Chapter Text
Loki and Mobius trudged along the beachside in a gentle silence, one that lasted forever, and one that was almost comfortable, but not quite. Loki wore a silky green shirt with simple black pants, and boots that matched. Mobius wore something vaguely similar, practically the same. Only he sported a grey, rougher shirt and brown pants. With shoes that did not match. Loki thought it cute.
The sand smelt like wet dirt, and the air around them was light and warm. They’d spent the afternoon in muggy weather, Loki was enjoying the soft breeze that was currently blowing over the entire area. His boots felt strong against the ground, even if it was hard to walk in any type of boot on sand, he liked the feeling that came along with being above every grain rather than sinking into every step.
Neither of them had reason to be there. Technically, Loki was meant to be in training right now. He was meant to be training with Thor and was meant to be fiddling around with knives, swords, hammers, and whatnot. He was meant to be getting chastised for not being as muscly, or as talented as his intensely skilled brother. But he wasn’t.
He was trotting along a beach with the boy he so desperately cherished. He didn’t quite know why Mobius was here either, he had just sort of run into him on the way out of the palace. So, Mobius walked with him. It was extremely calming; the entire reason Loki had come out was to gain some peace. He no longer wanted to deal with the incessant, grating voices of Thor’s companions. Even if they claimed to be close friends with both two brothers, it was made constantly clear who they held to a higher regard.
Mobius was different. He always made time for Loki, sought him out in a crowd of people during a party, asked him to continue talking when someone else interrupted in the middle of his story, sat next to him in the library when he read and most definitely faked reading his own book so that Loki didn’t feel dumb. Nobody ever did that, not for Loki. Save maybe his own mother.
The prince was fairly certain that Mobius as well was meant to be doing lessons, most likely meant to be in a class right now. Learning about some war or an older Asgardian king. Though he was not, he was here. Walking along the beach. With Loki.
On purpose.
They did not talk for what was far too long of a time. Not until they reached the end of the shore and found themselves at the bottom of a short rocky cliff. Mobius looked up, and muttered:
“I never thought of you as the type of person to go on long walks across the beach.”
The use of person and not boy made Loki a little happy on the inside. He couldn’t help the smile wiggling its way onto his face.
“Really?”
“No, I would have thought you the type of person to go sit in a quiet place of the palace, maybe behind a statue or something for some quiet.”
Loki stood and thought for a moment, pondering, and looking down awkwardly at his feet.
“I’ve tried that, my father sends out Thor to find me.” He glanced up. “And he always finds me, he has a knack for that type of thing.”
“What finding Loki hiding spots?”
“No, doing what my father asks of him.” Loki joked.
Mobius chuckled and peered over the rocks, stopped talking, stopped looking in Loki’s direction. He immediately internally screamed at himself, why had he said that? Maybe he should have just gone with Thor being able to find him, what if Mobius thought he was ruining the calm moment?
“Sorry, I was trying to make a joke.” He apologized. “I didn’t mean to make it awkward.”
“Oh! No, it’s fine I just didn’t know how to respond.” Mobius mumbled. Before quickly adding, “Not in a That was so weird way, I mean like, there was just nothing in my head to respond to that with type of way.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The two smiled at each other, and Loki just stared at the other. He analyzed his face, his short hair, his crooked nose, his cheeks risen from his smile. His eyes ventured down to Loki’s lips, and Loki’s eyes ventured down to his. They both stood like that for some amount of time that somehow felt longer than the walk there.
He freaked out, he almost bolted away but that would certainly not make this situation better. Mobius was looking at his lips. His lips! And not looking away! Butterflies flew around in circles, going from his stomach to his chest and never stopping.
Loki grew closer, until Mobius’s face was only inches way from his own. He placed a gentle hand against the space between the other boy’s neck and chin before leaning in and softly placing his own lips against those of the face in front of him.
It could only be described as such; it was barely a kiss at all. Simply placing lips against lips and having a soft tingly feeling scatter its way up his spine and across his torso. Loki swore he could feel Mobius kissing back, for a breadth of a second for he retracted and waited for a reaction. He took his hand away and stepped back.
Mobius was silent, he was completely, and utterly silent. Just before Loki was about to collapse and go into a panic, Mobius let out a breath and hugged Loki.
He hugged the prince like he was a lifeline, fully and with purpose. His arms were wrapped around him, his face snuggled up against his neck and their legs so close together that had they been laying down, could easily have been tangled around each other like vines.
Loki didn’t have a chance to react when Mobius unwinded himself from Loki’s grasp and gazed into him with eyes that screamed “I’m sorry.” Before walking backwards, towards their city, then turning around and jogging away, then speed walking, and then Loki could barely even see him anymore. The action would have felt far weirder to watch had Loki not been in a complete daze, it was like his brain glazed over and every simply thought just jogged away along with Mobius.
He just stared, watched as Mobius left. Watched as he disappeared, almost in a paralyzed state. Loki was supposed to be in training, he would get scolded on returning to the palace, but he didn’t care. All he did was look down at the footprints Mobius left behind when standing right in front of him, reminiscing of the moment he had shared minutes before. Minutes? Maybe, he couldn’t tell. For all he knew that moment happened dozens of minutes ago, he wasn’t so sure.
He thought back to that sacred moment, recorded it in his mind and stored every sight, every feeling, every scent from that moment carefully so that he would never forget what it was like to be held and kissed by someone so close.
His lips still felt tingly.
Then, he walked back home. The walk back home was infinitely louder than the walk to that cliff, because this time rather than paying attention to Mobius’s footsteps, he was paying attention to the waves crashing just a few feet away. He was paying attention to the distant sound of civilization nearby. He was replaying that moment in his head and listening with due care to every delicately worded sentence that came out of Mobius’s mouth.
He walked slowly, cherishing the moments before he would have to be back in that palace with oh, so many people that did not trust him. Oh, so many people that were simply not the one he wanted to be spending his time with.
He walked home a different person than he had begun his walk.
He walked alone.
He walked without Mobius.