Loki could suggest at least three good laundry places, but the one he wanted to suggest was the one at his apartment. It was still communal, but it worked. It was close. Maybe Loki could talk Paul into.. just hanging out in his apartment while he waited for them. He couldn't let those daydreams get ahead of him too much, and he smiles at the mug pressed into his hand and takes a polite sip. A soft 'Thank you' was murmured at the resettling of his shoes and he keeps his eyes locked on Paul's shoulder as he walks away.
It still seemed impossible that Paul was here. That Paul was here and so.. so okay. He knew the man was hiding something, had something tucked up and away. But that was okay. Loki would rather have Paul and not all the answers than the other way around. Maybe he'd tell him, eventually.
By the time Paul comes back out, Loki's shoes were on, he'd already powered through the one cup and poured himself a second, and he was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt.
"I hate the collars," he huffs, even as he buttons his top button to hide the hint of ink that would be visible otherwise. "But people respect the professionalism that comes with it. They still won't catch me dead in a tie though."
He had a moral stance against them, in that men shouldn't be made to walk around with a would be noose on their neck.
"Still feels... weird." To have that kind of respect, even with his record. To have that kind of presentation, even if it didn't fit who and what kind of man he really was. A cotton and starch façade.
"Will I see you before Wednesday?" The question came with him tucking his shirt in, the last piece to the put together puzzle of a mask he showed the outside world.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-11-26 03:39 am (UTC)It still seemed impossible that Paul was here. That Paul was here and so.. so okay. He knew the man was hiding something, had something tucked up and away. But that was okay. Loki would rather have Paul and not all the answers than the other way around. Maybe he'd tell him, eventually.
By the time Paul comes back out, Loki's shoes were on, he'd already powered through the one cup and poured himself a second, and he was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt.
"I hate the collars," he huffs, even as he buttons his top button to hide the hint of ink that would be visible otherwise. "But people respect the professionalism that comes with it. They still won't catch me dead in a tie though."
He had a moral stance against them, in that men shouldn't be made to walk around with a would be noose on their neck.
"Still feels... weird." To have that kind of respect, even with his record. To have that kind of presentation, even if it didn't fit who and what kind of man he really was. A cotton and starch façade.
"Will I see you before Wednesday?" The question came with him tucking his shirt in, the last piece to the put together puzzle of a mask he showed the outside world.