Not creepy or anything (Nanami)

[Anonymous]

Lies.

"Aw," he said, taking pity on Loki.  He'd embarrassed him successfully, but he hadn't won.  He never would win, because Loki had that little bit of reserve Liv lacked.  He was less needy.

Also, it wasn't about winning.  Liv had to keep reminding himself of that.  It was about the pleasure of the moment.  The pleasure of throwing their stupid egoism off and admitting to fallibility and awkwardness and need.  Of course, Liv liked it better when Loki was the one who had to do that.

So petulant.  He loved it when he got like that.  In petulance he was transparent.

Liv wanted to stay, but he supposed that a bit of distance might be a better idea.  He reached for the vest he'd just selected and held it up, ignoring Loki for a moment.

"Okay... fine," he said.  "I will go out into the hall, and you can surprise me with your dashing new outfit."

He was at the door, he'd opened it, vest and hanger slung loosely over one shoulder.  He turned back to Loki, lips pursed thoughtfully.  "Also, I was lying when I said I wouldn't--"

The door slammed shut behind him.  He had left out the last two words ('fuck you') out of courtesy.  Public place.  

Beat that, Loki.  At the same time, he'd sort of offered honesty in the hope of peace.  Sure, he was a little jealous of Loki, sure, a little creepily covetous, and sure, he wanted to be friends.  Friends were honest with each other.  Liv settled against the shut door, hands on his elbows, trying to read Loki's thoughts.  He wiggled his legs impatiently, bending and unbending his knees.

[Anonymous]

Ngh. When Liv left, he slumped down on the seat in the corner and took a few seconds to rest. He was alone, he was completely himself. Completely uncompromised. Just him. And with nothing else on his mind but himself, he was allowed to recuperate. For now, he could forget that what just happened happened. The evidence was removed from the room and the words of Liv’s passing shot were fading away from the forefront of his thoughts.

Anyway, clothes. Dressing. The act of building himself up again.  He took off the waistcoat and set it aside in the definite buys section. The trilby followed it. He tried the green jacket first, which he loved. He put it on for the sake of showing Liv how wonderful he was in it. They looked good with his jeans and slim white Derby lace ups. He felt better.  Much better. Actually, hang on. Add the black scarf and- yes. Even better.

Heh. He supposed there was truth to Liv’s confession. Who wouldn’t do Loki right now?

He opened the door, with a small and vague satisfied smile. He breezed out into the hall full of mirrors, into the better light. He struck a pose, hands in his pockets and posture rapier sharp. Chin angled up haughtily.

“Well?” Loki sighed. He turned to face Liv, crossing his arms. “Out and say it.  The sooner I get through this the sooner we can grab lunch.”

[Anonymous]

"Hm," Liv said.  He paced around Loki, looking him over from all angles.

We can grab lunch.  That made Liv feel happy inside.  Too happy, edged with bitterness that something so little had made him happy.  At bottom, he thought, it really was sort of true; he just wanted to be liked.  He liked Loki, even though Loki could be ridiculously shallow and frustratingly, willfully obtuse about basic realities.  And he looked stupid with his nose in the air like that.  As though he'd attempted a caricature of hauteur.

... Right, maybe he was doing the hypocrisy thing again.

"Low-keey."  Liv circled behind him, fingering the lapel and then the collar of his jacket, and then, abruptly, smacked him upside the head, ruffling his hair.  "Gods, with the stupid posing."  He laughed and took a few quick skipping steps back, then ducked into the dressing room to grab the new vest he'd decided, after about three minutes' reflection, to buy.  And the beret.  And the beret he was getting for Loki, as per his promise.  The store clerk could pack up the jacket and hat he'd come in with.

He poked his head out of the dressing room warily, holding the door in place between them to fend off retaliation.

"Yes.  You look marvelous.  Totally fuckable except for that stupid-ass jacket, what the hell, but whatever, your taste is clearly warped."  He ducked.  "Okay, let's go have lunch, I'm starving."

[Anonymous]

“Ow!” It didn’t really hurt. It was better as an exclamation of surprise. “Dick.” He whirled around, ready to retort with a slap to the face or something. But Liv retreated out of arms length and then behind the door. Loki groaned.  He quirked an eyebrow as Liv’s poked his head out. Mostly because it made him look oddly innocent and obliging and everything that Liv wasn’t.  

“My taste is fine,” he replied, sulkily, ignoring the barely-a-compliment, that he had been offered. He moved forward again, hoping to grab Liv’s hair when the door moved between them and Liv disappeared as a possible target. Except there was a gap over the door- awww he wished he had telekinesis now. There were a lot of heavy bags in there that could go walloping around.

He settled for a shoe instead. He stepped on the heel of it with his other foot and wriggled it free. He heft it in one hand, feeling it’s satisfying weight in his palm and smiled.

Then he lobbed it over the door.

“Oh yes, let’s,” he concurred in a falsely excited, high pitched voice. “Hurry up and move so I can get my clothes.” Pause. “And my shoe. We still need to pay.” He banged on the door once. Maybe he won’t come out, seeing as Loki still had another shoe to throw. He tapped his fingers against the door.

[Anonymous]

"Hey!"  

Liv ducked away from the incoming missile, which glanced off his shoulder, then straightened up and brushed off the lingering mark.  He pushed his lips into a petulant, performative pout, before realizing no one was watching.  Oh well.  He was watching.  In three directions, no less.

"Y'know, Loke," he called, firmly latching the door and then retreating to the back wall, whence he could see any incoming shoes, "poor strategic planning there."  He shrugged into the vest he was going to buy, which went well with the red shirt, and frowned down at the buttons. "Erm, yeah... I've got all your clothes hostage."

He finished buttoning the vest handily, smacked his lips, and picked up Loki's discarded shoe, weighing it in his hand.  He tucked the beret under the other arm.  They would pay by scan at the door, the work of a moment.  At length, he unlatched the door and swung it open with some force.

"Good thing you starved me out.  Here y'go.  Heads up.  Let's eat."  He threw the shoe back toward the other Pilot.  "Let them take care of our things."

[Anonymous]

Loki caught the shoe, fumbled, then managed to tangle his fingers in the laces, saving it from the floor.  He stuffed it back on and did the laces. How childish Liv was. Loki was too, but he deluded himself into thinking Liv was worse. Deep down he supposed they were on par. Oh well. He didn’t have to care unless there was someone who mattered around. He slipped into the dressing room quickly to grab the watch he’d bought earlier and then left everything else inside.

He paid at the door, passing his hand through the scanner after informing the sales assistant that he wanted everything. Once outside, he looked behind him to see if Liv had followed. He took a moment to consider the absurdity of the situation. Lunch with Liv. Usually the only engagements he had with Liv were fighting so to do something else was … odd. Strangely disorientating.

Worry about how to act when they actually sat down to eat something, maybe. First of all, food.

“Any ideas?” Loki asked. “There’s a nice café over there but … I don’t know it might be a bit too …” Cosy? Romantic? “You know what? Never mind, you pick,” he waved dismissively. Wasn’t the smoothest save. Why did he bother? There wasn’t anyone important around.

Maybe he just liked distance. Formality. It gave him time to think, to formulate. Not rushed or enraged when he tended to make mistakes. He shrugged a little to himself.  “I suppose I’ll have to pay, since you’re the girl and all,” Loki attempted a lame snipe to regain his balance. He tapped his foot in a show of impatience.

[Anonymous]

What.  The.  Fuck.

Liv could read no sly cruelty in Loki's thoughts, nothing really sharp.  Just a little confusion and something else, something nearly pleasant.  Ah.  Maybe the attention was working.  Liv had always theorized that if he only flattered Loki enough, he'd start to like him.  That was how it worked.  

Still.  He hadn't expected a few of the fumbling, awkward dips he'd caught in Loki's speech.  He turned the beret he'd just bought the other Pilot over in his hands, thinking, as they stood in the bustling, humming street.  First of all, considering the social niceties of where to have lunch?  Implied much more care than he'd thought Loki had.  Implied... weirdness.  

Also, you're the girl?  Implied they had the kind of relationship in which someone was the girl.  Right, Loki had to be messing with his head.  Was he in Network withdrawal again or--no, he'd be grumpier.  Ah.  Maybe he was just performing the less aggressive version of gay chicken, the emotional kind.

Because it was just not possible that Liv had managed to create actual sexual tension between himself and Loki.  That was completely ridiculous.  Right, fine, Loki had succeeded in making him uncomfortable.  Points to Loki.

That fucker.  With the false veneer of mannerliness and things.  Liv tut-tutted and worried Loki's beret, which he still held, trying to discomport him.  

"I wasn't the girl when you broke out the handcuffs."  Ha.

Oh no.  Wait.  Stop.  Bad Liv.  No more sexual innuendo, talk about something else.  And now Loki really would believe he'd been the culprit, though he hadn't, he was almost sure.  "Ah... joke, joke."  He tugged at Loki's arm.  "Come on, the café will be fine.  Honestly, Razz, what, are you worried the muffins are fattening?  Fucking girl."

[Anonymous]

He did not just go there. Loki glared at Liv, but insisting that he returned his wardrobe now would seem less significant now that Liv knew he had a bundle of new clothes on the way to his apartment.

Yeah, sure it’s just a joke, Liv. He could even be thinking of another scheme to steal Loki’s new clothes. Made sense- he did like the waistcoat a lot. He gave Liv a sharp shove to get him away from his arm, rolling his eyes again. “In that case, you can pay for everything, Liv dear.”

This was weird. Just because it was new. Which would imply he’d get used to it. Then there was the question of whether it was a good thing to get used to it. It was Liv, who wasn’t exactly predictable. Things were fine now, a truce, but there was always the sense that it was precarious. Transient.

“Maybe you’re over thinking,” an exasperated Astrophel interjected him suddenly.

“Perhaps it doesn’t concern you,” he replied, irritably.

“Maybe it’s pissing me off.”

“You don’t have to listen.”

“Hard not to.”

“Oh go away.” His mouth had settled into a harsh, straight line as he walked on.  A little sulkily, because Astro was right. It was just lunch. It didn’t have any other connotations-

They’d reached the café. Loki went through the door without looking back and made for a table for two by the window.

Table for two. Ugh! An earthy, muted, warm colours- How fucking quaint.

He sat down without saying a word, unravelling the scarf from around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. He fiddled with the menu. He should say something, but he needn’t ruin a perfectly good silence with nothing significant. That was Liv's job.

[Anonymous]

Liv settled into one of the seats by the window, forearms resting on the table.  He took off his own hat and set it down beside the place setting, the one he'd bought for Loki beside it, a little closer to the other Pilot.  He could take it if he liked.  If not, who cared.

Now that they'd cleared the air with teasing and shopping, Liv had begun to come back down to earth.  He stared down at his menu, pondering lunch.  Coffee would be a necessity.  A cheeseburger would be nice.  He tapped the space on the menu beside the items he wanted and then looked up, lacing his fingers together, thumb chafing the slickness of old burn scars.

He'd wanted to talk to Loki about so many things, and he wasn't sure why.  Or exactly how to begin, now that he thought about it.  What had he had, some edgy psychic intuition that he'd sympathize?  Well, not sympathize.  Liv eyed Loki.  Not sympathize.  But.

"Hey.  Thanks for letting me tag along," he said finally, too fast.  He tilted his chin down and watched the little movements of his fingertips.  He felt clumsy outside of the cant of teasing and flirtation.  "And.  Look.  It's kind of funny, you know, but it's also kind of fucked that you don't care about just--not remembering the whole--I mean, there's blacking out, and then there's some Marshal-wannabe messing with your mind--"  Liv frowned and lowered his voice. "--and aside from being scary and dick as hell, that's actually... well, Loko, you ought to be more careful."

With the stuff you keep on your terminal, for example.  He didn't say it, because that was not the topic he wanted to broach.  Ugh.  Marshal.  Liv hoped Loki had not heard about the minor breakdown he'd had when Marshal had decided to fuck with his brain over the whole Fala thing.  Fucking Marshal.  Liv himself would never do something like that, he'd decided, it had to be one of the principles he stuck to.  He knew he ought to accept mindfuckery, by Dragon or human, as a necessary hazard of Pilotry.  He didn't.  

Pause.  Annd on a lighter note...  Shit.  "So what're you having?"  He tapped the near edge of Loki's menu.

[Anonymous]

Er … what?

Was he talking about the handcuff thing or what? Loki narrowed his eyes, confused.

Though if he was referring to that, Liv wouldn’t look so serious. It was a new expression- there was something asymmetric about it that made it look real and less calculated. But what? Marshal huh? Granted, him and handcuffs were generally well linked but-

Wait.

Was he talking about-

Pfft. No way. Never mind. Couldn’t possibly- He exhaled the breath he had been unconsciously keeping. He ignored Liv’s question into his meal, paying him a sardonic look. “The advice is much appreciated,” he replied, a smirk glancing off to one side. He still didn’t know what he had been talking about. That was a lie. He had an inkling. But Loki was very good at fooling himself. The lie stood. And it was irrelevant  anyway, because Loki was disregarding what Liv said.

Moving back to trivialities-

Coffee probably. Maybe just a sandwich. He didn’t feel all that hungry anymore. He dropped the menu flat on the table and looked around. “You’re ready to order, right? I want to get back with enough time for connection,” he said. His dismissive attitude carried into his speech. It was easier that way, just using one mode. He sounded impatient.

Then again. It was only Liv. Right, just Liv. Remember that. No point making it hard for himself. His fingers drummed the table, beating a fast rhythm. They fell in mesmeric pattern. He got distracted by it.

[Anonymous]

Liv felt his shoulders hunching, as though a gear set at the tip of each collarbone kept winding ever-tighter in rhythm with Loki's tapping.  Hunch.  Hunch.  The tension twanged at the base of his neck.  Right.  Moving right along.  Loki's eyes had glazed over, he'd purposefully distracted himself.  Liv did the same thing often enough--

Ack--enough.  He slapped one hand over Loki's, quashing the rhythm with a thump, and felt his knuckles collapse flatly to the table.

"Stop it.  I ordered already, while you were doubtless agonizing over calories."  Girl.  Liv couldn't resist the opportunity to take the piss in new and interesting ways.  Ha.  Liv might have to work hard to bulk up, but at least he had an enviable metabolism.  He removed his hand slowly and sat back, gesturing dismissively at his menu.

"Anyway, I think I am going to visit the old ATC later.  I wish I could take a Candidate sometimes."  But he was too new a Pilot, and too irregular.  "I'm jealous, Loke, because you know you could."  No subtext?  Weird.  No, Liv was trying to be serious.  He found it difficult to figure out the proper level, the proper subset or paradigm, for honesty.  He had set up so many levels, all of them varied in their uses, variously encoded.  There wasn't really anything at the bottom, behind it all, but one of the levels, the one that took the most effort to reach, was closest to honesty.  Or something.  "You should.  Not that you'd make a good mentor, but then..."  He waved a hand toward the concept's impossibility, flipping his fingers open one by one.

"But you want to Connect, okay.  Hell, the day is young, I might even go and wander the city a little.  You could come.  If you didn't want to Connect."

[Anonymous]

Hmph. Was the whole Candidate thing meant to tempt him or was that just all one set up so that Liv could dig at Loki’s addiction? Wouldn’t put it past Liv. He should know better bring up the Network, it was a sensitive subject. With the amount of crap that went on in the hospital, he found it hard not to connect before or after work. He tried not to, but it was-

Hah. He inhaled sharply in a bitter amusement. He didn’t need to justify himself. He worked hard. He- he … was going it again. Justifying. Working with words to chase away blame.

Loki shot a look over at Liv, calculating and summarising. Also taking a moment to understand and identify what feelings were now beginning to swell and ebb and mix. Anger, but the more subtle kind. Hot coals rather than a flash. The more enduring kind.

Ignore the Network dig. Focus in on something else. He should respond to something else to hide the real reason he was angry with Liv. He slid down in his seat, posture melting into something more easy and yet superior. Easy. At ease. “Sorry, what was that? I’d make the bad mentor?” Loki repeated incredulously. “And this is coming from you. What would you know about good mentoring? What’s there to go by? Fine, Macario could be the small saving grace but Hasdrubal-“

Did he really have to say anything else? Loki looked up at the ceiling with an air of victory, as small and unsatisfactory as it was. Was it about winning? Or just about making someone else hurt as much as he did? More if possible. Because then everything was better in relation.

He would need to Connect after this. Damn. Absentmindedly, despite his knuckles popping from being squashed by Liv’s hand, his fingers started drumming out the rhythm again. With irregularities. Lunch was a bad idea. Did he really think it up, or was the inclusion of ‘we’ just a slip of the tongue? He wondered, eyes moving inexorably to check the time on the clock on the wall.

[Anonymous]

"What?" Liv said, frowning.  If that had been meant as a jab, it hadn't been a very good one.  I wasn't like he teared up every time he thought of old Hazzie.  "Hey, he wasn't all bad," he added mildly, worrying one corner of his napkin between pointer finger and thumb.  "Endearing, even."  

Yeah, just like us.  

He kicked Loki under the table and fixed him on a pointed stare.  

"... okay.  You're right.  They all suck, but you could suck less, you should cut back on the sucking generally, Loki, y'know.  Hey."  He caught up on the trickle and flow of Loki's surface thoughts, though they were difficult to read, slippery, partly nonverbal.  "Stop thinking about the Network, babe."  He kicked him again, more gently.  "It's not like it's not getting me, too, lighten up about it, not much you can--"

[Anonymous]

Loki winced the first time Liv’s foot connected with his shin. Then the second time. He was still simmering, bristling with anger. And he just kept talking- No! Stop it. Who did he think he was anyway, daring to give him advice like that? Just, enough. He struck out, landing a lash on Liv’s shields. His sentence fell away like an insect. A moment of fragile calm and stillness- a strange nothingness.

“Damn it Liv, you just talk too much,” Loki said with a smirk, as if he could chase away the real reason for his psychic attack. Why not? He could forget it before Liv picked up on it. Neither of them would be the wiser if Loki did it properly.

There was never a time for honesty. Far too dangerous and stupidly destructive. Perhaps every Pilot worked like him, hiding unutterable little truths under layers of self-delusion that allowed him to function like a normal person. It hid many things- that sometimes he wasn’t independent, that he might not be the charming person he believed he was, that his front was too fragile.

So he wished Liv would stop touching at the unutterable little truths. There nothing wrong with delusion. It provided a means of preservation.

He could respond. He could. About the fact that Liv not thinking Haz was bad being the problem. As if that made his behaviour acceptable. Abuse was a given in the Candidate system but- gods, Loki would be so scared of being unable to find an excuse for the magnitude of his suffering if he had been stuck with Haz. But if he said this he was at the danger of losing face though. Because Liv would respond.

He felt very tired now. Too much effort was going into preservation. Stupid Liv. Food suddenly appeared and Loki remembered he still hadn’t ordered food. He ordered in passing. Just a sandwich and coffee. Then ran a hand through his hair slowly. Ugh. Messed up- Liv had ruffled it at one point. Stupid Liv.

“I wouldn’t even want to go to the ATC anyway,” he added with a lighter tone, crossing his arms, “due to present company. Sorry babe.”

[Anonymous]

Liv's food arrived: a black coffee streaming steam and a glisteningly cheesy hamburger, which oozed reddish juices onto its bun.  Mm.  He smiled widely at the waitress and paused to thank her, leaning on the comforting crutch of meticulous politeness.  So charming, he was.  

Once she had gone, he blinked to himself, sat up, and touched his silverware with careful fingers.  He established the ceremony of the moment, as he was wont to do, exercising tiny delicacies of manner.  He shook ketchup onto the upper bun of the burger, considered it, and added more, probably more than anyone over the age of ten would think palatable.  No matter.  Then he squeezed the sandwich together, lifted it, and licked ketchup from around the edges.  All the while he ignored Loki, who had decided to be an immature prat again.

Ritual done, he took an enormous bite and chewed hugely, then set the burger down on his plate and swallowed like a python.  "Ah."  

He wiped his fingers on his napkin and took a sip of water, and then, at last, composed himself into conversationalism.  He probed one side of his mouth with his tongue and cleared his throat.  Loki looked so annoyed in a tightly-wound about-to-crack sort of way.  Urbane but trying too hard.  He always tried too hard.  Which was funny, because he was at the same time one of the most inveterately lazy people Liv could think of.  

He brushed Loki's psychic attack off and let his mind wind tightly shut, sealing itself off against further intrusion.  Enough of that.  He didn't try to stab back, but instead returned to shallowness, though he tried to show Loki, subtly, that he was a little hurt.  And wanted to... not... something.

"You talk too much, too," Liv said now, facing Loki with his back very straight, so their eyes were almost on level, despite the height difference.  "But you don't say anything."  He sniffed.  "Here I was trying to unburden myself to you.  I have feelings, you know, chum, and I--"  He'd started to pull his coffee toward him while he talked, but stopped in sudden, weird surprise, peering down into the mug.  "--I say, where's the milk and sugar?  Or whipped cream, seriously, I am not drinking this shit raw."

[Anonymous]

Wasn’t talking without saying anything at all exactly the point of it all? Why would Loki dare to convey anything profound with words? What was the point? Words should remain a medium with which someone dazzled. Trailed them glittering through the air. Give them weight and they fail. They should stay shallow, to dodge that danger of giving them too much meaning. That other people could read and then deduce him.

He was growing more uncomfortable under the sense of significance that was permeating through the situation.  Possibly paranoia but- He couldn’t help it. It was cloying. Liv mentioned feelings and that was it. What was this whole thing? Just some elaborate form of emotional bondage? So he admitted that he liked Loki and he was somewhat flattered by the notion, but since when did that suddenly mean that he was meant to return it? Meant to divulge himself?

What did Liv want? Fucking hell, what did he expect?

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, gaze dropping away from Liv’s. “You say too much. I’m starting to get worried about your assumption that I want to know these things,” he said sharply. Anger had cooled into irritation. Mostly directed at the feeling that Liv was trying to make him feel bad for not saying anything or paying attention to what other people felt. As if his methods were wrong when they clearly were not. They worked as they were supposed to. They kept safe.

Well. Safer.  

His coffee arrived. Food would be along shortly. It allowed him to move without drawing suspicion and he’d been repressing the urge to fidget. He had his coffee black anyway so lifted the mug to his lips to hide any signs of discontent from the line of his mouth.

[Anonymous]

Liv could not shake the feeling that this--that Loki's mental state, or the subtle bits of it he picked up--this was so familiar.  The same little mindfucks about shallowness.  The same mask, persona, he made of his face.  Liv wished Loki had learned all the tiny little lessons he had, about performing.  It got so complicated when he tried to articulate them in retrospect.  Something about power, something about control, and something about understanding other people.  Or not understanding them.  Ah, all that performativity was some sort of defense mechanism, a way of blocking people out.  But still keeping them around.

Loneliness, Liv, is a weakness.

Loki would laugh at him if he heard that thought, probably, though it was true of him too, Liv would bet almost anything.

He'd asked for milk, sugar, and whipped cream when the waitress had returned with Loki's coffee.  Now she arrived with a tray of these additives in hand, and he took his time measuring spoon after spoon of sugar into his coffee.  He stirred thoughtfully--the ideal saturation point was that at which the grains stopped dissolving and came up from the bottom clinging to the tip of his spoon.  Then he added milk in careful doses, and then, with a flourish, a sprayed florette of whipped cream on top, which bobbed and dissolved into smaller and smaller islands of foam.  

"Sorry," he muttered at last, stirring his whipped cream into oblivion and watching Loki, mouth relaxed into expressionlessness around the words.  He was sorry.  He'd been an idiot to  bring something like that up casually.  Loki shouldn't trust him, and he shouldn't have said something just because he was lonely.  Fucking pathetic, Livos.  He stuck out his tongue at Loki, but the gesture was both calculated and halfheartedly flat.  

"I know you don't want to know anything, actually," he added, pushing his coffee aside to rest and absorb its weight in sickly-sweet cream.  Someday he'd have to learn how to relate to people without giving them shit via platitudes and pithy... shit.  But it was what he'd learned and it was hard to make it stop feeling meaningful.  "Ah."  He gestured at his coffee, diverting attention, and then, tipping his chin up, pulled his plate back toward him.  "See, that is much better.  We're such little kids."

His sudden smile didn't actually feel that forced.  He watched the tension writhing around Loki's eyebrows and the corners of his mouth, and suddenly felt like the whole thing was actually damned silly.  He also felt just a little protective or--something uncomfortable.  Loki worried so much.  Liv worried too, but at least he didn't do it in front of people.

Oh, wait.

[Anonymous]

Loki waved his middle finger about in response to Liv sticking out his tongue, eyebrows furrowed together. He tried to lend the action seriousness with his expression but the gesture itself was irredeemable. It was childish.

Ha. Kids. They were much more absurd. ‘Kids’ wasn’t an accurate placement on the scale. Things swung about far too wildly. Simple to complex. He wondered how much easier everything would be if he actually made good on his threats to ignore Liv. Whether it would work. Whether there would be any point. There wouldn’t be any point. They were absurd. This whole thing could have no meaning if they wanted to render it so. Loki would prefer it that way.

“You’re a dick,” he said. It was a grounding thing. Didn’t mean anything. But it was sort of a signal. To go back to normal. Loki’s food was placed in front of him and he said thank you quietly. He picked up his sandwich and made a point of being neat and slow with eating. Liv would probably rip him for it. Being dainty and all. Well screw him. Just because he didn’t dislocate his jaw to eat.

He couldn’t really step back and get perspective. If he could, he reckoned he would be pretty disconcerted. All the fights, laughing, the dangerous moments of cloying meaningfulness. How very neurotic.

But at least for now it was easy. Liv was being Liv, or rather how Loki was used to Liv being.  He continued to eat, keeping an eye on the whipped cream since he wouldn’t put it past Liv to start a food fight.

He glanced out of the window, people watching for a moment. Then he caught the sight of a camera again. Same person with the bad hair. He groaned and slumped in his seat. “I’m not used to having so many stalkers.”

[Anonymous]

Liv bolted his own hamburger in five or six bites and then sighed his satiety, slumped happily in his seat, and settled in to watch Loki.  He rested his elbows on the table and his chin in his cupped palms, postprandial chemicals slowing his thoughts and dragging down on his eyelids.  Loki ate very slowly.  And he was thinking about Liv.  

Well, about what Liv thought about him.  He had that self-consciousness, anyway--he had that way about him, that watchful, hooded look in his eyes.  Liv recognized it because he was that way himself.  He got caught up in how other people felt and saw him so much that it permeated.  With Loki it was a bit easier, because they both did it, so it bounced back and forth and they took turns being shallow.  

Oh, he really liked Loki.  How stupid.  Bad taste.

Liv glanced sideways out the window when Loki did, flicking some hair out of his eyes.  Camera lady.  Oh, wow, so much attention.  He smiled brilliantly out at her, then brought the befuddled beam of his teeth back over to Loki.

"Silly Loke," he said, grabbing at his hand as he went to lift his sandwich for another delicate bite.  "Of course you're not.  But someday, when you're actually popular, as I am, you will get more.  Hey, you're taking forever here, let me--"  Liv ducked forward, chin down and mouth open, bringing Loki's sandwich-holding hand up so he could steal a bite.

[Anonymous]

“Oh shut up- Hey!” he protested as Liv ate his food. “Ugh.” Loki slapped his hand away and glared. He wasn’t even that hungry but still- it looked strange. “I can’t take you anywhere.”  Surely she should just go away. She wasn’t going to get a candid shot. Liv was being a camera whore. Though that would probably sell better than a candid. Anything that had a whore in it sold well in Aedolis. Loki waved sarcastically, putting his sandwich back down.

He leaned over and grabbed the whipped cream. He sprayed a little in his own coffee to disguise his intentions. He just wanted to keep it close by as a measure. He kept a hand around the can. “Are you going to behave yourself until she goes away or am I going to have to ruin your clothes?”

Being telekinetic would be so helpful. He could cuff Liv round the back of the head whenever he did something affection instead. Without it being photographed. He stirred the cream into his coffee while smiling amiably. He took a sip and put on the most condescending voice he could without laughing. “Now if you’re good, I’ll get you ice cream too.”