300(ish) words a day challenge: fashion, part 1 (all parts)
Loki adjusts his cuffs and heads to the sales floor, his winning smile – the one that’s helped him keep his status as first in sales for three years running – firmly in place. As he approaches his prospective client, though, it takes sheer force of will to keep it there.
The man sprawled on the chaise (and taking up more than half of it) looks like he’s just crawled out of the back of a stoner van - sloppily dressed in a dingy baja pullover and shorts with so many clashing neon colors that they’re obnoxious. His bare legs lead to down equally bare feet resting on top of (not even in) a pair of bright blue flip-flops.
This is his client? Sweet baby Jesus…
Loki stops short, pulls out his phone and types out a quick text to Darcy –
cancel my morning. special case.
– to which she pings back,
yeah i saw… he’s cute tho
Loki shakes his head as he puts the device away and resumes his advance. As he gets closer, he discovers that not only are the guy’s long blond locks wet and dripping, but the soft pretzel he’s eating (really?) is covered in bright yellow mustard…and is also dripping.
Loki smiles hard enough to grind his white, capped teeth.
The man doesn’t respond, his blond head bopping along to whatever is being piped into the tiny red buds plugged into his ears.
Loki clears his throat and tries again, a little louder. “Mr. Odinson?” He leans forward, careful not to get within distance of his mustardy nightmare, and taps him on the shoulder. “Sir?”
The man startles and looks up with the bluest eyes Loki has ever seen in real life.
“Oh! Hey, shit- sorry! Hang on, just let me…” The guy yanks the earbuds out; the music continues to pipe through them as he shoves them into his pocket. He stuffs the last piece of his pretzel into his mouth - it’s really too big for one bite, but that doesn’t seem to stop him, chewing quickly and then swallowing the whole thing in one loud, painful-looking gulp.
He stands up and- glory, he’s tall. And broad. And- Loki’s brief flutter of oh wow settles as he watches the guy lick leftover smears of mustard off his fingers.
300 words a day challenge: fashion, part 2 (all parts)
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“Mr. Odinson?” Loki asks. He’s not sure if he wants this to be his client or not.
“That’s me.” The guy extends his hand. “Thor. Good to meet you.” He smiles and, despite the faint yellow staining on his teeth, Loki has to admit - it’s a very nice smile.
Loki accepts the offered greeting and does a commendable job of not looking nauseated as his hand is gripped in a warm, firm, moist handshake. “Nice to meet you, too,” he says smoothly as he takes his hand back, resisting the temptation to reach for his pocket square. “I’m Loki Laufeyson, fashion director here at Verchiel. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
Thor’s (blue, blue) eyes widen. “Wow. I know I’m no fashion plate, but I didn’t think they’d bring out the big guns.” He leans in a little closer, smelling like the sea. “Be honest. Am I that bad?”
Loki tilts his head. Best to be diplomatic, he decides. “Nothing that I can’t handle. People come here when they want to be dressed by the best and, without question, that is me.”
“All that and modest, too.”
“Not a lot of room for fake humility in my line of work,” Loki explains. “You’ll humble yourself right out of a job.”
“I can’t see that happening. I mean,” Thor gestures to Loki’s clothes with (big, strong) hands, “You look great.”
“I, um.” Loki feels his cheeks heat up, much to his surprise. He’s never had a problem taking a compliment (and he gets them often), but Thor’s straightforward appraisal is…affecting. “Thank you,” he says finally. “What brings you in today?”
Thor smiles again. “Well, I need a suit for a wedding.”
“Ah, our specialty. All right then.” Loki rubs his hands together. “Let’s get started.”