Got shot, he says, casual. Paul's gaze swerves from the road to the mirror almost immediately, brows knitting a fraction of a second, a flash of something behind cool blue eyes. So Loki's been in trouble?
No. The car, the chase, it wasn't a case, Loki's a cop. Loki's been helping people out of it. Loki's gone above and beyond to the point of getting shot, it sounds like, and Paul keeps staring at him with laser focused concentration, navigating lazy traffic like this completely second nature to him.
He doesn't like it. He doesn't like that someone shot Loki. His grip on the wheel tightens before he forces himself to keep calm, moving one of his hands to shift gears and finally tearing his gaze away and back onto the road. Headwound. That's bad. Loki can't keep himself fucking safe because he's sticking his neck out for others again. Paul wonders when the last time the other slept properly. If he eats.
If he found his Irene.
It's the car compliment that gets him to smile, temporarily forgetting that wave of anger. Loki noticed, and Paul's face softens into another soft, shy boyish smile as he pulls into a parking lot.
"100 horsepower when I first got it. Got a 454 in it now," he says softly, proudly, still grinning. "V8. Tore most of it apart, wanted to build something better. Keep the frame, keep the feeling. Make her sing."
It's probably the most he's said unprompted, and that's exactly why he feels comfortable saying something else.
"I know." There's a lot in that small sentence. 'I know you're upset. I know I shouldn't have just left. I know I owe you an explanation.'
The sweep of his gaze is too slow to catch the worried passing furrow of Paul's forehead but still sharp enough to see Paul's shifting grip on the steering wheel. He still recognized the subtle tensions that Paul carried in the otherwise casual air about him. The slight shifts that showed discomfort and happiness, the ghosts of smiles and hint of tightening lips. The question was now, was he remembering right or was he just good at his job and on the far left of paranoid.
He barely eats. He hardly sleeps. He runs on coffee and raw determination, the latter of which was varied and deep in its real meanings. It applied to so many aspects of Loki's life. Surviving. Excelling. Doing something. There was no room for anything more. He didn't allow time for it. He supposes Paul is doing the same thing. Working. Working™, if last night was him.
But Paul smiles and it all matters a little less. It was such a good look. Such a rare one, even when they were kids, unless they were alone. Always brighter when they were talking about cars. Loki's lips lift a little, lost in wonder that this was all really happening. He didn't realize how much this could compromise him.
It wasn't until Paul utters those two little words that Loki's smile cools and simmers back down to the careful almost neutral look, the one that only left his eyes and eyebrows stormy and stony, respectively. There was so much he could say. So much he could get into. But more of him wanted to know what had happened to Paul over the years. Save the hard shit for never, since Paul would no doubt be leaving again. Even if he'd been here two months.
How had they not seen each other on the street?
The internal war didn't have a winner.
"You know what?"
He could guess. He could feel it in his stomach again. They had never much cared for leaving bullshit in the air between them but the heartbroken side of him needed to hear Paul say it. None of this three word statements - they were worth more than that. This wasn't a conversation they should have now and he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.
There's a strange sort of beauty in the fact that Loki's clearly still burning the candle at both ends, even if it's shifted to police work instead of what they used to do around their little slice of the city. Maybe he shouldn't think that Loki looks so good, not like this, not with that bone-deep twitch he only ever got when he was stressed and not with the way his jaw is set permanently forward, head on a swivel, but he does.
It's the familiarity, maybe, or the way he knows Loki's always been happiest sinking his teeth into something even if he's miserable while doing it. He sure as fuck doesn't like that Loki's put himself in that sort of sleepless position in the first place, of course, but Paul's not one to talk. Even without his second job he doesn't get much sleep, most of his night time spent cruising around due to insomnia. Maybe they're two peas in a pod still. Maybe they've been up at the same time, both of them in shitty diners, both of them wondering about the other.
Paul still thinks of Loki frequently. Enough that when those doors elevator door closed on what might have been with Irene, he knew he was going to go back to the Washington area even before he started physically driving, staring into the sunset with a dead body and a pile of cash in the lot next to him. He wanted to be near his only friend.
Of course Loki has to ask the follow-up question. He turns the engine off, pivots the conversation. He may not be good at small talk, but he can feel something in Loki. Something new, a kind of manic... something. He's suspicious.
"Your coffee order," He answers, and he manages to look dead-eyed and stoic as he says it. They both drink theirs completely black, and it's difficult to tell if Paul's actually joking.
He's sliding out of his car, unbothered by the fact that his henley's still marred with grease already despite the day just starting, craving the comfort of his jacket. He waits for Loki to get out to continue to talk.
"Eat something." It's a quiet demand as they head in. Loki looks pale, and Paul isn't sure if it's because of the lack of sleep or the fact that the skies are always downcast here. He misses LA, feels almost out of place with a proper tan.
The pivot wasn't unexpected and Loki didn't so much as blink at it's delivery. Getting a solid answer now was as likely as sprouting wings out of his ass, but he didn't regret asking. He had to try. Of course, Paul did in fact know his coffee order - that hadn't changed over the years, just like everything else about Loki, and the Detective was sure Paul was the same way. Black coffee. Easy, no dependencies on anything other than pure caffeine, and you could get it just about anywhere.
Loki slides out of the car with him, glancing back at her as he steps away - Paul really had done a great job and the pride he saw in his friends face when he was talking about it was well earned. Amazing how far that car body had come.
Eat something Paul says as Loki gets to his shoulder and he only grunts a soft note of acknowledgement. He wasn't really hungry, despite not having eaten anything in nearly 24 hours, but he would rather eat something with Paul and make the driver worry less than argue about it. He didn't want to spend what time this would be arguing.
A waitress greets them and gestures towards the open tables, waiting for them to take a seat before coming to ask what they wanted to drink.
"Two coffees, please, and two eggs with toast for the both of us," he says, shouldering off his jacket to drape over the back of his chair. If he was going to eat, so was Paul. Or at least, he would watch Paul consider eating with that stoic stare he's refined over the years.
Loki waits for the waitress to walk away before he says anything.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you up in this part of the country. Figured it'd be too cold." Everything was cold after LA's tepid temperatures that almost never dropped below 60 degrees. Paul looked warm and slightly out of place with his sunkissed skin, that was true, but it was more like getting ice cold lemonade on a hot day kind of good to see it.
Weather, location - it was boring, but it was safe. Easy places to start. Places that didn't lingeringly ache like an overused set of muscles that had forgotten how to work the way they used to.
Loki ordering for him gets a light, boyish raise of the eyebrows, pleased that old habits die hard. He's perfectly content with it, considering he's only shoved a tiny breakfast sandwich from the gas station down his gullet this morning. They're not huddled in the back booth of a Denny's at 2am and instead are in what looks like an artisenal cafe/restaurant, but things change. They've changed.
Paul can see it. Not just the growth spurt, the new-old tattoos: Loki's happy with what he's doing, on some level. It's in the way he carries himself. He'd seemed directionless before, small and willing to set himself on fire if it meant keeping others warm. At least now he can channel that in his profession.
Loki's face only twitches like it had earlier if he really, really cares. Paul finds himself glancing down for a hint of a wedding ring and finds a tiny cross tattoo nestled between Loki's thumb and forefinger instead. He wants to touch it. Touch Loki, too. A touch on the shoulder to see if he carries all of his tension there still. A hand over that undercut to feel the buzzed sides.
"LA feels like home," he confesses, and he's surprised at how hurt he suddenly feels about that fact despite the use of the present tense. The coffee arrives and Paul finally moves, reaching over to grab his cup.
With everything that hadn't changed, Loki felt comfortable in slipping into the role he had when they were younger, filling in the gaps of social conversations and interactions, speaking for Paul so Paul didn't have to unless he wanted to. It avoided questions and problems from all sorts of different kind of people in different situations. It also kept the attention on him so that if something did decide to go down Loki would take the brunt of it. Not that Paul couldn't handle himself now or then but Loki was protective. Paul could be devastatingly violent with a causal air that terrified most people, and he was the only one that really knew some of the hows and whys behind that ability.
It didn't matter that he was two years younger than Paul, or that he had always been the runt out of the pair of them, Loki was more rabid and willing to cross the scrapyard in a way that left the other side more whole and less hospitalized. He was a loud mid-range dog with a heavyweight bite. Paul was a Cane Corso. Loki could handle it, and his self control.
If LA felt like home (it was, even for Loki, even now he still felt like a fish out of water, no matter how well he'd integrated into the department here, this wasn't the first place he'd landed when he left town himself), why wasn't Paul there? What had happened to make him leave? There wasn't a single thought about if it was 'his business' anymore - Paul was always going to be his business. Which is why he can't help but worry.
"So am I. It's been a long time since I've bounced a curb like that." He collects his own cup and takes a drink, setting it down on the table and letting it warm his hand, hopeful that it will distract the impulse to shift his feet so he was touching Paul. They were in public, privacy was dangerous, but something deep in him wanted it anyway.
"No," Paul says automatically. His answers are coming a bit faster now as he falls into old habits, now that there's safety in this little corner. His movements are still crisp and robotic--they always have been, always will be--and he leans his body towards Loki by placing both if his hands on the table, elbows carefully off the counter. He'd get beaten for that sometimes, when his parents or Father Christopher were in a mood.
"I'll pick up the parts today," he offers, and speaking is a little freer and easier, too. All it took was the simple act of Loki ordering for him and he feels protected.
Strange, how he hasn't felt like that in such a long time. He briefly considers telling Loki he didn't do too bad chasing him before keeping that part quiet, although the thought is there.
"Being a cop suits you," he says quietly, still thinking about the car chase. His words are earnest enough he can't quite look Loki in the eye, staring at his coffee cup as a tiny smile threatens to break out.
He's proud of Loki. Really, truly proud. He's envious, jealous, distrustful, hateful about the whole thing, about Loki's path, but the strangest, strongest emotion is how proud he is of the other.
Loki found a way to be a good shark. Found a way to get out.
Paul's ease helps alleviate some of his own, though he can still feel the stress of the night, the stress of surprise in finding out Paul was an arms length away for so long cording through his back and shoulders. He smiles a little, one side of his lips curling up as the other side softened.
"That mean I can ask for a discount?" No storage fees would be nice. He didn't expect anything though and wouldn't be offended in the slightest if Paul told him to go fuck himself. But then Paul drops his little nug of knowledge and Loki can't help but flash a grin and dropped his free hand on the table. "I knew it."
He hadn't known it but everything about it all only pointed to Paul, and he just hadn't dared hope. But he was still counting it as being right. He tils his head a fraction to the side and studies more of Paul's face at the following comment, hungry for every facet of that almost smile and the sunshine that would break out if Paul only let it. Hungry for Paul to approve of him, hungry for Paul to just look at him.
The waitress comes back again, this time carrying plates and Loki leaned back to give her room, setting aside his coffee as he did. She asks if they need anything else and Loki breaks his stare long enough to glance up at her with a "Yes, thank you."
It's better than the shit I used to be into, he thinks to himself. Loki picks up his fork, shirtcuffs already rolled up from the day before where he hadn't bothered to roll them back down yet. The script up his forearm was new - they didn't used to reach that far, and he stabs into a bite of eggs.
"It keeps me outta trouble. I'd ask if your job is keeping you out of trouble, but we both know the answer to that question. Are you at least makin' it worth your while?"
Paul isn't going to ask for shit. If anything, he's going to help Loki no matter what, every look reminding him of the kid who had practically leapt onto the priest who knocked Paul's two front teeth, full of wild rage and the instinctive need to watch out for people that couldn't protect themselves. That was the day Paul decided that no matter what, Paul would do whatever Loki said. Help him however he could. Loki's the reason he doesn't smoke, doesn't drink. Doesn't carry a gun, even if he knows how to use one.
He's a bit surprised at the I knew it remark, though he can't say anything because the waitress comes back with food. Paul curls his arm into himself, subconsciously leaning to block his plate from the rest of the world. Another habit that's long been instilled in him. He takes a piece of toast without really thinking, too enamoured by that tattoo to really catch himself dipping it into the yolk, but the moment is fleeting.
Theyre hitting the things shouldnt talk about. He keeps the triangle on the plate, looking at Loki immediately, voice perfectly calm, perfectly still.
"My job is at the garage you dropped your car off today, do you understand me?"
The tone shift was oh so subtle but unmistakable. The line drawn that Loki knew better than to step over without the space and time to have that fight. It sent a primal kind of thrill through him, straight to his dick for reasons that had nothing to do with self-preservation, and the admonishment was taken with no change in his otherwise neutral expression. He knew this dance, these steps. The familiar crackle of energy in the room around them. He didn't like it, but he could work in it and fight in it and he wasn't close to the type to back down.
Did Paul have any idea what the people he was driving around last night were into? What he was validating and enabling for - for what? For money? Not for fame; he would have had that in the stunt circles of LA. Gotten an award or something. Something.
The type to not back down didn't always mean open opposition. He picks his battles, yes, but Loki didn't let things go that was stuck in his craw. Another internal war, a fleeting wish that he'd gone straight to work with the whiplash guilt of possibly depriving himself of sitting across from his- He wouldn't think about what they were right now. He couldn't.
It's doing a shit job at it's purpose- He takes that stabbed bite of his eggs, deferring with a look down and another rapid pinch of his face and pops it in his mouth. He and Paul hadn't fought often - that wasn't to say they didn't fight. Fists had been swung, shit had been said. Paul had his moments, Loki too, and they gave as good as they got. Even if it almost visibly destroyed them during it.
Loki acquiesces, though he's clearly not happy about it, but Paul takes his time. He watches the other, barely blinking and staring at him for a few good, long moments.
Good. They do have an understanding. Loki doesn’t have to like it, but it's there.
Paul doesn't mind that the other gets the last word in. He lets it roll off of Loki's tongue and finds himself savoring it, even if the subject matter isn't the best.
They'll argue about it later. Hopefully there's a later. Paul waits a few more minutes before he resumes eating.
He felt the weight of Paul's eyes on him and had seen enough shit with him that he knew better than to raise his eyes without restirring embers. It was semantics anyway. Instead, he pushes his eggs around and takes his time in finding his next bite.
"You say that like I'm not fucking adorable no matter what height I'm at. You look exactly the same." A little more refined as he had grown into his features, but exactly the same. Loki's tone was back to a casual cadence, fractionally quieter then before.
"Only things that's changed is the car. How long did it take you to get her restored?"
Paul shakes his head at the remark, the barest hint of a smile on his face. They're running into old jokes. Good jokes. Jokes is a stretch for what they do, but it comes close.
"Always working on it," he confesses, and he wouldn't want it any other way. He likes that Loki's asking. He likes Loki.
Fuck, he missed this. He finally goes back to his eggs.
Everything's okay again once Paul goes back to his eggs. There was a deep fear in Loki that he'd fuck something up and make Paul leave again; the eggs were a signal he would stick around for a few more minutes at least.
God, Loki had missed him so much.
"I got my job. Keeps me busy." That and he had less than no interest. That wasn't to say he didn't find girls attractive, he just- wasn't normal. He knew he was weird, hyper obsessive, with some Ideas marked upon his body to show his dedication, his belief, his temper. But he was still fundamentally broken. Maybe he should have elaborated and fleshed out specifically what he did in his job, but it hit too close to home and heart.
"You?" He looks back up with the question and takes a bite of his toast.
Odd. Girls always tended to like Loki. Or maybe Paul was just a little more observant in that regard, watching the way good ol' god fearing girls would look at the Other ones, the Bad Kids from the boys home across the way. It's Loki's brow, probably. Or the curve of his distinct nose, or that strong chin. The hair that always--even now--threatens to escape from being slicked back at any moment. The complete and utter certitude when it comes to jumping into the fray, wild eyed and desperate and manic and alive, truly and utterly alive and in the moment.
For as observant as Loki is, Paul has to wonder--not for the first time--how much of that he was aware of. Paul caught it right away. Probably, he thinks, because he looked at Loki the same way those girls did.
The question is levied at him and he shakes his head. There was a girl--beautiful, with a pixie cut and a good kid and a husband that tried to do right. He wonders if she got the message he left, still sees her horrified face as the elevator doors shut. More proof of who he is, who he'll always be. Loki, though...
"Not interested," he finally confirms it verbally. It's not a lie.
Loki wishes he could be surprised, though he was surprised at how the answer made something swell in his chest - a hope, a happiness that Paul was still unattached. He didn't have to deal with the idea of Paul with someone. He wanted Paul to be happy, of course, but- Them miserable but together was better than Loki gut wrenched and alone.
Loki didn't consider himself attractive but he was painfully aware of Paul's - arresting eyes, soft and unobtrusive until he was pissed. Until he took up all the air in the room with his too quiet and somehow devastatingly weighty threats, the way every movement was suggestive. Loki wasn't the only one that those good ol' God fearing girls stared at. Paul was taller, more handsome - Loki didn't have a chance standing next to him.
He smiles a little despite himself and fishes a pen out of his breast pocket. "Surprised you didn't lift it off the paperwork." A napkin is pulled over and Loki scribbles down his numbers, fresh out of business cards. He didn't like business cards - anyone could find one and get a hold of him. He was paranoid about that.
Why wasn't Paul interested? It felt like something else that shouldn't be discussed in public, so Loki doesn't ask.
"I don't keep regular hours so you can call whenever. I'll pick up if I can." Once the pen is in his pocket, Loki picks up his fork again.
"You gonna hang around town for a few more months then?"
Paul could have. He was planning on doing it even if Loki declined to give it to him, which is probably shitty, but Paul doesn't mind too much. It's nice that Loki's giving it to him, Paul finding it a bit funny that he has a pen ready (of course he does, he's a cop now), but once it's slid over Paul accepts it, three fingers pulling it towards him before he takes the whole thing with both hands as he slides it off the table, smiling softly for a brief second again.
It's just nice to have something with Loki's handwriting. Something Loki's touched, just in case. It feels fragile in his hands, like he might crumble like their relationship had.
"That's the plan." Maybe six months before moving a city again, starting over once more. Nino's on his case, even if Irene's safe. Weird, how there's a pit in his stomach now. Loki's given the offer to call whenever he wants. Paul clutches the napkin a little tighter, half-lifts it up, voice so soft it's almost inaudible.
"I'm gonna call you." There's an alarming amount of resolve in that phrase.
Loki studies him. Smiles in a way that reaches all the way up his forehead. Good. He found himself already looking forward to it. And when Paul left again - Loki had no delusions about his childhood friend, and even if he did, you never stay in the first town you've skip outta town too - he could still call. They wouldn't be alone as they were 24 hours ago.
Loki's plate is empty now, shoveled in, and the last piece of toast he has smearing up the yolk from his eggs. He didn't realize how hungry he'd been.
"You're gonna have to. I still need that car." No, he knew Paul would slip out, slip the promise if he felt he wanted to, but it was nice to pretend for the sake of a conversation. He should probably go to work, but damn if he didn't want the hour to stretch longer. It didn't really matter why Paul was here. Paul was here.
Loki smiles and Paul can feel his heart melting, can feel him wanting to mirror it back. He's gripping the little piece of paper tightly, not wanting to let go of it with either hand, first: a child with his very first valentine, completely smitten by the way his crush smiles. He almost feels happy. Loki seems to have the same idea, offering small talk they should both theoretically hate but feels easy with each other. Neither of them like to beat around the bush, neither of them had ever shied away from that sort of confrontation--sans Paul's preternatural ability to end most of things by simply not responding--but they're skirting around things right now.
But there's an unsaid promise between the two of them. Paul would call. Loki would pick up. And for now, Paul has a car to fix and Loki has a job. Paul places the numbered napkin in his pants, grabbing his wallet and pay for the both of them with a generous tip and a fistfull of dollars. They both eat quickly when they remember to: runoff of the boys home. He shakes his head.
"I gotta go to work." There was something mournful in the saying of it, but reality was never far away with its drum of neverending grind.
They get up and head towards the door, but Loki stops there on the sidewalk, hands buried into the coat pockets that he had redonned before leaving the diner. He smiles at Paul, really takes a second to soak in his features.
"I'm gonna walk. The station isn't far." His eyes dart between Paul's devastatingly blue eyes. "You make sure you call me, alright?"
Don't break his heart again. It's just a phone call. Just a connection. Let him have that.
"It was good to see you Paul." He smiles and stays for a heartbeat longer before turning and walking away. The station really wasn't that far and frankly, he needed the walk. To breathe, to get himself under control, to stop and absorb - really absorb the fact that Paul was here.
He had been in love with Paul since he was 15. Since he was old enough to really know what love was. Since he was old enough to know that he didn't want to think about what life would be like without Paul next to him. Except he knew what that was like now and, like a starving man, he was hungry for whatever scraps of Paul he was allowed.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-08-24 05:32 pm (UTC)No. The car, the chase, it wasn't a case, Loki's a cop. Loki's been helping people out of it. Loki's gone above and beyond to the point of getting shot, it sounds like, and Paul keeps staring at him with laser focused concentration, navigating lazy traffic like this completely second nature to him.
He doesn't like it. He doesn't like that someone shot Loki. His grip on the wheel tightens before he forces himself to keep calm, moving one of his hands to shift gears and finally tearing his gaze away and back onto the road. Headwound. That's bad. Loki can't keep himself fucking safe because he's sticking his neck out for others again. Paul wonders when the last time the other slept properly. If he eats.
If he found his Irene.
It's the car compliment that gets him to smile, temporarily forgetting that wave of anger. Loki noticed, and Paul's face softens into another soft, shy boyish smile as he pulls into a parking lot.
"100 horsepower when I first got it. Got a 454 in it now," he says softly, proudly, still grinning. "V8. Tore most of it apart, wanted to build something better. Keep the frame, keep the feeling. Make her sing."
It's probably the most he's said unprompted, and that's exactly why he feels comfortable saying something else.
"I know." There's a lot in that small sentence. 'I know you're upset. I know I shouldn't have just left. I know I owe you an explanation.'
no subject
Date: 2023-08-25 03:00 am (UTC)He barely eats. He hardly sleeps. He runs on coffee and raw determination, the latter of which was varied and deep in its real meanings. It applied to so many aspects of Loki's life. Surviving. Excelling. Doing something. There was no room for anything more. He didn't allow time for it. He supposes Paul is doing the same thing. Working. Working™, if last night was him.
But Paul smiles and it all matters a little less. It was such a good look. Such a rare one, even when they were kids, unless they were alone. Always brighter when they were talking about cars. Loki's lips lift a little, lost in wonder that this was all really happening. He didn't realize how much this could compromise him.
It wasn't until Paul utters those two little words that Loki's smile cools and simmers back down to the careful almost neutral look, the one that only left his eyes and eyebrows stormy and stony, respectively. There was so much he could say. So much he could get into. But more of him wanted to know what had happened to Paul over the years. Save the hard shit for never, since Paul would no doubt be leaving again. Even if he'd been here two months.
How had they not seen each other on the street?
The internal war didn't have a winner.
"You know what?"
He could guess. He could feel it in his stomach again. They had never much cared for leaving bullshit in the air between them but the heartbroken side of him needed to hear Paul say it. None of this three word statements - they were worth more than that. This wasn't a conversation they should have now and he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-25 04:26 am (UTC)It's the familiarity, maybe, or the way he knows Loki's always been happiest sinking his teeth into something even if he's miserable while doing it. He sure as fuck doesn't like that Loki's put himself in that sort of sleepless position in the first place, of course, but Paul's not one to talk. Even without his second job he doesn't get much sleep, most of his night time spent cruising around due to insomnia. Maybe they're two peas in a pod still. Maybe they've been up at the same time, both of them in shitty diners, both of them wondering about the other.
Paul still thinks of Loki frequently. Enough that when those doors elevator door closed on what might have been with Irene, he knew he was going to go back to the Washington area even before he started physically driving, staring into the sunset with a dead body and a pile of cash in the lot next to him. He wanted to be near his only friend.
Of course Loki has to ask the follow-up question. He turns the engine off, pivots the conversation. He may not be good at small talk, but he can feel something in Loki. Something new, a kind of manic... something. He's suspicious.
"Your coffee order," He answers, and he manages to look dead-eyed and stoic as he says it. They both drink theirs completely black, and it's difficult to tell if Paul's actually joking.
He's sliding out of his car, unbothered by the fact that his henley's still marred with grease already despite the day just starting, craving the comfort of his jacket. He waits for Loki to get out to continue to talk.
"Eat something." It's a quiet demand as they head in. Loki looks pale, and Paul isn't sure if it's because of the lack of sleep or the fact that the skies are always downcast here. He misses LA, feels almost out of place with a proper tan.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-25 03:22 pm (UTC)Loki slides out of the car with him, glancing back at her as he steps away - Paul really had done a great job and the pride he saw in his friends face when he was talking about it was well earned. Amazing how far that car body had come.
Eat something Paul says as Loki gets to his shoulder and he only grunts a soft note of acknowledgement. He wasn't really hungry, despite not having eaten anything in nearly 24 hours, but he would rather eat something with Paul and make the driver worry less than argue about it. He didn't want to spend what time this would be arguing.
A waitress greets them and gestures towards the open tables, waiting for them to take a seat before coming to ask what they wanted to drink.
"Two coffees, please, and two eggs with toast for the both of us," he says, shouldering off his jacket to drape over the back of his chair. If he was going to eat, so was Paul. Or at least, he would watch Paul consider eating with that stoic stare he's refined over the years.
Loki waits for the waitress to walk away before he says anything.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you up in this part of the country. Figured it'd be too cold." Everything was cold after LA's tepid temperatures that almost never dropped below 60 degrees. Paul looked warm and slightly out of place with his sunkissed skin, that was true, but it was more like getting ice cold lemonade on a hot day kind of good to see it.
Weather, location - it was boring, but it was safe. Easy places to start. Places that didn't lingeringly ache like an overused set of muscles that had forgotten how to work the way they used to.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-25 04:03 pm (UTC)Paul can see it. Not just the growth spurt, the new-old tattoos: Loki's happy with what he's doing, on some level. It's in the way he carries himself. He'd seemed directionless before, small and willing to set himself on fire if it meant keeping others warm. At least now he can channel that in his profession.
Loki's face only twitches like it had earlier if he really, really cares. Paul finds himself glancing down for a hint of a wedding ring and finds a tiny cross tattoo nestled between Loki's thumb and forefinger instead. He wants to touch it. Touch Loki, too. A touch on the shoulder to see if he carries all of his tension there still. A hand over that undercut to feel the buzzed sides.
"LA feels like home," he confesses, and he's surprised at how hurt he suddenly feels about that fact despite the use of the present tense. The coffee arrives and Paul finally moves, reaching over to grab his cup.
"Sorry about your car."
no subject
Date: 2023-08-25 04:39 pm (UTC)It didn't matter that he was two years younger than Paul, or that he had always been the runt out of the pair of them, Loki was more rabid and willing to cross the scrapyard in a way that left the other side more whole and less hospitalized. He was a loud mid-range dog with a heavyweight bite. Paul was a Cane Corso. Loki could handle it, and his self control.
If LA felt like home (it was, even for Loki, even now he still felt like a fish out of water, no matter how well he'd integrated into the department here, this wasn't the first place he'd landed when he left town himself), why wasn't Paul there? What had happened to make him leave? There wasn't a single thought about if it was 'his business' anymore - Paul was always going to be his business. Which is why he can't help but worry.
"So am I. It's been a long time since I've bounced a curb like that." He collects his own cup and takes a drink, setting it down on the table and letting it warm his hand, hopeful that it will distract the impulse to shift his feet so he was touching Paul. They were in public, privacy was dangerous, but something deep in him wanted it anyway.
"It really gonna take a week to fix?"
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Date: 2023-08-25 05:53 pm (UTC)"I'll pick up the parts today," he offers, and speaking is a little freer and easier, too. All it took was the simple act of Loki ordering for him and he feels protected.
Strange, how he hasn't felt like that in such a long time. He briefly considers telling Loki he didn't do too bad chasing him before keeping that part quiet, although the thought is there.
"Being a cop suits you," he says quietly, still thinking about the car chase. His words are earnest enough he can't quite look Loki in the eye, staring at his coffee cup as a tiny smile threatens to break out.
He's proud of Loki. Really, truly proud. He's envious, jealous, distrustful, hateful about the whole thing, about Loki's path, but the strangest, strongest emotion is how proud he is of the other.
Loki found a way to be a good shark. Found a way to get out.
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Date: 2023-08-26 12:28 am (UTC)"That mean I can ask for a discount?" No storage fees would be nice. He didn't expect anything though and wouldn't be offended in the slightest if Paul told him to go fuck himself. But then Paul drops his little nug of knowledge and Loki can't help but flash a grin and dropped his free hand on the table. "I knew it."
He hadn't known it but everything about it all only pointed to Paul, and he just hadn't dared hope. But he was still counting it as being right. He tils his head a fraction to the side and studies more of Paul's face at the following comment, hungry for every facet of that almost smile and the sunshine that would break out if Paul only let it. Hungry for Paul to approve of him, hungry for Paul to just look at him.
The waitress comes back again, this time carrying plates and Loki leaned back to give her room, setting aside his coffee as he did. She asks if they need anything else and Loki breaks his stare long enough to glance up at her with a "Yes, thank you."
It's better than the shit I used to be into, he thinks to himself. Loki picks up his fork, shirtcuffs already rolled up from the day before where he hadn't bothered to roll them back down yet. The script up his forearm was new - they didn't used to reach that far, and he stabs into a bite of eggs.
"It keeps me outta trouble. I'd ask if your job is keeping you out of trouble, but we both know the answer to that question. Are you at least makin' it worth your while?"
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Date: 2023-08-26 01:18 am (UTC)He's a bit surprised at the I knew it remark, though he can't say anything because the waitress comes back with food. Paul curls his arm into himself, subconsciously leaning to block his plate from the rest of the world. Another habit that's long been instilled in him. He takes a piece of toast without really thinking, too enamoured by that tattoo to really catch himself dipping it into the yolk, but the moment is fleeting.
Theyre hitting the things shouldnt talk about. He keeps the triangle on the plate, looking at Loki immediately, voice perfectly calm, perfectly still.
"My job is at the garage you dropped your car off today, do you understand me?"
He's staring at Loki, face schooled, staring.
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Date: 2023-08-26 01:51 am (UTC)Did Paul have any idea what the people he was driving around last night were into? What he was validating and enabling for - for what? For money? Not for fame; he would have had that in the stunt circles of LA. Gotten an award or something. Something.
The type to not back down didn't always mean open opposition. He picks his battles, yes, but Loki didn't let things go that was stuck in his craw. Another internal war, a fleeting wish that he'd gone straight to work with the whiplash guilt of possibly depriving himself of sitting across from his- He wouldn't think about what they were right now. He couldn't.
It's doing a shit job at it's purpose- He takes that stabbed bite of his eggs, deferring with a look down and another rapid pinch of his face and pops it in his mouth. He and Paul hadn't fought often - that wasn't to say they didn't fight. Fists had been swung, shit had been said. Paul had his moments, Loki too, and they gave as good as they got. Even if it almost visibly destroyed them during it.
"You need a better job."
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Date: 2023-08-26 02:07 am (UTC)Good. They do have an understanding. Loki doesn’t have to like it, but it's there.
Paul doesn't mind that the other gets the last word in. He lets it roll off of Loki's tongue and finds himself savoring it, even if the subject matter isn't the best.
They'll argue about it later. Hopefully there's a later. Paul waits a few more minutes before he resumes eating.
"You look better taller."
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Date: 2023-08-26 02:21 am (UTC)"You say that like I'm not fucking adorable no matter what height I'm at. You look exactly the same." A little more refined as he had grown into his features, but exactly the same. Loki's tone was back to a casual cadence, fractionally quieter then before.
"Only things that's changed is the car. How long did it take you to get her restored?"
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Date: 2023-08-26 02:31 am (UTC)"Always working on it," he confesses, and he wouldn't want it any other way. He likes that Loki's asking. He likes Loki.
Fuck, he missed this. He finally goes back to his eggs.
"Got a girl?"
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Date: 2023-08-26 02:44 am (UTC)God, Loki had missed him so much.
"I got my job. Keeps me busy." That and he had less than no interest. That wasn't to say he didn't find girls attractive, he just- wasn't normal. He knew he was weird, hyper obsessive, with some Ideas marked upon his body to show his dedication, his belief, his temper. But he was still fundamentally broken. Maybe he should have elaborated and fleshed out specifically what he did in his job, but it hit too close to home and heart.
"You?" He looks back up with the question and takes a bite of his toast.
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Date: 2023-08-26 05:28 am (UTC)For as observant as Loki is, Paul has to wonder--not for the first time--how much of that he was aware of. Paul caught it right away. Probably, he thinks, because he looked at Loki the same way those girls did.
The question is levied at him and he shakes his head. There was a girl--beautiful, with a pixie cut and a good kid and a husband that tried to do right. He wonders if she got the message he left, still sees her horrified face as the elevator doors shut. More proof of who he is, who he'll always be. Loki, though...
"Not interested," he finally confirms it verbally. It's not a lie.
"Give me your number."
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Date: 2023-08-26 04:37 pm (UTC)Loki didn't consider himself attractive but he was painfully aware of Paul's - arresting eyes, soft and unobtrusive until he was pissed. Until he took up all the air in the room with his too quiet and somehow devastatingly weighty threats, the way every movement was suggestive. Loki wasn't the only one that those good ol' God fearing girls stared at. Paul was taller, more handsome - Loki didn't have a chance standing next to him.
He smiles a little despite himself and fishes a pen out of his breast pocket. "Surprised you didn't lift it off the paperwork." A napkin is pulled over and Loki scribbles down his numbers, fresh out of business cards. He didn't like business cards - anyone could find one and get a hold of him. He was paranoid about that.
Why wasn't Paul interested? It felt like something else that shouldn't be discussed in public, so Loki doesn't ask.
"I don't keep regular hours so you can call whenever. I'll pick up if I can." Once the pen is in his pocket, Loki picks up his fork again.
"You gonna hang around town for a few more months then?"
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Date: 2023-08-27 06:55 pm (UTC)It's just nice to have something with Loki's handwriting. Something Loki's touched, just in case. It feels fragile in his hands, like he might crumble like their relationship had.
"That's the plan." Maybe six months before moving a city again, starting over once more. Nino's on his case, even if Irene's safe. Weird, how there's a pit in his stomach now. Loki's given the offer to call whenever he wants. Paul clutches the napkin a little tighter, half-lifts it up, voice so soft it's almost inaudible.
"I'm gonna call you." There's an alarming amount of resolve in that phrase.
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Date: 2023-08-27 07:25 pm (UTC)Loki's plate is empty now, shoveled in, and the last piece of toast he has smearing up the yolk from his eggs. He didn't realize how hungry he'd been.
"You're gonna have to. I still need that car." No, he knew Paul would slip out, slip the promise if he felt he wanted to, but it was nice to pretend for the sake of a conversation. He should probably go to work, but damn if he didn't want the hour to stretch longer. It didn't really matter why Paul was here. Paul was here.
"I'll try to take better care of it this time."
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Date: 2023-08-28 12:45 am (UTC)But there's an unsaid promise between the two of them. Paul would call. Loki would pick up. And for now, Paul has a car to fix and Loki has a job. Paul places the numbered napkin in his pants, grabbing his wallet and pay for the both of them with a generous tip and a fistfull of dollars. They both eat quickly when they remember to: runoff of the boys home. He shakes his head.
"You gotta go to work."
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Date: 2023-08-28 01:58 am (UTC)They get up and head towards the door, but Loki stops there on the sidewalk, hands buried into the coat pockets that he had redonned before leaving the diner. He smiles at Paul, really takes a second to soak in his features.
"I'm gonna walk. The station isn't far." His eyes dart between Paul's devastatingly blue eyes. "You make sure you call me, alright?"
Don't break his heart again. It's just a phone call. Just a connection. Let him have that.
"It was good to see you Paul." He smiles and stays for a heartbeat longer before turning and walking away. The station really wasn't that far and frankly, he needed the walk. To breathe, to get himself under control, to stop and absorb - really absorb the fact that Paul was here.
He had been in love with Paul since he was 15. Since he was old enough to really know what love was. Since he was old enough to know that he didn't want to think about what life would be like without Paul next to him. Except he knew what that was like now and, like a starving man, he was hungry for whatever scraps of Paul he was allowed.