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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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

Is this happening right now?

The world around him slows, sounds muffle. In the back of Loki's mind he knows he should pull Mobius back, should stop him from doing something that could land him in real trouble, but he can't move, can't do anything but look down at the man in front of him. The wonderful, brave, stupid man defending him. No one stands up to Odin, much less tosses a glass of expensive wine in his face. There's a million thoughts in his head, a thousand things he wants to do and say, but there's also the bright flash of a camera somewhere to their left.

The world snaps back into place. The first thing he sees is the security guards pushing their way through the stunned crowd.

"Mobius, we need to leave." Loki puts an arm around Mobius' shoulder and tugs him along as he makes for the exit. Heimdall, the head of Odin's security, catches up and looks for a moment like he's going to try to wrench Mobius out of Loki's grip.

"You need to leave." he says with a voice so deep it could shake mountains.

"Yes, thank you, we are doing just that," Loki says, one arm still around Mobius while his other hand types out a quick message to their driver.

He doesn't put up a fight, but he resists the tug from Loki for a moment, not terribly aware of what's around him other than Odin's increasingly red face. "I'm not done with him yet," he snaps, but it's Loki's voice that filters in as his feet stumble along with. And oh.

He blinks.

Oh.

Oh shit, he has fucked up. That's security and a man who is frankly much more broadly intimidating than Odin, and everyone is staring, and there are cameras. He's still pumped on anger and adrenaline, so he doesn't have room for sheepishness or apology just yet, only moving where Loki's long steps take him, out the door into the chill evening air. Ohhhhh shit. Does he say that out loud? His heart is hammering in his ears.

They make it outside, Heimdall close behind. Whether he is making sure Mobius doesn't go back for seconds or trying to glare off the reporters, it's hard to tell. Loki squeezes Mobius closer as they wait for the car, trying to provide what comfort he can though his skin feels like it's on fire. He needs to get Mobius back to the hotel. Damage control would have to wait till the morning, tonight is about this wonderful man in his arms currently muttering every curse under the sun.

The car pulls around and Loki opens the back door for Mobius to crawl inside. Before getting in himself he turns and smirks at Heimdall.

"Do tell mother we won't be around for dinner, hm?" He doesn't expect a response from the silent guardian, but then again he doesn't wait for one either before slipping in and closing the door.

Once the car starts to move, Loki gently take's Mobius' face in his hands.

"Are you okay?"

"He's gonna bill me for drycleaning, isn't he?"

That's it? That's the first thing out of his mouth when escorted to somewhat relative safety? His eyes are wide, and there's a little shake starting to settle into him.

"Oh, fuck, oh god I just ruined the night, shit, did that just happen? Did I just do that? He was out of line! Am I going to be arrested? Deported? What's extradition from the US like? Is it conflict of interest if you help? I am an idiot."

It might not be the best move right now, but it's the only one Loki can think of. He leans down and capture's Mobius' babbling mouth in a soft kiss. He pulls back and smiles.

"You may have ruined Odin's evening, but you made mine. Don't worry about the repercussions, nothing will happen tonight and I'll call Mother in the morning. You didn't actually hurt him, so there's nothing they can legally do, and his pride won't let him try anyways."

He rains butterfly kisses down all over Mobius's face. "You were brilliant. No one's ever stood up to him like that. Least of all for me."

The kisses and reassurances are nice, don't get him wrong, but he did just definitely toss a glass of wine on a political official in a foreign country and OH his boyfriend's dad.

"He's very stand-up-to-able, I'm surprised. By a lot of things. He was out of line. He can't just say shit like that about you and get away with it." A breath. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Loki gives a little laugh "I'm great! I'm going to show you how great I am as soon as we're back at the hotel."

"Even though I definitely ruined the night and embarrassed you? Even though your parents definitely hate me? At least he probably won't ever invite you back? Am I going to be barred from entering the country ever again? Will there be cops involved? I can't believe I did that!"

"I cannot stress enough that you did not ruin my evening or embarrass me. The only person embarrassed was him. We can worry about their emotions in the morning, no you won't be barred from the country, no there will not be police involved." The car pulls to a stop outside the hotel. Luckily word of where they're staying doesn't seem to have reached any news outlets yet, so there aren't any reporters by the front door.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

"And hide me, yeah, good idea. Jesus. Does he always talk to you like that?" He follows dutifully, side by side and hand in hand with Loki. "I won't let him."

"It's not uncommon, but I suspect something else set him off before we approached. Usually he's able to hold his tongue in public better than that." Arm around Mobius' waist, he guides the man into the elevator. As soon at the door closes he bends down and starts nosing at the other's neck, pressing soft kisses to his still fluttering pulse point.

"Fuck, Mobius, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

He's about to speculate on what might have set him off (Loki's very targeted outfit? some supporter or donor who actually is a bit of a shitheel? god, something about Mobius?) when Loki starts doing that.

"Wh- Lo-" out of surprise. "No, it definitely wasn't, that's just the rush talking."

"It most certainly was," Loki says, crowding Mobius against the wall of the elevator as he continues his assault on his neck. "My knight in shining armor. Come back to my room so I can show you my appreciation."

"I, uh, promise I didn't do it just to get into your pants." This is all kind of much! Bewildering and intense and--not bad? It's bad, sure, but this isn't bad. "And I'm probably not going to get the chance to yell at your dad ever again." Though there might be some video of it. Oh fuck.

Loki chuckles as the elevator doors open onto their floor. "The fact that you didn't do it in order to fuck me makes it even better." He takes a step back, taking Mobius' hand to tug him along.

"Please?"

"What am I gonna do," following along, hand in hand, "say no?" Because jesus christ of course he's not going to say no to going back to Loki's room and getting appreciation if Loki's so in the mood to give it. "You really do think--you're really getting off on this, huh?"

"No one," he says, pulling out the keycard and opening the door in one fluid motion, "stands up to Odin. Least of all for me." The door opens and Loki pulls Mobius closer as he backs into the room. It's dark, the only light being a desk lamp he'd thought to leave on before they left, but he doesn't make a move to turn anything else on.

"But you- you didn't even hesitate. People here those things and the most they-" the emotions of the moment are starting to catch up to him. How does he express that he's dreamed about this since he first figured out he didn't just like girls? That he'd imagined someone coming in and putting Odin in his place ever since he realized he might be more than a man? Every disdainful look, every cutting word making him retreat further into the fantasy that one day someone might care enough about him to do something about it. He doesn't tear up, but for a moment the frantic pawing stops as Loki draws him in to a tight embrace.

"Thank you."

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