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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You're very..." He doesn't know what to say. "I mean, sure, maybe he'll stop inviting you, but you should definitely get invitations elsewhere. A fashion runway, maybe. Silly me expecting you in a suit. Must be too much like your job."

"They loose a bit of their luster when you have to wear one every day, yes." Loki takes a step towards Mobius, their proximity making the two extra inches Loki has because of the heels even more apparent.

"Hope you don't mind a tall partner."

"Then I hope 'amazing' isn't just you trying to spare my feelings being in a suit and all. I think I look kind of dashing, but I just have nothing on you." Loki being even taller isn't offputting. Amusing, actually. But it makes his legs look even better.

"I guess I just wasn't expecting something so...feminine?" Hm, the word comes out questioning. "Gender bending. Blending. Like you shoved genders in a blender until you chugged whatever came out."

"And you're okay with me...chugging a gender smoothie?" He sounds utterly confident, but there have been people in the past who didn't want anything to so with Loki after he started showing how loose he got with gender expression.

"Loki, I'm okay with whatever you want to wear and however you want to express yourself. Just let me know if, uh, you're not my boyfriend and are something else instead, okay?"

Is it a surprise, sure. They can talk about it more later. But it's Loki, so whatever it is is perfect.

"I'll let you know if there are any changes on that front." If Loki hadn't already fallen head over heels for Mobius, he would have gone tumbling then and there. He gives Mobius a dazzling smile as he offers him his arm.

"Our car should be out front. Are you ready?"

"I'll do my damnedest not to nervous-puke on your fancy shoes." Which is his way of saying he's as ready as he'll ever be. He takes Loki's arm, and then takes a deep breath. "And I'll try to be out of the way and relegate myself to the nibbles."

Loki pats his arm as they leave the room. "You'll be just fine. And don't feel like you have to stay 'out of the way.' You're here as my guest, you've every right to be there."

"I'm just saying, I'm not going to get into any conversations about Asgardian politics."

They're not the only ones in this hotel going, given some of the other people of fancier wear or some of the other vehicles waiting out front. But Mobius only has eyes for Loki. Mostly because he's pretty sure if he thinks anyone is perceiving him, he might wither on the spot and sink through the floor.

The ride over is uneventful and blessedly short. It's no red carpet Hollywood premier event, but he can see some of the what he presumes to be more local or even national news crews about. There's Loki-and-guest on the list, a quick coat check, and--well. If Loki wanted to be the best dressed and also turn heads, he certainly does that between others in suits as fine or so as Mobius' and dresses that are pretty with a certain refined edge but nothing to outlandish, nothing ostentatious. Loki stands out.

Also standing out: Odin. Mobius could very well have dug into Loki's life, into the political sphere, simply learned more about the family and what they're about. He's hardly afraid of technology, nor is he simply not curious, but he still would prefer to learn these things organically. But Odin is immediately a regal and imposing figure, somehow both at the center of attention and apart from it. That can only mean the lovely woman by his side is Frigga, making polite and beaming smalltalk as guests filter by. When she spots them, or rather spots her hard to miss son, her smile doesn't falter, a warmth seeming to radiate from it.

When Odin is made aware of Loki's presence, he's a hard one to read, and it isn't just because of the grand beard about his face or one eye covered in an elaborately embroidered patch. But he still manages to radiate something that feels distinctly like disdain without putting in any visible effort.

"I promise I won't drink everything in an hour. You might need the champagne more than I do."

Loki makes small talk with a few people they pass, making sure to always speak in English for Mobius' benefit. Everyone here speaks it anyways, there's no reason to leave him out of the loop. A few people ask what he's doing now, if he's moving back, who his designer is; standard questions for these things. Some of the old guard, Odin's inner circle mostly, side-eye him from the outskirts but don't say anything.

When Loki catches Frigga's eye he smiles and starts walking in that direction, completely ignoring the glare Odin is giving him.

"Oh, I don't think there's enough champaign in the world to get me drunk enough to deal with him," he murmurs to Mobius before they get in earshot of his parents.

Frigga, well use to her son's sense of expression, doesn't bat an eye at his outfit. Her smile stays wide as she hugs him tight and starts talking rapidly in Asgardian.

"I missed you too, Mother," he replies in English. "This is Mobius my... boyfriend." Mobius had used that word in the hotel, Loki can use it here!

Frigga grins, switching to English herself as well. "It is lovely to meet you, Mobius. I am Frigga Bordoitter. I hope you've had a good stay in our country thus far."

Yes, he said boyfriend earlier, but they were also just the two of them alone. To meet the parents and also have Loki describe him as boyfriend? His chest feels like it's going to swell to burst.

He does a polite bow. "The pleasure is all mine, ma'am. Your son has been taking good care of me, and I've been at worst merely charmed by what I've seen."

She laughs warmly. "Well, one can only hope to do more than charm you tonight, although some of the details may bore you."

"Nonsense. I'll be by Loki's side; that won't be boring at all." He glances briefly Odin's way. "Seems the man of the hour is busy with his donors and guests." Therefore there is no need to be introduced right this very second. Clearly.

Frigga gives him a knowing smile. "I'll bring him to the two of you for introductions after he makes his speech. Speaking of, I need to make sure he's ready." Probably a good idea, just in case Loki pisses him off. She gives Loki a quick kiss on both cheeks before going back to her husband's side.

"So it won't be boring if you're by my side?" Loki asks after she leaves, a playful smirk on his face.

"No way in hell could being with you be boring. Even if having a lot of eyes this way is intimidating. You're not boring. C'mon, let's grab a drink or something or just...generally be out of the way before the fireworks start."

Loki procures two flutes of champaign from a passing waiter for Mobius and himself before leading Mobius to the edge of the room where they can stand against a wall while others mill about the room. A few more people greet Loki, though none get the chance to stop and chat as not long after they park, Odin takes the mic and begins delivering his speech.

It's a truly dull monologue full of political double speak, posturing, and empty promises. Loki translates for Mobius quietly in his ear, though he does add in his own bits here and there.

"...and he promises to bring back the oft missed role of 'town mime', which as we all know, is a very important elected official who dresses as a mime and does their best work their way out of an invisible box in the middle of old town square."

The translation is nice, even if local and Asgardian politics are beyond him in the immediate sense, but Loki's added flavoring makes it so much better. He's already through one glass and spends a lot of the latter half with a hand expertly placed where his bursts of stifled giggles won't be seen, nor his silly grinning.

"I told you I couldn't be bored by your side," he says quietly in return. He's genuinely learning quite a bit, but, yes, politics is politics no matter what side of the planet you're on, and it feels like some election campaign nonsense he mostly ignores anyway.

But the rousing drone finally comes to a conclusion to clapping and music, and Mobius politely joins in. And grabs himself and Loki another drink when someone comes by, absolutely. "I can see why he has such ardent followers," he says with completely faux seriousness. "I have to wonder what the competition's like."

"Well, they certainly aren't backing the mime agenda, I can tell you that." Loki stopped tracking his father's political career a long time ago. He still reads a few Asgardian publications online, but Odin had been in power for so long and with such strong results it was unlikely someone could unseat him now. While they don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, Loki can't deny that Odin is rather good at what he does.

Loki takes a sip of his champaign and scans the room, catching his mother's eye. He groans. "Mother's giving me the 'get over here now' look. Are you ready to meet the man himself?"

"Absolutely not; let's do it."

Honestly, he's flown thousands of miles with a man he's only known on and off for not even a year yet and been on a few little dates with to a foreign country to a political gala rally thing that nobody wants to be at in the first place and decided this fella is now his boyfriend to try and go steady with.

How much more frightening could the old man/myth/legend be?

"I'll let you do the talking; I'll do the polite smiling."

"Well, maybe not too polite."

Loki takes his arm and gently leads him through the crowd. After a life of experience, he knows the exact posture to take to get everyone else to move out of his way rather than dodging between and bumping shoulders. In less time than he would have liked, Loki and Mobius are standing face to face with Odin. He's shorter than Loki, even more so with the heels, but the sheer presence he gives off makes him seem towering.

Like Frigga, Odin begins speaking to Loki in Asgardian. Unlike Frigga, Loki cuts him off mid-sentence.

"Our guest speaks English, Odin. Don't be rude." If Loki's words bother Odin, he doesn't show it. At least he doesn't look any more grim than when they first approached.

"Yes, your mother told me about your guest. Is this actually your paramour, or another rented companion?"

Don't get mad, he's just trying to get a rise out of you, don't let him.

"What? Don't believe anyone could like me without some sort of monetary compensation?"

"That's not what I mea-"

"Not. Here." Frigga says, eyeing the two men dangerously.

Loki clears his throat. "This is my boyfriend, Mobius. Mobius, this is Odin Borson."

Odin extends a hand. "His father," he says as if Loki didn't leave that part off on purpose.

Off to a great start! Wonderful, fantastic, Frigga's been putting up with/shutting down this shit for years, though, so apparently she's the peacekeeper. Mobius' smile remains polite, if fake about it, as he shakes Odin's hand. "My going rates are for hair only."

So, not the best first impression, no.

"Lovely speech you gave, sir."

Odin, trying not to let the snarky response stun him too much, gives a grunt in reply. "More manners than the last guest my son brought."

"I'm sure it's just culture shock. It's my first time outside the States, but I don't seem to have made too big a fool of myself."

Loki tries very hard to snicker at Mobius' sass and is only marginally successful. Luckily the drone of conversation filling the room makes it easy to turn into a convincing enough cough.

"Mobius is one of the best hairdressers in New York." It isn't a lie. Loki wouldn't let just anyone work with his hair.

"A respectable profession," Odin says. "I take you met though your work then?"

He shoots Loki a little look over his shoulder. But will not argue about how that is definitely a lie. "My work, yes. Happy coincidence of his usual not being available and recommending my place, and it's just gone from there. Loki is an absolute delight to be around."

"Is he."

Ignoring the tone: "And when he invited me to come along, I figured he must have gotten it from someone. I'm a little nervous to meet the family, and it's a shame Thor isn't here, but I'm still delighted to be here."

Mobius may have been nervous, but he's handling the situation like a professional. Loki is about as delighted as he can be when in a conversation with Odin.

"He use to be an actual delight to be around," Odin mutters. "It's a shame he can only find companions amongst those he pays for services." If Loki didn't know better he would think he wasn't meant to hear it. But he does know better, and he knows Odin can pitch his voice so only those he intends hear what he says. Unconsciously, Loki's grip on Mobius' arm tightens slightly. It shouldn't hurt after all these years, but it does.

So much for letting Loki do the talking and Mobius just smiling politely. When one works with occasionally stupid, occasionally irate customers, one learns to put on a certain face. For the sake of not getting fired and all. It's the kind of face he makes now, even if it strains for the way he feels Loki tighten up.

Any digs on Mobius are easy to handle. Digs on Loki are less so. "Not an easy job, what he does. Hard to find the time to socialize. But thankfully he has. While being, in fact, an actual delight."

Odin tilts his head back as though to look down his nose, one eye pinning Mobius down with a look that strikes him as intimidating and familiar. But the scrutiny doesn't cow him. "You don't have to defend him." And that is certainly loud enough for Loki to hear, since Mobius has decided to bring it around. "He can fight his own battles."

"He's also standing right here, if you've got something to say to his face."

"Gentlemen," says Frigga simply. To quell a fight with a word, or such is the intent.

They should back off. Something has pissed Odin off, and he's taking it out on Loki (as usual.) If he were a bigger man, he would take Mobius and walk away, possibly leaving the gala altogether. But he isn't, and seeing Mobius rise to his defense in a way no one else ever had is intoxicating.

"Yes, you've never had a problem listing all my faults to my face before," Loki drawls, "why the sudden hesitation?"

"You know very well why." Odin says, ignoring the way Frigga jabs his ribs. There gets to be a point when Odin and Loki are so worked up that even she can't stop their arguments and Loki knows they are very near that point now. "You twist my words to suit your own sense of victimhood."

"You literally just said I can't make friends unless I pay them."

"You cannot deny you have a history of renting your companionship. You had so much promise as a boy, now look at you: strutting around like a vain peacock with finery bought using your ill-gotten gains. You disgrace the Odinson name!"

He steps in front of Loki, mask of politeness thoroughly dropped. "I believe you owe your son an apology. In fact, I think you owe him several."

"Don't," starts Odin with a point of a finger that manages to look genuinely menacing, "get involved in family politics that you cannot hope to understand. If anything, you might be owed an apology. For the way he's going to leave you behind for the next common whore to embarrass the family with, if he doesn't become one himself."

When he's inevitably asked about it later, Mobius will not really remember the thought or even the impulse, will claim he simply had no control when the contents of his glass flew into Odin's face, his beard, dripping down the front of his suit. He'll remember seeing it as though a spectator rather than the perpetrator.

The murmur of the crowd dies to nothing, and Odin is left sputtering, Frigga with a hand to her chest. "How dare--"

"How dare you," Mobius cuts in with a vicious edge. "How dare you say that about your son as though he's done anything but try to live his life, just away from you. You're the disgrace." If he's aware of the angry looking security coming, he doesn't show it. "You're a hateful, spiteful son of a bitch--"

Edited 2022-02-13 22:00 (UTC)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject