cuttingremark | Salon buddies for @favoriteanalyst

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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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.

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"Might as well start with something close to home, huh? If it gives me a taste of what I can expect..." Though whether he means out of Loki, out of Loki's taste of fashion, or Asgardian fashion, he does not specify. "Unfortunately, or fortunately depending, I'm pretty easy when it comes to clothes. Off the rack department store."

Loki knows the path well, having walked to this store many times since he moved to New York. He's walking at a leisurely pace, enjoying the day and the excellent company.

"And how do you feel about trying things on?"

"Well, obviously you gotta make sure things fit." But he's not used to tailors and getting things fit to him. "Am I going to be your runway model for today? Try something on and give a little turn on the catwalk?"

"If you're amenable. I do love a good fashion show."

They arrive at a small boutique with a wooden sign over the door hand-painted to read Genser. Loki holds the door open for Mobius to enter the warmly lit store. Racks of sweaters and other sturdy looking garments line the walls, making the small space feel open and welcoming.

A woman appears from the back. Seeing Mobius first she smiles.

"Welcome to Genser! Is there anything I can help you fi- Loki!" His name is heavily accented as she comes forward to give him a hug. They exchange a few words in the foreign tongue before Loki gestures to Mobius.

"This is my friend, Mobius. He's joining me on a trip home in a few weeks, so we're looking to get him something that can stand an Asgardian fall."

It's cute, the way Loki is recognized like an old friend, that they talk in their native tongue even if he has no idea what they're saying. He doesn't know what it's like to move to another country, to learn a new tongue to get by, and him spending a little time elsewhere with someone to translate for him on a vacation/date/not date doesn't count in the slightest. He gives a little wave when he's introduced.

"Promise I can take a little chill. I live here, don't I? And I don't fly south for the winter."

The woman, Grethen, chuckles and mentions Mobius should visit the country sometime in January, then say if he can take the chill or not.

"I have to finish up some things in the back. Yell if you need help," she says before disapearing into the office, leaving the two alone in the store room.

"Where shall we start? I think she just got some new coats in from this Finish designer--Oh, these are lovely!" Loki is somehow already next to a rack of sweaters, hands trailing over the wool, feeling the weight and texture of the fabric.

"You just want to bundle me up in all the latest fashions so I don't look like some overstuffed potato." There is nothing wrong with any of that, of course. "I'll warn you right now in case it wasn't already painfully obvious: I know nothing about designer fashion. Except some of the big names. I can always pick up a fake Gucci bag on the corner."

None of this keeps him from joining Loki in feeling up sweaters. He might not know brands, might not know anything about Asgard, and might feel out of place here, but it's hard not to notice that's quality. "Alright, maybe I'll pick a couple out to try."

"Well, if you prefer the potato look, I'm sure we can find something..." Loki grins, pulling out a heavy tan sweater and drapes it over his arm.

"It's not about the name on the label, it's the quality of the craftsmanship." He picks out another sweater, blue with intricate cables covering the front. "Even the most stalwart fashion fanatic wouldn't recognize most of these designers."

It only takes a few minutes for them to pick out a several outfits for Mobius to try on. There are sweaters, button up shirts with delicate embroidery, sturdy pants of surprisingly soft materials.

"Then I'll be an ambassador for indie brands."

It's not about the brands, is still the point, but he'll make light fun anyway. Even as he gathers up clothes in his arms, already pondering how they're supposed to make a day of this when this alone would be enough for a wintery wardrobe as it is, and slips into the dressing room.

It's not the trying on part that's weird, obviously. It's that he tries one one of the button downs, intrigued by but not wholly sure of the embroidery, but it doesn't fit too badly, maybe, hm, and is halfway unbuttoning it again when he remembers he's fashion show-ing for Loki. Okay, add on one of the sturdy pants, then. He's not nervous. It's stupid to be nervous. It's not like any of it is showy or risque or meant to make fun of him. It's normal stuff. Warm and inspired by other countries. It's fine. That's a fine thing to do on a date.

"Do I look proper Asgardian?" he asks, stepping out and. Well he doesn't do a little turn on the catwalk. Mostly stands there tugging absently at his cuffs.

After Mobius disappears behind the door, Loki takes a seat in a lovely leather chair across from the dressing rooms. Grethen comes out and they chat in quiet Asgardian until Mobius steps out.

Despite Mobius' obvious discomfort, Loki can't help but smile. It isn't often he sees someone other than himself in anything with traditional Asgardian embroidery on it. The way the shirt accentuates his shoulders doesn't hurt either.

"Put a tankard of mead in your hand, and you'd fit right in."

Loki's smile and his brand of compliment alone do wonders to make him relax. Seems like this one's a winner, and that's good enough for him. Not all of it is going to scream Asgardian, nor does he want it to. But a couple little things. To broaden his cultural horizons.

There are, of course, other places to go/get dragged to, so he doesn't necessarily want to get too much all at once. They can always come back later, or he can come back on his own to get a piece or two--but he doesn't leave empty-handed.

It's a little strange that Loki's paying. Makes sense, part of the all-expense paid trip sort of scenario, even if the clothing he gets is all liable to be worn outside of the trip. But he allows it, at the first store. Allows it at the second they stop at, too. At the third, he starts to feel a bit guilty, puts away quite a nice pair of shoes because good god there is no reason for shoes to be that expensive, even dress shoes. Loki ends up buying them anyway for him.

At the fourth store, it's all starting to feel a little unnecessary, and he starts to pull his wallet out, over Loki's protestations. At least let him cut Loki a check when this is all said and done. To cover at least some of it. They can work out the details later. It's...just too much to be simply a gift.

He also insists on carrying the bags. They're his clothes; he'll do the carrying. Loki can tend to them while he's trying things on and that's it.

"If," he starts delicately, on the way to whatever is next (a bespoke suit?), "I was interested in you paying for everything I want, in a..." Sexual way? Hrng maybe not going to say that out loud. "In that way. Is that something you'd actually enjoy?"

When Mobius starts to talk about checks and payment, Loki knows he's done it again. It's something Sylvie had warned him about when they first became friends. He had showered her with gifts until she threatened to stab him if he bought her one more fucking thing. After she'd calmed down she explained why it made her uncomfortable and they agreed he was only allowed to do it on holidays and her birthday. (Of course he stretched holidays out to mean any federally recognized holiday, but over the last few years it had become more of a gag than anything.)

The last stop is indeed the suit store. He knows Mobius said he has one, but while their out, it couldn't hurt? Or maybe it could. Maybe he's fucking this up right at the beginning. Classic Loki.

He's grateful that Mobius brought this up here, at the car, rather than out on the street. Mobius didn't get a lot of stuff (by Loki's standards, at least), but they were passing the garage on the way to the suit store, so stopping to drop of the bags only made sense. He closes the trunk and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to think of an appropriate response.

"I haven't...It isn't a type of relationship I would naturally seek out." Loki tries to follow the way Mobius carefully skated around mentioning any sort of intimate interaction. "I have the means, and I enjoy giving gifts to my friends, so if my partner was so inclined, I wouldn't...it wouldn't be a turn off. If that is something you would want, I would be willing to give it a try."

"No." But then, that sounds a little quick and harsh in his own ear, and he takes a breath. "I mean...is that all this is? Giving gifts? The clothes and this day out and then the...whole trip. That's a lot more than just a gift, Loki. I'm not a charity case. You don't see me like that, do you?"

"No!" Like Mobius, the word comes out of his mouth a bit too fast, a bit too much behind it. "I don't, I promise, I just...got a little caught up in the moment." His hands start to fidget, one going to pick at the palm of the other. He thinks of all the bags in his trunk and suddenly flushes with shame.

"Do you...should we take some of it back? Or maybe you can pay for dinner?" Or maybe he just wants to go home. Loki would be disappointed, but he would understand.

It seems more than just a little caught up, but then, Mobius has never grown up with and lived with that kind of money to slap down on a whim. Maybe this is normal for Loki. Maybe he's making too big a deal of it? "No...no, not if you mean it genuinely. It just seems like...a lot. I guess I don't really know what you want in return."

"I don't want anything." Loki knows it's hard to believe, past experiences had taught him much the same thing-- everyone wants something. Does he want Mobius to stay around? Yes, of course. Was he maybe spending money to facilitate that? Possibly. Would he hold it against the man if he left anyways? Absolutely not.

"If you were to leave now and say you never wanted to see me again...well, I'd be sad," an understatement, "but I wouldn't think any of this a waste. Time or money. Nor would I demand any sort of repayment for either."

"No, I don't want to leave." His brows furrow. "And of course I want to see you again. I just...have to get used to this being normal, for you. It's a little strange." More than a little. But if there's no harm meant, and it isn't a weird kink, and he doesn't expect anything in return, then...okay. Weird. But okay?

"I'm still going to write you a check. For something. I feel like I can't just accept all of this without a little compensation."

It's weird how Mobius saying he doesn't want to leave makes his mood lighten almost instantly.

"If it would make you feel better, cut me a check for however much you want." He doesn't know what he'll do with the money. Maybe donate it? "Do you...still want to go to the suit store? Or we can skip it and have an early dinner."

"We can still do the suit. We're this far already, might as well get something I know 100% I'm going to use when we go on the trip." It does...feel better to have spoken even briefly about it. It's still an odd feeling to wrestle with, but being sure that it's Loki being loose with his money and not a Weird Sex Thing is better.

"I got a feeling you really want to see me fitted, and you're definitely paying for the privilege."

Loki chuckles, turning to check the lock on his trunk to hide the bit of color that comes to his cheeks.

"Well let's head off then. We have an appointment in 30 minutes and the walk will take about 15." He offers Mobius his arm. If they're going to do this, might as well do this right.

One of the things he likes about Loki is that he seems so genuine. He seems to mean everything he does and says. Knows himself and is true to it through and through, even if the results are not always particularly popular. He offers his arm to an older lower class gentleman like it's the most natural thing in the world, and Mobius believes that it is for him.

It's damnably endearing, and he threads his arms in Loki's.

'Genuine' is not a word Loki has ever heard describe him, but then again it's easier to call someone a liar than admit they're speaking a truth you don't want to hear.

That and he's really good at lying.

Still, the offer is sincere, as is Loki's smile and the conversation they make on their way to a small fitting store several blocks away. It may have been faster to drive, but Loki isn't confident in finding parking this time of day and he finds he doesn't want to end the day any faster than necessary.

The front of the suit store is small, having only a few tailors who do the fittings and alterations of partially finished pre-made suits sent to them by a host of designers. The tailor who meets them discusses the specifics they're looking for- fit, occation, color, material. Loki lets Mobius take the lead, seeing as it is his suit, but jumps in if the older man looks to him for an opinion. He makes sure to let the tailor know that the even is a black-tie political affair, but that the suit should be something Mobius could reuse for less formal occasions, so nothing as stuffy as a full tux with tails.

The tailor gets him in a shell and brings Mobius out in front of the mirror to do the proper fitting. Even with the suit turned inside out and pinned, he can already see how the shape accentuates Mobius's strong shoulders and thighs and has to try very hard to not stare.

"Which side do you dress to?" The tailor asks as he begins working on the pants. Loki suddenly becomes very interested in the book of lining fabrics he had been idly flipping through.

It's all a little overwhelming, not gonna lie!

The basics, that's fine. He knows colors he likes, ideas for type of fit to look for. He hasn't really bothered with material, used to off the rack types and not...the kind of prices that he'd caught glimpses of on entering the store. Jesus. He guesses a bespoke suit is going to be worth a pretty penny, but hitting four digits seems unnecessary.

Still. A sleek dark blue, single button. It's the fit that makes it bespoke, and standing around with a scrappy inside-out outfit with pins everywhere is...really weird. The tailor asks the question, and Mobius blinks, taking a few moments to really parse the question. Oh. It's...look, it's a fair question, he supposes, just not one he gets asked. He does not look at Loki. This is normal. This is a normal question and not invasive and no one needs to think about dicks any more than they have to. He indicates a side and mildly clears his throat and they can all move on.

He wants to make a joke about not getting pins where they shouldn't go, but that might be insulting to a professional?

"It's hard to picture the finished product," he says instead, more to Loki or really just...out loud. He feels like a ragged pincushion.

Loki quietly files the information away for later, more private use.

"Have you ever had a fitted suit before?" Obviously he knows the kind of work this establishment does, but even if this were his first time here he's had enough suits fitted to see the shapes the tailor is getting as he pins.

"Really curious what kind of swanky black-tie parties you think I've gone to before."

So, no, to answer the question. He can see where they're getting at, sure, but it's a long way from a finished product.

"I just go in the store and pick up my size off the rack. Give it a try on to make sure it looks good and fits okay."

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