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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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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"I think I'll probably hear about it from you. But yeah, of course I'd read it. Presumably I'll get a free copy from you. Maybe you can make a hobby out of quietly horrifying me with your stories." Hmmm. "Or quietly arousing me." Either/or. Both?

"Hm, hopefully not to quiet." Loki gives him a playful wink.

He smirks more at his food than Loki, trying not to let the excitement get to him. "You'll just have to wait and see about that. But this probably isn't a great place to talk about that."

Unless it is because no one here speaks much English, but frankly that's a poor assumption to make.

Loki smirks at the reaction. Good to know that even after discussing some heavier topics he can still get a good reaction with flirting. Alas, time to change the subject.

"Here, try a bite," he says, pushing his plate with fried fish towards Mobius.

And so dinner goes. The food is gorgeous, and the drinks are a delight. The company is the best part. They chat, more about softer topics. It's been a strangely heavy day. They flirt, because of course they do. They split a chocolatey dessert. They do not stay until close this time, and jet lag and adjusting to the time differential is still a thing.

They take their time on the way back, hand in hand. It feels good. The chill of encroaching evening is in the air, but not too cold yet. Mobius feels free to take in some of the sights, even if they aren't going far. A city is still a city no matter where you go, but each one has its eccentricities, cultural flavors, views from just the right street corner.

Loki's still the best view, he thinks.

They hold on until they reach their hotel rooms. And hold a little more.

"Well. This is my stop." To the door just before Loki's. The nerves are creeping back in. They've talked, sure. And they're both interested. And they're both sexual beings. Why does it feel weird to dive right into this, knowing even that it's okay? Mobius laughs at himself, covering his face with his free hand. "I feel about thirty years younger in a bunch of wrong ways here." And a couple of the right ways.

Loki doesn't steer them out of the way to see anything in particular, more he decides to take the long way back to the hotel so Mobius can see more of the city. They go through the old town square, Loki points out a few buildings with interesting stories (both historical and personal), eventually ending up back at their accommodations.

It doesn't escape his notice that even though Mobius seems flustered, he doesn't move to drop his hand. Loki takes this as a good sign and gently moves the one in front of Mobius' face out of the way so he can see those beautiful blue eyes better.

"Would you join me for a night cap? Perhaps we could...have that talk you mentioned earlier."

Loki's so gentle with him in so many ways. And it never feels coddling. Mobius grins through the nerves, smile lopsided. "Maybe we can even do more than just talk. I'd love to join you, yes."

There's nothing particularly sexy about the way Mobius speaks, yet in the moment Loki doesn't think anyone's ever uttered such an arousing phrase. Ever. In the history of ever.

Okay, gotta calm down. They need to talk first, then sex. Loki wants to do this right, feelings and all, which means no slamming Mobius against the wall as soon as the door to his hotel room closes behind them. He deserves a god damn medal for his self restraint.

The bed is too tempting, so Loki leads them to the love seat, sitting down first to allow Mobius to arrange himself as he sees fit.

"I'm clean, for the record. Brought condoms if you want to be careful, though." Might as well get that bit out of the way first.

Frankly, he would not have objected to wall slamming. But it's possible they should talk about that, too. Maybe?

He gets himself comfortable. Doff the coat, toe off the shoes, relax into the loveseat Loki leads them to. Sinking into it a bit, body language open, angled toward Loki. "Clean last I checked. And there hasn't been anyone since last I checked, even if that was a bit longer ago than I might want to admit," with a laugh. "Pretty sure I remember the moves to this dance, though. Might be old, but not rusty."

Loki angles so their legs are brushed against each other. He wants to press against Mobius's side more fully, but keeping eye contact is more important right now.

"Any preferences? No goes I should know about?"

"Pitching, catching, refereeing on the sidelines," he spreads his hands, "I'm not too picky. Oral doesn't go amiss. Nothing in particular comes to mind as immediately off the table, but if you've got...ideas..."

"Nothing that requires in-depth negotiation." Yet. If Mobius is down for that kind of thing and still wants to talk to him after the trip.

Loki leans forward so he can rub a gentle hand along the Mobius' thigh.

"I suppose I prefer 'catching' in this metaphor, but I'm open to nearly anything." He leans forward even more, lips hovering just over Mobius' ear. "Perhaps we should start with something less than a full 'game.'"

He gets the impression that Loki does not normally take it slow. Why would he ever need to? But he's made the effort to pause, to talk even the most basic information, and his lean, his touch, his voice all working together to increase the heat by degrees.

Mobius turns his head to catch Loki in a kiss. To heat this up by several more degrees. He slides an arm about his waist and not too gently pulls.

"Let's start with I want to touch you, and you should sit in my lap."

Loki slides to sit on Mobius' lap before the other can even finish his sentence. His knees bent, framing the other's hips as he dives in for another kiss, matching heat for heat with a gentle moan of encouragement.

His hands start there, at Loki's waist, and drift up. Along his sides, over to his back, up his shoulders. Holds him, kisses him, tastes him. This is even better when not just fresh from a way too long flight, with a little more understanding between them.

As Mobius' hand moves up, Loki's move down, getting under the hem of his shirt again. Without the haze of jetlag, he's able to better appreciate the skin-on-skin contact, the way the other feels when he trails his nails down his back or squeezes his chest. He wants to touch every part, map it with his fingers all night. His taste is intoxicating, spices and sweet mead. Loki moans again, encouraging this time as he removes one hand from under Mobius' shirt to the back of his head to provide a stabilizing force as he deepens the kiss.

There's a desperation to Loki's moans, to the eagerness of his fingers, and that's so very arousing. Has he been thinking of this the way Mobius has? The way his partner dives in so readily and so deeply suggests an absolute yes.

He scrambles to tug up Loki's shirt tucked in, spread his fingers wide along warm skin, to feel an expanse of muscle and tendon and bone, like a delicious hint as to what he might be getting into.

Loki melts into the touch. It hasn't been an especially long time since he was intimate with someone, but he can't remember the last time it was someone he wanted this bad and waited for this long. For some reason he'd imagined Mobius' hands as rough, silly when he remembers the man's profession. Despite the warmth of the room his skin breaks out in goosebumps where ever they trail.

The growing bulge in the front of Loki's jeans no doubt catch Mobius' attention as he presses forward, trying to get impossibly closer.

Oh, his attention is caught. He's thinking about Loki under him, bed beneath them, legs tangled... They can make that happen again. They can make that happen here and now, a variation of it.

He breaks from the kiss, hands tugging the shirt more. "Off. Now." He wants to see and feel.

Loki leans back just enough to shuck his sweater off and toss it to the floor, his hands immediately moving to tug Mobius' shirt off as well.

"Turn about's fair play."

"Mm, fair 'nough." He helps by leaning in and doing a little shuffling but mostly lets Loki do the work. Why? Because he seems like he's having fun with clothing removal.

And that done, his hands set to feeling up Loki's front, entranced by his form, following the dips and curves of him, abdomen and chest and up along his collarbones. "Damn."

Loki isn't big or particularly muscular. He works out, but mostly sticks to cardio or yoga, resulting in a lean form. He is pale as hell, though.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Normally Loki would preen under the attention, but at the moment he's entirely to entranced by the man in front of him. He ducks in for another kiss before moving down to nibble at Mobius's neck.

Pale and lean he can work with. Mobius doesn't have much in the way of muscle tone, but he stays on his feet plenty and does enough little DIY projects that he's not all flab. Maybe enough for him to get self-conscious about in comparison, but he lets himself get lost in the moment of touching and feeling--and Loki. He leans his head back to expose more neck, letting out a satisfied sigh, hands finding some purchase against Loki's back once more, drifting down, over hips, daring to find his backside even if still covered.

Loki wants to leave a mark right there on his neck so bad, but the Gala is the day after tomorrow and Mobius might not be okay with something like that being visible at such an event. Instead he trails kisses and nips down to where Mobius' shoulder and neck meet and begins nipping and sucking harder to get the blood to rise.

Perhaps don't leave any marks where they'll be visible, no. Marks where they will be decidedly less visible to the public, however... Mobius chuckles a little, giving that covered ass a light smack. "You think I'm gonna run off to someone else, you want someone to know you were here first?" He didn't say stop, though.

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