[ The saddle glows, disappears, and Sleipnir casually steps over the paddock fence with all eight legs working in unison like a very odd, smoothly mechanised centipede. Once inside he shakes out his mane and dips his head back over to nose at the front of Chris's jacket, as if to rub off some of the dewdrops and assist in their mutual fibbing cover. ]
[ He forgot, for a moment, whose son Sleipnir is. It stands to reason that if Loki can materialize and dematerialize clothing whenever he likes, his children can manage that too.
The nuzzling at his chest has him huffing another soft laugh, fond and almost indulgent, and he lets himself stroke his hand down the long slope of Sleipnir's nose, scrabbling under his forelock for good measure. ]
[ Lipping at the hem of Chris's coat passes for goodbye, and he turns away after a good scratch to his nose. The neigh Sleipnir gives echoes up to the house where the kitchen light grows brighter in return, porch-lights flicking on in anticipation of an arrival.
Up at the house, a warm drop atop the cooling evening landscape, the whole place smells like roast meat and vegetables, the figure of Loki able to be seen moving around inside to something on the radio as he plates up their dinner. ]
[ Walking up the hill with cloud-cold air still chilling his lungs, Chris finds himself whistling as he goes, drawn to the warm lights spilling out of the many large windows of his house like a moth to a flame.
Toeing out of his boots and shrugging out of his jacket, he leaves the former on the deck and drapes the latter over the back of a chair as he lets himself inside, taking a deep breath to appreciate the smell of cooking and the soft sound of music playing. ]
Honey, I'm home.
[ Loki looking all domestic as he fixes them both plates of food is simply too tempting to resist, so Chris lets himself step in close and wrap his arms around that trim waist, leaning up against Loki's back and kissing his neck as he peers over his shoulder to see what he's doing. ]
[ Throwing a smile over a shoulder as Chris returns, he lifts his arms to accept the incoming hug and makes a surprised noise ("Egods!") to find him so cold. Loki, by comparison, is all but toasty from his cookery adventures, and he half-twists around to give Chris a curious once-over. ]
[ Mist counts as rain, right? And clouds are just chunky mist. It's fine. It's not technically a lie.
He ducks his head to press his cold nose in to the crook of Loki's neck, humming happily and squeezing him lightly, enjoying the contrast in temperature that usually goes the other way. So often the first time Loki touches him after a separation feel like touching a marble statue, it's nice to have something toasty warm to cuddle up against. ]
Nyaargh. [ A very gainly squark as he twists away playfully from the nuzzle, plating up a bowl of roast veg. ] Very well, keep your secrets since the weather here was dry as a bone. Will you please get changed? You're a slimy, cold slug of a man!
[ Since the squawk was so amusing, Chris lets himself reach for Loki again, trying to drag him back into his arms and laughing at the way he resists his affections. He's not even that wet, not any more. His jacket took the brunt of it, though his jeans are starting to feel uncomfortable and his hair could use a bit of a toweling.
Still laughing, he capitulates and wanders away, disappearing for a minute to go to his room to change, scrubbing a towel over his hair but not bothering to comb it back into its usual style. He reemerges dressed as comfortably as Loki was, in soft athletic joggers and an old Academy t-shirt, the print faded and stretched out after all these years, the seam at the neck starting to fray, well-loved and comfortable. ]
[ Laughing as Chris pesters him with his chilly nose and hands, he waves him away. By the time he returns, Loki has set out their dinner and a huge leg of roast boar is still sizzling on its long plate next to the remaining bowl of vegetables, gravy, and other otherworldly sauces too (spicy plums?). Wine fills their glasses, the bottle emblazoned with an elven vintage that smells like berries and smoke. He has already done Chris the curtesy of piling some meat onto his plate, shaved off with the knife vertically sticking out of the haunch.
Loki gives him an approving nod, holding out a hand for him at the table. ]
Just about, my mysterious cowboy. Come and eat, I made an Asgardian meal to fill you up.
[ Looking at the spread Loki's created for them, Chris almost asks what the occasion is, but then he holds his tongue. Being invited to someone's home for the first time feels like as good an occasion as any, meeting someone's child for the first time, too, any number of things could be the reason Loki's made such an effort to impress. Now Chris feels like his offering of slow-oven chili and quick-rise bread was paltry in comparison. He'll just have to make an impressive breakfast to make up for it later.
Sitting where he's been told, he lets himself admire everything in front of him without trying to mitigate his expression. ] This looks incredible. Smells it, too. Thank you, sweetheart.
Well, I can't take you to Asgard for the time being so it seemed sensible to bring Asgard to you. Help yourself. Whatever we don't eat we can toss to Sleipnir.
[ He sits not opposite Chris but on the end of the table, wanting to be closer. Loki eyes him curiously as he starts tucking in. ]
For the time being? [ Perhaps normally he might not have asked for clarification there, but they're close enough, he thinks he can be allowed a little curiosity. Plus, he's learned to be wary of Loki's plotting and planning, and it is better to be even slightly prepared for what's ahead. ] It's not like a Jotunheim thing, is it? I won't freeze to death the second I set foot there?
[ Chris happily helps himself to the food in front of them, taking a bite of the meat on his plate and making a somewhat indecent noise in response as the flavors burst across his tongue. It smells good, but it tastes even better, and it would seem that flying through the clouds on the back of a nine foot tall horse is hungry work. ]
He was very good. Only gave me a minor heart attack once.
No, no, it's more that I stabbed my mother in the back with a poisoned blade and she's still a little touchy about that. Also my brother is king, which is, yeah.
[ Maybe let the drama cool off a little before dragging his new boyfriend around. ]
[ His eyebrows lift at that little tidbit of family drama, though he doesn't ask the why? that he wants to. He knows enough about Loki to know that there's layers upon layers of history for every decision he makes, ever action taken, and there are some things that either aren't his business or that he's not quite sure he wants to know. Not yet, anyway. ]
Well. I don't know many royal families personally, but from what I've read about them, that doesn't seem to be too far off-base.
[ Does that make you feel better, Loki?
He studiously busies himself with a large mouthful of roast vegetables to postpone answering. ]
Let's just say he goes quite a bit faster than the horses I'm used to.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Right. Never mind, then.
[ He forgot, for a moment, whose son Sleipnir is. It stands to reason that if Loki can materialize and dematerialize clothing whenever he likes, his children can manage that too.
The nuzzling at his chest has him huffing another soft laugh, fond and almost indulgent, and he lets himself stroke his hand down the long slope of Sleipnir's nose, scrabbling under his forelock for good measure. ]
Thanks, buddy.
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Up at the house, a warm drop atop the cooling evening landscape, the whole place smells like roast meat and vegetables, the figure of Loki able to be seen moving around inside to something on the radio as he plates up their dinner. ]
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Toeing out of his boots and shrugging out of his jacket, he leaves the former on the deck and drapes the latter over the back of a chair as he lets himself inside, taking a deep breath to appreciate the smell of cooking and the soft sound of music playing. ]
Honey, I'm home.
[ Loki looking all domestic as he fixes them both plates of food is simply too tempting to resist, so Chris lets himself step in close and wrap his arms around that trim waist, leaning up against Loki's back and kissing his neck as he peers over his shoulder to see what he's doing. ]
You know, I think I could get used to this.
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Was it raining? You're wet! And chilly.
[ SEEMS SUS. ]
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[ Mist counts as rain, right? And clouds are just chunky mist. It's fine. It's not technically a lie.
He ducks his head to press his cold nose in to the crook of Loki's neck, humming happily and squeezing him lightly, enjoying the contrast in temperature that usually goes the other way. So often the first time Loki touches him after a separation feel like touching a marble statue, it's nice to have something toasty warm to cuddle up against. ]
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[ Since the squawk was so amusing, Chris lets himself reach for Loki again, trying to drag him back into his arms and laughing at the way he resists his affections. He's not even that wet, not any more. His jacket took the brunt of it, though his jeans are starting to feel uncomfortable and his hair could use a bit of a toweling.
Still laughing, he capitulates and wanders away, disappearing for a minute to go to his room to change, scrubbing a towel over his hair but not bothering to comb it back into its usual style. He reemerges dressed as comfortably as Loki was, in soft athletic joggers and an old Academy t-shirt, the print faded and stretched out after all these years, the seam at the neck starting to fray, well-loved and comfortable. ]
There. Do I pass muster now?
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Loki gives him an approving nod, holding out a hand for him at the table. ]
Just about, my mysterious cowboy. Come and eat, I made an Asgardian meal to fill you up.
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[ Looking at the spread Loki's created for them, Chris almost asks what the occasion is, but then he holds his tongue. Being invited to someone's home for the first time feels like as good an occasion as any, meeting someone's child for the first time, too, any number of things could be the reason Loki's made such an effort to impress. Now Chris feels like his offering of slow-oven chili and quick-rise bread was paltry in comparison. He'll just have to make an impressive breakfast to make up for it later.
Sitting where he's been told, he lets himself admire everything in front of him without trying to mitigate his expression. ] This looks incredible. Smells it, too. Thank you, sweetheart.
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[ He sits not opposite Chris but on the end of the table, wanting to be closer. Loki eyes him curiously as he starts tucking in. ]
How was your ride together? Did he play nice?
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[ Chris happily helps himself to the food in front of them, taking a bite of the meat on his plate and making a somewhat indecent noise in response as the flavors burst across his tongue. It smells good, but it tastes even better, and it would seem that flying through the clouds on the back of a nine foot tall horse is hungry work. ]
He was very good. Only gave me a minor heart attack once.
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[ Maybe let the drama cool off a little before dragging his new boyfriend around. ]
Oh, why was that?
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Well. I don't know many royal families personally, but from what I've read about them, that doesn't seem to be too far off-base.
[ Does that make you feel better, Loki?
He studiously busies himself with a large mouthful of roast vegetables to postpone answering. ]
Let's just say he goes quite a bit faster than the horses I'm used to.