cuttingremark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cuttingremark) wrote2021-12-21 11:17 am
cuttingremark) wrote2021-12-21 11:17 am
Salon buddies for @favoriteanalyst
It started about a few months ago. Loki needed to relax after making the mistake of spending his winter holidays with his 'family' (which ended in another spectacular fight with Odin that resulted in one broken window and a lost snow globe Loki has thrown through said broken window), but his normal esthetician was booked solid for the next year and couldn't fit him in outside of his own pre-scheduled appointments no matter how much money he offered to throw at her. Wanda was the best in the city, probably the whole country, so it made sense, but there's still the issue of Loki needing something to relieve his tension so he didn't strangle his paralegals. The thought crossed his mind of setting up a tindr profile for a quick fuck, but he isn't in law school anymore and that was just a disaster waiting to happen.
Wanda saves him from making a bad decision by texting him the information for another technician she helped train. She claims he's new, but very talented, which he figures will do in a pinch. The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full salon under new management. Despite the clunky UI, he's able to schedule an appointment for a basic manicure the very next day with the young man Wanda had told him about.
Casey is a nice young man. Not anywhere as skilled as Wanda, but his nails come out looking acceptable with their basic black polish and the hand massage he gets to begin with is utterly divine. He doesn't go into detail about his family problems, but the other gets the gist that the holidays were strained and is more than willing to play the oh-so-important role of listening ear even if his platitudes do ring a little hollow.
When the appointment is over, Casey hands him a card for a free deep conditioning treatment or 30 minute shoulder massage.
"These are really just for family and friends," he explains, "but you really seem like you need something to help you relax." He thinks about declining, but decides it isn't polite and takes the card anyway before handing the young man a $400 tip.
The stern looking woman at the front desk gives him a serious look as Casey nearly passes out in the background. "I'm going to be checking those to make sure they're real."
"But of course, I would expect nothing less." His usual winning smile does nothing to lighten her glare as she rings him out. She asks if he wants to use the card to schedule something today. Why not? It's a charming establishment and he has some free time coming up.
The masseuse the card is good for, Bee, is apparently booked solid for the next month, but the stylist, Mobius, just had a cancellation in the following week that fit perfectly in his schedule.
That appointment was the beginning of the end for Loki.
So in he walks six months later, having ditched his normal high-end stylist for a middle-aged man who looks like he works in a cubicle rather than a up-and-coming salon. It isn't his normally scheduled appointment, but his cases have been crazy and Thor just left for his "journey of self-discovery" aka backpacking across Europe, so all of Odin's attention is now on his youngest.
Joy.
If Loki were the sentimental type, he'd think it a shame that the lobby area of a salon is more comfortable for him than his childhood home.
Wanda saves him from making a bad decision by texting him the information for another technician she helped train. She claims he's new, but very talented, which he figures will do in a pinch. The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full salon under new management. Despite the clunky UI, he's able to schedule an appointment for a basic manicure the very next day with the young man Wanda had told him about.
Casey is a nice young man. Not anywhere as skilled as Wanda, but his nails come out looking acceptable with their basic black polish and the hand massage he gets to begin with is utterly divine. He doesn't go into detail about his family problems, but the other gets the gist that the holidays were strained and is more than willing to play the oh-so-important role of listening ear even if his platitudes do ring a little hollow.
When the appointment is over, Casey hands him a card for a free deep conditioning treatment or 30 minute shoulder massage.
"These are really just for family and friends," he explains, "but you really seem like you need something to help you relax." He thinks about declining, but decides it isn't polite and takes the card anyway before handing the young man a $400 tip.
The stern looking woman at the front desk gives him a serious look as Casey nearly passes out in the background. "I'm going to be checking those to make sure they're real."
"But of course, I would expect nothing less." His usual winning smile does nothing to lighten her glare as she rings him out. She asks if he wants to use the card to schedule something today. Why not? It's a charming establishment and he has some free time coming up.
The masseuse the card is good for, Bee, is apparently booked solid for the next month, but the stylist, Mobius, just had a cancellation in the following week that fit perfectly in his schedule.
That appointment was the beginning of the end for Loki.
So in he walks six months later, having ditched his normal high-end stylist for a middle-aged man who looks like he works in a cubicle rather than a up-and-coming salon. It isn't his normally scheduled appointment, but his cases have been crazy and Thor just left for his "journey of self-discovery" aka backpacking across Europe, so all of Odin's attention is now on his youngest.
Joy.
If Loki were the sentimental type, he'd think it a shame that the lobby area of a salon is more comfortable for him than his childhood home.
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No no, not necessary. Loki's here for a reason, knows exactly who he wants to see, and he will wait if he has to. He hasn't been in the business this long to start gaining a reputation of placing any clients over others, and he's not going to start now. A simple enough cut and style anyway; if it were more complicated, he could find the time to flit between the two.
Used to be this wasn't so busy, used to be much simpler. But when being a simple barber wasn't enough, money-wise, he didn't see any harm in going back to school to learn to treat all kinds of hair all kinds of ways. It opened up more opportunities for him, and here he is. So long as his hands are still steady, he'll keep at it, too. The clientele get a little pricklier and pickier as the price point goes up, but it keeps him on his toes.
Loki, on the surface, is not unusual, would not normally stand out. He's chatty and is the type that likes his hair played with, probably a reason he likes it longer. Lawyer, smart, too smart for his own good really, good at what he does apparently to be able to leave tips like that. Troubled family life, though usually at an abroad kind of distance. Wants to be a self-made man. Mobius can appreciate that.
Doesn't hurt that he's handsome and energetic and animated (sometimes prompting Mobius to tell him to stop moving if he wants to keep his ears where they are, thanks). But that also isn't unusual.
And yet there's something unusual about him.
He accepts his latest tip, sends his client on his merry way, cleans up, checks his schedule. And finally comes out front. "Hiya, Loki." He tries not to sound too surprised. "You here for the whole shebang, nails and all, or do you just need your hair touched up?"
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"Just a shampoo and trim, if you don't mind," he says as he stands up and moves over to follow Mobius back to his chair. He'd recently seen Mobius for a trim, so his hair didn't strictly need it, but it felt silly to just ask for a wash.
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"Luckily for you, I don't. Think I've always got time for you. Let's get you back for a wash. Just remember that oily hair needs a little extra care, but too much washing strips you of the necessary natural oils that keep everything healthy. A balancing act."
Loki doesn't need told. But he says it anyway. He's pretty sure the guy really just likes having fingers through his hair, and it's also not his place to suggest elsewhere he can get that. A salon's a pretty safe option. The client is fit with the usual flowing bib and led to the sink, lowered back in gently. Start some water, grab some product to lather up...
"So, special occasion? Need to look particularly nice to woo a judge?"
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There's only so much a salon can do to make the washing sink comfortable. Loki hasn't found a one that doesn't hurt his neck hurt, but that is soon forgotten when Mobius starts the warm water. He doesn't know what this man does that makes it so much better than any other stylist, but the second he starts to run his fingers through Loki's dark hair the lawyer feels all the tension melt out of his body.
"No, with Thor on his little vacation, Odin's been harrassing me to make an appearance at some fundraiser or another. I don't know, I've been deleting his voicemails."
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"Sounds to me like he should know better. How important is it for one of his sons to make an appearance? You've got better things to be doing."
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"Unfortunately, he knows this time of year is slow for the firm so it's hard to make excuses."
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"The best excuse is probably no excuse at all. If you're deleting the messages, that ought to send a clear message in return. 'No' is pretty powerful, too." He hums, though, considering it. "I'm guessing it's not that simple, though."
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"It never is. He's recruited Mother into all this, she texted me this morning." It's obvious to anyone who's ever heard him talk about the woman that Loki has a soft spot for his mother.
"She's insisting it would be a good opportunity to talk after the fiasco that happened last Yule." Loki doesn't sound like he agrees with her.
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Mobius starts in with the rinsing. "Do I want to ask what happened last Yule?" And who calls it Yule? That's cute. Very European. He's never been. "Something dramatic, if it's a fiasco."
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Let's talk about 🍆sex🍑 baby
Far too long, as far as Loki is concerned.
Loki invites Mobius over to his condo Saturday evening. He'd wanted to invite him over Friday evening, but switched to Saturday after mentioning his plan to Sylvie.
"What, so he can come in and find you passed out on the table?"
She was right, of course. Loki feels much better now after a long night's rest and a lazy day in. Despite this, and the fact that they'd spent a week together already, there's an excited tension in his stomach. Tonight is the night they actually talk about sex. Kinks, to be more specific.
For the first time in years, he's nervous to have this discussion. Normally it's a partner he's met specifically for these purposes. They lay out what they are and aren't okay with, and if there are too many differences they simply go their separate ways. No hard feelings, no attachments, just an arrangement.
But this is more. More than he's had in years. What if Mobius thinks he's weird? What if the man decides he wants nothing to do with him after they talk? Loki glances down at his list and the (abbreviated) checklist he'd printed out for Mobius. It's a formality born of years of quick hook ups. Easier to have everything on paper than try to remember it all on the spot. Shit, is this too formal? Is it weirder to have a submission kink, or to have the details of said kink written out in neatly columned lists to hand to a partner? Maybe he should just throw the whole thing in the tra-
There's a knock on his door before he can even finish the thought. If course, he'd given the doorman Mobius's information and a photo so he could just let him up without ringing Loki. Papers left on the table next to his plate (empty, Mobius said he would bring the food), Loki crosses the room in a few long strides to open the front door.
Shove the nerves down. Shoulders back. Smile on.
"I hope the trip over treated you well."
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And yes, the first day back was incredibly awkward, when everyone stared at him or pretended very hard not to stare at him, and he discovered a paper decidedly not at all in English with a photo of the incident emblazoned on it.
So. That's on the list of things he'll never live down.
The texts are sweet, though. They don't last terribly long for how exhausted Loki gets, working hard, working long, having only had a little bit of time between dealing with the gala and dealing with work to actually relax. Maybe, just maybe, having a brand new loving boyfriend helps.
Honestly, he's a little surprised at being invited over the weekend. But eager. Loki's been running himself ragged; he needs to relax. With good food, with good company. Mobius might just give him a massage before the inevitable sex.
Loki's place is fancy. Of course. Of course it is, with a whole doorman and everything. Snazzy. (He offers the guy a bread roll as thanks.)
Mobius hefts up a bag of goodies when he's let in by Loki, all smiles. "Yeah, not too bad, can't complain. Especially not to see you. I sprung a little on the fancy side with steaks, is that good?" He makes his way in, kicks off his shoes, and tries not to feel entirely out of place. "They're not like five star, but I've never had complaints about this place, so it's got my seal of approval."
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"The dining room is just here, I've got the plates all set out." It's a short enough walk, the main area of the condo being fairly open concept. From the entrance area they cross through the comfortable looking living room to the dining room, the only separation between the two being a half-wall. Once in the dining room the kitchen is also visible.
As soon as Mobius sets the bag down, Loki pulls him close for a proper kiss.
"I missed you."
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--right up until he's pulled in and properly kissed. God, it feels good. It feels right. He hopes it lasts, this whole relationship thing.
"Mm, haven't been gone all that long," he says with a light chuckle. "But if you really missed me that bad, we can skip dinner for the moment..."
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"You get everything dished out while I grab some wine. Are you okay with red?"
The kitchen is right next to the dining room, so Mobius can clearly see Loki disappear into the cupboard. The wine is stored in the back in a special cabinet built just for this. It takes him a moment as he debates between two different bottles, before he reappears with the older of the two in hand.
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No big deal to take out some of the containers and start dishing. Steak and some veg and some rice and bread rolls of course and.
That's not a hilariously large napkin. What is that. If it's important, if it's work-related, he doesn't want to splatter it with anything or accidentally read something he's not supposed to. But even a cursory glance shows him it's definitely some kind of fillable checklist of some kind.
"Did you leave some work on the table?"
That is not work related. But. He'll give Loki an out if he wants it?
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"No, that's for...after dinner. If you're still...amenable." His hair is pulled back into a braid, allowing Mobius to see the touch of pink coloring the tips of his ears.
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"Well...okay. The after dinner plans I was thinking about may have involved a hot soak in the tub with my hands all over you and then getting dirty all over again in bed, but paperwork is fine, too?"
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no subject
It isn't that he can't see any reason for it. Thor's closer to Odin than Loki is, so that public humiliation probably isn't great. The hulking lumberjack of a man had given a laugh about it, and Thor strikes him as the type to wear his heart proudly on his sleeve, but there's still something that lends to distrust.
Mobius feels like he gets along with the worldly older brother just fine. There's nothing about him offensive, just that he's boisterous and outgoing and sporty. And Thor doesn't say anything negative to Mobius. Very polite. Hasn't even gotten a shovel talk, though he imagines it's heavily implied. When they're alone in a room together, however, he can feel something cold. Suspicious? Loki's by and far old enough to be making his own decisions about sexual and romantic partners without judgement. Mobius is certainly older, yeah, but it isn't like there's a power imbalance.
It comes to a head one time when Thor is visiting. Mobius has stepped out of the room, to the kitchen to fix them up some drinks. Thor's his usual polite-but-suspect around Mobius, which is unfortunate, but Mobius is past the point of being upset about something that might just simply be a clash of personality that can't be fixed. He rummages in the fridge for some light snacks when the raised voices of an argument filter in, grabbing his attention.
no subject
"What is your problem with him?" Loki asks in quiet Asgardian.
"I don't know, there's something off about that one. Are you certain of this relationship, brother?"
"What do you mean? There's nothing 'off' about him! He's a wonderful, caring person and if you'd stop being an idiot for five minutes, you'd see that!"
Thor's scowl deepens. "You've said that about others before."
Loki scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Seriously? Is that what this is about? He's an older gentleman, so he must be bad."
"You have to admit, there is a pattern here. I'm just worried about you!"
"This is completely different! And that was ten years ago!" Loki doesn't even realize his voice is raised. But then again, neither does Thor.
"You can't be certain of that!"
"Norns above," Loki says in English. "He isn't En, Thor!"
Neither brother knows when they stood, or when they got into each other's face. Loki sees Thor's vision flick over Loki's shoulder and only then does he realize how loud they must have been.
"Thor-" but his older brother doesn't give him time to say more as he stomps to the door and out of the apartment.
Loki sighs, shoulders sagging as he turns around to the one who broke Thor's attention.
"How much did you hear?"
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"My Asgardian's not good enough to be conversational yet." He's trying, but picking up languages is no easy feat once you hit your fifties, apparently. "Enough to start getting an idea of why he hates me. Think he's coming back?"
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"It's stupid, and he'd see it's stupid if he'd take his head out of his ass long enough to actually talk to you for longer than thirty seconds!"
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"Something stronger, I think. If you wouldn't mind." He looks over and gives Mobius a little smile, but his eyes are distant.
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No big deal to pour a couple glasses of scotch. He would not like to get Loki drunk if at all possible, but if his boyfriend decides he can't go through the story without doing so, then... Well then maybe the story can't be told yet. But they'll give it a try.
He comes back, bottle on the coffee table, handing over a drink, keeping one in his own hand as he settles on one end of the couch.
Gives Loki whatever space he needs to start.
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He settles for scooting closer, angling himself so one leg is up on the couch, while the other hangs off, brushing against Mobius' shin.
Deep breaths.
"En is my ex. Met him at a gay bar...junior year of undergrad? Or summer between junior and senior. Doesn't matter. He was older than me by at least 30 years, but he was handsome and a smooth talker. We seemed to just...click. I moved in with him not long after."
Deep breaths.
"Everything seemed to be going fine. Great even. It all happened so slowly, like a frog in a pot of boiling water."
Deep breaths.
"I'd been exploring kink a little on my own before. When I told him, he said he was interested as well, suggested we get into it together." A deep breath that turns into a hollow laugh. "The first red flag was when he said we didn't need a safe word, but I didn't see it then. We were going so slow and surely if I told him I didn't like something he would stop. He never tried anything before, so I didn't have anything to worry about."
Deep bre- it catches in his throat. Loki pushes it down with the rest of the scotch.
"Fuck, sorry. I haven't talked about this in a while."
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