The touch across his back, muted by his jacket, still brought a hint of mischief into the edges of Loki's expression, the corners of his mouth curling up fractionally as they settle into the car. It made his heart flutter in a way that he normally only felt when he was on the edge of having an explosive panic attack, the results of which tended to almost always launch him into a violent coping resolution, and it was odd in its unfamiliarity. Odd in the flood of warmth it brought him.

Loki's head stays on a swivel and he looks over to watch Paul drive into the little car shop lot. What had he done? You shouldn't have to wait. Nothing could have stopped the way his lips curled at the edges, face softening fondly. He wants to make a joke about this being payment for that great fuck the other night, but it wasn't 'just a fuck' and this idea is swiftly followed by dissent. He didn't want to make what they had small and Paul's work was rock solid. Any car tuned by him probably ran just as good if not better than when it rolled off the lot.

"Put a rush job on it?" As soon as Paul parks, Loki steps out, closing the door but waiting with his arm resting on the top of Paul's car for the man himself to step out and lead the way. "It's only been two days - parts get in early?"