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.
It was good they'd gotten to go cups and Lok drops a handful of crumpled bills on the table from the jacket pocket as he follows Paul towards the door and out. There was no question in it - 'I wanna show you something' wasn't likely to get refused, like two little boys playing out in the woods. Loki flicks a smile at Paul as he passes him and heads towards the passenger side.
"You behind the wheel and ten minutes? Hell we could probably get out of state."
He shouldn't entertain the idea of running away with Paul. That didn't stop some rebellious part of his brain from doing it anyway.
Paul's face pulls into brief but bright grin, cheeks ruddy like a schoolboy as they climb into the Chevelle Malibu he'd eyed since they were kids. He moves with purpose, moving his body only when nessecary, always unusually still but as he passes Loki he chances a very small touch: his fingers ghost along the small of Loki's back trailing softly as he moves, there and gone in an instant.
Paul still can't believe Loki's real.
They drive, and Paul stays fairly quiet as they finally pull into his workplace, a familiar car elevated on the lift. Paul waits to get out, looking at Loki.
"You shouldn't have wait." Not for his car. Not with what Loki does, how he chases the bad guys. How he's good. Paul loves driving Loki around more than anything, but acts of service has always been his love language. Getting Loki's car sorted out in a matter of 48 hours was almost as satisfying as his alternative job.
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?"
Loki takes Paul out for coffee and donuts, and Paul thinks it's the best thing in the world. Now he's getting to show his hard work to Loki, and he thinks as he slides out that maybe this is the best thing in the world, too. That lightness that hardly ever touches him, magnified because of Loki's presence.
'I did this for you, because I know it would make you smile.' But that seems too corny, too much like he's showing off. He doesn't want to show off, he just wants Loki to be happy.
"I took care of it," he answers nebulously. He can't lie to Loki like he wants to but he's too humble to admit he drove like hell to pick them up himself and spent most of the night assembling everything. He points, making his way further into the little garage, knowing Loki will follow him.
Of course Loki follows him, his smile breaking wider at Paul's 'I took care of it'. It would be ominous, if they weren't talking about his car, because Paul was always thorough. Efficient in a way that would be scary if Loki didn't already trust him so much.
"What can I say, we both know takin' care of cars were never my thing." It was Paul's and part of the respect they had for each other growing up was not elbowing in on the Things that they both liked. Accepting each other what they were, what they wanted, what brought them that small fraction of peace that they both so deeply needed.
"So I'm guessing this means that it hasn't run as well as it's going to since it came off the lot?" He couldn't say that he was proud, but he was. Paul was good. Paul had busted his ass for this. Two days. For him. His cheeks were going to hurt by the time they parted again.
"No bill," Paul says that automatically, because he means it. He's the one that wrecked his car anyway, even if they can't say it out loud. This isn't what he owes Loki, but it's what he wants to do.
Let Loki be the good guy. He knows how, he's smarter then Paul ever was and he's got a decent head on his shoulders. Anything Paul can do to help.
Shit.
He's really got it bad for Loki. Paul leans against Loki's car, pleased. He takes a small breath.
Loki clucks under his breath with a fraction pull back of his head, one hand spreading wide. C'mon.
"We can't do that to Earl's bottom line. Plus then he'll find out you're tryin' to trade out under the table here. Let me pay the quote he gave me." He doesn't realize that his smile is breaking out towards a grin.
"You bein' here makes things nice. Let's not fuck that up by fuckin' up the paperwork at your job, huh?"
God. All he wants to do is get closer, lean in, invade Paul's space and absorb all those little smiles that Paul had for him. All those kisses waiting just there for him to collect. Maybe it was better that the car was between them. Better that he had to get back to work, lest he ask Paul to take the afternoon off to push him around and bend him over something.
"You know that if you don't, I'll just be back here later talkin' to Earl myself."
Loki's stubborn as hell. Paul's stubborn, too, but he's not sure if he's going to win this one. Loki's got morals. Loki's a good person. He decides to give in, but only halfway, and only because Loki looks at him like that with a car between them, and it's Paul's kryptonite. Loki's never looked so good, and Paul's caught in the way his adam's apple bobs, those bright blue eyes hidden behind consistently furrowed brow.
The quote is the quote, anyway. Paul's gone above and beyond and cashed in a portion of the got from the heist anyway. Maybe someone else would get mad about dirty money--or maybe Loki doesn't know. Paul doesn't care. Loki's letting him do this.
"Bring it in for winter tires," he says finally, and wanders off to grab said paperwork. Eyes are on Loki, if only because Paul's smiled and said more than he ever has to him alone.
Victory, or close enough, and Loki just grins as he walks around to the other side of the car to lean and wait for Paul to get back with the keys and the bill, ignoring the stares. If he paid it attention, they'd only feed it. Friends, they were friends, obviously. Friends and nothing (everything) more.
He fishes out his checkbook - Earl hadn't quite gotten up to cards yet it seemed and with the fees and the cost of equipment, Loki could understand why - and fiddles with it until Paul gets back. Once he's got the clipboard in hand, he can pour over the quick paperwork, tear the check off and clip it under the fastener.
"We still on for tomorrow?" The clipboard is held out in trade for the keys. Just business, ma'am.
Just business. Paul doesn't seem to think anything about anyone eyeing the situation. The novelty of him talking to someone so much will wear off once Loki comes around again. If he does. Paul hopes more than anything that's the case.
"Tomorrow. If you can make it." The last thing he wants to do is get in the way of how important Loki's job is as a LEO. The thing he does want to do is kiss him senseless. Loki looks good like this, in a garage. Probably, that's him.
"After, we can go for a drive." Just the two of them. No one else. He drops his voice. "Sneak a case of beer into the woods like we used to."
"I'll make it. Who could pass that up?" Come hell or high water. The only thing that would stop him is if they had a major break in the case and even that shouldn't last more than twelve to fourteen hours - worst case scenario, they have to reschedule and Loki spends that time quietly worried that they've missed their shot and that Paul will vanish again in the dead of night. Either way, he wasn't going to elaborate more to fill the space between them that they couldn't fill with themselves, and spins his keys around his finger right into his palm.
"Make sure you tell Earl how pleased I am with how quick this went. Probably not paying you near enough." He flashes Paul a smile and heads for the other side of his car. The goodbyes weren't going to be what either of them wanted, and they just had to wait until tomorrow, right?
Except for the fact that Loki moves through the rest of his day with Paul invading any spare brain space that he might have, the faint crinkle around Paul's eyes when he smiles is just as haunting as the smile itself. He tries to push it all away and mostly manages until the evening - it was always harder in the evening if he wasn't on a beat, and after battling with his paperwork and his evidence, the last thing he wanted to do was go home to his empty and barren apartment. It's where he should be going. It's where he's supposed to be going.
Instead, Loki finds himself parked outside Paul's apartment at nearly 2 am, eyeballing the one window that looked into the apartment. He should go home. Paul is probably.. well not probably sleeping and that was as far as his thought process got before he was pulling out his phone and tapping out a message.
Paul's car is there, silver dim under the sulfate streetlights. Paul's there, too, in the dim light of his small but functional apartment, a single ring light illuminating his work, hands covered in grease as he picks at a smaller car part with a delicate touch. His phone isn't anywhere near him, but he hears the rumble of the vibration on the coffee table. It's his phone, not a burner.
When he stands up he crosses the window, strong profile against the lazy neon shadows. Examining his phone takes only a few seconds before he looks up and over at the window, turning to look down.
Loki.
Loki came for him. Loki doesn't want to wait to see him, no one else, and there's a thrill that shoots up in the pit of his stomach and expands to the back of his neck. He's still at the window, texting back as quickly as he can so he can look at Loki from above. Romeo and goddamn Juliet.
Loki watches Paul's frame behind the windowpane, watches his bend for the phone and even though he knew it was coming, Paul's look out the window that easily found Loki and his car made Loki's heart race. This wasn't like the other times, this wasn't getting casually getting coffee after dinner, this wasn't getting rescued from his late night for shit coffee they barely touched. This was him going after Paul, him giving in to himself and the soul deep desire for the scrap of happiness he'd had the nights before.
There was a worry that maybe he was being a little overconfident in assuming that Paul felt the same way, but all those concerns were bootheeled back into the ground by the list of things that Paul has done since finding him again. It wasn't perfect, nothing was, but it was something and for the moments they could steal, it was theirs and theirs alone.
He glances at his phone long enough to get the two words before he was killing the car engine and getting out. He couldn't stop himself from looking back up at Paul, the dramatics of the angle and their eye contact not missed on him.
Loki doesn't bother knocking when he comes in, though he does come in gently with a sweep of his eyes as the door is returned to it's jam. It was 2 AM, after all, and he respected the fact that people were asleep. They didn't need the attention either. But closed and locked, Loki turns his full attention to the Driver, already stepping forward towards him.
Paul's heart is racing as he hears the other's footsteps, and he's reminded how long it's been since he hasn't dreaded a gait like that. This is different. This is Loki, and this isn't some social dance-around. This is his friend--this is his fucking soulmate, whether they like it or not--seeking him out purposefully.
Paul thinks that this is what could actually make him happy. Not Irene. It had never been Irene, Irene had just been what he thought he wanted, something he knew he could never obtain. He doesn't have to 'obtain' Loki, though. Loki is his. He's Loki's. They're all consuming.
That lock clicks in a way that Paul always finds satisfying, but not as satisfying as Loki moving toward him with intent. The driver meets him halfway and lifts one grease stained hand to the side of his compass' face to pull him closer into a desperate, wanting kiss, the other hand shifting to the small of Loki's back to press in close, ruining one of those beautifully starched white shirts. Paul doesn't care. He thinks Loki doesn't, either, tongue pushing past the other's teeth in a fit of passion, tasting him completely.
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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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"You behind the wheel and ten minutes? Hell we could probably get out of state."
He shouldn't entertain the idea of running away with Paul. That didn't stop some rebellious part of his brain from doing it anyway.
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Paul still can't believe Loki's real.
They drive, and Paul stays fairly quiet as they finally pull into his workplace, a familiar car elevated on the lift. Paul waits to get out, looking at Loki.
"You shouldn't have wait." Not for his car. Not with what Loki does, how he chases the bad guys. How he's good. Paul loves driving Loki around more than anything, but acts of service has always been his love language. Getting Loki's car sorted out in a matter of 48 hours was almost as satisfying as his alternative job.
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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?"
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'I did this for you, because I know it would make you smile.' But that seems too corny, too much like he's showing off. He doesn't want to show off, he just wants Loki to be happy.
"I took care of it," he answers nebulously. He can't lie to Loki like he wants to but he's too humble to admit he drove like hell to pick them up himself and spent most of the night assembling everything. He points, making his way further into the little garage, knowing Loki will follow him.
"You needed your oil changed, too."
This is how Paul says he loves Loki.
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"What can I say, we both know takin' care of cars were never my thing." It was Paul's and part of the respect they had for each other growing up was not elbowing in on the Things that they both liked. Accepting each other what they were, what they wanted, what brought them that small fraction of peace that they both so deeply needed.
"So I'm guessing this means that it hasn't run as well as it's going to since it came off the lot?" He couldn't say that he was proud, but he was. Paul was good. Paul had busted his ass for this. Two days. For him. His cheeks were going to hurt by the time they parted again.
"Got the bill handy?"
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Let Loki be the good guy. He knows how, he's smarter then Paul ever was and he's got a decent head on his shoulders. Anything Paul can do to help.
Shit.
He's really got it bad for Loki. Paul leans against Loki's car, pleased. He takes a small breath.
"I wanna make things nice for you."
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"We can't do that to Earl's bottom line. Plus then he'll find out you're tryin' to trade out under the table here. Let me pay the quote he gave me." He doesn't realize that his smile is breaking out towards a grin.
"You bein' here makes things nice. Let's not fuck that up by fuckin' up the paperwork at your job, huh?"
God. All he wants to do is get closer, lean in, invade Paul's space and absorb all those little smiles that Paul had for him. All those kisses waiting just there for him to collect. Maybe it was better that the car was between them. Better that he had to get back to work, lest he ask Paul to take the afternoon off to push him around and bend him over something.
"You know that if you don't, I'll just be back here later talkin' to Earl myself."
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The quote is the quote, anyway. Paul's gone above and beyond and cashed in a portion of the got from the heist anyway. Maybe someone else would get mad about dirty money--or maybe Loki doesn't know. Paul doesn't care. Loki's letting him do this.
"Bring it in for winter tires," he says finally, and wanders off to grab said paperwork. Eyes are on Loki, if only because Paul's smiled and said more than he ever has to him alone.
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He fishes out his checkbook - Earl hadn't quite gotten up to cards yet it seemed and with the fees and the cost of equipment, Loki could understand why - and fiddles with it until Paul gets back. Once he's got the clipboard in hand, he can pour over the quick paperwork, tear the check off and clip it under the fastener.
"We still on for tomorrow?" The clipboard is held out in trade for the keys. Just business, ma'am.
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"Tomorrow. If you can make it." The last thing he wants to do is get in the way of how important Loki's job is as a LEO. The thing he does want to do is kiss him senseless. Loki looks good like this, in a garage. Probably, that's him.
"After, we can go for a drive." Just the two of them. No one else. He drops his voice. "Sneak a case of beer into the woods like we used to."
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"Make sure you tell Earl how pleased I am with how quick this went. Probably not paying you near enough." He flashes Paul a smile and heads for the other side of his car. The goodbyes weren't going to be what either of them wanted, and they just had to wait until tomorrow, right?
Except for the fact that Loki moves through the rest of his day with Paul invading any spare brain space that he might have, the faint crinkle around Paul's eyes when he smiles is just as haunting as the smile itself. He tries to push it all away and mostly manages until the evening - it was always harder in the evening if he wasn't on a beat, and after battling with his paperwork and his evidence, the last thing he wanted to do was go home to his empty and barren apartment. It's where he should be going. It's where he's supposed to be going.
Instead, Loki finds himself parked outside Paul's apartment at nearly 2 am, eyeballing the one window that looked into the apartment. He should go home. Paul is probably.. well not probably sleeping and that was as far as his thought process got before he was pulling out his phone and tapping out a message.
I don't want to wait for tomorrow to see you.
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When he stands up he crosses the window, strong profile against the lazy neon shadows. Examining his phone takes only a few seconds before he looks up and over at the window, turning to look down.
Loki.
Loki came for him. Loki doesn't want to wait to see him, no one else, and there's a thrill that shoots up in the pit of his stomach and expands to the back of his neck. He's still at the window, texting back as quickly as he can so he can look at Loki from above. Romeo and goddamn Juliet.
door's open
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There was a worry that maybe he was being a little overconfident in assuming that Paul felt the same way, but all those concerns were bootheeled back into the ground by the list of things that Paul has done since finding him again. It wasn't perfect, nothing was, but it was something and for the moments they could steal, it was theirs and theirs alone.
He glances at his phone long enough to get the two words before he was killing the car engine and getting out. He couldn't stop himself from looking back up at Paul, the dramatics of the angle and their eye contact not missed on him.
Loki doesn't bother knocking when he comes in, though he does come in gently with a sweep of his eyes as the door is returned to it's jam. It was 2 AM, after all, and he respected the fact that people were asleep. They didn't need the attention either. But closed and locked, Loki turns his full attention to the Driver, already stepping forward towards him.
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Paul thinks that this is what could actually make him happy. Not Irene. It had never been Irene, Irene had just been what he thought he wanted, something he knew he could never obtain. He doesn't have to 'obtain' Loki, though. Loki is his. He's Loki's. They're all consuming.
That lock clicks in a way that Paul always finds satisfying, but not as satisfying as Loki moving toward him with intent. The driver meets him halfway and lifts one grease stained hand to the side of his compass' face to pull him closer into a desperate, wanting kiss, the other hand shifting to the small of Loki's back to press in close, ruining one of those beautifully starched white shirts. Paul doesn't care. He thinks Loki doesn't, either, tongue pushing past the other's teeth in a fit of passion, tasting him completely.
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