[ its old habits again. It's Paul crawling into Loki's bed without a word because he's scared and Loki doesn't care if he's essentially mute. It's Loki doing the same because Paul accepts him wholly and unconditionally. It's the two of them communicating in their own cadence, their own language.
Paul has a difficult time sleeping, sure. He pulls all nighters frequently, especially if he's a driver for someone. But Loki, he's got reasons. He's haunted. He's a good guy in every sense now. Not a cop, but a detective, and Paul desperately wants the other to tell him everything. The good parts, the bad parts, why he's crazy enough to get into the field even though Paul already has a few inklings.
Loki will. Maybe Paul will prod him. The blonde nods. ]
Okay.
[ loki's not like other people. Paul tends to talk more in the other's presence. He reaches up to gently run fingers along that long scar on Loki's head softly as he rises. ]
Stay. I want you to stay.
[ forever. Until however long he can. Until Paul needs to leave town because of Bernie. Paul's voice is soft but he means every word, and he's moving towards the small closet to grab fresh towels, fighting the urge not to grin, but he's grinning anyway, childlike and earnest. Happy. Loki's going to stay with him. They're going to curl up together. The thought of one of them taking the couch simply doesnt register to him, not with how they grew up.
Maybe they can both have a good thing. Maybe they deserve it. ]
[Stay. I want you to stay. Loki's heart swells and flutters up into his throat at the words, at the look on Paul's face as he caresses his newest scar and he finds himself a little breathless with it all as he watches Paul's retreating back. The coffee is downed in a few, hurried gulps, cup set on the coffee table as Loki follows behind him, and he finds himself with a matching grin as Paul grabs two towels instead of one.]
I hope that your shower can handle having two asses in there. Even if we gotta press a little to fit.
[There was no question in Loki's mind that they would share the same bed. Of course they would, like they were seven and nine again, taking refugee in the only place that they were allowed some fraction of peace. Loki points at a half open door, already walking towards it as he asks-]
Bathroom?
[Either way, Loki was peeling off his shirt again, readying it for throwing right into the floor.]
Loki peels off his shirt and Paul can't help the smile that creeps up his face when the other walks away and towards the bathroom. He feels light, he realizes--he feels like there's a weight that's been lifted off of his shoulders because of Loki's sheer presence. The simple casual way he rucks his shirt off again, the way that Paul is automatically doing the same with his own clothes and following suit.
Where he lives has never felt like home, but with Loki in the room it's more than just a place to sleep.
They shower, and Paul no longer minds that Loki can see his shoulder wound or the mostly healed stomach injury. Loki has far more damage--that cut on Loki's head, the angle of it, how horrifyingly beautiful it is when paired with the red in his eye that has yet to clear--and the water is too warm, the company too great. Paul keeps the strict cleanliness and discipline of the boys home they grew up embedded in him save for treating himself to a long, hot shower whenever he can. It's the one thing he allows himself and he appreciates it all the more when he gets to share it with the one person who actually understands him. They shower and Paul resists the urge to kiss the other when they're out, instead handing him a towel.
Paul doesn't have much but they're each other's size now, so once they're out the blonde is already tossing a pair of clean sweatpants at Loki's head without giving him a heads up, that boyish smile unable to leave his face.
Loki sees the wounds and stops Paul long enough to drift his fingers curiously over their edges, worry flitting through his face, but he didn't ask about them yet, instead just telling Paul to stop hogging all the hot water and switch with him. It was hard to not kiss him again, to not grab his head and lovingly sucking face but Loki was sure that was too needy. That that was too far somehow.
He smiles crookedly as he takes the towel and starts drying off, eyes trained on Paul's shoulders as he moves and Loki follows like a shadow, feeling more like they were 15 again than anything else. That perfect golden hour of time they'd had before everything went back to shit. He laughs as the sweatpants hit him and catches them, leaving his towel draped over his shoulder.
The sweatpants are tugged on and the towel tossed back into the bathroom with a promise- "I'll clean up once I'm done sleeping-" with the intent behind it being 'don't you go doing it instead'. Loki moves towards the bed, happy to leave his shirt off and get up under the thin blanket that passed for cover over the cheap sheets.
"I hope you don't still snore like you used to." Lies; Loki had always snored heavier, being the heavier sleeper, but even after so many years, he would never admit to it.
Paul's smile only widens, slightly lopsided as he openly admires his topless crush, noting the apartment seems a little bigger with Loki here and maybe a little brighter, too. They're back to when they were young and reckless and his heart skips a beat, completely forgetting there's a mess in the bathroom at all. He's focused on Loki as he slides into bed and following suit.
"You think I snore?" He asks, playful tone lacking his usual quietness. His retort is lightning quick: he's reaching out to pull Loki into him, pulling the other into a bear hug embrace whether he likes it or not and refusing to let go.
The benefit of getting into bed first is getting to watch Paul crawl in beside him - can't believe we're getting to do this again - and he should have expected the grapple. Right hand plastering on Paul's shoulder as he's pulled in, Loki laughs and drapes his arm over Paul's, propping his head up on his other hand.
I missed you was written all over his face, mirrored with a stupid smile of his own. A beat passed and then two before Loki was bending down and kissing Paul again for the sheer sake of feeling him against his lips. It broke and that smile was back, soft but wide and elated.
"I do think you snore. Just keep it down otherwise I'm gonna spend whatever times left in that 4 hours I promised keeping an eye on you." That sounded better than 'staring lovingly and marveling at how you're here'.
Loki's smile--Loki's genuine smile, not the bullshit he uses with other people--is warm and bright and Paul wants to do nothing but kiss it over, and over, and over.
How quickly the fall into a pattern again, how swift they go right back to how it was. Paul feels giddy. There's no thoughts of Nino's guys, no paranoid urge to double check the tape under the door they've already destroyed. Just Loki.
Just Loki and that slow, soft way they kiss, the kind that has Paul aching for more. He runs a hand through Loki's hair as he talks, mesmerized by the buzzcut, the feel, and then chances a soft kiss on Loki's cheek.
"You're gonna sleep," he assures, soft and quiet voice sounding more like a command, "I'm gonna be here."
'You can rest properly,' is more what he wants to say. 'I can protect you.'
He settles for another soft hug, detangling himself only to reach over and turn off the light.
The strokes were soothing in a sharp way that Loki hadn't realized he missed as much as he does, and Paul's assurance helps the detective scoot down a fraction so that he could lay properly and snuggle in closer, entangling their legs like setting a tripwire to a bell of alarm. His arm stays locked around Paul's waist as he tucks himself under Paul's chin, the place where he'd always felt most comfortable and secure.
"You fuckin' better," Loki rumbles with a sigh. The funny thing about it was that as soon as the words were out, as soon as he'd exhaled, Detective Loki was actually falling asleep. He'd been awake for more than 24 hours at this point and the much needed fucking and the hot shower was working against him staying awake in the warm and exceptionally secure embrace of his soulmate. Paul had always kept him safe, from bullies, from abuse, from his childhood nightmares that had only morphed and mutated in his adulthood. Spurred to the darker pits of humanity's depravity, his nightmares were part of the reason he slept like shit when he did sleep. Loki's brain was rarely ever quiet or still.
But the scent and feeling of Paul around him again, under all the shampoo and soap, Loki's brain finally settled and sent the man into a deep sleep. Normally reliant on his reliable internal clock, Loki's clock was set to snooze and instead of four, it was more like six.
When he finally did wake, it was with a deep breath and a questioning squeeze of his limbs to make sure Paul was still there like his everything expected.
Paul sleeps, too, though it's not for six hours straight. It's for four and a half, and when he wakes up and Loki is still tucked against his arm and the elation in his mind is wondrous.
This is real. This isn't something he's dreamed--and he has every so often, a recurring one thats just him and Loki--and Paul thinks about how fucking lucky he is that not only do dreams come true, but Loki seems to reciprocate his feelings if those legs entangled and entwined in his is anything to go by.
Paul may have snored, but when he wakes he can't fall asleep. Not when he's looking at years he's lost, Loki's lashes long and delicate cupids bow soft in his peaceful slumber. There's something beautiful about how something so etched in the dedication of others and forged in acrid morality can look so cherubic.
Paul kisses Loki's forehead and whispers a passage he still knows from all of those times he'd memorized the Bible just to impress Loki when they were young.
"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love."
When Loki does wake, Paul's still up but hasn't detangled himself. His arm is numb, but it's the one that's been shot. He can't feel it anyway.
The whisper didn't come anywhere close to waking him but asleep Loki still grips Paul with a contented breath at the soft sound of him as the wrap of sleep holds him against Paul. Of course Loki loves him; Paul was an oasis of comfort and security. They had always fought for each other, loved each other in the best way they knew how, and Loki had long understood how their weaknesses and strengths complimented each other. It had always been them against the world and for all the fleeting and rare dreams that Loki had about waking up in Paul's arms, there were just as many mornings that he woke up alone and anxious, ready to dive back into purposeful work that kept him out of his own sorrows.
This morning was different - a wash of relief out swelled the fear and loneliness that sat at the ready in Loki's chest and when he shifts his head back a fraction so he can look up in Paul's face, a sleepy smile slowly curls across his features. You're still here.
"Morning," he rumbles roughly, taking a deep breath as he starts to stretch, groaning softly before curling back into Paul, pressing a kiss to his chest. He could stay here for another hour at least; he hadn't slept so well in -
The relaxed air about him stiffened with a breath as he realized that there's no way it's been only four hours and he pulls his head back, eyes wide. "Oh shit. Did we oversleep?"
They fit together. Just like this, Paul looking down at Loki's stocky frame and slightly panicked face, reveling in the kiss on his chest. Reveling in the fact that Loki's here. He brings a hand up to play with Loki's hair--a new favourite thing, he realizes--and offers a quiet nod to Loki's question. It's cute, the way the other tenses up almost immediately. Paul wants that sleepy smile back though.
Loki's warm against him. Paul thinks maybe this is how he can combat that constant drizzle and cold mists of Washington: have his childhood friend curl up with him. Paul doesn't seem nearly as worried about what time it is.
It was tempting, oh so tempting to relax back to the carefree ease he'd been in, and while he relaxed a little - who could do anything else under that inarguably loving touch - he knew their time in this little bubble of bliss was limited. He had to be where he was expected so no one asked any questions. So he didn't have to admit to stealing time out of his own life for Paul. For the air that Paul seemed to provide his soul.
But it was easy to take Paul's lead.
"Only a couple. Surprisingly decent ones." They all had Paul here. "Not sure that I'm not still dreaming right now, if I'm being honest." Were they sure this wasn't a dream? Loki's fingers start brushing up and down Paul's back like a reassurance to himself that it wasn't. Were they going to be allowed to do this again?
"Mmmm-hmm." Paul's back to his quiet murmurs and soft voice, not wanting to break the spell. Seems like Loki's trying to do the same thing, and Paul curls his arm so Loki's just a little bit closer.
He likes this better than the nights in the dormitories. The mattress is about the same size, and they're older (and Loki's just as tall as he is) and scrunched in a little more, but there's no threat of anyone finding them and if he's being honest, Paul thinks he's different now in the sense that he realized what he's missed.
Maybe some good came out of showing his true self to Irene, if only for this. It's the best sleep he's had in a while, the most calm and centered he's felt in ages. He doesn't feel lonely with Loki around. He also doesn't want to get up, or to break the spell in any way. He decides not to, just for now.
"I could take you for Mexican this week," he says quietly. An open invitation. They'd mentioned it briefly, how they'd have to drive ages out of town, but Paul doesn't care. Driving is what he does.
God he loved how that felt, Paul's arm tightening around him and he caves to his impulses, tucking his face back into Paul's chest like they could hide from the day without anyone noticing. Five more minutes, he'll just take five more-
One night and Paul was already making him soft. Then again, Paul got a good night sleep. Maybe that was worth the soft.
"Wednesday night," came the muttered reply. "We can go Wednesday night."
That was only 3 nights away. They could manage that right? Loki would bust his ass if he had to; anything to make sure he was free for a date night..
"Think my car will be done by then? Because until then, either you're driving me around or I'm hoofing it."
Wednesday night. Wednesday night and Paul gets to have a date with Loki. He's never had a date before, not an official one--driving around with Irene and before that stealing cars and taking a younger Loki for joyrides, sure, but a date date?
He can do it. He can try for Loki. Loki deserves nice things. Loki's a good guy, a good person, and Paul knows for a fact the other man won't take time off unless he's being gently strong armed. Why not a date?
"I wanna drive you around," he confesses, and it feels like he's proclaiming his love. He means it, calloused fingers finding their way onto Loki's shoulder, tracing tattoos he hasn't even begun to examine. He's already making plans to drive a few hours to pick up the parts he needs today. He can take the time off. He's a hard worker.
His alarm to get up and go to work interrupts that thought, oldies radio station blasting Tina Turner. Paul tenses only because he hadn't expected it, but his free hand moves to slam down the snooze button, a little more heavy than it needs to be as Paul resents it for the meaning behind it. They have to get up. Paul has to work. Loki has to save the day. Paul sighs.
"You want some shitty coffee for the road?" He's never been able to make it properly, something Loki commented on in the garage earlier. He doesn't care.
I wanna drive you around. Loki couldn't tell if Paul meant until Wednesday or forever and that didn't bother him the way he thought it would. Settling into anything that society considered 'normal' was off the map of possibility, but Paul- Paul knew him. Paul understood.
Loki hums a half second before the alarm goes off and the tension is back in his shoulders as he sharply inhales through his nose. God he hated loud sharp noises when he wasn't working.
"Yeah," he says, letting the breath out and pulling back again to put Paul's face into focus. "Shitty coffee would be great."
Fuck. All he wanted to do was grab Paul's stupid beautiful face and kiss him until the day vanished away under indulgences, but he'd indulged too much already. He had work to do, those kids were counting on him.
Loki tenses, but Paul doesn't comment on it. He's used to it--he knows exactly why. Probably the same reason the other's hellbent on stopping it from happening to other kids.
The blond nods, fully planning on driving up to some fast food joint for breakfast on their way to wherever Loki needs to go as he detangles himself. Paul can barely cook eggs and has nothing in the fridge, but he does have coffee.
The sound of the radio starts immediately as he walks out of the room, an 80s hits one that Paul listens to the morning traffic on. The pot of coffee is easy enough, and he reaches for the small box of toothpicks to put in his mouth, forcing himself not to look at the bedroom. There's a part of him that's terrified that Loki won't actually walk out of there, that maybe this is a dream.
Loki lays there, eyes watching Paul as he successfully gets out of bed, making it look like the easiest thing in the world - but Paul had always done that. Taken the impossible and molded it around his will as best he could, with more grace than was really fair. As the radio kicks on, Loki rolls into Paul's pillow and takes a deep breath, reveling in the smell of Paul and Them and groans softly in protest before rolling himself out of the sheets almost aggressively.
He had to go or he was never going to leave.
After a stop in the bathroom, a finger rub of toothpaste over and around his teeth before a quick and aggressive rinse, Loki pads back out of the bedroom fully dressed and can't stop the pull of a smile at the sight of Paul, like he wasn't a fuckin' angel. The only thing Loki was missing was his shoes and that was his next objective.
"I hung our towels up. Didn't know where you put dirty stuff, but they won't be hard to find when you get around to that... You found a place to do laundry yet?" Shoes on and tied, Loki stands up, ready for that coffee now.
Paul shakes his head no to the laundry quip--he moves every two months and this is one of his newer places--and Loki, well, he knows the lay of the land. Loki knows everything. Loki's smart as hell and the way that undershirt is clinging to him, the way the button up somehow fits him despite it's starched collar and the aura of obeying the man it radiates, it does something for Paul.
Paul's still in just his pyjamas, but a cup of warm coffee in a plain white diner mug is gently pressed into Loki's hands. Paul turns to grab at Loki's shoes and preemptively hands them over too, gaze soft.
'Our towels.' He likes that. As he moves to the bedroom to get dressed he finds himself smiling, and after a few swift beats he's back out, this time with his usual jeans and shirt combo, garage coveralls a contrast to Loki's professional style. He only talks after he's grabbed some coffee himself.
"It suits you," he says simply, gaze raking over Loki's outfit. There's that sense of pride again.
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.
Paul nods again, and maybe he's a little too close to Loki, but he doesn't care and he doesn't think Loki does either. He's always sort of hovered around the other anyway, happy to let Loki do the talking in any situation. This is no exception.
"Mm-hmmm," he affirms, and that boyish smile is back. "Yeah."
He's got to get to work. Loki probably does, too. Paul lingers a little longer. The urge to smooth his hands over Loki's broad shoulders almost wins out, but he settles on crossing his arms.
"I'd like to say yes, but I don't know where I'll be or what I'll be doing. Give me a call or something, when you're free." If Loki could come, he would. The only thing that took precedent was the job. The innocent lives that Loki went after in the name of their freedom. He knew Paul understood that, without question.
Loki downs his cup and sets it down, blue eyes coming back to Paul's. He didn't mind how close Paul was at all and impulse wins in the moment. He grabs Paul's face with both hands and kisses him soundly, like if he was never going to see Paul again, he was going to take this. It ends just as suddenly as it began and there wasn't a shred of shame or doubt in his eyes as his hands come down.
"You ready to go?"
--
Tomorrow was only a day away and while Loki had busted his ass, it was clear by the outfit change that he'd at least seen his home for a minimum of twenty minutes. It was also clear that he hadn't gotten any real sleep, the toothpick in his mouth rolling as he toys with it, both amped up on caffeine and relentlessly tired in a way that balanced itself out. His wounds still ached, forehead hurting any time he was too expressive with his eyebrows.
He'd invited Paul out for cop classic - Coffee and pie - and it was within walking distance from the station, good enough for a well deserved break before the sting that was planned. Loki had ordered an apple crumble slice and whatever on the menu Paul wanted to go with their coffee, and he was holding his cup like it could really do something about the cold that had settled into his bones.
"Give it another week and your shop is gonna be busy as hell. Housewives racing from the Food Lion hitting black ice or their husbands doing the same from the bar."
Paul hustles. It's like that kiss Loki leaves him with spurrs him on, and in a way it does. He hasn't felt close to someone like this in a long time. He hasn't felt loved like this in an even longer time. He left without a worried, worried about Loki's safety, not wanting to jeopardize everything Loki did to try to do to get out of an oppressive, terrible situation. Loki's forgiven him. Loki understands, just like Paul understands that Loki's a good guy, doing good things.
That's the thing about both of them: patience has been instilled in them since young.
He drops Loki off and immediately drives a few hours to grab the parts the shop refused to special order until later. Hauls them in the back of his trunk where he still swears he sees the imprint of Nino and Bernie's duffel bag filled with money where it stayed. Gets to work and refuses to take a lunch and works overtime, doing the same thing the next day until Loki's car is not only fixed, but tuned perfectly and modified. Paul uses the dirty money he got from the run he'd wound up nearly totalling Loki's care in anyway, figures it's even that way.
Loki deserves something nice. Fixing cars and driving are the only things Paul can really do. It seems like a no brainer.
--
Loki looks like shit, like he hasn't slept--probably he hasn't, Paul guesses, from how he's chewing on that toothpick and the slow, sloped way he's blinking--and Paul resists the urge to curl his hand against Loki's around that cup. He settles instead for looking at him longingly. Probably, people think he's staring. He's not not staring. It's hard not to, Paul's drawn to Loki in every way possible.
Pie's good, coffee's great--Paul's a sucker for lemon or lime meringue and any coffee that's not the autoshops is good coffee. Loki's here, too. That's what matters.
"Should be fun," he comments, mostly because winter isn't anything he's had to deal with too much in LA. Housewives fascinated him in a way they probably shouldn't, too: something about how devoted they are, a lot of times for people they barely actually know.
Paul, a smudge of grease on his face, overalls ditched only for the ride here, looks over at Loki. Loki's a busy guy. Loki's taking time to treat him.
"You got 10 more minutes?" He asks, voice soft, brows lifting.
There was never any mistaking where Paul's attention was and Loki reveled in it with just as much ease as he ever had; a lifetime of being an anchor for the driver, and fully at the ready to defend whatever Paul wanted to do with a full throated protective passion. Who cares what people think, even in this small town. They were friends, having coffee. Plenty of people had coffee.
Plenty of people would do terrible things for the people they loved.
Paul looked perfect in his smudges, smelling of oil and car and sweat and work. Good to the point of distraction. Loki tried to keep his face serious, or at least generally blank, but he couldn't quite hide the soft tilt of a smile that played at the corners of his lips anyway. Wednesday wasn't so far away.
"Yeah, course I do. What's up?" He shifts with his attention, leaning over his cup a little more.
There's a slow, soft curl of Paul's lips as soon as the words 'course I do' fall from Loki's lips, unable to help himself. He's excited. It doesn't show in a giddy way, no, but he blinks and he smiles and he stares at Loki like he's the only one in the world, because he is.
"I wanna show you something." It's an offer despite the tone, even if he knows Loki doesn't mind because he's already getting up and moving to his car, coffee in hand, pie long since gone. The smile is gone but it's still around his eyes, and he reaches out to open the door for Loki on his way to the driver's seat.
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Paul has a difficult time sleeping, sure. He pulls all nighters frequently, especially if he's a driver for someone. But Loki, he's got reasons. He's haunted. He's a good guy in every sense now. Not a cop, but a detective, and Paul desperately wants the other to tell him everything. The good parts, the bad parts, why he's crazy enough to get into the field even though Paul already has a few inklings.
Loki will. Maybe Paul will prod him. The blonde nods. ]
Okay.
[ loki's not like other people. Paul tends to talk more in the other's presence. He reaches up to gently run fingers along that long scar on Loki's head softly as he rises. ]
Stay. I want you to stay.
[ forever. Until however long he can. Until Paul needs to leave town because of Bernie. Paul's voice is soft but he means every word, and he's moving towards the small closet to grab fresh towels, fighting the urge not to grin, but he's grinning anyway, childlike and earnest. Happy. Loki's going to stay with him. They're going to curl up together. The thought of one of them taking the couch simply doesnt register to him, not with how they grew up.
Maybe they can both have a good thing. Maybe they deserve it. ]
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I hope that your shower can handle having two asses in there. Even if we gotta press a little to fit.
[There was no question in Loki's mind that they would share the same bed. Of course they would, like they were seven and nine again, taking refugee in the only place that they were allowed some fraction of peace. Loki points at a half open door, already walking towards it as he asks-]
Bathroom?
[Either way, Loki was peeling off his shirt again, readying it for throwing right into the floor.]
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Where he lives has never felt like home, but with Loki in the room it's more than just a place to sleep.
They shower, and Paul no longer minds that Loki can see his shoulder wound or the mostly healed stomach injury. Loki has far more damage--that cut on Loki's head, the angle of it, how horrifyingly beautiful it is when paired with the red in his eye that has yet to clear--and the water is too warm, the company too great. Paul keeps the strict cleanliness and discipline of the boys home they grew up embedded in him save for treating himself to a long, hot shower whenever he can. It's the one thing he allows himself and he appreciates it all the more when he gets to share it with the one person who actually understands him. They shower and Paul resists the urge to kiss the other when they're out, instead handing him a towel.
Paul doesn't have much but they're each other's size now, so once they're out the blonde is already tossing a pair of clean sweatpants at Loki's head without giving him a heads up, that boyish smile unable to leave his face.
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He smiles crookedly as he takes the towel and starts drying off, eyes trained on Paul's shoulders as he moves and Loki follows like a shadow, feeling more like they were 15 again than anything else. That perfect golden hour of time they'd had before everything went back to shit. He laughs as the sweatpants hit him and catches them, leaving his towel draped over his shoulder.
The sweatpants are tugged on and the towel tossed back into the bathroom with a promise- "I'll clean up once I'm done sleeping-" with the intent behind it being 'don't you go doing it instead'. Loki moves towards the bed, happy to leave his shirt off and get up under the thin blanket that passed for cover over the cheap sheets.
"I hope you don't still snore like you used to." Lies; Loki had always snored heavier, being the heavier sleeper, but even after so many years, he would never admit to it.
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"You think I snore?" He asks, playful tone lacking his usual quietness. His retort is lightning quick: he's reaching out to pull Loki into him, pulling the other into a bear hug embrace whether he likes it or not and refusing to let go.
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I missed you was written all over his face, mirrored with a stupid smile of his own. A beat passed and then two before Loki was bending down and kissing Paul again for the sheer sake of feeling him against his lips. It broke and that smile was back, soft but wide and elated.
"I do think you snore. Just keep it down otherwise I'm gonna spend whatever times left in that 4 hours I promised keeping an eye on you." That sounded better than 'staring lovingly and marveling at how you're here'.
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How quickly the fall into a pattern again, how swift they go right back to how it was. Paul feels giddy. There's no thoughts of Nino's guys, no paranoid urge to double check the tape under the door they've already destroyed. Just Loki.
Just Loki and that slow, soft way they kiss, the kind that has Paul aching for more. He runs a hand through Loki's hair as he talks, mesmerized by the buzzcut, the feel, and then chances a soft kiss on Loki's cheek.
"You're gonna sleep," he assures, soft and quiet voice sounding more like a command, "I'm gonna be here."
'You can rest properly,' is more what he wants to say. 'I can protect you.'
He settles for another soft hug, detangling himself only to reach over and turn off the light.
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"You fuckin' better," Loki rumbles with a sigh. The funny thing about it was that as soon as the words were out, as soon as he'd exhaled, Detective Loki was actually falling asleep. He'd been awake for more than 24 hours at this point and the much needed fucking and the hot shower was working against him staying awake in the warm and exceptionally secure embrace of his soulmate. Paul had always kept him safe, from bullies, from abuse, from his childhood nightmares that had only morphed and mutated in his adulthood. Spurred to the darker pits of humanity's depravity, his nightmares were part of the reason he slept like shit when he did sleep. Loki's brain was rarely ever quiet or still.
But the scent and feeling of Paul around him again, under all the shampoo and soap, Loki's brain finally settled and sent the man into a deep sleep. Normally reliant on his reliable internal clock, Loki's clock was set to snooze and instead of four, it was more like six.
When he finally did wake, it was with a deep breath and a questioning squeeze of his limbs to make sure Paul was still there like his everything expected.
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This is real. This isn't something he's dreamed--and he has every so often, a recurring one thats just him and Loki--and Paul thinks about how fucking lucky he is that not only do dreams come true, but Loki seems to reciprocate his feelings if those legs entangled and entwined in his is anything to go by.
Paul may have snored, but when he wakes he can't fall asleep. Not when he's looking at years he's lost, Loki's lashes long and delicate cupids bow soft in his peaceful slumber. There's something beautiful about how something so etched in the dedication of others and forged in acrid morality can look so cherubic.
Paul kisses Loki's forehead and whispers a passage he still knows from all of those times he'd memorized the Bible just to impress Loki when they were young.
"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love."
When Loki does wake, Paul's still up but hasn't detangled himself. His arm is numb, but it's the one that's been shot. He can't feel it anyway.
"Morning." He owes Loki a hello, sleepy or not.
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This morning was different - a wash of relief out swelled the fear and loneliness that sat at the ready in Loki's chest and when he shifts his head back a fraction so he can look up in Paul's face, a sleepy smile slowly curls across his features. You're still here.
"Morning," he rumbles roughly, taking a deep breath as he starts to stretch, groaning softly before curling back into Paul, pressing a kiss to his chest. He could stay here for another hour at least; he hadn't slept so well in -
The relaxed air about him stiffened with a breath as he realized that there's no way it's been only four hours and he pulls his head back, eyes wide. "Oh shit. Did we oversleep?"
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Loki's warm against him. Paul thinks maybe this is how he can combat that constant drizzle and cold mists of Washington: have his childhood friend curl up with him. Paul doesn't seem nearly as worried about what time it is.
"Did you dream?"
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But it was easy to take Paul's lead.
"Only a couple. Surprisingly decent ones." They all had Paul here. "Not sure that I'm not still dreaming right now, if I'm being honest." Were they sure this wasn't a dream? Loki's fingers start brushing up and down Paul's back like a reassurance to himself that it wasn't. Were they going to be allowed to do this again?
"You get any good rest?"
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He likes this better than the nights in the dormitories. The mattress is about the same size, and they're older (and Loki's just as tall as he is) and scrunched in a little more, but there's no threat of anyone finding them and if he's being honest, Paul thinks he's different now in the sense that he realized what he's missed.
Maybe some good came out of showing his true self to Irene, if only for this. It's the best sleep he's had in a while, the most calm and centered he's felt in ages. He doesn't feel lonely with Loki around. He also doesn't want to get up, or to break the spell in any way. He decides not to, just for now.
"I could take you for Mexican this week," he says quietly. An open invitation. They'd mentioned it briefly, how they'd have to drive ages out of town, but Paul doesn't care. Driving is what he does.
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One night and Paul was already making him soft. Then again, Paul got a good night sleep. Maybe that was worth the soft.
"Wednesday night," came the muttered reply. "We can go Wednesday night."
That was only 3 nights away. They could manage that right? Loki would bust his ass if he had to; anything to make sure he was free for a date night..
"Think my car will be done by then? Because until then, either you're driving me around or I'm hoofing it."
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He can do it. He can try for Loki. Loki deserves nice things. Loki's a good guy, a good person, and Paul knows for a fact the other man won't take time off unless he's being gently strong armed. Why not a date?
"I wanna drive you around," he confesses, and it feels like he's proclaiming his love. He means it, calloused fingers finding their way onto Loki's shoulder, tracing tattoos he hasn't even begun to examine. He's already making plans to drive a few hours to pick up the parts he needs today. He can take the time off. He's a hard worker.
His alarm to get up and go to work interrupts that thought, oldies radio station blasting Tina Turner. Paul tenses only because he hadn't expected it, but his free hand moves to slam down the snooze button, a little more heavy than it needs to be as Paul resents it for the meaning behind it. They have to get up. Paul has to work. Loki has to save the day. Paul sighs.
"You want some shitty coffee for the road?" He's never been able to make it properly, something Loki commented on in the garage earlier. He doesn't care.
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Loki hums a half second before the alarm goes off and the tension is back in his shoulders as he sharply inhales through his nose. God he hated loud sharp noises when he wasn't working.
"Yeah," he says, letting the breath out and pulling back again to put Paul's face into focus. "Shitty coffee would be great."
Fuck. All he wanted to do was grab Paul's stupid beautiful face and kiss him until the day vanished away under indulgences, but he'd indulged too much already. He had work to do, those kids were counting on him.
"But I gotta piss first, then I'll be out."
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The blond nods, fully planning on driving up to some fast food joint for breakfast on their way to wherever Loki needs to go as he detangles himself. Paul can barely cook eggs and has nothing in the fridge, but he does have coffee.
The sound of the radio starts immediately as he walks out of the room, an 80s hits one that Paul listens to the morning traffic on. The pot of coffee is easy enough, and he reaches for the small box of toothpicks to put in his mouth, forcing himself not to look at the bedroom. There's a part of him that's terrified that Loki won't actually walk out of there, that maybe this is a dream.
If it is, it's a really, really good one.
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He had to go or he was never going to leave.
After a stop in the bathroom, a finger rub of toothpaste over and around his teeth before a quick and aggressive rinse, Loki pads back out of the bedroom fully dressed and can't stop the pull of a smile at the sight of Paul, like he wasn't a fuckin' angel. The only thing Loki was missing was his shoes and that was his next objective.
"I hung our towels up. Didn't know where you put dirty stuff, but they won't be hard to find when you get around to that... You found a place to do laundry yet?" Shoes on and tied, Loki stands up, ready for that coffee now.
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Paul's still in just his pyjamas, but a cup of warm coffee in a plain white diner mug is gently pressed into Loki's hands. Paul turns to grab at Loki's shoes and preemptively hands them over too, gaze soft.
'Our towels.' He likes that. As he moves to the bedroom to get dressed he finds himself smiling, and after a few swift beats he's back out, this time with his usual jeans and shirt combo, garage coveralls a contrast to Loki's professional style. He only talks after he's grabbed some coffee himself.
"It suits you," he says simply, gaze raking over Loki's outfit. There's that sense of pride again.
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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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"Mm-hmmm," he affirms, and that boyish smile is back. "Yeah."
He's got to get to work. Loki probably does, too. Paul lingers a little longer. The urge to smooth his hands over Loki's broad shoulders almost wins out, but he settles on crossing his arms.
"Can I visit you tomorrow?"
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Loki downs his cup and sets it down, blue eyes coming back to Paul's. He didn't mind how close Paul was at all and impulse wins in the moment. He grabs Paul's face with both hands and kisses him soundly, like if he was never going to see Paul again, he was going to take this. It ends just as suddenly as it began and there wasn't a shred of shame or doubt in his eyes as his hands come down.
"You ready to go?"
--
Tomorrow was only a day away and while Loki had busted his ass, it was clear by the outfit change that he'd at least seen his home for a minimum of twenty minutes. It was also clear that he hadn't gotten any real sleep, the toothpick in his mouth rolling as he toys with it, both amped up on caffeine and relentlessly tired in a way that balanced itself out. His wounds still ached, forehead hurting any time he was too expressive with his eyebrows.
He'd invited Paul out for cop classic - Coffee and pie - and it was within walking distance from the station, good enough for a well deserved break before the sting that was planned. Loki had ordered an apple crumble slice and whatever on the menu Paul wanted to go with their coffee, and he was holding his cup like it could really do something about the cold that had settled into his bones.
"Give it another week and your shop is gonna be busy as hell. Housewives racing from the Food Lion hitting black ice or their husbands doing the same from the bar."
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That's the thing about both of them: patience has been instilled in them since young.
He drops Loki off and immediately drives a few hours to grab the parts the shop refused to special order until later. Hauls them in the back of his trunk where he still swears he sees the imprint of Nino and Bernie's duffel bag filled with money where it stayed. Gets to work and refuses to take a lunch and works overtime, doing the same thing the next day until Loki's car is not only fixed, but tuned perfectly and modified. Paul uses the dirty money he got from the run he'd wound up nearly totalling Loki's care in anyway, figures it's even that way.
Loki deserves something nice. Fixing cars and driving are the only things Paul can really do. It seems like a no brainer.
--
Loki looks like shit, like he hasn't slept--probably he hasn't, Paul guesses, from how he's chewing on that toothpick and the slow, sloped way he's blinking--and Paul resists the urge to curl his hand against Loki's around that cup. He settles instead for looking at him longingly. Probably, people think he's staring. He's not not staring. It's hard not to, Paul's drawn to Loki in every way possible.
Pie's good, coffee's great--Paul's a sucker for lemon or lime meringue and any coffee that's not the autoshops is good coffee. Loki's here, too. That's what matters.
"Should be fun," he comments, mostly because winter isn't anything he's had to deal with too much in LA. Housewives fascinated him in a way they probably shouldn't, too: something about how devoted they are, a lot of times for people they barely actually know.
Paul, a smudge of grease on his face, overalls ditched only for the ride here, looks over at Loki. Loki's a busy guy. Loki's taking time to treat him.
"You got 10 more minutes?" He asks, voice soft, brows lifting.
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Plenty of people would do terrible things for the people they loved.
Paul looked perfect in his smudges, smelling of oil and car and sweat and work. Good to the point of distraction. Loki tried to keep his face serious, or at least generally blank, but he couldn't quite hide the soft tilt of a smile that played at the corners of his lips anyway. Wednesday wasn't so far away.
"Yeah, course I do. What's up?" He shifts with his attention, leaning over his cup a little more.
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"I wanna show you something." It's an offer despite the tone, even if he knows Loki doesn't mind because he's already getting up and moving to his car, coffee in hand, pie long since gone. The smile is gone but it's still around his eyes, and he reaches out to open the door for Loki on his way to the driver's seat.
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