[ Looking at his quarters as if through outside eyes, Chris can admit that yes, they are rather large. And gleaming in that way the newest starships usually are; a far cry from his home in Montana that clings to old-Earth traditions and is all dark wood and cold stone and a large, crackling hearth.
Maybe having an open fireplace on board is foolish, but Chris likes it, and besides, it's got a protective screen around it. A protective screen that is invisible until bumped into, but still. He's not just throwing flames around willy-nilly in the middle of his living room.
That's reserved for the kitchen, with the old-fashioned stovetop and grill. ]
Don't blame me for this. I didn't design this ship, I just live here.
[ He's grinning, though, pleased by the delight Loki's showing as he peers around corners and looks into cabinets, examining the space that Chris has slowly turned from sterile quarters into something that does, actually, feel like home. ]
[ It's all very Chris and a comforting space to be in. Once he has given the place a cursory snooping he wanders back over to him and runs his hands up a golden chest, leaning in to bump noses.
His voice lowers to a thoughtful hum and his lips catch on Chris's, swaying on the spot to take in the feel of him. ]
[ Like magnets, his hands automatically lift to settle on Loki's hips when he steps in close enough, those black-nailed hands sliding up his chest feeling intimately familiar and yet also incredibly strange after so long since they saw each other last.
He lifts his chin a little to deepen their kiss just slightly, just enough to enjoy it. ]
I told you not to worry about dinner because I already made it. Before I went to find you.
[ Assuming Loki hasn't eaten since their confrontation in the mess hall, he's probably starting to feel a tad peckish. ]
[ That really is the last thing he expects, given the way Loki blanches. A moment after looking Chris over he wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him deeply, a desperate need to have this man's bodyheat on him again now rolling tenfold through his blood and ensnaring him by the ribs, arching into Chris's weight. He wants his hands in that greying hair, under his shirt, all over him, it doesn't matter as long as Loki can moan with the taste of him on his tongue. ]
[ Is that really so strange? He's a grown man, and while yes, admittedly, he has spent his entire adult life employed in an organization that provides food for its employees fully-cooked and ready to eat, he has to fend for himself sometimes.
Plus, he likes to do it. It's enjoyable, stress-relief.
He's distracted from his confusion by Loki all but launching himself at him, though, licking into his mouth and clutching at him like he's been lost at sea and Chris is the first buoyant object he's found in days.
Sliding his hands up and down Loki's back, Chris hums. ] Easy, baby, I'm here.
[ Tension eases from his shoulders when that reassurance comes and he manages to hide his face in the curve of Chris's neck, winding his arms around his middle instead. The hands on Loki's back are grounding and he can taste Chris on his lips. ]
[ Still taller than him, Loki nonetheless tries to tuck himself into Chris's chest, an action Chris is more than happy to accommodate, lifting his elbows a little so Loki can wind his arms around his waist instead and then folding him in close. Sometimes you just need a hug, Chris gets that. ]
Of course. [ He continues to stroke one hand up and down Loki's back with the same sure pressure he uses when soothing one of his horses, before he turns his chin and drops a peck to his temple. ]
C'mon, sweet thing. Let's get some food in you and then you can sleep in a place that isn't a jeffries tube.
[ The idea of taking Loki and throwing him down on one of Chris's sofas is definitely appealing, but they've both had a long day, and sometimes you just need to sit down and eat a plate of pasta before you can face anything else. ]
[ Wow, called out. Flustered, he scoffs and gives a Super Casual shrug. ]
I was just resting my eyes in there ...
[ But he'll drop a kiss back on Chris's cheek in return and give a stretch, unable to refuse a dinner made for him. That quite literally never happens. ]
Naturally. When I think of places to nap, I always think jeffries tubes.
[ Honestly, Chris had been joking about the sleeping in the tube thing, but Loki's confirmation just seals his desire to make sure his idiot godling sleeps in an actual bed. Maybe it's because he's on the wrong side of forty, but the idea of sleeping on something not a mattress makes Chris's back hurt just thinking about it.
Reluctantly letting him go, he herds Loki towards the kitchen island, ignoring the dining table on the other side of the room; this is a casual dinner between friends-slash-lovers, not a formal Captain's Table meal. ]
Nothing fancy, I'm afraid. I don't really push the boat out when it's just me, so it's just carbonara tonight. [ Chris may or may not have eaten more than a few bites straight out of the pan as he was cooking it, so he's not even all that hungry any more, but he can at least fix a plate for Loki who's looking at him like he's done something miraculous instead of just mixed spaghetti with a béchamel and bacon. ]
[ Loki makes his way to island and hops up unhelpfully, legs dangling as he awaits his food. He looks more awake than he has since he was rescued from his own poor napping choices, the scent of bacon making his mouth water. Swallowing, he waits as patiently as he can, which isn't very but his stomach growling kind of ruins the well-behaved illusion. ]
The tubes have a heartbeat like that of the World Tree, your ship is practically alive.
[ Thankfully, fiddling with the stasis field under which his pan of pasta rests means he can hide his amused smile, but he's pretty sure it colors his voice regardless; it doesn't really matter all that much, in the end. Loki knows Chris is perpetually charmed by him, otherwise he wouldn't be standing in his kitchen plating his dinner.
Bringing the plate over, he sets it in front of Loki and then grates a few strokes of fresh parmesan on top before reaching into a drawer and retrieving a knife and fork. ]
There's more in the pan if you're still hungry after this. What do you mean they have a heartbeat?
[ If if didn't get Chris's attention he wouldn't sit on the countertop but it's a little victory to be told off for it, sliding liquidly onto a stool and sitting there expectantly. He doesn't have Thor's appetite yet pretending the meals in the messes have been enough has made him miss New York and vendors on every street corner.
He practically wriggles when his plate is set down with extra cheese on top, only briefly replying. ]
Some things live because they know we need them.
[ It's enigmatically annoying and he takes his first mouthful with a groan of gratitude.
Then he eats with all the gusto of a young man. Or god. ]
[ To be young again and have a young man's metabolism.
Chris watches Loki shovel pasta into his mouth, chuckling quietly, and rests his hand on the curve of his back for a moment before turning away to fix himself a less ambitious plate that he eats standing up, leaning against the counter by the sink so that when he's done with it he can just put it there to be dealt with later.
He places a glass of water in front of Loki's place setting, pointedly nudging it closer. ]
I'm from New York, I eat all day whenever I see someone selling something. There's no one to sit down with at a meal anymore, not since my best friend left.
[ Bacon bits are piled onto his pasta, picked out with his fork so he gets a lot, then shovelled in. ]
Call me old-fashioned, but I like sitting down to meals with friends and family.
[ Says the man currently standing to eat. Shh. It's different, he's just snacking, this isn't a proper meal. Just wait until breakfast. Then he'll sit to eat, probably still barefoot. ]
And luckily for you, the replicators can make just about anything if programmed correctly. I still like to cook the old-fashioned way, though. Tastes better.
[ Even though, mollecularly, the food is the same and also made from replicated ingredients more often than not. Chris still maintains you can tell the difference. ]
[ He's starting to get that picture, though Chris is still missing the full context of just what kind of culture Loki comes from. He'd definitely be interested to find out, though. ]
I don't think I've ever had boar, let alone boar roasted over an open fire. Sounds fun.
[ Chris tends to content himself with less grandiose meals. Chili, pasta, curries, barbecue... all regular human dishes designed to stick to your ribs and be shared among many. Finicky things like sushi are all well and good, and he's perfectly happy to eat them, but when it comes time to cook, he tends to go all out.
Finishing his own glass of water, he lifts his eyebrows at Loki and shrugs. ]
Considering I don't know what that is, I doubt it. But maybe.
[ Finishing his meal, he slides off his stool and goes for seconds since he was already offered. Alas, no immortality-granting apples will be made today! ]
It sounds fun until you get halfway into the night and everyone starts to think they're in Valhalla, challenging each other to drunken duels. I sing sometimes, if mother wishes it, but there's really no point after a certain hour.
[ He mirrors Chris by bumping up at his side, eating off his plate where he stands. ]
Chris, this is so good. You're twenty-percent even more attractive now.
Isn't that the best part of the party, though? The drunken carousing to round out the night?
[ Most of Chris's parties these days end in a nice glass of wine and maybe a few pieces of chocolate or stone fruit and then a quiet wind-down doing dishes by hand and reading in front of the fire before bed. He's too old for the kind of drunken carousing he got up to when he was Loki's age. Or...younger, at least. ]
I didn't know you could sing. Will you sing for me, some time?
[ When Loki comes up to stand beside him, bumping their hips together, Chris lets himself slide an arm around his waist and tuck him up against his side, tucking his fingertips in through the belt loop on the waist of his uniform trousers. ]
Only twenty percent? Damn. I'm going to have to work harder come breakfast.
[ Sounds like trouble, is what it really sounds like, but Chris has had to attend countless diplomatic dinners with foreign cultures across the galaxy, he likes to think he'll probably be able to handle himself just fine.
Obligingly sliding his hand down to cup Loki's ass as he wiggles in against him, Chris winks at him. ]
Finish your dinner. Breakfast will come in due time.
Okay, but, [ plate cleaned, he wipes his mouth with the back of a hand and laughs as he rests his forehead on Chris's temple, ] I don't feel incredibly sexy when stuffed with pasta.
[ Chuckling quietly, Chris uses the hand not busy palming Loki's backside to take the plate out of his hands and twists to deposit it in the sink, freeing it up to pat Loki on the stomach over his uniform shirt. ]
Does it make you feel incredibly sleepy? Carbs usually do that to me.
Yeaaah, yes. I haven't slept a lot since I got here.
[ He can go up to forty-eight hours without resting but he's starting to feel the strain on this, the fourth day. Thor could power through exhaustion but he's made of concrete and idiocy.
Chris gets a squint, then kisses that travel from one corner of his mouth to another. ]
This was your nefarious plan all along, wasn't it? Fill me up with carbonara, then get me all settled and bam! I wake up in a science lab, first god to be classified. I see through your evil ways, Christopher Pike ...
[ How lucky for them both, then, that the captain's quarters comes with such a comfortable bed.
He starts to try and gently herd Loki in the direction of his bedroom, accepting the kisses pressed to his lips and smiling through them as he maneuvers them around furniture towards his bedroom door. ]
Oh no. You've found me out. Whatever will I do now that I won't be able to squeeze you under a microscope all full of pasta and cheese?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Looking at his quarters as if through outside eyes, Chris can admit that yes, they are rather large. And gleaming in that way the newest starships usually are; a far cry from his home in Montana that clings to old-Earth traditions and is all dark wood and cold stone and a large, crackling hearth.
Maybe having an open fireplace on board is foolish, but Chris likes it, and besides, it's got a protective screen around it. A protective screen that is invisible until bumped into, but still. He's not just throwing flames around willy-nilly in the middle of his living room.
That's reserved for the kitchen, with the old-fashioned stovetop and grill. ]
Don't blame me for this. I didn't design this ship, I just live here.
[ He's grinning, though, pleased by the delight Loki's showing as he peers around corners and looks into cabinets, examining the space that Chris has slowly turned from sterile quarters into something that does, actually, feel like home. ]
Are you hungry?
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His voice lowers to a thoughtful hum and his lips catch on Chris's, swaying on the spot to take in the feel of him. ]
Hungry how?
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He lifts his chin a little to deepen their kiss just slightly, just enough to enjoy it. ]
I told you not to worry about dinner because I already made it. Before I went to find you.
[ Assuming Loki hasn't eaten since their confrontation in the mess hall, he's probably starting to feel a tad peckish. ]
But if you had something else in mind...
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[ That really is the last thing he expects, given the way Loki blanches. A moment after looking Chris over he wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him deeply, a desperate need to have this man's bodyheat on him again now rolling tenfold through his blood and ensnaring him by the ribs, arching into Chris's weight. He wants his hands in that greying hair, under his shirt, all over him, it doesn't matter as long as Loki can moan with the taste of him on his tongue. ]
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[ Is that really so strange? He's a grown man, and while yes, admittedly, he has spent his entire adult life employed in an organization that provides food for its employees fully-cooked and ready to eat, he has to fend for himself sometimes.
Plus, he likes to do it. It's enjoyable, stress-relief.
He's distracted from his confusion by Loki all but launching himself at him, though, licking into his mouth and clutching at him like he's been lost at sea and Chris is the first buoyant object he's found in days.
Sliding his hands up and down Loki's back, Chris hums. ] Easy, baby, I'm here.
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... Thanks.
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Of course. [ He continues to stroke one hand up and down Loki's back with the same sure pressure he uses when soothing one of his horses, before he turns his chin and drops a peck to his temple. ]
C'mon, sweet thing. Let's get some food in you and then you can sleep in a place that isn't a jeffries tube.
[ The idea of taking Loki and throwing him down on one of Chris's sofas is definitely appealing, but they've both had a long day, and sometimes you just need to sit down and eat a plate of pasta before you can face anything else. ]
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I was just resting my eyes in there ...
[ But he'll drop a kiss back on Chris's cheek in return and give a stretch, unable to refuse a dinner made for him. That quite literally never happens. ]
What are we having for dinner?
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[ Honestly, Chris had been joking about the sleeping in the tube thing, but Loki's confirmation just seals his desire to make sure his idiot godling sleeps in an actual bed. Maybe it's because he's on the wrong side of forty, but the idea of sleeping on something not a mattress makes Chris's back hurt just thinking about it.
Reluctantly letting him go, he herds Loki towards the kitchen island, ignoring the dining table on the other side of the room; this is a casual dinner between friends-slash-lovers, not a formal Captain's Table meal. ]
Nothing fancy, I'm afraid. I don't really push the boat out when it's just me, so it's just carbonara tonight. [ Chris may or may not have eaten more than a few bites straight out of the pan as he was cooking it, so he's not even all that hungry any more, but he can at least fix a plate for Loki who's looking at him like he's done something miraculous instead of just mixed spaghetti with a béchamel and bacon. ]
Go on, sit.
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The tubes have a heartbeat like that of the World Tree, your ship is practically alive.
[ BaconBaconBaconBaconBacon. ]
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On a stool, young man.
[ Thankfully, fiddling with the stasis field under which his pan of pasta rests means he can hide his amused smile, but he's pretty sure it colors his voice regardless; it doesn't really matter all that much, in the end. Loki knows Chris is perpetually charmed by him, otherwise he wouldn't be standing in his kitchen plating his dinner.
Bringing the plate over, he sets it in front of Loki and then grates a few strokes of fresh parmesan on top before reaching into a drawer and retrieving a knife and fork. ]
There's more in the pan if you're still hungry after this. What do you mean they have a heartbeat?
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He practically wriggles when his plate is set down with extra cheese on top, only briefly replying. ]
Some things live because they know we need them.
[ It's enigmatically annoying and he takes his first mouthful with a groan of gratitude.
Then he eats with all the gusto of a young man. Or god. ]
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Chris watches Loki shovel pasta into his mouth, chuckling quietly, and rests his hand on the curve of his back for a moment before turning away to fix himself a less ambitious plate that he eats standing up, leaning against the counter by the sink so that when he's done with it he can just put it there to be dealt with later.
He places a glass of water in front of Loki's place setting, pointedly nudging it closer. ]
Remember to breathe between bites, please.
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I'm from New York, I eat all day whenever I see someone selling something. There's no one to sit down with at a meal anymore, not since my best friend left.
[ Bacon bits are piled onto his pasta, picked out with his fork so he gets a lot, then shovelled in. ]
She didn't cook, though.
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[ Says the man currently standing to eat. Shh. It's different, he's just snacking, this isn't a proper meal. Just wait until breakfast. Then he'll sit to eat, probably still barefoot. ]
And luckily for you, the replicators can make just about anything if programmed correctly. I still like to cook the old-fashioned way, though. Tastes better.
[ Even though, mollecularly, the food is the same and also made from replicated ingredients more often than not. Chris still maintains you can tell the difference. ]
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[ Those space-Vikings party hard. ]
Could the replicator make me a golden apple of Idunn?
[ Mischief!! Brows waggle, hinting it would be best if not. ]
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I don't think I've ever had boar, let alone boar roasted over an open fire. Sounds fun.
[ Chris tends to content himself with less grandiose meals. Chili, pasta, curries, barbecue... all regular human dishes designed to stick to your ribs and be shared among many. Finicky things like sushi are all well and good, and he's perfectly happy to eat them, but when it comes time to cook, he tends to go all out.
Finishing his own glass of water, he lifts his eyebrows at Loki and shrugs. ]
Considering I don't know what that is, I doubt it. But maybe.
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It sounds fun until you get halfway into the night and everyone starts to think they're in Valhalla, challenging each other to drunken duels. I sing sometimes, if mother wishes it, but there's really no point after a certain hour.
[ He mirrors Chris by bumping up at his side, eating off his plate where he stands. ]
Chris, this is so good. You're twenty-percent even more attractive now.
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[ Most of Chris's parties these days end in a nice glass of wine and maybe a few pieces of chocolate or stone fruit and then a quiet wind-down doing dishes by hand and reading in front of the fire before bed. He's too old for the kind of drunken carousing he got up to when he was Loki's age. Or...younger, at least. ]
I didn't know you could sing. Will you sing for me, some time?
[ When Loki comes up to stand beside him, bumping their hips together, Chris lets himself slide an arm around his waist and tuck him up against his side, tucking his fingertips in through the belt loop on the waist of his uniform trousers. ]
Only twenty percent? Damn. I'm going to have to work harder come breakfast.
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[ It's both a terrible and hilarious idea. Captured, he leans against him and gives a wiggle under that hand so it has a booty to chase. ]
I love breakfast meats. [ A mock-serious look pins Chris in place. ] Please do not play with my heart like that, I will not survive.
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[ Sounds like trouble, is what it really sounds like, but Chris has had to attend countless diplomatic dinners with foreign cultures across the galaxy, he likes to think he'll probably be able to handle himself just fine.
Obligingly sliding his hand down to cup Loki's ass as he wiggles in against him, Chris winks at him. ]
Finish your dinner. Breakfast will come in due time.
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Does it make you feel incredibly sleepy? Carbs usually do that to me.
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[ He can go up to forty-eight hours without resting but he's starting to feel the strain on this, the fourth day. Thor could power through exhaustion but he's made of concrete and idiocy.
Chris gets a squint, then kisses that travel from one corner of his mouth to another. ]
This was your nefarious plan all along, wasn't it? Fill me up with carbonara, then get me all settled and bam! I wake up in a science lab, first god to be classified. I see through your evil ways, Christopher Pike ...
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[ How lucky for them both, then, that the captain's quarters comes with such a comfortable bed.
He starts to try and gently herd Loki in the direction of his bedroom, accepting the kisses pressed to his lips and smiling through them as he maneuvers them around furniture towards his bedroom door. ]
Oh no. You've found me out. Whatever will I do now that I won't be able to squeeze you under a microscope all full of pasta and cheese?
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