[ Chris is a generous pourer when it comes to alcohol, and tonight is no different; the glass he slides across the table sloshes appealingly, as does his own when he sets it down by his plate after taking a sip. ]
I'm all icy. Watery. [ Maybe the former, not the latter. Loki takes a big swig of his wine, licking his lips. ] I'm wondering if you're trying to get me drunk.
Nibbling on a spear of grilled zucchini, he raises his eyebrows across the table and nudges Loki's glass a little closer the instant he sets it down. ]
[ He shouldn't be surprised to see the way Loki can refill the half-empty bottle, considering everything else he's seen Loki do, but it still startles a little laugh out of him. ]
Now it looks like you're trying to get me drunk.
[ He shrugs, leaning back in his seat, swirling the liquid in his glass insolently. ]
[ Chris just flicks a piece of vegetable at him before tucking back into his dinner. It's been a weird, long day, and he wound up skipping lunch so he's quite hungry. ]
You're thousands of years old, you don't need an atmo-suit to stand on the hull of my ship, and you're apparently a frost giant, to boot. I don't think you need me to teach you about space, baby.
[ Chris continues to eat like absolutely nothing untoward is happening, watching Loki with faintly-raised eyebrows over their meal as he slides his foot up Chris's leg under the table. ]
Is this performance part of the apologetic mashed potatoes?
[ The pouting act has lost a little of its bite after such prolonged exposure, but Chris still plays along regardless, clicking his tongue and affecting a contrite frown that still doesn't quite hide the mirthful glitter of his eyes. ]
Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart.
[ Pushing out his chair slightly to make space between him and the table, he splays his legs a little and opens his arm, inviting. ]
[ Laughter bubbles up and he whines plaintively, reaching for his wine glass to finish it off instead of reaching for Chris. He can hide behind it, it's very useful. ]
[ He's having more of it, CLUNK. Oops, that hit the rim of his glass a little hard, doesn't stop him filling it though. Yikes. Greedily, he pulls it toward him and sips noisily. ]
Maybe I'm too [ ... oh, what's the word, ignore the pause, ] complex to be taken in by this hustle of yours. Hustler, I say!
[ His shoulders shake a little with suppressed laughter, watching Loki fumble pouring himself another very impressively-full glass. That he uses both hands to lift it to his face just underscores that he poured about half the bottle into his glass even as he slurps it down.
Chris takes a slow and staid sip of his own glass and tries to keep his smirking to a minimum. ]
I don't think expressing my very real thoughts and feelings counts as a hustle, does it?
[ Those wide eyes aren't fooling anyone, Christopher, not even the flustered godling across the table who's apparently well on his way to getting tipsy. ]
Would it be a hustle if I told you how pretty you look right now?
[ He sticks his nose in the air, nodding imperiously for Chris to go on. It's been a long day full of sharks and confessions, and Loki wants nothing more than to flirt with his maybe-boyfriend. ]
[ Idly spearing the last grilled vegetable on his plate, Chris makes a big show of lifting his fork and nibbling on the food caught on its tines before leaning back in his chair. ]
Unfortunately, it turns out I can only whisper the truth, so if you want to hear any more...
[ He pats his thigh again, lifting his eyebrows. ]
[ Loki brings his drink with him as he slides off his seat and sprawls up against him, leaning there with mutiny in his affectionate wriggling as he gets comfortable. ]
[ Hiding his triumphant smile against the thin skin under Loki's ear, Chris hums his satisfaction and loops one arm around Loki's middle to help steady him as he settles himself in Chris's lap. ]
That shark got opposable thumbs I don't know about?
[ Because Chris sure has some, as he so aptly demonstrates by smoothing his hand up Loki's front in a slow, proprietary caress, letting his hand settle on on his chest so he can brush his thumb over his nipple so slowly and absently it could almost be imagined as a mistake.
[ Opening his mouth to reply, whatever he wants to say dies into a squeak as he shivers under the caress; twitches away, ticklish, and brings his arm down in front of himself with his wine in tow to block Chris doing that again.
The red of the alcohol stains his cheeks, in its own way. ]
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You know I'm a frost giant, right? Did I mention that?
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You've mentioned a lot of things.
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[ Even Chris's pours aren't that generous.
Nibbling on a spear of grilled zucchini, he raises his eyebrows across the table and nudges Loki's glass a little closer the instant he sets it down. ]
Maybe I am.
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[ He taps the bottle and it refills itself, a wicked grin brightening his eyes. ]
Where did the officer and gentleman from the market go?
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Now it looks like you're trying to get me drunk.
[ He shrugs, leaning back in his seat, swirling the liquid in his glass insolently. ]
What can I say? I contain multitudes.
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[ Laughter bubbles into his wine as he leans away, trying to avoid any retaliation. ]
Teach me about spaaace.
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You're thousands of years old, you don't need an atmo-suit to stand on the hull of my ship, and you're apparently a frost giant, to boot. I don't think you need me to teach you about space, baby.
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[ Draaaagging his shin up Chris's leg! Innocent eyes rest on him over their dinner. ]
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Is this performance part of the apologetic mashed potatoes?
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[ How dare!! ]
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Oh, is that what this is? Interesting.
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If you're going to be rude I'll go and sleep back in a vent.
[ 100% will not do that. ]
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Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart.
[ Pushing out his chair slightly to make space between him and the table, he splays his legs a little and opens his arm, inviting. ]
Come here.
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He says very clearly, ] No.
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[ He's spotted those gripping fingers, Loki, the whites of his knuckles shining through his already-pale skin.
Time for a little pout of his own. ]
Are you sure? [ He pats his thigh and holds out his arm again. ] Daddy's feeling awfully lonely, baby. Come help me feel better.
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That's not fair outside the bedroom!
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But I miss you.
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[ He's having more of it, CLUNK. Oops, that hit the rim of his glass a little hard, doesn't stop him filling it though. Yikes. Greedily, he pulls it toward him and sips noisily. ]
Maybe I'm too [ ... oh, what's the word, ignore the pause, ] complex to be taken in by this hustle of yours. Hustler, I say!
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Chris takes a slow and staid sip of his own glass and tries to keep his smirking to a minimum. ]
I don't think expressing my very real thoughts and feelings counts as a hustle, does it?
[ Those wide eyes aren't fooling anyone, Christopher, not even the flustered godling across the table who's apparently well on his way to getting tipsy. ]
Would it be a hustle if I told you how pretty you look right now?
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[ He sticks his nose in the air, nodding imperiously for Chris to go on. It's been a long day full of sharks and confessions, and Loki wants nothing more than to flirt with his maybe-boyfriend. ]
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Unfortunately, it turns out I can only whisper the truth, so if you want to hear any more...
[ He pats his thigh again, lifting his eyebrows. ]
You'll have to come closer.
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[ Loki brings his drink with him as he slides off his seat and sprawls up against him, leaning there with mutiny in his affectionate wriggling as he gets comfortable. ]
I'm going to tell that shark I accept.
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That shark got opposable thumbs I don't know about?
[ Because Chris sure has some, as he so aptly demonstrates by smoothing his hand up Loki's front in a slow, proprietary caress, letting his hand settle on on his chest so he can brush his thumb over his nipple so slowly and absently it could almost be imagined as a mistake.
He takes another sip of his wine. ]
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The red of the alcohol stains his cheeks, in its own way. ]
You behave.
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