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 The link she sent him takes him to a rather outdated looking webpage for the "TVA Salon and Spa", an older establishment that apparently started in the 50's as a barber shop, but recent made the jump to full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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It's thankfully not some super upscale swanky place, or Mobius would have some second thoughts. As it is, it's just a coffeeshop, and he almost doesn't spot Loki at all, tucked away as he is.

"Hey," his greeting for slipping into a seat opposite. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Not at all." Loki smiles at Mobius as he sits. Seeing him not wearing his usual smock is a little weird, but in a good way.

"How has your day been?"

It better be a good way, those things are hardly fashionable. "Quiet, thankfully. I admit I've been fretting about what to wear on our little trip, though."

Loki waves a hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. As long as you have a suit for the gala and a warm coat for sight seeing, you'll be fine."

Speaking of, Loki needs to figure out what he's wearing. Should they coordinate? Would that be too much?

"Shall we order? I wanted to wait for you."

...Hm. Warm coat. That one he might need to look into better. "How warm is warm?" He should, perhaps, research the country and its weather this time of year! Hm.

"Yeah, my treat. That's not an excuse to go overboard," he says jokingly. Maybe Loki does that; he's got the money for it. But Mobius wants to be the one paying for a first date.

Because this is actually a date! He's pretty sure!

"It will be early fall, so roughly...January weather in this area?" The cold never bothered Loki as much as it had others, something that has only become more pronounced since he moved away from his home country. Even in the coldest parts of winter in the city, he won't wear more than a thin wool peacoat and maybe gloves if Sylvie forces them on him.

He smiles as they stand to go to the counter. He frequents here enough that he doesn't need to look over the menu board above the shelves of coffee beans and sugary syrups.

"Oh, so no 24k gold latte?" Not that this cafe even has such a thing on the menu. He tells the barista his order, a small mocha with two extra shots of espresso and extra vanilla.

"Hm, might need a whole new wardrobe at this rate." It's a joke. He's joking. Do not buy him a new wardrobe.

"No gold latte, but you sure are a glutton for caffeine, aren't you?" Mobius is one to talk, if one has ever taken notice of his sugary caffeinated soda intake, but at least his hazelnut latte doesn't have any extra shots of anything in it. And a chocolate eclair thank you. It's lunchtime, he needs a nibble. "It's a wonder you don't bounce off the walls."

"This is nothing. In law school I could down five shots and still fall asleep in the library at noon." Amongst other chemical stimulants on both sides of the legal spectrum.

It is very VERY hard to not offer to buy Mobius a closet full of clothes, but yesterdays conversation keeps him from it. Well, almost. Sorta.

"I know a few stores that have good winter clothes. Actual good winter clothes," he clarifies. "Not sweaters that fall apart halfway through the season. We could...if you want to, that is."

"That's called crashing, Loki. You got very caffeinated and then it wore off and you crashed." He's teasing but also Loki that is not healthy.

That Loki is careful in his wording is...interesting. Because for as much as they've talked, there does seem to be something of a barrier in communication. Blind spots, maybe? This is a date, going to visit the family is not? Or perhaps is but no one wants to admit it?

"We could." He hasn't needed anything too much lately. Clothes are clothes, and so long as they aren't full of holes, it's fine. But a fine winter coat might be nice. A new suit, one that looks acceptable among the upper crust? Maybe. Is social status going to be a problem? Loki's indicated not, but Mobius isn't exactly certain that Loki would know, precisely. "Wouldn't be opposed to it. I like getting some tips and tricks from you on things not hair related."

The barista passes their drinks off with a smile as Loki shoves a couple of bills in their tip jar. What? Mobius paid, he can tip!

"Better not have been crashing, with everything else in my blood at the time." Loki mutters before taking a sip. Law school was rough, he was determined to not just graduate, but graduate top of his class, thinking it would show Odin what he was worth. Ha.

"Well, if this outfit is any indication, you clearly already know how to dress yourself quite well." Loki gives him an easy smile, slipping more and more into the comfortable flirtation he enjoys with friends.

Okay, well! That definitely means Loki has stories from his time in school, which will be something to ask about in a place that is not currently in public (depending on statutes of limitations possibly). Mostly he just cocks an eyebrow and files that tidbit away for later.

As far as the flirting, though, that gets a self-conscious laugh out of Mobius, a rub to the back of the head. "Well, I wasn't gonna show up in a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops." Casual, sure, but not too casual. "But I also feel like I should never actually show you my closet lest I be judged and judged harshly."

Loki chuckles at the idea of Mobius in a tropical shirt and sandals. His mind also helpfully fills in swim trunks, sunglasses, and a large sunhat. Not a bad look on him, if his imagination is anything to go by.

"Oh, it can't be that bad. As long as you don't try to wear socks with those thongs, I don't see a problem." Having learned the language from a British teacher, Loki tends to favor that side of the pond when it comes to slang terms. Normally he can keep the more troublesome ones straight, but sometimes...

Or maybe he just wants to see Mobius' reaction to the word 'thong.'

Listen. He knows there's a difference. Context clues tell him exactly what is intended to say. But that doesn't matter, because Loki says thongs, and Mobius starts to laugh. "I dunno, I might see a problem if I'm wearing anything at all with thongs."

"Well you'd have to- oh." Loki sighs, but smiles in a way that says he doesn't mind being the butt of the joke. The way Mobius' face lights up as he laughs makes his stomach do a little flip.

"Well this is certainly better than when I mixed up the slang term for cigarettes my first year. The English language is a scourge. Words common to one country should not be so drastically different in another."

That it was an honest mistake is even cuter, actually. "English took a bunch of languages out back and beat 'em for their lunch money. It's nonsense. How did native speakers ever learn it? We've got different slang for things within the same country, too, just...maybe not thongs and--ahem, cigarettes."

Loki chuckles. "Linguistics certainly is a puzzling subject."

He takes another sip of his drink, savoring the sharp taste of the coffee cutting the sweet chocolate.

"Are you serious about wanting to go shopping? If so, I'm free almost every evening after 5 or so. Or we could make a day of it, go on a weekend--assuming you aren't working, that is."

"A day of shopping? You really want to spend a lot of time with me, don't you?" He says it with an air of fascination. Loki actually is genuinely interested in him, huh? Wild. "Sure. We can do that. Gives us a chance to know each other a little better."

"Proper shopping trips takes more than just a few hours." There's selecting, then trying on, then adjusting selections, then trying on again, then checking another store...

Loki likes shopping.

"Would you want to meet at the shop, or I could...pick you up?"

"Our shopping trips are, uh. Very different." Not necessarily a bad thing? Maybe?

"Please tell me you drive your own car and you don't get chauffeured around in a limo."

Loki grins and, for a second, considers renting a limo for just one day. Perhaps another time.

"Not to worry, I drive my own car and it is far more understated than a limo."

"Then, if you want to pick me up..."

Why does that feel so thrilling? Like butterflies dancing around in his gut. He hasn't felt like that in a long time. "Kinda feels like it should be the other way around. I'll text you my address, we can make a day of it until I start complaining. If you're sure. Like a...second date."

Loki's heart flutters at the implication that not only was this a gate, but they were already planning another. It's silly, he shouldn't be having these reactions. He's no blushing virgin; he's had plenty of partners over the years! But somehow this feels different.

"It's a date." No confirmation that this was indeed a date as well, but the smile on his face says he doesn't mind the label.

An alarm goes off on Loki's phone and he groans. "I need to get back, there's a client coming in at 2 we need to prep for."

"Oh." He smiles, with a cringe. Time flies so fast, and Loki's a busy guy with an important career. "Don't let me keep you, obviously. This was nice, though. We should--" He stops, laughs at himself. "God, I was gonna say we should do this again sometime, but we're already planning the next get-together."

He's really fucking about this guy, huh.

It's that evening that he texts Loki his address, modest little apartment, suits his bachelor needs just fine. If Mobius is practically floating through his next several shifts--yes, his coworkers are commenting on it, and no, he isn't confirming (or denying) anything. Casey seems moderately oblivious if happy for him, but Bee absolutely gives him some well-intentioned ribbing/hell about it. Makes jokes that maybe she should keep her hands off Mr. Odinson, maybe Mobius would like to learn the fine art of massage for home use, or maybe Loki has some magic fingers of his own--

It's fine so long as no one says anything in front of the clients, thank you VERY much.

Does this mean he's fretting about his clothing options and his sense of style when the whole point of a shopping trip is to make sure he has appropriate wear (and style) for the trip? Of course it does. How can he not fret? He's just some guy. He's some guy that a bigshot lawyer with a political family in another country has taken an interest in. That doesn't happen to him! That's a Hallmark movie, and he is not starring in one. Except maybe he is. Is this really romance, or is this...something else?

He feels like he's twenty and stupid all over again. Wild.

Loki doesn't tell anyone when he gets back to the office, but the dopey way he smiles at his phone when Mobius texts him is all Sylvie needs. She ribs him a little, reminds him not to overdo it. Again.

He texts Mobius a few more times in the days between. At first he's simply arranging a time to pick him up, then he realizes Mobius doesn't know what his car looks like, and is that important? No, he's going to be a gentleman and go to Mobius' door to pick him up. It doesn't stop him from sending a slew of ridiculous looking cars, trying to pretend they are his.

He parks his perfectly sensible two door black Benz in front of the apartment before going up to knock on Mobius' door. Just after his knuckles hit the wood he realizes he probably should have brought something. Flowers? Wine?

Well, too late now.

It's a fun back and forth. Mobius makes comments as though he can see the merit in the ridiculous cars, knowing very well that they're hideous monstrosities that Loki wouldn't be caught dead owning. (Well. Maybe the gold one, but not for daily driving.)

He's being casual. He's dressed casual. This is casual. It's shopping, no need to get all gussied up for it, even as he guesses and second and third guesses himself right up until Loki knocks on the door. Loki's at the door. Hoo boy. Is his hair fine? Yes it's fine. Is there a mess in the front room that might be glimpsed in the brief instant the door will be open? No, there isn't, he's sure of it. Breath mint? Had.

Okay. Okay! He opens the door and tries to hide the nervous energy with a grin. "Hi. Thanks for this, you really didn't have to."

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