Loki smiles and Paul can feel his heart melting, can feel him wanting to mirror it back. He's gripping the little piece of paper tightly, not wanting to let go of it with either hand, first: a child with his very first valentine, completely smitten by the way his crush smiles. He almost feels happy. Loki seems to have the same idea, offering small talk they should both theoretically hate but feels easy with each other. Neither of them like to beat around the bush, neither of them had ever shied away from that sort of confrontation--sans Paul's preternatural ability to end most of things by simply not responding--but they're skirting around things right now.

But there's an unsaid promise between the two of them. Paul would call. Loki would pick up. And for now, Paul has a car to fix and Loki has a job. Paul places the numbered napkin in his pants, grabbing his wallet and pay for the both of them with a generous tip and a fistfull of dollars. They both eat quickly when they remember to: runoff of the boys home. He shakes his head.

"You gotta go to work."