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little-kitten-mittens-fic · 2 years

Text

the hairbrush

pairing: regressor!loki & caregiver!tesseract (aka space)

summary: Loki could be surprisingly shy. The hairbrush had become a sort of secret signal between them, an unspoken rule that if he needed her, he didn’t have to say a word. All he had to do was bring her the brush, and she would be there.

content warnings: light angst, food/baking

word count: 2k

read it on ao3 here! 💚💚💚

Loki came up to her quietly, feet hardly making a sound. His steps were quiet and unrushed, muffled by his socked feet, though not as quiet as they could be if he were truly attempting to sneak up on her.

Space set down her notebook immediately, attention turning to him.

The hairbrush was in his hand.

Loki could be surprisingly shy. In that moment he stood straight and stiff, the clear sign of adult headspace in contrast to his simultaneously unsure demeanor.

His body stayed still even as he shifted the brush partially behind him.

Loki hadn’t slipped into his younger headspace intentionally in a while. He still needed help slipping, but he had the tendency to constantly ignore his needs, preferring to put it off until he absolutely had to. He would wait until his body forced him to drop into headspace and the cycle would repeat. He had only come to her before that point a few times now, and she preferred it to happen on his terms, but he rarely allowed himself to.

Space couldn't help worrying.

In this inbetween headspace, Loki tended to struggle for words. Space wasn’t sure why he hated being at a loss for words with such vigor, though she had suspicions as to what had occurred in the past to hurt him. She was not sure who was to blame for this particular struggle of his, but she was sure it was not a habit that would develop on its own.

She knew his moniker was Silvertongue for good reason; Loki was clever and could talk his way out of anything.

Perhaps therein laid the problem- this was new and unfamiliar territory for him (or worse, it was a familiar feeling for him and with it brought back memories).

She preferred to know who it was she should direct her anger, though now was not the time. She didn't know what she was doing or how to help him.

The hairbrush had become a sort of secret signal between them, an unspoken rule that if he needed her, he didn’t have to say a word. All he had to do was bring her the brush.

And he had brought it to her.

The look in his eyes was plenty indication of what he wanted, what he knew he was asking for. And yet there was an edge to his nervous pleading gaze, something more than vulnerability bleeding through his air of false-confidence.

Fear . Like he knew what the result would be and he was afraid to show his feelings. He was afraid of asking for help and being sent away.

Being sent away, as he was evidently used to.

Space smiled despite herself, not wanting her anger to show in her expression. Because despite that fear he still came to her.

Still, the fact that she could see it, the fact that she knew Loki allowing her to see it was less a show of trust, and more an indication that Loki had gotten to the point of desperation.

Space hoped there would come a day when Loki felt he could come to her before he got to this point. A day when that fear was no longer even present, he could ask for help and know it would always be given to him.

She tried to ignore her thoughts and focus on the current.

Space beckoned him and Loki stepped closer, crouching to sit on the floor, somehow in a graceful manner, where she had motioned.

Space silently took the brush from his hand, pausing when she caught sight of his hair. What had previously been hidden by a glamor was the fact that his hair was knotted in thick tangles, like he had not brushed it in days.

Space sighed. She swore he did this on purpose sometimes.

“Would you get the comb for me, Loki?”

Loki stood quickly, darting off around the corner in the direction of the bathroom vanity. She grabbed the hair oil from her bedside table, sitting back down as Loki returned with the comb.

Loki paused in the doorway and made a face at the sight of the bottle in her hands.

“Don’t start; I will wash it out later,” she said teasingly. She patted the space in front of her, and after a moment's hesitation he sat down.

She started to separate his hair, gradually applying the oil to the worst of the strands and gently picking out tangles. It took several minutes, and a bit of her own seidr energy, before it was detangled enough to brush. By this point Loki’s rigid form was beginning to ease.

In a rhythmic motion, Space continued to glide the brush across his strands.

Loki’s fingers fell from his lap and he started pressing his fingers against his knees, bunching up the fabric of his pant legs.

She paused, an idea forming in her mind. She continued to comb his hair into separate sections, pulling back a portion of his hair.

Space started to braid his hair so the strands would be out of the way. Loki began to go completely lax against her, humming in contentment, and by the time she was finished, she was holding him up almost entirely.

She winced, and tugged gently on the braids in an unsuccessful attempt to straighten them. The two small plaits were a bit lopsided, and Loki would probably hate it if he looked in the mirror. The first time she had attempted to do Loki’s hair, he had started crying, and though that was not the only reason for his upset, Space had no desire to repeat the experience.

She didn’t think she had to worry about that for a while though. Loki’s eyes were mostly shut as he blinked slowly. She brushed her fingers against the lines of his forehead, his eyelashes fluttering as his face scrunched at the touch. He blinked before opening his eyes fully. He looked unfairly adorable for being half-asleep.

“You ready to get up?”

“Mm mm,” he hummed in disagreement. Space decided to carry him instead, and easily lifted him up from under his arms, scooping him up until he was settled against her. He nuzzled against her neck, arms folded as he leaned closer.

She carried him to the kitchen as he clung to her tunic. Loki made a soft noise.

“What is it?”

“Sleepy.”

Space huffed to hold back a laugh. “Are you now? You can nap later, sweetheart.”

She nudged a chair out with her foot and went to set Loki down on it. He clung to her for a moment before letting himself be put down. He rubbed at his face with his knuckles and started kicking his sock-covered feet.

Space summoned his favorite bat toy and handed it to him before he ended up scratching his eyes with his sharp fingernails. (She really did not want a repeat of that experience either).

Immediately he started playing with one of the soft toy’s wings, the other wing gradually making its way into his mouth.

“How about we make something sweet, hm? I’m sure we can figure out how to bake something…”

He miraculously perked up at the idea of sweets, suddenly more awake.

Space searched for a recipe on her tablet, having learned by this point it was far easier to follow a video than a book with printed instructions. As she pulled up a video that seemed promising, she heard the bat toy crinkling as Loki toyed with the wings.

She pushed the chair Loki was on across the slight distance to the shorter countertop. She scanned the recipe again and started pulling out the ingredients they needed.

She kept a close eye on Loki, though he was sufficiently distracted by watching her with rapt attention and fiddling with his soft toy.

As she closed the cupboard door, she heard a loud rustling noise.

“No wait- don't!”

Space winced at the sight of Loki ripping open the sack of flour with overeager fingers. The after effects led to the lower part of Loki’s face and his shirt covered entirely in flour, and Space had to hide a smile at Loki’s disgruntled look.

“Ew.” Loki stuck out his tongue, leading him to taste more flour.

“Most of it’s on your shirt.” She nearly laughed when Loki grimaced and then glared at her. “And that’s why we need to add sugar. I think.” She took the bag of flour from Loki and placed it beside him on the counter.

“That’s what we need next anyhow. Why don’t you help me measure it?” she said absently, turning away and starting to add more ingredients to the bowl. She should have known he would notice the inattentiveness in her tone.

Space turned back to Loki and her eyes widened, but it was too late. Loki had his hand in the bag again and threw flour right in her face. Space spluttered.

“Erg.” She blew a raspberry to blow some of the flour off. “That is gross.” She wiped her face with her hands and looked down at the white powder on them. Space didn’t really understand how baking worked, but how could it taste good if it started off like that?

Space kept an eye on him this time as she wet a small washcloth and started cleaning off Loki’s face. He scrunched his nose and she almost let herself be distracted by his expression. Were his eyes always that big?

She pulled his wrist gently away to stop his wandering hands from finding the bag of flour and tutted. Loki pouted, but let her clean off his hands as well.

Space looked down at the recipe again. She already had that thick oily substance in a bowl, which also tasted gross (she really needed to stop tasting the ingredients). She handed Loki the measuring cup and guided his hand to scoop up the sugar and pour it into the bowl.

“Great job bug.” Space smiled at Loki’s grin, and he held up his hand. Space copied the Midgardian gesture and gave him a ‘high five’.

“I’m going to scoop up the flour. Can you make your hand flat for me?” Loki copied her hand shape with a look of intense concentration. “Good; like that. Now could you brush off the extra stuff please?”

Space continued measuring and mixing ingredients into their proper bowls, following the directions closely. Now for the eggs…

Loki had his tongue poking out as he stared at the egg carton intently, probably trying to open it with his seidr. She helped him open the carton, the safer way without seidr, and pushed a small glass bowl in front of him. Loki eagerly grabbed an egg without waiting for instruction and proceeded to crack it open with both hands, but got most of the shell pieces into the bowl and the actual egg on the counter.

Space snorted. “Like this.” And she tried to crack an egg, but ended up spilling worse than Loki. She frowned; this looked a lot easier in the online tutorial videos. Loki giggled at the dejected look on her face.

“S’ok,” Loki said, “We can separate ‘em.” His words jumbled together slightly as he spoke quickly, emphasizing his accent, which always became more apparent when he was feeling smaller.

Eventually, they had a bowl of completed cookie dough, sans egg shells (mostly). Loki still had flour in his hair and on his shirt, somehow there was a piece of egg shell on his face and there was melted chocolate on his hands from swiping chocolate chips. Space wasn’t in much better condition, although her hair was pulled back into a low bun, which kept that part clean at least.

Space put her hands on her hips. “Do we have to scoop these? This was already too much work.”

“Nuh uh.”

Space huffed, barely holding back a smile at his wide-eyed, serious look. “You sure?”

“Have'ta bake!” he said. He pointed at the oven.

“Hmm. If we have to…”

***

They ended up with misshapen and slightly burnt cookies, and the concoction tasted strange to her. She was a bit suspicious of the foreign texture, but Loki seemed to think they tasted fine, so she counted it as a win.

Although magic would need to be involved in the clean up, because Space wasn’t sure how she kept stepping in sugar, and somehow bits and smears of butter were everywhere and… was that an eggshell on the ceiling?

#fandom agere #marvel agere #regressor loki #little loki #tesseroki #agere fic #sfw age regression #agere boy

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