( as he raises his glass, he adopts a thoughtful look, his brow faintly furrowed. ) Hmm. No, that doesn't sound like me.
( he drinks his gin and tonic, then sets it back on the bar. the sly smile tugs at his lips again, giving away the lie before he's had a chance to complete it. it's really more of a tease. some might even call it flirting. ) Your eyes must've been playing tricks on you. ( hiring an impersonator doesn't sound entirely outside the realm of something loki might do, though he'd like to think that he's so singular that no impostor would be convincing enough.
he turns slightly on his stool to face thor better. ) Have you been keeping track? ( of how often loki shows up, that is. )
[ thor shakes his head, laughing to himself. ] Well, you are the trickster among us, so who am I to argue?
[ oh, yes, it's definitely flirting. he can't even blame it on the alcohol, because he's only had a few sips of one beer, which is hardly enough to make him feel warm, let alone loose-lipped. he's simply enjoying himself in loki's company, and he assumes loki is enjoying his if their easy banter is anything to go by. ]
[ he seems to consider the question for longer than he ought to. really, the answer is simple (yes, he has), but there's something somewhat satisfying about leaving loki in suspense, for however long it might last. finally, he smiles, somewhat secretively. ] Let's just say I never forget the nights you do. [ last he counted, it was twelve. ]
( he could blame it on the alcohol, if he wanted to. he's had more drinks than thor, after all, and it would be an easy lie to tell himself, to say that it has nothing to do with thor, and everything to do with his unclear head. but the truth is: his head is still clear, and he knows exactly what he's doing.
and it's not like he's holding his breath while he waits for thor's answer, but something does loosen inside his chest when he finally gets it. his pulse quickens, but he disguises whatever his face might show by raising his glass for another drink. he should probably feel ashamed at having been so obvious, showing up to thor's performances more often than he should, but he's not. )
All those women throwing themselves at you, and you still take care to find me in the crowd.
( it's an observation, but there's a question in there, too. that question is: why? )
[ he shifts to the edge of the stool so he's half standing, finishing off his beer as if he's got somewhere to be. in truth, he has nowhere to be, and is perfectly fine staying here with loki, but it's all about pretense. if he's going to get loki to invite him upstairs, this is how to do it. he probably could just invite loki to his place, but that would be too easy. he's not even sure loki would say yes. but if it's loki's idea, thor has no reason to say no. ]
[ he leans against the bar counter, closer to loki now than when they were sitting, close enough that he could easily close the distance between them. he doesn't, not yet. ]
They all want the same thing. [ him, namely. and sometimes he ends up with one (or two) of them in his bed, but even that, he's noticed, isn't as fulfilling as being here with loki or playing whatever game it is they've been playing. those girls are fun, fleeting, and that's all they are. people don't come to vegas looking for anything serious. he doesn't even know if he wants anything serious. he can't imagine loki does, either, but ... ]
[ he sets a hand over the next glass that slides loki's way before he has time to pick it up, his gaze steady on loki. ] I'm more interested in what you want.
( sometimes, he forgets how big thor actually is until he's standing right next to him. it's not just his height, or the width of his shoulders, or the fact that one of his biceps is nearly the size of loki's head. it's his warm smile, and the boom of his laugh, and the big, empty hole that's left behind whenever he leaves a room. next to thor, loki feels small, insignificant, lost in his shadow. but when thor looks at him, he feels like he can take on the world.
it's a dangerous thing, to let someone have that much power over him. it's part of the reason he plays his games, to feel โ even if only for a moment โ like he's the one who has power over thor, and not the other way around.
but there are things he wants, things thor seems all too willing to give, if loki just says the word. maybe tonight is the night he'll finally do it. when thor looks at him, he looks right back, unflinching, unreadable. he lays a hand on top of thor's. ) What I want... ( he starts, and then โ
he removes thor's hand from his glass. ) ... is my drink, if you don't mind.
[ thor relents, momentarily, letting loki move his hand and take his drink. maybe it's something of a win that their hands touched at all โ it couldn't have been only him who felt a spark, like lightning or flint against stone โ even if thor hasn't a clue what's going on in loki's head. is he interested? is he not? it's hard to say, really (though most days thor is convinced he is), and perhaps that's just the nature of the game. he'll have to keep playing to find his answers. ]
[ he folds his arms across his chest, more to have somewhere to put his hands than anything else, his eyes still trained on loki, searching for anything that might give his intentions away. he knows a deflection when he sees one, but this isn't some magic trick. it's something ... more complicated than that, he thinks. magic is an art loki has perfected; this is uncharted territory, for both of them, perhaps. ]
And then what? [ there's an invitation there, in the tone of his voice and the corner of his mouth, if only loki would take it. ]
( the spark was real. it's still there, beneath the surface of loki's skin, warm and tingling. it makes him wonder what it would feel like to have thor's hands on him, everywhere. but this is hardly the first time that particular thought has crossed his mind. in fact, he thinks about it a lot while watching thor on stage, and it lingers in the back of his mind for a while after. that's the point of the show, after all.
but the difference between loki and the rest of the frothing masses is that he gets thor to himself after. maybe other fans have gotten the privilege, too, but loki likes to think he's one of the few, if not the only one, that thor keeps coming back to. ( for now, says a treacherous voice inside his head. )
sipping his drink, loki raises an eyebrow coolly. he senses the invitation. of course he does. part of him really wants to take it. but another part, the more dominant part, won't let him. not yet. )
And then, who knows? ( he sets his drink down and turns around on the stool, so that his back rests against the bar, his elbows propped on the edge. ) This is Vegas. Anything can happen.
[ he isn't wrong; loki is, strangely enough, the most consistent part of thor's life outside of work and his friends, the one person he finds himself drawn back to again and again without fail. maybe because, unlike most things in vegas, loki is more than flashy entertainment and easy thrills. even, perhaps, more than a one night stand, should it come to that. as far as thor is concerned, it's only a matter of time. ]
[ anything can happen, loki says, and something about the way he says it โ the way the air shifts around them, want practically palpable in the little space that remains โ makes thor almost believes in magic. real magic. the kind that permeates the soul and becomes part of who you are. sometimes, he wonders if there's more to loki's tricks than mirrors or sleight of hand, the illusion of magic โ but only sometimes. the real magic, he thinks, is in not knowing. ]
[ he extends a hand, open palmed, as if they were anywhere other than a hotel bar and he were asking loki to dance. in a way, they've been dancing around each other for months. and if the invitation wasn't obvious before, it is now, manifested in a gesture that could hardly be called ambiguous. not that thor has any idea where they would go right now (though he does have a few idea of what they could do), but that's what's so great about vegas: the spontaneity. anything could happen. ]
( there's no such thing as real magic. no one knows that better than a magician. it's all smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand. making the audience look left while secretly going right. but that's what loki always liked about magic: the illusion. the carefully crafted lies and clever tricks. what he does on stage, night after night, isn't magic. it just looks like magic.
loki thought he'd long since lost the sense of wonder that came with seeing magic performed. that was the cost of knowing all the secrets. there was a mechanism behind every mystery, and loki has just about learned them all. when he comes across new ones, it's only a matter of time before he has those figured out, too. there's comfort in the control.
but, when thor holds out his hand, loki remembers what that sense of wonder feels like. he looks from thor's hand to his face, internally denying the inevitable, until he can't any longer. )
Oh, very well then. ( he downs the rest of his gin and tonic in one go, sets the glass on the bar, and places his palm in thor's. that spark returns, traveling up his arm, igniting something inside his chest. ) I'm sure I've made worse gambles.
( thor's entire face lights up, his grin wide and his eyes bright. this is definitely a win. possibly the biggest win he's had since he's known loki. it's almost a bit surreal, the weight of loki's hand in his, the solidness of it, unwavering. his heart beats faster, and surely he thinks loki can feel it, a pulse trapped between fingers. )
So now I'm just a gamble. ( but he's still smiling, his hand squeezing loki's lightly as he tugs him in the direction of the door. ) Have a little faith, would you?
( that this won't be a disaster, namely. maybe thor's being too optimistic, or maybe he just has a good feeling about all of this, based on the fact that loki is here with him at all, going gods know where to do gods know what. sure, they know what the endgame is here, but thor knows better than to expect that outcome immediately. there's still trust to be gained, and fun to be had that may or may not involve their clothes coming off. )
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no subject
( he drinks his gin and tonic, then sets it back on the bar. the sly smile tugs at his lips again, giving away the lie before he's had a chance to complete it. it's really more of a tease. some might even call it flirting. ) Your eyes must've been playing tricks on you. ( hiring an impersonator doesn't sound entirely outside the realm of something loki might do, though he'd like to think that he's so singular that no impostor would be convincing enough.
he turns slightly on his stool to face thor better. ) Have you been keeping track? ( of how often loki shows up, that is. )
no subject
[ oh, yes, it's definitely flirting. he can't even blame it on the alcohol, because he's only had a few sips of one beer, which is hardly enough to make him feel warm, let alone loose-lipped. he's simply enjoying himself in loki's company, and he assumes loki is enjoying his if their easy banter is anything to go by. ]
[ he seems to consider the question for longer than he ought to. really, the answer is simple (yes, he has), but there's something somewhat satisfying about leaving loki in suspense, for however long it might last. finally, he smiles, somewhat secretively. ] Let's just say I never forget the nights you do. [ last he counted, it was twelve. ]
no subject
and it's not like he's holding his breath while he waits for thor's answer, but something does loosen inside his chest when he finally gets it. his pulse quickens, but he disguises whatever his face might show by raising his glass for another drink. he should probably feel ashamed at having been so obvious, showing up to thor's performances more often than he should, but he's not. )
All those women throwing themselves at you, and you still take care to find me in the crowd.
( it's an observation, but there's a question in there, too. that question is: why? )
no subject
[ he leans against the bar counter, closer to loki now than when they were sitting, close enough that he could easily close the distance between them. he doesn't, not yet. ]
They all want the same thing. [ him, namely. and sometimes he ends up with one (or two) of them in his bed, but even that, he's noticed, isn't as fulfilling as being here with loki or playing whatever game it is they've been playing. those girls are fun, fleeting, and that's all they are. people don't come to vegas looking for anything serious. he doesn't even know if he wants anything serious. he can't imagine loki does, either, but ... ]
[ he sets a hand over the next glass that slides loki's way before he has time to pick it up, his gaze steady on loki. ] I'm more interested in what you want.
no subject
it's a dangerous thing, to let someone have that much power over him. it's part of the reason he plays his games, to feel โ even if only for a moment โ like he's the one who has power over thor, and not the other way around.
but there are things he wants, things thor seems all too willing to give, if loki just says the word. maybe tonight is the night he'll finally do it. when thor looks at him, he looks right back, unflinching, unreadable. he lays a hand on top of thor's. ) What I want... ( he starts, and then โ
he removes thor's hand from his glass. ) ... is my drink, if you don't mind.
no subject
[ he folds his arms across his chest, more to have somewhere to put his hands than anything else, his eyes still trained on loki, searching for anything that might give his intentions away. he knows a deflection when he sees one, but this isn't some magic trick. it's something ... more complicated than that, he thinks. magic is an art loki has perfected; this is uncharted territory, for both of them, perhaps. ]
And then what? [ there's an invitation there, in the tone of his voice and the corner of his mouth, if only loki would take it. ]
no subject
but the difference between loki and the rest of the frothing masses is that he gets thor to himself after. maybe other fans have gotten the privilege, too, but loki likes to think he's one of the few, if not the only one, that thor keeps coming back to. ( for now, says a treacherous voice inside his head. )
sipping his drink, loki raises an eyebrow coolly. he senses the invitation. of course he does. part of him really wants to take it. but another part, the more dominant part, won't let him. not yet. )
And then, who knows? ( he sets his drink down and turns around on the stool, so that his back rests against the bar, his elbows propped on the edge. ) This is Vegas. Anything can happen.
no subject
[ anything can happen, loki says, and something about the way he says it โ the way the air shifts around them, want practically palpable in the little space that remains โ makes thor almost believes in magic. real magic. the kind that permeates the soul and becomes part of who you are. sometimes, he wonders if there's more to loki's tricks than mirrors or sleight of hand, the illusion of magic โ but only sometimes. the real magic, he thinks, is in not knowing. ]
[ he extends a hand, open palmed, as if they were anywhere other than a hotel bar and he were asking loki to dance. in a way, they've been dancing around each other for months. and if the invitation wasn't obvious before, it is now, manifested in a gesture that could hardly be called ambiguous. not that thor has any idea where they would go right now (though he does have a few idea of what they could do), but that's what's so great about vegas: the spontaneity. anything could happen. ]
Care to find out?
no subject
loki thought he'd long since lost the sense of wonder that came with seeing magic performed. that was the cost of knowing all the secrets. there was a mechanism behind every mystery, and loki has just about learned them all. when he comes across new ones, it's only a matter of time before he has those figured out, too. there's comfort in the control.
but, when thor holds out his hand, loki remembers what that sense of wonder feels like. he looks from thor's hand to his face, internally denying the inevitable, until he can't any longer. )
Oh, very well then. ( he downs the rest of his gin and tonic in one go, sets the glass on the bar, and places his palm in thor's. that spark returns, traveling up his arm, igniting something inside his chest. ) I'm sure I've made worse gambles.
no subject
So now I'm just a gamble. ( but he's still smiling, his hand squeezing loki's lightly as he tugs him in the direction of the door. ) Have a little faith, would you?
( that this won't be a disaster, namely. maybe thor's being too optimistic, or maybe he just has a good feeling about all of this, based on the fact that loki is here with him at all, going gods know where to do gods know what. sure, they know what the endgame is here, but thor knows better than to expect that outcome immediately. there's still trust to be gained, and fun to be had that may or may not involve their clothes coming off. )