Work Text:
When it came to special events, the Grandmaster did not do understated. Granted, the Grandmaster rarely did understated at all; indeed, it had long been the Grandmaster's policy that even when it came to ordinary nonevents, it was better to err on the side of overstated, just to be safe.
His one-Midgardian-year anniversary with the lovely Loki (his partner, soulmate, favourite person, and so forth) was no exception. He asked their local cheesemonger to surprise him with six of their finest, and the cheesemonger did not disappoint.
"Ooh, who's this, uhh, sticky little fellow, a brie perhaps?" asked the Grandmaster, giving the bloomy rind an exploratory sniff. "Oh I see, a vacherin. A, uhh, a deep evergreen forest of a cheese, a little creamy, a little tangy, a little..."
The Grandmaster searched for the right word, gesticulating instead with a flutter of delighted jazz fingers.
Loki lounged beside the cheese board. "This was a good idea, sunshine," he smiled, polishing off a sliver of exceptionally nutty gouda. "I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate a year since we first..."
"Since we first, uhh..." said the Grandmaster, with a coquettish bat of his eyelashes.
Loki blushed. "Kissed, yes," he said, shuffling closer to the Grandmaster's side.
"Fell in love," added the Grandmaster, setting his hand gently on Loki's knee.
"And ate our collective weight in cheese," nodded Loki, tenderly stroking the Grandmaster's cheek. The Grandmaster could feel a blush rising in him, and the viridescent glow that warmed him whenever his beloved was near. "I'm not saying that's why I fell in love with you, but it certainly didn't hurt."
"Well, uhh, stardust," the Grandmaster beamed, his train of thought thoroughly derailed by Loki's soft lips smiling against his.
It was a good thing that cheese was best enjoyed at room temperature, thought the Grandmaster, as the last of the cheese fridge's chill had long since left their little dairy banquet by the time they returned to it.
