Work Text:
Sometimes, life just sucked. Work would get overwhelming, the hours would be longer than usual because your boss would ask for extra work, extra hours, extra of what felt like your actual soul.
After a long day like that, in the middle of winter, all you could need was a big traffic jam because of the incoming storm and people rushing to get home, thus causing you to get home even later.
And what's better than getting home to your godly partner lounging on your couch like an actual cat? There was truly no way Loki could be comfortable in that position, but it was likely a case of him trying to spite his own body to prove to himself that he was still a spry, centuries old god.
"Oh, my darling, good..." He says, looking up from his book.
Gods knew what he was reading now. He went through books like nothing else.
"Hi, sorry... boss held me back, and then traffic..." You huff, finally walking into your apartment, finding solace in the fact that it smelled like Loki again.
He'd been back for a few days now, after a typical absence in Asgard. He'd gotten quicker and quicker when it came to making himself comfortable in your home at every one of his returns, which reflected his trust in you and your relationship. It warmed your heart to be able to see parts of him reflected in the baubles and trinkets around your place. You supposed it was the first time he'd felt like this with someone. Or, you hoped he did. All you truly wanted was for the person you loved with all your heart to feel safe with you.
"Mmm... that man is a heathen, truly, to keep you away from me. He's trying to break us apart." Loki announces with a sigh, finally sitting up from his unnatural position.
He nearly yelps when a few cracks are heard from his bones. He tries to hide it by brushing off his clothes and offering you a grin when he finally, fully faces you.
"My darling..." His grin turns into a pout. "My darling, you look exhausted... we must rectify this, yes? Seeing as you've rendered a Prince of Asgard to being your servant on this mortal land, I suppose I can draw you a bath. At your own possible expense." He walks over to you as he speaks (and warns you), pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Are you offering to spare some of your expensive products for me?" You tease, though your tiredness can't seem to evade you even then.
Nonetheless, Loki frowns briefly and then sighs almost sadly, looking towards the bathroom longingly.
"... The things I do for love..." He says with another morose sigh. Always the dramatic. Always.
Minutes later, you're in your bath, enjoying Loki's efforts. He'd made some lovely bubbles and poured in a few of his favourite oils (a few he'd gotten on Midgard and a few straight from Asgard). You relished in the fact that you'd end up smelling like him.
One of his proudest achievements when he'd first started living with you more regularly had been learning how to make his own bubble bath without his usual servants on Asgard. Even now, after the thrill of that achievement had long since gone away (or so you'd thought), he looked at you with his chin held high, clearly awaiting praise. He'd also brought in your drink of choice, handing it to you whenever you asked. He didn’t seem to hate being your so called ‘servant’ as much as he’d insinuated.
"I'm surprised you haven't joined me yet," You say eventually, whilst you rest the back of your head against the tub.
"Why would I, my love? Do you estimate that I'll have to save you from drowning? If you are so close to falling asleep-"
"No, Loki... I meant that I'm surprised you haven't tried to seduce me. I'm quite literally already naked, and I was expecting at least one thinly veiled innuendo."
"Are you trying to imply that I am... what is the term? ... 'Falling off'?" The way he says that, in a way that clearly illustrates how foreign that expression is to him, gets a quick laugh out of you.
"No... 'losing your edge' would be more appropriate here. But neither thing is happening to you, love."
He seems to get some of his swagger back (it had never left) at your answer.
“Well… of course. In any case, though, beloved… you look, well.. awful. Awfully tired.” He catches himself at the end, offering a charming grin. “I believe that even my unending charms could not seduce you enough to spend a night of passion with yours truly. But worry not… I, and my perfect body, will retain our dignity for one more night.”
With a dramatic sigh matching his own, you motion for him to bring your drink closer to your mouth so that you might take a sip. He seems unamused this time.