activities such as theatre plays and whatnot. Fear of raging
male hormones driven teen pregnancies in mind probably. After some financial
setbacks in funding, the two schools were forced to fuse once more with another
school, the International Academy of London, since those schools were all under
the same doming academic structure. So TISO was born. However, with now a
student body of 1500 students, it was forced to find accommodations which could
hold this large amount of people. Which of course they didn’t have, so TISO
existed of three buildings; One for academic purposes and two others for
housing. In theory, TISO functions as a boarding school. But in practice, every
kid hopped into their by daddy funded sports car after the final classes on
Friday and headed home. Home was in most cases; London.

Tony didn’t mind going home for the weekends. He wasn’t fond of it either. His
father, Howard, worked long hours at his own internationally successful
corporation Stark Industries. Sometimes he would go home and tinker on his
motorcycle or on his computers. Both hard and software wise. But there were
also weekends in which he didn’t feel like going home or accept an invitation
from his friends. He would stay at his dorm at TISO, digging through books,
scribbling barely readable notes and surf the internet for articles about
engineering, which sometimes were published by his father’s company. But
honestly, most of Tony’s free time was spend partying. So when you’re
reprimanded by your academic institute, nothing says “fuck this shit” more than
shotting three jagerbombs in a hot London club in the company of your friends.

Tony downed the last drink and shook his head violently. ‘I fucking love
alcohol!’ he shouted to Bruce, standing next to him at the bar, trying to be
heard over the loud music pumping through the speakers.
‘As your friend, I’m obliged to tell you that’s not a very constructive love
affair.’ Bruce yelled back. Tony silently mouthed to his friend ‘I can’t hear
you’ while pointing to his ears. ‘How convenient!’ Bruce laughed tiredly. Tony
looked back to the dance floor while complaining about the music. ‘What’s up
with this Skrillex shit? It sounds like a computer having an orgasm!’ Bruce
pointed to the middle of the floor ‘Clint seems to be enjoying himself!’ So it
seemed he was. He looked like he popped a pill or two (maybe he had) as he was
exorbitantly throwing his entire body back and forth to the beat. The
surrounding crowd seemed to be making space out of fear for physical injury.
Tony snickered, ‘What an idiot.’
He looked around. ‘Why isn’t Steve here yet?’ Bruce sipped from his beer, ‘His
mother had some fancy dinner party which he was obliged to attend. Didn’t he
tell you?’ ‘Dunno. Might have. And Natasha?’
‘Natasha went to Somerset with her parents for the weekend. Honestly Tony, do
you even pay attention to what we say?’ Tony lifted his eyebrows and shrugged,
‘If you tell me something even slightly interesting, I might.’
Bruce snorted. He turned to Tony ‘We haven’t finished our conversation from
this afternoon.’ Tony was eyeing a cute blond girl in a rather skimpy dress a
few feet away. ‘Which conversation?’ ‘About behaving at school, Tony.’ Tony’s
head snapped back. ‘What? Really dude, we’re trying to have a good time here.
Don’t be like Captain Buzzkill.’ ‘You know how much Steve hates that nickname,
stop calling him that. However,’ Quickly cutting Tony off mid protest, ‘I meant
what I said.’ He eyed at his friend. ‘Don’t mess this up Tony. It’s your last
year. I’d hate to see you get kicked out before the exams.’ They just stared at
each other bleakly before Tony yelled ‘Don’t be so fucking grim man! I’ll be
fine. Fuck, my dad donates so much money to the school they wouldn’t dare kick
me out.’
‘Tony, I’m serious here.’ Tony sighed. ‘Alright, alright. Alright! I’ll
behave.’ He looked back to the other end of the bar, gave Bruce a few pats on
his shoulder. ‘But not tonight.’ He smirked as he headed for the blonde he was
looking at, leaving Bruce alone at his spot once again. ‘Why does he always do
that?’
===============================================================================

Tony woke up, head throbbing painfully. He was lying naked in bed. His own bed
thank god, but he was failing at recollecting how he got there in the first
place. He grumbled as he rose up, quickly looking beside him. No woman lying
next to him. Good. He scanned his room, also no female clothes on the floor or
such. Also good. That meant there wasn’t a girl right now taking a shower and
expecting breakfast and small talk in a couple of minutes. Tony rarely took
girls home, but he might have done so once or twice in the heat of the moment.
Nothing is more awkward than not remembering the name of the girl who’s  lying
in your bed. He located his phone and texted in the group chat on Whatsapp;

Tony:  How the fuck did I get home last night?

Clint:  Good afternoon sunshine! Sleep well?

Tony:  Shut up dick cheese.

Clint:  Tssst such language!
          No rlly, you took a cab home

Tony:  When?

Clint:  After you sucked the face of that slutty broad

Bruce:  Good afternoon
           And yes, you were rather engaged most of the night and afterwards
took a cab home.

Tony:  Lol. Good times.
          But seriously guys, I don’t even remember what she looked like
          Honestly, I only remember she was blond
          I think…
          Was she hot?

Steve:  Another one of those nights, gentlemen?
Tony:  Hiya Steve, apparently so. How was your exciting dinner with your
mothers book club?
Steve:  …
Bruce:  Not really my type Tony. Definitely yours though
           Hi Steve
Clint:  Hey Steve?

Steve:  Yes Clint?

Clint:  Say hi to your mom for me

Steve:  Please explain to me why we are friends?

Tony:  Because you’re a good Samaritan.


Tony rubbed his eyes. Jesus Christ he was hung over. This had to be fixed with
a greasy breakfast and an IV of caffeine. He struggled to get up and wandered
off to the shower. After getting decent, he munched on his toast as he sat
lethargically at the kitchen bar. The house was empty and cold. His father
wasn’t home. He wondered when Howard had been for the last time this week.
Tony’s head hurt. He didn’t feel up for this shit today. It was already three
in the afternoon. He’d probably spend the rest of the day hanging in front of
the TV and call it an early night. If he’d listen to his common sense that is.
He grabbed his phone from the counter and threw in another text;

Tony:  So guys. Same time tonight?
 
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