As soon as the door is flung open, Loki has both hands holding the strap of the bag hanging over his shoulders. A little stubbly, his hair a mess, and dressed in a pair of jeans, a Werewolves of London under an open leather jacket. A far cry from his usual look. Though Don and the boys have seen the jacket and jeans before, he had worn both when he took Fenrir for a walk on New Years day, with the boys.
Fenrir was busy tackling Sean to the floor licking all over his face, while trying to also lick at Kevin. Puppy was just so happy. While Loki's eyes locked on Don, he gave a sharp whistle, which got Fenrir to let Sean up. As Loki stepped past the three. "Excuse me, boys."
Making his way, with the bag still over his shoulder instead of dropped on the couch. "Sorry, I am late, Don." It was lame, but it was better than saying nothing. His eyes sad, and voice scratchy still from the actual sickness he was still recovering from. The flu that made him a week late in finally reuniting with the man. "May we speak?" A respectable distance left between them. He had heard that coffee cup break when the boys opened the door. So he wanted to wait and see what Don said.
The boys are so excited to see Loki - and by extension, Fenrir. They're far too preoccupied with puppy kisses and playful wrestling on the floor right inside the front door to even consider Loki might be looking scruffier and less put-together than usual, possibly a bit underweight. Don clocks it as soon as he comes into view, the expression on his face quite unreadable for once. There's a seriousness in his eyes, his jaw is set but not clenched. Loki looks miserable - just like Don feels.
"Late?" he repeats, a sharpness to his tone. He exhales slowly, nearly throws his arms up, almost loses his resolve. But no. No. He's not going to blow up. He can't do that - not here, not in front of the kids. "Loki, it's been two months."
There's an annoyed shake of his head, a gesture for Loki to follow him, and Don turns on his heels to head back towards the kitchen. Doesn't even wait for him, just stares straight ahead on his way. But he makes sure to call out to the boys before he forgets, mustering the most pleasant voice he can manage: "Guys, please make sure to lock up. Bed soon, alright?"
When he enters the kitchen, the receipts he's holding are carelessly dropped onto the table by where he was seated. He pauses, observing the mess of spilled coffee and broken ceramic on the floor next to his chair, and he drags his feet over to the sink. Determined to clean up as a means of distracting himself from the incoming conversation.
Loki expects it is Fenrir more than him for the boys, and he's not even bothered by that. He wants them to keep busy while they adults talk. They don't need to know anything is wrong, lord, when did he become like his mother?
He knows that answer. Following Don silently, his bag sat down on a chair while Don cleans up the coffee, taking a breath as he watched him a moment and waited until he finally has his words as Don's cleaning.
"I shouldn't have ghosted you." He admits it, sounding sad as he said it. "I just knew that kissing a straight man like I did was not smart. I assumed you would hate me." He shifted his green eyes to Don. "I couldn't bear the thought of you hating me, Don. So, I ran." Reaching up to run a hand through his messy hair. He hated what a mess he had become, but if he had cleaned up more he would have chickened out. "Mum spoke to me a couple weeks ago, but then the whole office got sick." He shrugged some. "Covid, what can you do? I had to wait until I was better. I'm sorry, Don, for any pain I caused. You mean the world to me, I don't want to lose you."
Don's annoyed at himself for breaking a mug, sure, but at least it's not one of sentimental value. The ones of Rosie's he's kept are safely stored away at the back of the cabinet never to see the light of day.
Spilling his coffee all over the floor proves to be more of a godsend than anything else, because it helps him bite his tongue and keep biting it as Loki fumbles his way through whatever it is he's trying to say. The more he rambles, the deeper the ditch he's digging for himself.
Don remains silent, occasionally shaking his head yet not saying a single word in response to any of it. In one way it's respectful - he's waiting until Loki is finished. In another, he's forcing himself not to blurt out something he might regret later. Carefully, the pieces of mug are picked up from the tile, and he gathers them in a dish rag he holds in his open palm. They go straight in the trash bin under the sink. It's too late to mop, so paper towels are the course of the action for the coffee mess itself. When all is said and done, it's not the best clean-up job, but it's fine for the time being. Another problem for another day. He's too tired, his blood threatening to boil over.
When he chucks the used up paper towels into the bin, that's slid back to its proper home beneath the sink. He closes the cabinet door slow and quiet. There's no slam. When he straightens up, he's looking out the window over the sink as he washes his hands, out into the dark, seemingly at nothing. Loki's stopped talking by now, and he's just... processing. Considering.
"Made a whole lotta assumptions there," he finally comments after what seems like forever. He turns off the water, dries his hands. After a minute he turns to face his friend, but he can't look up, doesn't dare make an attempt at eye contact. He leans back against the counter, hands propping himself on the edge. Staring at the tile and the table legs and Loki's feet as he tries formulating what to say next.
"I don't think I could ever hate you, Loki." He swallows, shifting the way he's standing. Uncomfortable. "But you disappeared without a word. Couldn't even text me back?"
That last thing comes out as more of a question, and Don looks up, an expression of the utmost hurt plastered all over his face. It's not something he can hide or even try to. Because yeah - he's hurt. He's been hurt for weeks now.
To be fair, if Loki knew there were any of Rosie's mugs left, he might have asked for one as a birthday gift. He missed Don's wife more than he cared to admit.
This rambling is exactly why Loki gets in trouble with his family as much as he does. That hot temper and all of his issues together did not make a healthy person. Loki watched as he spoke as Don cleaned up the mug and moved about. His anxiety growing when his friend didn't cut him off and jump in as he often did in the garage.
Unsure what to do with his hands, he left them at his side as Don finally started to speak. Those tired green eyes watching him. "I did..." He admitted nodding softly, messy curls bouncing as he did.
Both relief and pain drifted through him as Don spoke. "I didn't know what to say... I'm sorry." He apologized, his voice regretful as he spoke it. His therapist had given him the riot act too. Finally, reaching into his pocket and holding his hand out, a set of keys in his hand. "I know I have a problem with running, it's one of the things I work with my therapist on. Take these, these are both keys to my house. If I dare do this again, come confront me." They were clearly newly made keys, too. That hurt look on Don stabs his heart as he held the keys Don's ways.
The hurt turns into pure confusion, his gaze redirecting to the shiny keys. Don's brows knit tightly together, and he's at a loss for words. Frowning some, straightening up with his back still to the counter. Desperately trying to process this.
"I'm sorry I ghosted here are the keys to my house?" is what he settles on, perhaps a bit too prematurely. It's either this or let the extremely awkward silence grow and grow and become way too uncomfortable... Even more than it already is.
"...Your therapist told you to make copies of your house keys." It's not a question. It's a statement. Like he's trying to convince himself this is totally rational.
He doesn't take them. His arms cross over his chest instead.
Loki was a little cracked, but it all made sense to him. It is the same reason his Mother, Jane and Thor had keys.
"It sounds weird when you say it that way. This is me saying I don't want to lose this again. And If I do it again, please come drag me out. This is my promise that you are one of the most important people in my life, Don."
Keys still held out, as he watched Don with those green eyes.
"No, she told me I was a moron and to fix it. This is me trying to fix it, that, and I am also here to do your taxes as I promised too. I thought those together might help some."
Don keeps looking up at Loki, then down towards the keys. Up, down. Back, forth. Still frowning, still crossing his arms while he (begrudgingly) listens to what his friend has to say. It's the weirdest sort of apology, but it's still an apology... and he's very wary regardless of that.
"Have a seat, I guess," he finally decides on. He nods toward the kitchen table, the mess of receipts and papers on top of it. No mention of the keys. He'll have to mull that over for a little while.
"I can put on a fresh pot of coffee. Or put the kettle on for tea. It's whatever you want."
Before Loki can give him an answer, he's already milling about in preparation.
He had every reason to be weary, being ghosted hurt like nothing else. Worrying daily if the person would do it again. Loki wanted the keys to keep that pain from staying with Don. Don meant so much to him, and he didn't want his best friend hurt, as he had made so many others hurt in the past.
"Alright." A second spared to step back to grab his laptop from his bag to place it on the table. Moving to look over the mess of recipes and papers as he loaded up his laptop and he started to organize everything quickly while Don spoke. "Tea sounds divine, but this feels like a coffee night."
His leather jacket removed and hung on the back of the chair as he sat and started to look over the papers. "Whatever is easiest."
"Coffee night it is," Don announces, heaving a sigh. He's already taking the steps towards the fridge to grab the nice water from inside and fill the coffee pot up with that instead of straight from the tap. The cold leftovers in the pot itself from hours ago are unceremoniously dumped in the sink, the vessel rinsed out for a moment.
After that, the kitchen is uncomfortably quiet save for that faint rustling of those papers as he sifts through the cabinets and pulls out everything he needs. There's nothing for him to say, really. Nothing he can think of saying at the moment. He's still angry, sure. And a large part of him doesn't want to jump straight to forgiveness, despite the other desperately wanting to fix this. And what about the house keys...
He dares to glance over his shoulder at Loki seated at the table every once in a while, wanting to say something but shutting his mouth before turning back and busying himself some more. Loki hasn't done anything like this before with him. It's a first-time offense. Hopefully a last-time? But should he give him another chance...? It was quite the disappearing act, one that sent him through the wringer multiple times.
The mental debate and gymnastics continue as he waits leaning against the counter for the coffee to brew. It's only then he bothers grabbing a few mugs from their designated cabinet close by, following that up with creamer and sugar. Everything is deposited on the table a decent distance away from where Loki's working (no spills, please). And finally he brings the steaming mugs of fresh black coffee over to the table, setting one down for Loki, the other for himself, before he sits himself back in his chair from earlier.
"Is it bad?" he asks, changing the subject as he loosely gestures towards the stack of receipts and invoices. He isn't reaching for creamer or sugar, opting to take his first sip without any. "Be honest. I probably did a terrible job and messed it up more."
Those house keys that Loki sat on the edge of the table near the paperwork, waiting for Don, a little sailboat key ring on it. Loki spent time picking out a key ring that screamed Don.
Loki was already doing what he does best. Finding order in chaos, the papers being quickly moved around and stacked as his laptop was already booted and loaded to the pages he would need, and the Excel sheet he intended to make. Regretting not bringing his portable scanner, but it was fine. This he can do.
"No, no, this is nothing compared to when I was forced into my position at Ragnarok, it took me three months to get the books in order. This may take three hours, and that is just from making a spreadsheet too in case you get audited, you would be prepared." He explained.
Reaching for the black coffee he offered Don a soft smile before having to sit the cup down quickly and turning to cough. Standing to go wash his hands at the sink real fast. "They told me the cough will linger a few weeks, I promise I am not contagious." Always worried given how fast Rosie got sick. "Don't worry, it's not bad, even if you did, I can do this, Don." Returning to his seat for a drink of the coffee.
Don notices the keychain as he putters about. It's cute. He catches himself nearly smiling but forces himself to put on a gruff expression. He's supposed to be angry. Loki isn't getting away with this.
That doesn't stop his gaze from drifting towards the keys while they sit at the table together. He keeps sipping at his coffee, wanting to pick them up but resisting.
...His own set of house keys? Really? They kissed, Loki bailed, and now... house keys. After countless weeks of radio silence.
He sighs, perhaps a bit too loudly. He's stuck inside his own head even when he should be focusing on the tax conversation. How could he not be??
"Three hours?" He sets his mug down, glances over at the clock on the wall. "It's already late. Real late. You don't need ta do all this now."
...He also didn't need to come here in the first place. Let him apologize, Don.
He's fighting with himself on the inside, going quiet once again. Idly tapping at the side of his mug.
"What happened, Lokes?" He could be asking about the illness. Or he could be asking about something else entirely.
It's the "something else entirely" - punctuated by the way he's staring Loki down as he comes back to sit at the table.
Loki doesn't expect quick forgiveness, lord knows he made Thor jump through hopes to be forgiven. And all Thor had done was make him feel worthless without meaning too. Loki willingly hurt Don thinking it was best.
The sigh has the green eyes peering over the laptop at him, Loki's fingers still moving quickly as he gets everything set up. He had enjoyed the kiss, but assuming Don was straight, he ran, he didn't want to lose his best friend, but that was what he nearly did. "I work better if I just do it all at once, you don't have to stay up unless you don't trust me alone here. I would understand after what I have done." Hes slept on that couch a lot.
Taking a break, he stopped typing a moment and looked at Don. "I panicked." He admitted low, his eyes staying on Don, the shame there. "I thought you would be mad and never want to see me again. By the time Mother and Thor spoke to me about it, I felt like I had waited too long. It didn't matter that I made myself miserable, hearing how you felt made me feel worse. I wanted to find a way to fix it, but I was scared you'd hate me for one reason or another. Which, again, is an ongoing problem I have been working with my therapist on." The taxes could wait a moment as he spoke.
"You mean the world to me, Don, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable."
Don listens, still tapping at his mug, picking it up once or twice to busy himself with more sips of coffee. Anything to channel the odd mix of angry nervous energy he can't quite shake. Interrupting would be rude and uncalled for and he's already raised his voice with annoyance enough. It's getting late.
"You ran instead of openin' your mouth," he comments, trying not to sigh again and failing. "We coulda avoided this whole... [shitshow] thing if you said something to me."
He frowns a little as a thought comes to him. "Am I really that scary, Lokes?" he wonders out loud. Because really - when has Don ever been scary? Or the least bit intimidating? He doesn't think he is, but sometimes a person isn't aware of their own... energy.
Loki can't help but feel the anxiety amping inside of him. He didn't expect fast forgiveness after what he did. But, seeing Don visably upset and so quiet was unsettling. His fingers kept gliding across the keys until he hit a point where Don had spoke. Lifting his fingers and taking the mug in hand he looked down at first. A noise of agreement following.
Though the question had him looking up at Don like he was crazy.
"You're not. As I said, I am the problem here. It is always me, like Grímnir has always reminded me." A look of guilt crossing his face as he took a drink. "I don't even remember when I started running from my problems. I try not to, but I always default to it. At least since I got kicked out of school I've had this problem. I expect everyone to react violently to me when I mess up. I know you would never, logically, but minds don't always listen to logic."
Loki being kicked out of school was a pretty famous bit of gossip when it happened, it was not too long before he had met Rosie. They never talk about it, but rumors had circulated from he was on drugs, to arrested at a concert for disorderly behavior, and the one closest to the truth, that he had gotten someone pregnant.
"I want to do better, Don. You're my best friend, and I missed you this last month."
"And I don't wanna be a problem, Loki," he replies, shaking his head. Don shifts the way he's sitting, moving his chair just enough to face Loki more head-on. "Don't ever wanna make you feel uncomfortable or like you gotta run away from me, alright?"
The irritation is there, but the sadness is much stronger. The disappointment more than evident. He's trying to navigate all of it and remain as level-headed as possible, and eventually he softens. So much.
"I missed you too. A whole lot." He's quiet when he says it, a sheepish little smile spreading across his features before he glances away. "It's been a pretty shitty month without you."
"You are not and never could be." Loki spoke earnestly, finally pushing the laptop closed for now to focus fully on Don. He would likely start over rather than find his spot later, but for now, eye contact with his beloved friend was far more important.
"I missed you too, Don. I am sorry for all of this." He repeated. "I was so worried I ruined it all." Raking a hand through his messy curls. "Is there any way I can help fix it? I would do anything you ask, Don. I mean that."
“Y’sure about that? Seems like a pretty loaded question to ask.” A pause. “And mean.”
He’s being silly. Just typical Don behavior.
…Or is he?
To counter Loki’s nervous disposition, the older man seems focused and intent. Serious, above all. Leaning in just enough towards him to seem… intimidating in a way, hands folded neatly on the table. Almost like it’s an interrogation.
Don holds it for as long as he can muster, hopefully long enough to illicit some sort of reaction out of Loki before he’s dissolving into little giggles of amusement. It’s the ultimate way to slice through the tension.
“I’m kidding,” he says, stifling the noises with the back of his hand. “You already do enough for me. Just - stick around, okay? Be here.”
And then, almost like an afterthought:
“I could go for another one of those kisses,” he says, his tone light. He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head for a moment before getting comfortable. “That… was really somethin’. If you’re up for it, that is. Don’t want to force you into anything—“
To say Don hasn’t stopped thinking about that magical moment would be the biggest understatement of the century. It’s been replaying on loop for hours, days, weeks. He simply can’t escape it. So maybe another one will knock it out of his head? Momentarily?
He tries not to look too hopeful as he continues to ramble on and on and embarrass himself.
The response made Loki look up color draining from his face as he took in Don. Worried that it may not be his usual silliness, but it could be paranoia too. The more Don sat like he was in trouble, the more color drained from Loki's face.
Then Don dissolved, and Loki finally breathed a breath he didn't know he was holding in.
"You got me..." Loki muttered before finally cracking a grin and chuckling. He still looked like he was sweating bullets, but slowly it was fading as Don spoke on.
"That is what the key is for. If I vanish again, come drag me out, or tell Thor I am being stupid again, okay?" He offered, as Don spoke of the kiss, that grin widened. "Well, Mr. Marcus, I do believe I could grant you that."
The taller standing slowly to make his way over to Don. "Your wish is my command." He teased lightly leaning down to steal a kiss from the older man. Softer than the kiss at Disney but no less feeling in it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Fenrir was busy tackling Sean to the floor licking all over his face, while trying to also lick at Kevin. Puppy was just so happy. While Loki's eyes locked on Don, he gave a sharp whistle, which got Fenrir to let Sean up. As Loki stepped past the three. "Excuse me, boys."
Making his way, with the bag still over his shoulder instead of dropped on the couch. "Sorry, I am late, Don." It was lame, but it was better than saying nothing. His eyes sad, and voice scratchy still from the actual sickness he was still recovering from. The flu that made him a week late in finally reuniting with the man. "May we speak?" A respectable distance left between them. He had heard that coffee cup break when the boys opened the door. So he wanted to wait and see what Don said.
no subject
"Late?" he repeats, a sharpness to his tone. He exhales slowly, nearly throws his arms up, almost loses his resolve. But no. No. He's not going to blow up. He can't do that - not here, not in front of the kids. "Loki, it's been two months."
There's an annoyed shake of his head, a gesture for Loki to follow him, and Don turns on his heels to head back towards the kitchen. Doesn't even wait for him, just stares straight ahead on his way. But he makes sure to call out to the boys before he forgets, mustering the most pleasant voice he can manage: "Guys, please make sure to lock up. Bed soon, alright?"
When he enters the kitchen, the receipts he's holding are carelessly dropped onto the table by where he was seated. He pauses, observing the mess of spilled coffee and broken ceramic on the floor next to his chair, and he drags his feet over to the sink. Determined to clean up as a means of distracting himself from the incoming conversation.
no subject
He knows that answer. Following Don silently, his bag sat down on a chair while Don cleans up the coffee, taking a breath as he watched him a moment and waited until he finally has his words as Don's cleaning.
"I shouldn't have ghosted you." He admits it, sounding sad as he said it. "I just knew that kissing a straight man like I did was not smart. I assumed you would hate me." He shifted his green eyes to Don. "I couldn't bear the thought of you hating me, Don. So, I ran." Reaching up to run a hand through his messy hair. He hated what a mess he had become, but if he had cleaned up more he would have chickened out. "Mum spoke to me a couple weeks ago, but then the whole office got sick." He shrugged some. "Covid, what can you do? I had to wait until I was better. I'm sorry, Don, for any pain I caused. You mean the world to me, I don't want to lose you."
Yes, he word vomitted right there in the kitchen.
no subject
Spilling his coffee all over the floor proves to be more of a godsend than anything else, because it helps him bite his tongue and keep biting it as Loki fumbles his way through whatever it is he's trying to say. The more he rambles, the deeper the ditch he's digging for himself.
Don remains silent, occasionally shaking his head yet not saying a single word in response to any of it. In one way it's respectful - he's waiting until Loki is finished. In another, he's forcing himself not to blurt out something he might regret later. Carefully, the pieces of mug are picked up from the tile, and he gathers them in a dish rag he holds in his open palm. They go straight in the trash bin under the sink. It's too late to mop, so paper towels are the course of the action for the coffee mess itself. When all is said and done, it's not the best clean-up job, but it's fine for the time being. Another problem for another day. He's too tired, his blood threatening to boil over.
When he chucks the used up paper towels into the bin, that's slid back to its proper home beneath the sink. He closes the cabinet door slow and quiet. There's no slam. When he straightens up, he's looking out the window over the sink as he washes his hands, out into the dark, seemingly at nothing. Loki's stopped talking by now, and he's just... processing. Considering.
"Made a whole lotta assumptions there," he finally comments after what seems like forever. He turns off the water, dries his hands. After a minute he turns to face his friend, but he can't look up, doesn't dare make an attempt at eye contact. He leans back against the counter, hands propping himself on the edge. Staring at the tile and the table legs and Loki's feet as he tries formulating what to say next.
"I don't think I could ever hate you, Loki." He swallows, shifting the way he's standing. Uncomfortable. "But you disappeared without a word. Couldn't even text me back?"
That last thing comes out as more of a question, and Don looks up, an expression of the utmost hurt plastered all over his face. It's not something he can hide or even try to. Because yeah - he's hurt. He's been hurt for weeks now.
no subject
This rambling is exactly why Loki gets in trouble with his family as much as he does. That hot temper and all of his issues together did not make a healthy person. Loki watched as he spoke as Don cleaned up the mug and moved about. His anxiety growing when his friend didn't cut him off and jump in as he often did in the garage.
Unsure what to do with his hands, he left them at his side as Don finally started to speak. Those tired green eyes watching him. "I did..." He admitted nodding softly, messy curls bouncing as he did.
Both relief and pain drifted through him as Don spoke. "I didn't know what to say... I'm sorry." He apologized, his voice regretful as he spoke it. His therapist had given him the riot act too. Finally, reaching into his pocket and holding his hand out, a set of keys in his hand. "I know I have a problem with running, it's one of the things I work with my therapist on. Take these, these are both keys to my house. If I dare do this again, come confront me." They were clearly newly made keys, too. That hurt look on Don stabs his heart as he held the keys Don's ways.
no subject
"I'm sorry I ghosted here are the keys to my house?" is what he settles on, perhaps a bit too prematurely. It's either this or let the extremely awkward silence grow and grow and become way too uncomfortable... Even more than it already is.
"...Your therapist told you to make copies of your house keys." It's not a question. It's a statement. Like he's trying to convince himself this is totally rational.
He doesn't take them. His arms cross over his chest instead.
no subject
"It sounds weird when you say it that way. This is me saying I don't want to lose this again. And If I do it again, please come drag me out. This is my promise that you are one of the most important people in my life, Don."
Keys still held out, as he watched Don with those green eyes.
"No, she told me I was a moron and to fix it. This is me trying to fix it, that, and I am also here to do your taxes as I promised too. I thought those together might help some."
no subject
"Have a seat, I guess," he finally decides on. He nods toward the kitchen table, the mess of receipts and papers on top of it. No mention of the keys. He'll have to mull that over for a little while.
"I can put on a fresh pot of coffee. Or put the kettle on for tea. It's whatever you want."
Before Loki can give him an answer, he's already milling about in preparation.
no subject
"Alright." A second spared to step back to grab his laptop from his bag to place it on the table. Moving to look over the mess of recipes and papers as he loaded up his laptop and he started to organize everything quickly while Don spoke. "Tea sounds divine, but this feels like a coffee night."
His leather jacket removed and hung on the back of the chair as he sat and started to look over the papers. "Whatever is easiest."
no subject
After that, the kitchen is uncomfortably quiet save for that faint rustling of those papers as he sifts through the cabinets and pulls out everything he needs. There's nothing for him to say, really. Nothing he can think of saying at the moment. He's still angry, sure. And a large part of him doesn't want to jump straight to forgiveness, despite the other desperately wanting to fix this. And what about the house keys...
He dares to glance over his shoulder at Loki seated at the table every once in a while, wanting to say something but shutting his mouth before turning back and busying himself some more. Loki hasn't done anything like this before with him. It's a first-time offense. Hopefully a last-time? But should he give him another chance...? It was quite the disappearing act, one that sent him through the wringer multiple times.
The mental debate and gymnastics continue as he waits leaning against the counter for the coffee to brew. It's only then he bothers grabbing a few mugs from their designated cabinet close by, following that up with creamer and sugar. Everything is deposited on the table a decent distance away from where Loki's working (no spills, please). And finally he brings the steaming mugs of fresh black coffee over to the table, setting one down for Loki, the other for himself, before he sits himself back in his chair from earlier.
"Is it bad?" he asks, changing the subject as he loosely gestures towards the stack of receipts and invoices. He isn't reaching for creamer or sugar, opting to take his first sip without any. "Be honest. I probably did a terrible job and messed it up more."
no subject
Loki was already doing what he does best. Finding order in chaos, the papers being quickly moved around and stacked as his laptop was already booted and loaded to the pages he would need, and the Excel sheet he intended to make. Regretting not bringing his portable scanner, but it was fine. This he can do.
"No, no, this is nothing compared to when I was forced into my position at Ragnarok, it took me three months to get the books in order. This may take three hours, and that is just from making a spreadsheet too in case you get audited, you would be prepared." He explained.
Reaching for the black coffee he offered Don a soft smile before having to sit the cup down quickly and turning to cough. Standing to go wash his hands at the sink real fast. "They told me the cough will linger a few weeks, I promise I am not contagious." Always worried given how fast Rosie got sick. "Don't worry, it's not bad, even if you did, I can do this, Don." Returning to his seat for a drink of the coffee.
no subject
That doesn't stop his gaze from drifting towards the keys while they sit at the table together. He keeps sipping at his coffee, wanting to pick them up but resisting.
...His own set of house keys? Really? They kissed, Loki bailed, and now... house keys. After countless weeks of radio silence.
He sighs, perhaps a bit too loudly. He's stuck inside his own head even when he should be focusing on the tax conversation. How could he not be??
"Three hours?" He sets his mug down, glances over at the clock on the wall. "It's already late. Real late. You don't need ta do all this now."
...He also didn't need to come here in the first place. Let him apologize, Don.
He's fighting with himself on the inside, going quiet once again. Idly tapping at the side of his mug.
"What happened, Lokes?" He could be asking about the illness. Or he could be asking about something else entirely.
It's the "something else entirely" - punctuated by the way he's staring Loki down as he comes back to sit at the table.
no subject
The sigh has the green eyes peering over the laptop at him, Loki's fingers still moving quickly as he gets everything set up. He had enjoyed the kiss, but assuming Don was straight, he ran, he didn't want to lose his best friend, but that was what he nearly did. "I work better if I just do it all at once, you don't have to stay up unless you don't trust me alone here. I would understand after what I have done." Hes slept on that couch a lot.
Taking a break, he stopped typing a moment and looked at Don. "I panicked." He admitted low, his eyes staying on Don, the shame there. "I thought you would be mad and never want to see me again. By the time Mother and Thor spoke to me about it, I felt like I had waited too long. It didn't matter that I made myself miserable, hearing how you felt made me feel worse. I wanted to find a way to fix it, but I was scared you'd hate me for one reason or another. Which, again, is an ongoing problem I have been working with my therapist on." The taxes could wait a moment as he spoke.
"You mean the world to me, Don, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable."
no subject
"You ran instead of openin' your mouth," he comments, trying not to sigh again and failing. "We coulda avoided this whole... [shitshow] thing if you said something to me."
He frowns a little as a thought comes to him. "Am I really that scary, Lokes?" he wonders out loud. Because really - when has Don ever been scary? Or the least bit intimidating? He doesn't think he is, but sometimes a person isn't aware of their own... energy.
no subject
Though the question had him looking up at Don like he was crazy.
"You're not. As I said, I am the problem here. It is always me, like Grímnir has always reminded me." A look of guilt crossing his face as he took a drink. "I don't even remember when I started running from my problems. I try not to, but I always default to it. At least since I got kicked out of school I've had this problem. I expect everyone to react violently to me when I mess up. I know you would never, logically, but minds don't always listen to logic."
Loki being kicked out of school was a pretty famous bit of gossip when it happened, it was not too long before he had met Rosie. They never talk about it, but rumors had circulated from he was on drugs, to arrested at a concert for disorderly behavior, and the one closest to the truth, that he had gotten someone pregnant.
"I want to do better, Don. You're my best friend, and I missed you this last month."
no subject
The irritation is there, but the sadness is much stronger. The disappointment more than evident. He's trying to navigate all of it and remain as level-headed as possible, and eventually he softens. So much.
"I missed you too. A whole lot." He's quiet when he says it, a sheepish little smile spreading across his features before he glances away. "It's been a pretty shitty month without you."
no subject
"I missed you too, Don. I am sorry for all of this." He repeated. "I was so worried I ruined it all." Raking a hand through his messy curls. "Is there any way I can help fix it? I would do anything you ask, Don. I mean that."
no subject
He’s being silly. Just typical Don behavior.
…Or is he?
To counter Loki’s nervous disposition, the older man seems focused and intent. Serious, above all. Leaning in just enough towards him to seem… intimidating in a way, hands folded neatly on the table. Almost like it’s an interrogation.
Don holds it for as long as he can muster, hopefully long enough to illicit some sort of reaction out of Loki before he’s dissolving into little giggles of amusement. It’s the ultimate way to slice through the tension.
“I’m kidding,” he says, stifling the noises with the back of his hand. “You already do enough for me. Just - stick around, okay? Be here.”
And then, almost like an afterthought:
“I could go for another one of those kisses,” he says, his tone light. He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head for a moment before getting comfortable. “That… was really somethin’. If you’re up for it, that is. Don’t want to force you into anything—“
To say Don hasn’t stopped thinking about that magical moment would be the biggest understatement of the century. It’s been replaying on loop for hours, days, weeks. He simply can’t escape it. So maybe another one will knock it out of his head? Momentarily?
He tries not to look too hopeful as he continues to ramble on and on and embarrass himself.
no subject
Then Don dissolved, and Loki finally breathed a breath he didn't know he was holding in.
"You got me..." Loki muttered before finally cracking a grin and chuckling. He still looked like he was sweating bullets, but slowly it was fading as Don spoke on.
"That is what the key is for. If I vanish again, come drag me out, or tell Thor I am being stupid again, okay?" He offered, as Don spoke of the kiss, that grin widened. "Well, Mr. Marcus, I do believe I could grant you that."
The taller standing slowly to make his way over to Don. "Your wish is my command." He teased lightly leaning down to steal a kiss from the older man. Softer than the kiss at Disney but no less feeling in it.