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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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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And there are a lot of noises to devour, especially as the command tips him over the edge. Every muscle tenses as he comes, strangled moan muffled by Mobius' lips as Loki thrusts erratically into his hand, seed spilling into the water between them.

A delicious haze falls over him as the last drops are spent and his muscles finally relax. He drops his head forward onto Mobius' shoulder, panting slightly.

"Thank y-you, s-Mobius."

They're wonderful sounds, even if muffled. Almost as wonderful as the sight of Loki spent and dazed. Mobius rubs at his back lightly. "Might let you say it in the future. But you're doing a good job of not saying it tonight. Good at following my instructions. And you're gonna keep being good for me, aren't you?"

Loki nods against Mobius' shoulder, the euphoria still coursing through his veins making him feel loose and heavy.

"Yes, I promise I'll be good. Be whatever you want."

He presses a kiss to Loki's temple, holding him loosely, but holding him all the same. "We're gonna soak a bit longer. At least 'til you've got yourself together. Take as much time as you need."

Loki nods, shifting to hold Mobius to him in a more comfortable position (which mostly ended up with Mobius in his lap.) It isn't quite sub space, but the bliss of post-orgasm is probably as close as he can get without a lot more work on Mobius' part. Still, the fact that he already got that close is a pretty good sign for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Loki feels a bit more grounded. A thought strikes him and he can't quite manage to hold back a snicker.

"Can't believe we're just sitting here in what is essentially lavender sperm soup."

There are exactly zero problems with being in Loki's lap, frankly, so it's all comfortable.

The comment, however, gets a laugh in return. And a pinch to the side. "Big as this tub is, as much water as is in here, if you came enough to make it a sperm soup, I'll be thoroughly impressed and suitably intimidated. But if you're done marinating, we can get you dried off and mosey on over to your fun room..."

Loki flinches away from the pinch, huffing another laugh himself as he uses his toes to pull the plug om the opposite side of the tub. He places a quick, if sloppy, kiss to Mobius' cheek.

"'Mosey.' Such a fun word."

"Call me old fashioned that way. We could meander," he adds, not doing very much to move at this very moment, "or maybe saunter. Sidle, slink, or if we want to go faster about it, we could make our way posthaste."

At last, he slides himself from Loki and makes to get out, offering a hand to help Loki--not that he needs it.

He doesn't need it, but he still takes it, carefully steps out of the tub and onto the soft bath mat. He stretches, not unlike a cat just woken from a midday nap, before grabbing one of the plush towels hanging nearby.

"For you," he says, holding it out to Mobius.

"You're too kind."

But Mobius is Mobius, a soft dom, maybe a service top, do the words really matter in the end? Therefore he doesn't towel himself off, but rather starts on Loki first. Patting and rubbing up and down all over, taking in the clinging scent of lavender.

And then a kiss to the forehead. "Are you feeling more relaxed now?"

Loki moves silently to allow Mobius to do his task easier. Despite the warm, humid air of the bathroom, goosebumps breakout where ever he touches. He still feels somewhat floaty after orgasm, so he simply closes his eyes and leans into the feeling of being cared for.

He nods at the question. "Much more relaxed. Between the bath, the massage, and the orgasm, it's almost like this week never happened."

"Best news I've heard all day." Mobius grins and does a much quicker and half-cocked job drying himself, clearly less important to him. "You sure you're up for more? Double checking. We can just go to bed and frolic between the sheets if you want."

Again, Loki nods. He pulls himself closer to press against Mobius' side and presses a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm green. Good to go if you still are."

"Okay. Good. To your swanky sex dungeon that's not a dungeon it is." He'll lead the way, even. "It definitely doesn't have to be below ground to be a dungeon, by the way."

"Dungeons are dark and rough. My sex room is elegant and comfortable." Loki follows, taking one of Mobius' hands as they walk.

"The St. Andrew's Cross is even padded!" He gestures to said X sitting against a wall. "Dungeons don't have padded restraints like that."

"So if I go to a club and they've got a sex dungeon, it's going to be all rough and no padding? Padding's what turns it from a dungeon to a room?" He brings Loki's hand up to kiss the back of it, smiling easy. It's all just teasing, after all.

"Hey, I want you to demonstrate the spank bench for me." While they're at it.

Loki rolls his eyes, but remains smiling nontheless. "It's a personal preference, darling. Some people call them 'dungeons', some, like me, prefer a more elegant approach."

He saunters over to the spanking bench, running a finger along the top of the green leather. "Am I going to get a treat for being so good?" he asks as he gracefully climbs onto it, resting his chest on the padded top and slipping his ankles and wrists through the loosened cuffs. He wiggles his ass a little once fully in place.

"See? Nice comfortable height for you. It's sturdy enough you can fuck me on here too."

It's very, very nice to look at. And the added information is neatly tucked away for later.

But he's been caught by a detail that he's turning over in his mind again and again. Even as he comes up behind Loki and runs fingers down his spin, along hips, over delightful ass.

"I'll call it a room if you call me darling again."

Loki arches his back, pressing further into the top of the bench and sticking his as up just a bit more as Mobius runs a finger down his spine.

"Daaarling," he purrs, tingles of electricity radiating from everywhere Mobius touches. If he hadn't just come not even ten minutes ago he would already be achingly hard right now.

"Mm, okay. Sex room it is." He steps back, away, to the closet. "Do you want to be strapped in or have your limbs free? And the next choice: paddle or my hand?"

Loki hums, considering the options.

"Strapped down, and...could you start with your hand then switch to the paddle when you see fit?" He doesn't want to be in complete control of the session, so giving the option to switch seems like a good compromise.

"I'll pick one of your selection if I switch over. And I won't tell you when it's coming if I do."

He picks one that says slut on it, given that Loki has expressed an enjoyment of the word. Sets it aside when he comes back over to his boyfriend and starts adjusting the straps, wrists first, then ankles. Knowing that Loki will speak up if it's too tight or too loose.

He leans over Loki, enough that his semi-harness pushes against soft flesh, so he can kiss a few vertebrae.

"I like it when you're loud. Hope you never get complaints from your neighbors."

He straightens just enough to give a nice swift smack to the meat of Loki's ass.

Loki gives Mobius a brief pointer on how to make sure they're at their proper tightness. Each get a solid tug after they're secure and he assures Mobius that they feel perfect.

His shiver is more when he feels the warm kisses on his back, the wonderful semi-hard cock pressed against his ass.

"Don't worry, the room is sound pr-AH!" The sharp SMACK and subsequent sting cut him off. It wasn't even that hard of a smack, he's definitely had worse, but the suddenness of it catches him off guard.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that." He kneads that spot for a moment. Then spanks the opposite cheek. "You might have to speak up." And a pair of slaps further.

"I said-Mh! The w-AH-lls are s-sound proof!" Loki practically squeals at the last smack, squirming slightly in the restrains. He isn't tugging at them, and truthfully probably didn't need them to stay in place, but he likes the weighty reminders of his lack of control.

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