Loki's head was pounding. He had felt a migraine coming on a few hours ago, so he'd begged two painkillers off of a colleague. The bastard must have given him tic tacs instead because they'd done slightly less than fuck-all for his head.

And he'd been planning to take Darcy out to see that new stylized film noir she'd been talking about. Damn. He shot her a text message earlier saying they'd have to reschedule date night because he needed a quiet, dark room and a long nap. She'd instantly texted back that she was both concerned and willing to play doctor with him later. His girl was perfect like that.

Trudging up the steps into his building, he wanted to cry from the sheer relief of finally being home. As he let himself in, he was disappointed but unsurprised to note that the lights were off. He knew he'd beat Darcy home, but he was still hoping she'd be there – her presence alone always made him feel better.

He dropped everything he was holding onto the floor and headed straight to the bathroom – aspirin. He threw the pills in his mouth and then leaned over and washed them down with water right from the tap. Uncivilized, but necessary. Then he headed to the bedroom, dropping clothes as he walked. He could deal with everything later. Stripped to his boxers, he flipped off the light and slid into bed. Ahh. Finally. He prayed for sleep to come quickly and offer relief.

No such luck.

He was still tossing and turning, the aspirin just starting to kick in but not enough to allow him to finally drop off. In the silence, he heard the door to the bedroom open slowly. Darcy. She didn't say anything as she peeked into the room, so he let her know he was still awake.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Her outline in the doorway jumped a bit, obviously not expecting his voice to come out of the darkness.

Softly, "Hey, honey. How are you feeling?"

His voice was fatigued, "A little better, but not great. I just need some sleep, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards for me."

He couldn't see her face clearly as she stood silhouetted by the hallway light, but he could feel her frown. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. With the light gone, the blackness descended again. His eyes adjusted much more quickly this time. He watched as she slipped out of her work clothes and then removed her bra. He hoped she wasn't feeling too amorous tonight because he'd hate to tell her that he wasn't in the mood because he had a headache. How fucking cliché would that be? Although if she actually propositioned him, he would probably rally – even if he were half-dead, he couldn't imagine turning her down. He was addicted to her. It wasn't a particularly bad thing. There were far worse obsessions.

He kept watching as she walked slowly towards the bed, feeling for it when she got close – her eyes still not quite adjusted to the darkness. Then she slid in behind him, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck and wrapping her arms around his chest. Being the inner spoon was an unusual position for Loki, so he turned over to face her. He couldn't help thinking that even in almost total darkness, she was still so damn beautiful.

"Come here," she whispered as she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, gently pulling down until his head was pillowed on her chest. She slid her arms around his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. He allowed himself to be pulled and held, wrapping his own arm around her stomach.

Damn, this was nice. She was warm and soft and smelled good - infinitely better than a pillow in every way.

Then she started humming softly and he could feel it vibrate in her chest more than he could actually hear it. The sensation was oddly soothing, like the bodily equivalent of white noise. Her hand continued its gentle path through his hair. He tilted his head sideways and placed an absent kiss on the closest inch of her flesh before putting his head back down and closing his eyes.

Time passed, the pain eased, contentment filled him, and he finally (finally!) drifted off.

He awakened to an odd rumbling. Disoriented, he assessed his surroundings. It was still dark and he was still pillowed on Darcy's chest, but the pain was gone. Looking upwards, he realized that Darcy was already awake. Her face was chagrined.

"Sorry, sugar."

Not quite functional yet, he couldn't figure out why she was apologizing. Then it hit him.

"Was that your stomach?"

Her face turned pink and he held back a laugh.

"Hey, I haven't eaten in forever!"

He wanted to laugh at the indignant kitten expression on her face, but her words made him look at the clock. It was almost morning. Damn.

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm the one who's sorry. Have I trapped you here all night?"

She smiled, "I trapped myself here. Are you feeling better?"

"Infinitely. Though I'm a bit more than hungry myself. Let me make breakfast to repay you for the comfort last night. You were an angel. You skipped dinner for me, didn't you?"

"Well, I had more important things on my mind." Her smile was audible, "And more attractive things on my boobs."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to the curve of said breast, then started to rise. The second he lifted his head, she rolled off the bed and scrambled to her feet.

Watching her haste, he asked playfully, "Where's the fire?"

The look she threw him made him bite his tongue. "Dude, I've had to pee for hours."

Without stopping to put on a shirt, she bolted to the bathroom. Loki just stared after her with a bemused smile. What a sweet, silly girl.

As he headed down to the kitchen, he noticed that his clothes were no longer strewn about like a trail of wearable breadcrumbs. Darcy must have picked them up for him. The thought filled him with an odd happiness – she wasn't particularly neat, so tidying up after him wasn't instinctual for her. She had forgone dinner to come home, clean his mess, strip down, and then cuddle his whiney ass (yes, cuddle…he was man enough to admit it). He would have to reward her for all that.

He flipped the coffee pot on and then turned to the cabinets. Humming to himself, he pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes. Homemade pancakes would be a nice little reward. Well, alright, it was one of those little detergent bottles full of pancake powder and all he had to do was add water and shake. Still…it was the thought that counted.

He followed the directions and was in the process of flipping the first batch over when Darcy wandered into the kitchen. She still hadn't put on a shirt, which was a truly nice surprise for him – Darcy topless was a true thing of beauty. He watched as she poured the coffee into two mugs and then set the table, putting the syrup and butter right next to her plate. Her actions would be sweetly domestic if she weren't half-naked. As she was half-naked, it was just painfully arousing. Fuck, she was like a sexy Martha Stewart. That was a thought he never imagined having.

He was so busy ogling, he almost burnt the pancakes. He quickly turned back to the stove and focused on flipping.

Her voice was amused, "Well, this is a sight I could get used to."

He turned his head to meet her gaze, but found that she was too busy checking out his ass. Well, now he didn't feel so bad about gawking at her before. It was somewhat comforting to know that their attraction was so very mutual.

He smirked, "Really? Is it my general state of undress or the fact that I'm cooking?"

"Separately, they're both pretty nice. But it's a deadly combination. This naked breakfast thing should be a new tradition around here. Every day should be Naked Breakfast Day!"

"Hmm...tempting. But, how about every Saturday?"

She pouted, "Once a week. Seriously? Why?"

"Well, seeing you naked every morning is going to severely and negatively impact my punctuality for work – kitchen sex takes quite a bit of time for the cleanup. And if we had Naked Breakfast every single day, we wouldn't appreciate it as much. It'll make for a perfect Saturday."

She shook her head at him, "You know you're thinking too hard for this time of the morning. The sun isn't even up yet!"

He looked her over again, "I just like to savor the good things in my life. And that takes time."

All this talk of appreciating the good things and taking your time made Loki think about the trajectory his relationship with Darcy had taken. They had been acquaintances, then friends, then roommates, then lovers, then…this. Perfection. It was like creating a chemical compound from two unstable components. In order for it to have worked out so well was dependent on the timing. If he'd found Darcy earlier – or moved faster – he might not have appreciated her the way she deserved. The slow building of tension, learning all the secrets, accepting all the flaws, appreciating all the little quirks – together it created the perfect foundation upon which to build their future. While they'd rushed the physical aspect of their relationship, it didn't really matter as the emotional had already been in place. They'd fallen slowly and completely. Sometimes the great things took time. Sometimes you needed to wait.

He wanted to explain this little revelation to Darcy, but he would feel damn stupid telling her that their relationship was his perfect Saturday.

Instead, he added, "And technically, neither of us is truly naked."

He watched as she looked down at his ass again with a naughty smile. Why she was so amused by the fact that he wore boxer-briefs still puzzled him. Briefs were too snug, boxers were too loose – but boxer-briefs were just right. Fuck, he sounded like the Goldilocks of underwear.

Speaking of underwear, he'd gotten a good look at the ones she had on before she sat down. Little and purple, with a dinosaur playing guitar on the front and the word 'Rockasaurus' written on her ass in sparkly purple glitter. Why he found that sexy and not disturbingly juvenile was another puzzle. He supposed he could let her own appreciation of his unusual underwear choices slide, if she could do the same for him.

Pancakes done, he put the giant plate of them down in the middle of the table. He watched as she put one pancake down, buttered it and then put another pancake on top. After stacking an ungodly number in this fashion, she smothered it all in syrup and smiled like she'd won the damn lottery. Then she descended upon her meal like a ravenous animal. He found the whole process oddly endearing.

In a more civilized manner, Loki made his own plate and started eating. The meal passed in silence, except for the happy noises she made after a particularly delicious bite. He watched as she licked syrup from her lips. Damn. He had to be strong. Then she slowly licked syrup off her finger.

It was official: he was a pervert. He couldn't even watch her eat breakfast without getting hard. He wanted to hang his head in shame, but that would involve taking his eyes off her.

Suddenly, she spoke, startling him out of his haze of inappropriate arousal, "You're really feeling better?"

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. I get migraines occasionally. I used to get them more often when I was younger, but it got better. Now I only have them very rarely."

"That sucks. My Aunt Patty gets wicked migraines. I'm glad you don't get them too often. Although you did get amusingly snuggly last night. That was fun."

Snuggly? Cuddly was one thing, but snuggly? That killed the arousal pretty quick. Besides, nobody wants to be ravished by someone they just called snuggly.

And he was an ungrateful asshole apparently, "I never said thank you for last night, did I? I'm sorry, sweetheart. Thank you so much for taking care of me."

She looked surprised, but then her lips curled upward, "Dude, please. You take care of me in more ways than I can count."

He just raised his eyebrow.

"But you're welcome. Anytime, Snuggles."

He wanted to sigh. That was one of the more depressing nicknames she'd given him. He much preferred the ones that made him sound, you know, manly.

He finished eating before her – it truly was amazing how much food she could put into such a small body – and watched as she lifted the last bite to her lips. She held it there, looking at it with a wistful smile.

"Darcy, what are you doing?"

"Savoring the good things, like you said I should. Once I eat it, all my yummy pancakes will be gone."

He could only shake his head. Suddenly, a big drop of syrup dripped off the pancake and landed on the top of her breast. He watched, mesmerized, as it oozed its way down toward her nipple. She absently licked her finger and then ran it from the bottom of the syrup trail to the top. She put her finger back in her mouth, making a slight sucking noise followed by a deep 'mmm' that he felt in his very bones. That was it. Snuggly or not, game fucking on.

She met his gaze and immediately dropped her fork, seeming not to care that her last precious bite was still attached to the tines. Her eyes widened and she gulped. He could only imagine what she was reading on his face.

Her voice was shaky, "So…I think you're about to show me why we can't do Naked Breakfast on workdays."

He just smirked and then swept his arm out, sending the contents of the table to the floor in a loud clang. He went to reach for her, but she was already climbing on top of the table and crawling toward him. Once she was in his arms, he licked the trail the lucky syrup had traveled, just in case she missed some. Her skin was sweeter than the maple.

Before long, her silly, purple panties were on the floor next to his boxers. Then there was more licking and teasing and grunting and giggling until he collapsed over her, breathless and sticky and smiling. Maple syrup was surprisingly erotic. Naked Breakfast could be the best idea she had ever had.

Her voice was raspy, "Well…I can see why this could make you late. You're very thorough."

He smiled into her neck, "It's all a part of my work ethic. If I'm going to do something, I damn well better do it properly."

She giggled, jostling him, "Job well done, handsome."

Handsome was certainly an improvement over 'Snuggles'. He started to ease off of her.

Her voice startled him, "Don't move!"

He froze, "What?"

She explained, "You'll cut yourself."

He looked down at the floor. It was littered in broken ceramic - remnants of the plates and mugs. Damn. If they were going to have Naked Breakfast every week, he'd have to invest in plastic flatware. He had a feeling his mother would find the plastic tacky, but it was for a damn good cause.

He looked back at Darcy, "Stay here."

Then he eased his foot down in a clear spot, checking for anything sharp before putting weight on it. He slowly made it out to the hallway and grabbed the broom from the closet. He went back into the kitchen, throwing an appreciative glance at the naked girl on the table.

Happy with life, he hummed as he started cleaning up the mess. Darcy's laughter made him look up.

"What's so funny?"

She could barely get words out, "You. Humming. With the broom. Naked." She had to pause to giggle. "It's like the porno version of Cinderella."

He had no response to that. He was pretty sure his mouth was gaping a bit.

She composed herself and looked contrite, "I'm sorry. I know that realistically I'm more the Cinderella here, what with me being a poor, little nobody getting swept off my feet by a ridiculously handsome prince of a guy – but still. You looked so happy sweeping, it was like animated birds were about to pop out of nowhere and help you with the dishes. And you're very naked. Sorry."

Still floundering for words, he managed, "You were never a nobody. But you're so odd sometimes. I never know what you're going to say. And I mean that as a compliment. Although you're lucky you compared me to a girl after I went down on you. I might not have been so generous."

She giggled, "You still would have. And I'm pretty sure you're the odd one here. This was your fault. You get turned on every time I eat – don't think I haven't noticed."

Fuck. She knew? That was embarrassing.

She continued with a sly smile, "Why do you think I make so much noise? Not every bite of food is that orgasmic. But your eyes get all dark and your jaw clenches. Mmm…and your tongue does that thing where you lick the corner of your mouth. I love when you do that."

He never even realized that he did that. He wondered what else he did that only she knew about.

A sad thought occurred to him, "Are you going to stop being so vocal in your culinary appreciation now?"

"Of course not, don't be silly."

Oh, thank god. Although now that he knew part of her was faking it, he'd have to tease her back. Two could play that game.

With the floor finally clean, he walked over to Darcy and helped her down from the table.

She looked up at him through her lashes, "Now that I'm all sticky, I think I need a shower. Which reminds me, I was thinking we should implement a new strategy for saving the environment."

"Hmm?"

"Water conservation."

Confused, he echoed, "Water conservation?"

"Yeah, it's all about going green these days. Think about how much water we could conserve if we showered together?"

Oh.

Now that was an idea he could get behind. She was really on a roll today with the invention of both Naked Breakfast and water conservation.

His voice was deadpan, "I see. I would love to do my part for the environment. We should probably start conserving right now."

A long and glorious hour later, they decided that no actual conservation had happened – in fact, they probably used more water than when they showered separately.

But this way was infinitely more fun.