cuttingremark (
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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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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There are more indications that last night happened, such as the remnants of lipstick on his lower half, his discarded suit on the floor by the entranceway. He bundles himself up in a robe and follows the quiet noises from the living room of the suite. Whether Loki's still on the phone or not, Mobius comes up behind him, arms around him, face buried in his shoulder, with a muffled, "Breakfast."
Priorities, he's got em.
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"The phone works both ways you know." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I know. No, I know. Very well. I love you too, Mother. See you in the spring." He hangs up and drops the phone onto the nearby table with a heavy sigh before turning to bury his face in Mobius neck.
"Morning."
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"Morning. Breakfast," again, with a little wigglewobble of laminated menu, and shuffles them both over to a seat to both look over it. "Coffee." Also important.
He is starting to catch up here. "...Were you telling your mom we're sleeping together? Didn't sound like a fun conversation."
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"She's just shocked I'm actually confessing to being in a relationship. They got it in their heads a bit ago that I had a secret paramour I was hiding from them for some reason or another."
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It's an idle comment, something he might not have voiced if he were a little bit more present and caffeinated. But he was certainly going to let Odin talk shit about him until Mobius stepped in and nearly threw hands.
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"That's a completely different situation. If I tried it would only make it worse," he says in almost a whisper, his face an inscrutable mask.
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"I was right, though. Mother said he'd just found out he was loosing a big donor before the event. Doesn't excuse it, but it explains why he went directly to calling me a whore rather than waiting until family dinner."
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"This help?" And also maybe the sexual favors from last night.
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"It does." Loki wraps his own arms around Mobius and gives a little squeeze.
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"If either of us is going to pull something, I'd rather it be during much more interesting activities than that."
Loki doesn't drift back to sleep, but he does enter a very peaceful state listening to Mobius breath in the quiet room. They stay intertwined on the couch until the food arrives and they're forced to get up. The food is delicious (obviously) and the coffee plentiful and very welcome.
"At some point, I'm going to get you to try sour herring. It's a right of passage." The coffee seems to have perked him up.
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Happy 600 comments
/throws confetti
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