Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mobius fucking hates his job. 

It’s not that it’s hard , it’s one of the easiest things he’s ever gotten paid for, and that pay is unreasonably high, it’s that his funny tweets got him kidnapped. 

He knew, logically, that getting a doctorate in a niche field was dangerous. He didn’t think it would land him full-time at a Starbucks, but academia is cutthroat and people need coffee. 

But then some little green bitch unleashed giant pill bugs on New York and Stark Industries was in his Twitter DMs with a job offer. 

Mobius was happy to take a job where he could put his degrees to some sort of use, mostly because it meant not burning himself on an espresso machine every day. If he never makes another latte again it will be too soon. 

It helps that Thor is a genuinely nice person, especially for a prince, God, public figure, and Mobius’s boss. They bonded quickly, Thor happy to find someone who wanted to hear all his stories and Mobius eager to get first-hand accounts of his favorite legends.

The other social media managers may try to bully him for it, but he is proudly a nerd and their harsh words cannot hurt him. He’s expanding his mind and educating Thor’s social media followers through mildly forced puns.

His abductor didn’t exactly say that this was about his job, but it’s not like Mobius does much else. Barely a block away from the tower, his vision blurred and the low buzz of New Yorkers around him turned to a roar. Mobius tried to steady himself against a storefront but found an alley instead. 

What happened next is hazy, but there’s definitely a bag on his head. 

Mobius jerks against his bonds for at least the twentieth time and feels something pressed against his back. Is he in a chair? Wasn’t he in a trunk a few seconds ago? Before he can start squirming for information, there’s a loud clap behind him. 

“You’re awake. Finally.”

Oh no. Mobius grimaces as he recognizes the accent. He got got by a fucking Brit.

The bag gets plucked off his head and Mobius’s eyes strain at the sudden brightness. He’s in a warehouse, an abandoned one judging by the amount of birds. Mid-morning sun streams through the skylights and he knows that he’s for sure going to be late for work. 

His wannabe Moriarty prances into view with mischievous glee and Mobius breathes a heavy sigh of relief

“Oh, it’s just you.”

The man in front of him raises a single eyebrow. He seems to be a mix of annoyed at Mobius's reaction, and amused, leaning slightly towards the latter. 

" Just me? Do you not know who I am?" 

How could Mobius not? His black and green leather armor, the mischief clear in his eyes and even the quirk of his lips, and of course, the large horned helmet/crown/headband thing. 

Even if he hadn't been all over the news after the New York incident, he's heard more than enough stories from Thor to recognize the man in front of him. 

"Of course I do. You're Loki. I'm actually a pretty big fan, other than when you tried to enslave us all, that is." It's true, Mobius was always drawn in by the stories about the God of Mischief and Lies.

Surprise flashes across the God's face for half a second before he masterfully schools his expression.

"Well, I'm sure you're wondering why I've taken you."

"Not really, it's pretty obvious. It's because I work with your brother."  Mobius shrugs as best he can with his arms bound behind his back. "Can you give me my phone?" 

Loki scoffs at his request. "Why? So you can call the Avengers for help? I don't think so."

"No, so I can call them off. Part of my contract is that I had to have a tracer implanted in me and if I don't show up for work they'll activate it. Ya know, to prevent situations like this from happening."

"And you don't want them to save you?" Loki seems hesitant, clearly not trusting Mobius.

"Not really. I have so many things I want to ask you about. I have a doctorate in Norse Mythology and while Thor is great and answers almost any question I ask him, I would love to hear a different perspective." Perhaps Mobius should feel a little embarrassed, nerding out like this in front of Loki, who did kidnap him, but he can't find it within himself to care.

"You're not afraid of me?" Loki's voice is guarded.

"No. Should I be?" 

"Others would say it's wise to be." Loki skillfully dances around the real question. 

"Well, I've never been the smartest."

Loki is quiet for a beat longer than before and Mobius isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad sign. He’s trying so hard to look unfazed and failing so miserably that it circles back around and Mobius can’t read on him.

Surely he’s met fans before. He and Thor both have been messing with humans for centuries. It’s not like the concept of being found interesting is something strange or foreign. 

Loki makes to speak but is cut off before he can begin with an uncomfortable hum from Mobius. If he ends up getting released because he annoyed his kidnapper, he might never hear the end of it. 

There’s a second dull tingle at the base of his skull, though Mobius manages to hold off a sound. When the implant was placed they had shown him what an alert would feel like, and he did everything he could for the next few months to make sure he wouldn’t feel it again. There’s no pain, but it feels wrong . 

“I need to call in,” Mobius says, oddly apologetic about it. He can’t imagine this is what Loki was hoping for when he decided to take him. “The tracker only gives a few warnings before it’s activated. We’ve got maybe a half hour before they break down the door.”

That seems to veer Loki back onto course. “You expect me to believe you would willingly destroy your only chance of escape?”

“I can dictate a text if that’s easier for you.”

It’s not like having the tracer activated would be all that pleasant. Some mid-level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent would come out to see why he’s late for work, then another, until either the Avengers come by to fight Loki or he gets bored with the distractions and quits. Mobius would be too distracted with the tracker buzzing in his head to appreciate the boss fight. It’s really not worth it for either of them. 

To his credit, Loki seems to be getting less confused. Maybe he’s finally coming to terms with the idea that Mobius thinks he’s cool. 

“There’s a code.”

God fucking damn it. 

“What? No.” Maybe the other Avengers have codes with their assistants, but he’s not so sure Thor would pick up on that sort of thing. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m not that special.”

Loki crosses his arms over his chest. “You are not enough for a code phrase, and yet you wear a tracking device?”

“That’s just how Stark is.”

Loki seems to consider that for a moment when suddenly, without the God moving a single muscle, Mobius's hands are free and his phone is in his right one.

"Make your call. But know this, should I detect any sign of trickery, I will not hesitate to kill you where you sit." Loki's voice holds a dangerous lilt to it. And it's exciting. 

"In another situation, I'd say that's hot," Mobius says offhandedly, dialing the number he needs and bringing it up to his ear. 

"Oh." The God raises an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at the left corner of his mouth. "You desire me, is that it?"

"Who wouldn't?" Before he says anything else, Ravonna picks up. 

"Hey, this is Mobius, I can't come in today. Why? Oh, I've spent my entire morning with my head in the toilet. Yeah, it's been a rough day already. Yep. Yes, ma'am, I will keep you updated. Uh-huh. Okay. Yeah, you too. Bye." He hangs up the phone, not offering it back to the other man but instead slipping it in his pocket. 

"Thanks. So, where we're we?" Loki looks at him, clearly amused. 

"You were telling me you desire me." He reminds the human. 

"Oh, right. Well, I mean..." Mobius trails off. Loki moves closer to him, crowding against him. The God looms over him, placing several fingers underneath Mobius's chin and leading him to tilt his head up. 

"What's your name?" Loki asks softly, and if Mobius isn't mistaken, breathily. 

The human swallows heavily. He won't lie, when he was in school, he had a bit of a crush on the God, something about him drawing Mobius in. That naturally faded away the farther out of school he got. Then, once he actually saw him on the news, that crush rushed back full force, if not a bit more mature now. 

And now? Loki is here, in front of him, practically in his lap. It's no question that Mobius feels a bit warm. 

"Mobius." He's proud he doesn't stutter over the single word that is his name. 

"Well, Mobius-" His name sounds almost sinful when the god says it, especially when he says it like that. "If you desire me, then you shall have me."

Chapter Text

Loki knows, he has to. He can probably sense Mobius’s heart rate picking up and the shortening of his breath, and he probably watched his pupils dilate as he got closer.

This is a trick. Mobius isn’t diluted enough to think there’s any other reason Loki would do this. His mind runs through legends of Loki’s amorous exploits and all that became of his paramours. Is he willing to spend eternity in a hot spring with a bowl of snake venom just to say he flirted with a God?

Yes. He absolutely is. 

“Loki,” Mobius wavers slightly as he lets a little bit of unsureness into his voice. Seduction is second nature, even this long after grad school. His hands stay by his side in faux shyness. He knows exactly what to do with them, he’s just biding his time. “In what way do you mean ‘ have’ ?”

Loki smirks, grazing the pad of his thumb along his jawline. Mobius tilts slightly, baring his throat. Loki’s eyes don’t leave his. “In what way do you desire?”

Mobius doesn’t look away. The God promised moments ago to kill him at the first sign of trickery. He wouldn’t dare say anything but the truth. “For you? All ways.” 

Loki chuckles darkly at that. "Quite ambitious for a Midguardian, aren't you?" Loki leans in closer, his mouth coming to rest right in front of Mobius's ear, so close that as he speaks, his lips brush against the shell of it. "Do you truly think you can handle all of that?" 

Mobius's breath hitches. He doesn't trust himself to speak, so he weakly nods his head once. That must please the God because he scrapes his teeth against the underside of Mobius's jaw before pulling back. 

"Oh, dear." He says as he looks down pointedly. Mobius doesn't need to follow his gaze to know what he's looking at. His pants have been getting tighter over the last few seconds. "You really are excited, aren't you."

Loki reaches out and cups Mobius's growing erection through his pants with a gentle, barely-there touch. The human can't help but let out a quiet moan and buck his hips slightly. 

Loki laughs at him and gives a firm squeeze. Mobius's hips buck once again at the feeling. 

"Tell me, you said that you have a doctorate in Norse Mythology. So that means you must have studied me. Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?" 

Yes. Absolutely he has. But he doesn't want to admit it. He bites his lip. Loki waits a second before humming disappointedly and pulling his hand away. Mobius lets out an undignified whine at the loss of contact. 

"I need you to use your words, Mobius. Have you pleasured yourself while thinking about me?" Mobius tries to stay strong, but he quickly gives in. 

"Yes! God yes!" He cries out. Almost as if in reward, Loki's hand returns to his cock. Mobius's hands twitch at his sides, fists balling and unballing. He wants to touch the God, but he doesn't know how he'd react. He silently curses Loki, with barely a touch and he's broken down Mobius's confidence in this situation. 

He must have been making some sort of noise because Loki gently shushes him. "It's okay. You can touch me." 

The second the words are out of the God's mouth, Mobius's hands are on his slender waist, pulling him closer.

Loki lets out a pleased hum, allowing himself to be moved. He gets closer than Mobius had brought him, letting their chests press together. 

The material under his hands is soft, slightly warm from Loki’s body heat. Mobius knows that he’s wearing some kind of royal dress, it seems like armor, even, but his admiration for Asgardian custom is on the back burner now. He just wants to see what’s beneath it.

Their faces are barely an inch apart, close enough that Mobius can see just how blue Loki’s eyes are. They both feel Mobius’s cock twitch as Loki’s gaze flicks down to his lips. 

“You can touch me too, y’know.” Mobius hears himself say it before the thought processes and kicks himself internally. Loki clearly has no qualms about touching him. 

“I may?” Despite the awkward invitation, Loki gives him another sly smirk. He moves his hand against him, earning a broken noise that sounds just a little too close to a whimper. 

“You may,” Mobius says, nearly breathless. He will never, never, admit to how often he’s imagined sleeping with Loki, but in those fantasies, the mind games were less treacherous and more lusty. He doesn’t want to find out what happens here when he makes a wrong move. 

“So generous with your body, and yet you refuse to share your mind.” Loki tilts his head slightly, accentuating the delicate lines of his cheekbone and jaw. The sunlight catches on his horns, making the gold look molten. At this angle, Mobius has to look up to him, and it’s never been more clear that this man is a God. He feels weak in his presence, undeniably human. 

“It’s more fun if you work for it.”

“Anyone else I would punish such insolence. However, on you, it is strangely amusing. Charming even." That is probably the closest thing to a compliment that Loki has given anyone in a while, if not ever. Mobius feels honored. 

"What can I say? I'm not like anyone else." Mobius sounds a whole lot more sure of himself than he really is. 

"Oh, I'm counting on it." Mobius opens his mouth to reply, but Loki captures his mouth with his own, tongue exploring every inch of the human’s mouth.

Mobius presses into the kiss as much as he's able to, fully okay with letting the other man control it. He has a feeling that Loki would be the type to 'playfully' bite his tongue should Mobius even try to take control. 

Loki pulls back, not just out of the kiss, but fully away from Mobius. His hands fall from the God's body as he steps away and Mobius bites his tongue to keep from crying out in displeasure. 

"Look at you. So desperate ." He looks pleased with himself, but after a moment that pleased look turns dark and angry. "Has my brother seen you like this?" 

Mobius's brain takes a moment to register what Loki just asked. Is he really asking if he and Thor? Mobius is barely able to keep from laughing at the mere thought, Loki probably wouldn't appreciate it. 

"No. Never. Just- no." Mobius shakes his head to emphasize his words. "He's a nice guy and all, but not my type." 

Loki scoffs at the answer, rolling his eyes. "Thor is everyone's type."

"Not mine," Mobius says honestly. Loki looks at him for a moment before his hands begin to glow a menacing green. Mobius panics for a moment, thinking that Loki didn't believe him.

In an instant, all of Mobius's clothes are gone in a shimmer of green. He sits there completely bare beneath the God's gaze, cock springing up now that it's free. 

Loki is back upon him in a minute, sitting himself down in Mobius's lap. One of his hands wraps around the back of Mobius's head, his long fingers grabbing Mobius's short hair and yanking. 

His head tips back, exposing his neck. Loki's mouth is immediately on the exposed skin, biting down possessively.

“Fuck.” Mobius arches, desperate hands pressing Loki closer to him. He has little forethought, acting on instinct and driven by need. His hand moves from Loki’s shoulder to the back of his neck, bracing against him as Mobius offers more of himself. 

The growl Loki makes against his throat is unholy .

Mobius moans, low and pleading, as Loki pulls his hair again. His hips jolt, the movement barely a twitch under the God’s more powerful thighs. It wasn’t quite as arousing when he was restrained before, but being forced still by another man has always been a turn-on. 

Loki pulls away from his initial bite to leave more marks along his throat. He intersperses light nips between possessive bites, all but purring in approval of how well Mobius takes the pain.

Mobius has been trying to get out of the habit of swearing, mostly for work, and that’s altered the way he speaks, even if he’s still profane internally. He feels Loki’s tongue against his throat and lets out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. 

He digs his fingers into Loki’s hip, blunt nails leaving marks in the leather as he uses all his strength to pull him closer. Loki doesn’t seem to even feel him and Mobius doesn’t know if he finds that hot or frustrating. 

“Please.” Mobius is too focused on the man in his lap to be embarrassed or coy right now. He needs more, and he’s not afraid to beg. “Fucking God , Loki, please.”

"That's it, my pet. Let me hear you." Loki encourages the man beneath him and gets another moan in response. The God reaches a hand down, taking Mobius's cock in his hand, which is magically slicked, and begins to move it up and down. 

"Tell me, Mobius, in those fantasies I know you've had about me, were you taking everything I could give you? Or were you fucking into me?"

"I- I don't-" Mobius stutters, not wanting to admit that Loki's right. 

"Shhhh. Don't lie to me." Loki's dark tone promises pleasure, but only if Mobius tells him the truth.

"I was fucking you." He says quietly. "I always pictured bringing you the sweetest pleasure, worshiping every inch of your skin, treating you so good, so good."

"Hmm." Loki hums, stilling his hand. Mobius humps his hips up, chasing after that friction that Loki's denying him. 

"If that is what you desire. Although I must say, I was very much looking forward to taking you over and over again, making you scream my name in that most agonizing pleasure and begging for me to do it again." Mobius moans at the words. That sounds amazing.  "Perhaps another time. For now-" Loki says as his clothing disappears much like Mobius's did. 

The human’s mouth goes dry when he feels the God's skin against his own. Looking up, he can still see the golden horns perching on his head. His eyes don't stay there long, traveling down the planes of the other man's exposed skin, all the way down to his cock. 

It's almost as big as Mobius's, but lacking just a bit in both length and width. Mobius can't help but have his confidence boosted by the fact that he's larger than the God. 

Before Mobius can comment, Loki raises himself, leading Mobius's dick to his entrance before sinking down in one swift movement.

Mobius cries out, hands flying to Loki’s hips to steady himself. The God moans softly, the hand not in Mobius’s hair coming to brace against his shoulder. 

For a few moments, they stay there. Mobius adjusting to the sudden vice-like heat around him, and Loki taking in the welcome stretch of his Midgardian’s cock. A slight cant of his hips has both of them gasping, Mobius’s fingers digging into the pale skin instead of leather. 

“My God , Loki,” Mobius pants, head falling forward to Loki’s shoulder. He lets out a wry laugh. Loki’s still trying to kill him, and it looks like he’s going to succeed. 

“Your God?” Loki shifts his hips as he smirks down at Mobius, tearing another sound out of him. “I rather like the sound of that.”

Despite that being nowhere near the intended meaning, something flutters in Mobius’s chest. He’s accepted him as a disciple. If Loki keeps him, he might get a chance to properly worship him. 

Mobius looks up at him, grazing a kiss against Loki’s collar bone. What greater honor can there be than to pleasure a God? He thinks being allowed to mark him maybe. To leave a bruise on the column of his throat that others may see, so that they both carry symbols of his honoring divinity, but that would require looking away from Loki, and he couldn’t force himself to do that. 

“My God,” Mobius repeats, a quiet sort of awe settling into his voice. His thumbs draw soft circles against the juts of Loki’s hips, soothing where he once gripped with all of his force. 

Loki rolls his hips again, this time continuing the movement after the initial shock of pleasure. It’s slow, perhaps cautionary, nowhere near the kind of ravenous passion he had when claiming Mobius’s throat. He raises a hand, lightly pressing his fingertip against a mark, and grins as Mobius hisses, bucking up into him. 

“Maybe vampire is more accurate.” Or succubus, though Loki had intended to top so technically-

Loki’s brow furrows. “I am a God.”

“I know,” Mobius smiles at the endearing look of confusion. “Vampires bite people, you seem to enjoy that.”

“As do you,” Loki reminds him, pressing against another mark. Mobius moans softly and debates whether he should take his fingers into his mouth or just kiss him again. “Perhaps we are both vampires.”

“No, that’s not how-“ Mobius cuts himself off. There is a literal God grinding in his lap and he’s about to launch into a full lecture on Eastern European folklore. He swore he’d never make that mistake again. “I’m sorry but I’m not going to try to explain Dracula while we’re having sex.” 

"Hmm, good choice." Loki agrees, clearly not fully grasping what Mobius was talking about. 

They continue to move together, panting and moaning against each other’s skin and into each other’s mouths. 

"Loki… Loki I'm getting close." He confesses and then regrets it almost immediately when Loki lets out a sinister-sounding chuckle. 

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" He makes a big show of raising one hand and snapping his fingers. It's clear by now that he doesn't need to do anything like that to use his magic, so he's just doing it to put Mobius on edge. 

Something tightens around the base of his cock, and Mobius looks down at it. As the God continues to fuck himself up and down, Mobius can see a cock ring of green magic sitting firmly at the base of his dick. 

"I know you mortals tend to have issues with stamina, and we can't have you finishing too early, can we?" 

"This is cruel."

“Perhaps,” Loki shrugs. “Would it not be cruel to allow you release and deny myself?”

“Never said we’d have to stop.” Mobius thrusts a little sharper, grinning in satisfaction as Loki moans. “It’s impolite to cum inside someone without at least asking first.”

Loki tightens both himself and the ring in retaliation. “And then? Continuing with your cock within me would allow you release again, even thrice. Does Midgard not shame greed?”

Christ, three times? Mobius takes Loki in a kiss, flicking his tongue against his and moaning when he’s bitten. Loki overtakes him easily, dominating the kiss as Mobius submits for him. 

They separate panting, Loki biting Mobius’s lip in parting as a final warning not to try that again. It goes completely unheeded. 

“You said that you wanted to fuck me, right?” Loki gets that look again and Mobius has to fight the urge to kiss it off of him. “You can always take my throat.”

Loki falters and Mobius feels pride fill him. He might have upset the poor prince’s sensibilities, offering himself so eagerly. Who wouldn’t want a taste of a God? 

Loki straightens himself as best he can in such a debauched state. “Taking you like this shall suffice for now.”

“For now. Offer still stands.” Mobius hums. He could tease Loki for being so adamant about being fucked when he wanted to take Mobius, but he does not want to find out how he would be punished for that insolence. Not yet, anyway. 

Instead, he kisses just below the corner of Loki’s jaw, feeling the slightest shiver go through him. “I shall worship whenever you desire, my God.” 

"You're playing a dangerous game, Midguardian." Loki threatens softly, rolling his hips. 

The God rides Mobius, setting his own pace and trailing bites all over Mobius's exposed skin. He takes what he wants and Mobius just sits there a gives everything. 

"Perhaps I'll keep you," Loki speaks low enough that one could think he's talking to himself, but Mobius knows better. The God of Mischief does everything for a reason. "Perhaps I'll keep you just like this. Hard and needy and wanting. I'll keep you just like this and come by to fuck your holes or ride your cock at will. Would you like that? Being a God's private fuck toy?"

That should not be nearly as hot as it is. Perhaps what makes it so dirty is that Loki could 100% do it. Loki continues thrusting with his powerful hips and almost brings Mobius to beg him to do just that. Claim him, use him, just please don't stop.

Mobius somehow manages not to say any of that, instead moaning obscenely. He tries to meet Loki's thrust for thrust, but the God's pace is too fast.

Mobius stays tucked into the crook of Loki’s neck, occupying his mouth with kissing the God’s throat. Feeling the vibration of his voice under his lips is enough to make his hips jerk, there’s no way he could keep his composure while looking up at him. 

He’s been able to move at least slightly since Loki took his lap, but as he takes one decisive downstroke, Mobius feels phantom hands pinning his hips to the chair. He whines, trying to buck against Loki’s magic. 

“Oh, none of that.” Loki bites Mobius’s throat sharply, making him cry out again. He fucks himself on Mobius’s cock as if the man were truly nothing more than a toy, seemingly unaffected by how he tries to move or his broken moans.

Mobius clings to him, more fervently than before. His hands rove from thighs to waist, digging his nails into the firm muscle of his God’s back and shoulders, grasping for purchase as if he might fall from beneath him. As if Loki would ever allow that. 

Loki’s hand threads back through his hair, pulling lightly once before forcing Mobius away from his throat completely. He moans, from the pull or the sight before him he couldn’t say. 

Loki looks every bit as divine as he did the moment he stepped into view. Not a hair out of place, the crown still perched primly on his head gleaming in the light. The only sign of change is the slight bruising of his lips, but that is hardly noticeable even this close. 

Mobius doesn’t hazard imagining how different he must look. Thoroughly marked, still being used, he must look desperate. Perhaps even as desperate as he feels. 

Loki raises an eyebrow, none too gently tugging at his hair again. “What did you say, pet?” 

“Please,” Mobius hears himself speak before he can deny anything. Has he been begging? Did he ever really stop? “Loki, God, please let me fuck you. Want to please you, sir. Need to.”

"Just wanna please you." Mobius can feel tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. "Let me please you." 

"You are, my pet." Loki says almost softly. "Just like this, beneath me, begging for me, pushed to the brink of it being too much but still wanting more. Look at this." 

Loki reaches forward and cups Mobius's face. The man leans into the touch, letting his eyes flutter shut. Loki runs his thumb back and forth over Mobius's bottom lip twice before moving up to his cheekbone.

"You're crying. Are you truly that desperate to cum?" Mobius opens his eyes, not having realized that he had started crying. He whimpers pathetically, nodding his head and trying to jerk his hips up, but is still being held down by Loki's magic. 

"I am close as well, my pet." Mobius wouldn't be able to tell had Loki not said anything. He still seems as composed as ever. Suddenly, the pressure at the base of his cock is gone. 

"Cum for me, Mobius."

Loki continues to slowly roll his hips, letting Mobius take one last, weak buck of his hips before finally finding his release.

The sound Mobius makes is somewhere between a whimper and a sob, broken and wanton. He clings to Loki, riding out waves of pleasure as they course through him. If he hadn’t been crying before, he would be now. 

It may be the cry of his name from his pet’s lips, or the feeling of his seed spilling within him, but Loki follows not far behind. The God’s carefully maintained poise wavers, his movement loses its rhythm, and his back arches as he curses in a language Mobius can’t understand. His cock, untouched entirely, jerks once before spilling across their stomachs.

Mobius presses his face back against the God's neck, pressing an open-mouth kiss against the side of his neck. 

"God. That was..." Amazing. Perfect. Time stopping. World ending. All of the above. 

"Mmm." Loki hums in agreement. He takes his finger and scoops some of his cum off of Mobius's stomach, bringing his fingers up to the human's lips. 

Mobius early takes them in his mouth and sucks them, letting out a moan at how the God tastes. Loki moves his fingers around, more than content to let his human clean them for him. 

Once he feels that Mobius did an adequate enough job, he pulls them free and with a thought, they're both fully dressed. Mobius doesn't know it, but Loki conjured a plug to keep himself full of the midguardian's cum.

He’s exhausted, spent, and half asleep already, but he’s nothing if not a polite fuck. Mobius kisses Loki’s jaw again, lazily rising to press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s gentle, even chaste, and his heart twists in his chest when Loki smiles into it. 

He pulls away slowly, allowing himself to linger before leaning back against the chair. Loki redressed them. At some point, somewhere between the first time Loki moaned his name and when he did that thing with his hips, Mobius forgot that he had been kidnapped. 

He’s not quite saddened when it comes back to him, he never truly believed that Loki’s heat of the moment threats to keep him were anything more than dirty talk, but he had hoped they could pretend for a little longer before coming back to reality. 

“Thank you,” Mobius says softly. His expression is tailored to what he thinks Loki will approve of, a mixture of gratitude and awe at being allowed such an honor, and a subdued understanding that he’s probably not going to let him do this again. 

It may not be as easy to deal with this time, he can’t go home and cuddle his pillows instead of Loki, but he can persevere. He’s not going to ask any more of a God that isn’t his.

"You're certainly welcome." The God tells him, not rising from the mortal's lap. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Mobius's hair, smoothing it out from where he pulled on it. 

Mobius tries to hide how content he is with the God in his lap. The weight of the other man is comforting, centering him back to the here and now.

They stay like that for longer than either of them would admit, catching their breaths and pretending not to enjoy the other's body heat. 

Loki finally pulls back, smoothing his hand through his hair, even though there is not a single strand out of place. He grabs Mobius by the arm and pulls him to his feet.

"I think perhaps I can make this more comfortable." The chair disappears and is replaced with a very soft-looking bed. Mobius's eyes widen when he sees it.

"Oh. Are you ?" Mobius trails off, looking between the God and the bed. 

"Sweet Mobius, I fully intend to keep every promise I made to you." Loki places a hand on his chest and pushes gently, walking Mobius backwards until his knees hit the bed. He sits, leaving the god once again looming over him.

"Promises?" He doesn't remember Loki promising anything. 

"About taking you. Claiming every inch of you. Making you cum just from my cock, my fingers, even my tongue." Loki's voice is full of seduction. "Unless, of course, you tell me now that you don't want that."

“Oh.”

Mobius definitely died. Loki fucked him too good and he died and now he gets to be a sex kitten in Folkvangr.

Loki smirks down at him and Mobius should definitely be more embarrassed by how warm and fuzzy that makes him feel. He’s being kept. Loki wants to blow his back out and Mobius has butterflies. 

“Is that a yes, then?” Loki is still every bit as cocky and overconfident as Mobius has seen him to be, but he’s tensed. His shoulders are broadened and braced, as if holding himself back.

He didn’t exactly ask before, not that he really needed to, but he is now. If they continue, he wants to be certain Mobius desires it too. 

“We should probably have a safe word.” Mobius knows it puts a pause on the whole claiming thing, but he’s definitely more fragile than Loki. He loosens his tie, taking pressure off the bruises starting to bloom on his throat. He’s still willing to die for the dick, though. “But yes. I’m yours for the taking.” 

Loki is seemingly unaware of what a safe word is. Mobius takes a moment to explain what it's for, and Loki puts up no argument in having one should Mobius feel he needs one, though Loki assures him that he won't. 

Mobius decides upon 'jetski' for his word. "They're really cool! I've never ridden one before, but I hope one day I will." Mobius explained, smiling dreamily. He stares off into the distance, daydreaming about his mild obsession. 

A sharp pinch to his thigh brings him back to the moment. Loki looks at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Besides, it's very unlikely to come up during sex." Mobius tries not to blush. 

They spend the next week in ecstasy, barely leaving the bed. A few times a day, Loki would summon food for Mobius, the God himself only partaking in some once or twice. By the fourth day of their fuck-a-thon, Mobius was so shaky and boneless that Loki hand fed him, which of course turned into another round.

To Mobius’s surprise, Loki was kind . Yes, his body is covered in bruises and he’s not certain he could leave the bed if he tried, but after getting thoroughly railed Loki pulled him into his arms and held him. Their rare moments of rest were spent still tangled together, Mobius’s head on Loki’s chest. The God makes a rather good pillow. 

He had been nervous to ask of anything, but after their christening of the bed Loki had fallen beside him and drawn him close, offering words of sweet praise as Mobius tucked into his side. The God doesn’t admit it, but it seems he likes holding his human pet almost as much as taking him. 

Talk, aside from begging and promises of pleasure, is minimal. Too occupied with catching their breath to waste it on personal trivia, they hum softly as communication. Wordless, they still can tell just what the other means. 

On the very first day, when Mobius was in a tumultuous state of confidence about the whole situation, Loki had asked him what he hungered for. It took a few more attempts for the God to get his mortal’s mind off sex and onto sustenance, kissing his colored cheeks as the realization came. 

Then realization came for Loki, as Mobius’s request lacked any sort of nutrition. The explanation of caffeine didn’t comfort him at all. He eventually agreed to one of these so-called ‘energy drinks’, so long as Mobius at least consumed actual food along with it. ‘Energy bars’ do not qualify as food outside of this agreement, no matter how much Mobius tries to argue. 

On the fourth day, when Mobius was so far gone that he looked to his God for help, Loki brought the man into his lap and fed him well. Summoned beside them was a tray of the finest Asgardian cuisine, of which he broke off small pieces and offered to his Mobius, murmuring praises as he took them with soft kisses to his fingers.

He brought another, once the meal was done. Mobius had yet to turn away from a morsel, and with how little he had fed himself, Loki took the opportunity to care for him. 

Mobius had smiled, taking slices of sweet berries from Loki’s hand even though he had rested long enough to feed himself. His mind could conjure custom or seduction, but he chose to take the softness for what it was. 

Once they had finished the tray of fruit and nuts, Mobius had reached for him, gently guiding Loki into a kiss. They fell back into their bed, arousal rising again, and Loki claimed Mobius as his with a tenderness that one could call making love.

After several days of that, Mobius has a thought. It hits him just as he's waking up in the morning, or, at least, he thinks it's morning. He can't be sure. He groans and shoves his face into the curve of Loki's neck, hoping to hide away from the world for just a bit longer. 

"Are you well?" Loki asks, bringing a hand up to Mobius's naked back, running a finger over his spine. 

"I have to go back." His words are muffled by the other man's skin. The God tenses and pulls away. 

"You don't wish to stay?" The 'with me' isn't said out loud, but Mobius knows that's what he meant. He knows his God has rejection issues, at least if the mythos and Thor's tails are true. 

"I do." Mobius props himself up on his elbow, head on his hand. "But I have responsibilities. People who depend on me. A house plant that's probably dead by now."

“I see.” Loki’s expression is schooled into artful neutrality and Mobius feels a pang of hurt for him. His fingers trace the outline of a bruise, the only one he’s been able to make last more than an hour. He would give anything to stay with him. 

He wants to reassure him, say something poetic that makes Loki really see what he means, but he’s never been great when it came to grander gestures. 

“Thank you, for everything.” is what he settles on. It’s not the best, Mobius knows he could have come up with better if he gave himself the time. He feels Loki’s magic, now something he’s more than a little familiar with, start to quietly fold around him as Loki begins to summon his clothes. The haze against his skin feels like a final caress, full with longing. 

“I don’t have to go now.” Mobius offers it like it wouldn’t hurt more. Loki doesn’t quite meet his eye. “I don’t want to leave our bed without-“ 

He sighs. ‘Goodbye’ is final, ‘you’ is unfair. 

His hand rises, cradling his God’s cheek. “How do I find you again?”

Loki doesn’t raise an eyebrow or give him a playful smirk. He’s laid bare, his cloak of overconfidence shed days ago. His understanding is hollow. “If you desire me, all you need is pray.”

Mobius has not attempted prayer since he was in school, and has not done so in earnest since he was a child in his family’s church. He doesn’t recall the proper form, but he can find it some way.

My God.

My Mobius.

Loki’s voice within Mobius’s mind is warm and sonorous, echoing from on high. It makes his chest ache with longing, even while still in his arms. 

He tries to share the feeling. Words fail him, and he wants to be clear with his intentions. He desires his form, but more than that, he longs for Loki’s self. 

The God’s breath hitches and Mobius extinguishes his prayer. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be.” Loki says quietly. He sounds almost hoarse with the weight of the combined emotion. His stilled hand against Mobius’s spine returns, a flattened palm holding him against Loki’s chest. 

Where he traces the small bite he left his lover, Mobius can feel his heartbeat. He wonders if theirs beat in time. 

“I…“ Mobius trails. What can he say? What could he possibly say? “My place next time?”

“Perhaps.” There’s a flicker of a smile on Loki’s face. It warms Mobius’s chest like a flame. “You have yet to teach me about vampires.”

“I am so sorry.” Mobius layers on fake remorse with a smile he can’t shake. Loki made good on all his promises. Mobius hasn’t had the time for his own. 

Loki gives him a dark look that doesn’t make it past his eyes. His words hold no threat. “You should be.”

“Please, allow me to make it up to you. I’ll cook.” It could be considered a threat, but there are a select few things he can make almost decently. “Dinner and a movie. Or ten.”

They lapse into silence, neither of them wanting to rush the human's departure. Loki knows it's unfair of him to want to keep this man, he has a life outside of... whatever it is the two of them have going. With a mere thought, he finishes summoning Mobius's clothes. 

"Do you want me to..." Loki trails off, bringing his hand up to gently touch a dark mark that just peaks out of his collar. 

"Leave them." Mobius's voice is hoarse. Loki nods, pressing down gently. He lets up after a second and pulls his hand away. 

"Very well then. Close your eyes." He instructs, letting his own clothing wrap around him. Instead of his armor, he's in a loose, light green, linen shirt and dark pants of the same material. "I shall return you to your apartment." 

Mobius doesn't hesitate to do as he asks. He feels Loki take a step closer and wrap a hand around either of his biceps. He feels Loki's magic begin to swirl around them. 

"Wait!" Mobius's eyes fly open and Loki stops. 

"What's wrong." Loki sounds genuinely concerned. Mobius erases that concern by leaning in and deeply kissing the God. Loki’s hands tighten on the human's arms, careful not to squeeze too tightly.

"I'll see you again." Mobius whispers against Loki's lips. 

"I guarantee it." The God whispers back. Mobius nods his head and closes his eyes once again. 

Green flashes behind his eyes, and when he opens them Mobius is back in his apartment. And he was right, his plant is dead

Chapter Text

Any emotion he had over departing from Loki is replaced with mourning his plant.

He knows he could probably make it in to work late today, but he’s in a mood(™), and his place smells like rotting leaves. The energy he should spend on work is funneled into straightening up his apartment and planning Planty’s funeral. 

He manages to put all thoughts of Loki out of his mind by moving. Constantly. Mobius has become a shark; if he stops moving, he’ll think about Loki kissing him, and he’ll fucking die. 

As a reward for efficiently getting rid of the produce rotting on his counter, Mobius gets junk food and sort of half-paces around his kitchen. If that raven-haired little twunk could see him now, slamming down a pepperoni pizza like it’s his fucking job. He’d probably be horrified. Or jealous, Asgardian cuisine has nothing on New York. 

As distractions fade and the sun sets, his mind drifts to seeing Loki again, though not in the affectionate sense. Does he know what movies even are? Popcorn? When was the last time he just slummed it with the mortals and updated himself on pop culture? 

Fuck, does Mobius have to tell him about the internet?

Thoughts of the future lull him into an equal parts anxious and hopeful sleep. He curls around his pillows and pretends he isn’t imagining a heartbeat under his head. 

The next morning, he wakes up to an empty bed and a blaring alarm clock. He hates his job more than ever. He rolls out of bed and checks the clock. After confirming with himself three times that yes, he does indeed have time to take a quick shower, he does just that. 

He showers, gets dressed, makes toast, pours coffee in his to-go mug, and is out the door. He walks the 15 minutes it takes to get to the tower, and when he gets to the spot Loki took him from a week ago (and was it really only a week ago? It feels like years ago and just yesterday at the same time) and pauses for a moment. 

Mobius looks around, almost like he's waiting for something to happen, for Loki to show up and sweep him away once again. But of course, nothing happens, and no one shows up.

He can't hide his disappointment. Grumbling to himself, he makes it the rest of the way to the tower and scans his ID badge to get in. 

People greet him as he passes, some asking how he's feeling. Mobius waves them off with an answer either way.

"Friend Mobius!" Thor cries happily when he sees the other man. He claps a hand heavily on the human's shoulder, not noticing how Mobius stumbles. "I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm okay, big guy." Mobius forces a smile, shrugging Thor's hand off his shoulder.

"I am glad to hear that. How did- what is that?" Thor touches one of the marks on Mobius's throat, the one that peaks over his collar. The same one that Loki touched the day before. 

"Did someone attack you?" Thor sounds genuinely worried, his voice thundering more than Mobius thinks he intends it to. Mobius looks around and sees many other social media employees looking their way. 

"No, I'm fine. I just, walked into my wall while I was sick." Mobius could slap himself. That's the best he could come up with. All he can do at this point is pray that Thor believes it.

Thor gives him a once-over, expecting more bruises to appear from under his clothes. For half a second, Mobius is afraid that they might.

“You must be more careful.”

Oh, thank God.

“I will,” Mobius gives a crooked smile and raises his thermos in an agreeing gesture. From there, their brief conversation turns to arranging a one-on-one for mid-afternoon to go over what he’s missed, and his absence is unquestioned. Maybe work isn’t so bad. 

Mobius greets a few interns as he makes his way deeper into the media department. He feels a few eyes drop to his throat and fights the urge to adjust his collar. If he acts like he doesn’t notice, maybe the rumors won’t spread. 

The managers’ offices are really just one space separated from the rest of the team by a glass door and rarely drawn blinds. It’s both private and open, their individual workspaces distant enough to keep them from unintentionally bothering each other but still close enough to intentionally bother each other. 

Of the five of them, Mobius’s desk is the second farthest from the door. He makes his way in quietly, almost sighing in relief at the lack of greeting. Taking a sip of his coffee, he sits back in his chair and starts to log into his desktop.

“Whore.” There it is. 

“Hey, Sylvie,” Mobius looks up to see his work associate—they have been told repeatedly not to call each other enemies, fiends, or vile wenches, not to mention their more creative names— rolled out from behind her desk on the opposite wall, looking pointedly at his throat. He gives her a tight smile. “Great weather, huh?”

“You said you were sick.” Bea glides in with her arms crossed. She looks more focused on his lie than the reason, her classic ‘What Did You Do?’ expression on and in full effect. 

“I did. I was.” Mobius takes a sip from his thermos. He’s almost out. He’s going to keep sipping anyway. “I’ve recovered.”

Casey pops out from his desk, homemade trail mix in hand. “Who was it?”

Mobius finishes what little coffee still remains as Casey offers the two some mix. Bea, sensibly, turns him down. Sylvie plucks out a Skittle with an appreciative nod. “I’m here to work.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Mobius’s blood runs cold as Ravonna steps out from behind her desk, joining the flock of vultures. The sky goes dark. He feels the world begin to open up beneath him, waiting for her words to swallow him whole.

“Spill.”

"I told you, Ravonna. I was sick." Mobius places his stuff down on his desk, turning his back to his co-workers. 

"With what? Flesh-eating bacteria?" Sylvie asks, pressing his fingers against the visible mark. He jerks his head away. 

"Don't do that." He glares at the blonde, who laughs at his sour facial expressions. 

"How do you think the bosses will react when I tell them that you took a week off for a booty call." Ravonna crosses her arms, the very picture of displeasure. 

"Who? Stark? He'll probably congratulate him and give him a raise." Bea snarks. She might be right, though. 

"I'm only going to ask one more time. Where were you?" 

Mobius sighs, running his hand across his face, more than frustrated. 

"Fine! If you have to know," Mobius knows he's giving her attitude, but he doesn't care. "I was mugged on my way to work. They stole my wallet and roughed me up quite a bit. I didn't want to talk about it because I was kinda embarrassed. I have some other bruises on my neck, and I thought I covered them all, but I guess I missed a spot."

It's somewhat believable, they do live and work in New York city after all.

“And you were able to call in almost immediately?” Ravonna doesn’t seem quite as challenging, though still every bit as terrifying. Mobius should have come up with a story last night. 

“I fought back,” Mobius says, embarrassment edging on legitimate as he shows his partly shattered phone screen. After his second call, he tossed it, forgetting that the warehouse floor was concrete. 

“How are you not dead?”

“By the grace of God, Sylv.” He should have just said he hooked up with someone last night. There would’ve been fewer questions. “I used to box, y’know.”

“‘We should see the other guy,’ right?” Casey doesn’t seem ingenuine. He’s too kind for his own good. 

“Barely left a mark.” Mobius should probably start going back to the gym anyway. If Loki had been some other European war criminal, he would’ve at least liked to put up a decent fight. 

“Look, I thought I might’ve had a concussion, and I didn’t want to come in and stare at a screen all day and make it worse.” With all the manhandling, that’s a surprise Loki didn’t give him one. Explaining that to a neurologist might be worse than getting bullied by his coworkers. “I didn’t; I’m good now; I’m sorry I missed a week.”

"Well, don't let it happen again." Ravonna half teases, yet is half serious. 

"Yes ma'am." He gives her a mocking two-finger salute. She gives him a stern nod and departs from his desk. 

"I'm really glad that you're okay." Casey smiles warmly, and it looks like he wants to hug Mobius. 

"Good to see you too, kid." He gives the younger man a genuine smile. Casey is always a joy to be around. He's just a sweet guy. 

"We have a meeting this afternoon at two. Don't be late." Bea reminds, turning to go to her desk.

"Will do." He calls at her retreating back.

He sighs and looks playfully at Sylvie. "You got anything else to add?" 

She has an odd look on her face, and her gaze flicks between Mobius's neck and face. 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, why?" 

"It was only a mugging, right?" Sylvie drops her voice, sounding genuinely concerned. 

Mobius is confused for all of two seconds before it clicks. He softens his facial expression and gives her an appreciative smile. 

"I'm okay, Sylvie. Just a mugging." He assures her. She searches his face for a long moment before nodding more to herself than Mobius. 

"Good. Now get your ass back to work."

Mobius flips her off, she sneers, and all is right with the world. 

He trudges through his work, trying not to daydream, but the more he pushes it away, the stronger they return. It’s hard to focus on anything this monotonous without godly distractions. The little boxes of his spreadsheet stare back at him as he hides a soft smile behind another mug of coffee. It’s not enough caffeine, but the thought of getting an energy drink would just pile onto the dreamy nostalgia. There are reports that need reviewing. 

In the back of his mind, he tells himself this is temporary, like how he starts thinking about how cozy his bed is when he’s about to walk out the door. Time will ease things up on him. By the time that meeting rolls around he’ll be right back to normal. 

Loki was more than cozy, though. 

Mobius has gone into his head at work before, but usually, it’s purely academic- an article or overly pretentious paper he’s in the middle of reading or writing that refuses to let go of him. There’s less guilt in being preoccupied with the pursuit of knowledge than thoughts of cutting work to lay in bed with a wanted man.

Pushing back from his desk, Mobius rubs his tired eyes and looks around the office. He’ll zone in on anything if it helps him get through this. 

Casey types away at his keyboard, moving to the beat of the music blaring in his headphones, almost loud enough for Mobius to hear. He can’t tell if there are words, but judging by the beat, it’s definitely not something Mobius would know.

On the other side of the office, Bea has saddled up next to Sylvie, debating different ways to edit something down. He knows Sylvie will end up going with whatever Bea thinks is best, no matter how many options they go over. She’s her favorite.

Mobius straightens up to see what Ravonna’s doing, half hoping she’s at least got some weird little S.H.E.L.D. file open. Her screen is tilted so that all he can see is glare. Damn. Mobius slumps again just as an intern rises from their desk and starts toward their door.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, focus returned to him. Mobius returned to his work and started typing out something. The pressure to seem invested was all he needed to get back on track. 

He knows it’s selfish to make the others deal with it, but if this kid asks him one of those stupid little questions, he can’t be held responsible for what happens.

Mobius somehow manages to get through his day. It's long and slow but somehow, he gets through. 

The meeting went fine, though he'd be hard-pressed to remember what was discussed, and he's sure he didn't contribute much. 

His walk back to his apartment is just as uneventful as his walk to work was. It's normal and should be comforting. Yet it's not. 

His evening routine almost bores him to tears: dinner, mindless TV, and doing the dishes. The one slight change is when he goes to water his plant only to remember it's dead. Maybe tomorrow after work, he'll go get a new one. That would really shake things up. 

When Mobius curls up in his bed that evening, his mind can't help but wonder. He knows the more he fights it, the more his mind will be drawn towards Loki, so he lets it go. 

He thinks over the little bit of conversations the two of them had. 

'He's not my type.'

'He's everyone's type. 

That little exchange didn't register at the moment, but now it strikes him as odd. One doesn't have a doctorate in Mythology without knowing about all different kinds.

In Greek mythology, everyone is related, meaning everyone sleeps with their sisters, brothers, aunts, or uncles. He's come to understand that myths and facts aren't the same. 

But does Loki want to... Sleep with Thor? They're not really related, not by blood, but from Thor's stories, they are brothers in every other way. 

The side of his bed dips as a weight suddenly appears on it. Mobius shoots straight up, and before he can say or do anything, lips are pressed against his own. A hand wraps around his waist as the intruder's face pulls back. 

"You were thinking about me." Loki purrs smugly. "I couldn't resist." 

Mobius feels himself relax a bit. He nearly had a heart attack before he knew it was Loki, thinking someone had broken into his apartment.

"I'm sorry. I hope I wasn't distracting you from anything important." 

"Oh, you were, but it was the best type of distraction." Loki ducks his head down and nips at Mobius's clothed collarbone. The man lets out a soft moan and brings a hand up to the back of Loki's hair, fingers tangling in the long locks. 

"I- uh- I have a question for you." Mobius struggles to speak as Loki kisses his way up Mobius's neck, coming to a stop right below his ear. 

"Ask away." The god whispers, his breath tickling his ear, causing goosebumps to rise. 

"Do you want to-" He cuts himself off, rephrasing the question. "Are you attracted to Thor?" 

Loki pulls back, hand still around Mobius's waist. "I beg your pardon?" He sounds genuinely shocked, clearly not having expecting that. Mobius almost feels bad for dropping it on him like that.

“Back.. before, you said he was ‘everyone’s type’,” Mobius makes a small gesture. “You are a part of everyone.”

The look on his face sours more, but Mobius can’t quite tell what it means.  “He is my brother.”

“You have to know that that’s not a ‘No’, right?”

Loki’s hand wavers on his waist. Mobius is intimately aware of how easily he could leave the conversation and how easy it would be to never see him again. He thinks he would do just about anything to have him stay, but he has to know. 

“In many different polytheistic religions, the gene pool is fairly small,” Mobius says gently. It’s an educational tone; the only way he can make himself sound neutral about the idea. “Most notably Greco-Roman myth, most of the Gods are married to their siblings.”

“I am not Greco-Roman.” Loki sounds defensive, and he has every right to be. Mobius doesn’t mention Njörðr out of respect. 

It takes Loki a moment to compose the thought, clearly trying to get his intention across with the fewest words possible: “Warriors are favored in Asgard. My brother has been known to garner the favor of many. That was all that I had meant.”

“So, no?”

“No.”

“Oh, thank God.” The tension in Mobius’s posture is lifted as he falls forward, face in his hands.

There's an uncomfortable silence that settles between them. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He really didn't. Mobius could have brought it up differently and handled it more delicately. 

"I will admit, that was not what I was expecting." Loki's words are measured. "However, I suppose I can understand where you would get that notion, as unpleasant as it might be." 

"I have an idea. Why don't we not bring up your brother, especially during sex." Loki laughs at the blunt nature of Mobius's words. 

"I think that's an excellent idea." 

Mobius leans forward, resting his face against the curve between Loki's neck and shoulder. Somehow, he managed not to completely fuck this up, and Loki isn't running away. 

Fingers gently run up and down the back of Mobius's neck. This is all strangely sweet. Loki's been soft with him before, especially between rounds when Mobius's muscles felt like jelly. But this is different; it feels almost domestic.

Loki's fingers trace around to the side of his neck, resting over the healing mark. The mark that caused him so much trouble today at work. Mobius begins laughing quietly before getting louder. 

He pulls away from Loki, and the God looks down at him with a slightly worried, confused look. 

"Sorry. It's just-" Mobius chuckles. "You, sir, have caused me a lot of trouble today." 

Loki tempers his apprehension into mild confusion, fingers still tracing the bruise. “I did?”

“Turns out, showing up after a week covered in bite marks makes people ask questions.” 

Mobius smiles despite himself, looking down to his lap as he takes Loki’s hand in his own. “My team ganged up on me the second I got in the door. Wanted to know who I’d been with, called me a whore, threatened to tell Stark.”

Loki shifts uncomfortably, making him look up. There’s something in his eyes, somewhere between rage and hurt. “Mobius-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, it’s fine.” Mobius cuts him off before he can begin any sort of apology or threat. “They’re my friends. Sort of.”

“Friends?” Loki seems to doubt that. Do Asgardians not bully each other? “They insulted and threatened you.”

“Yeah. That’s what friends do.” Mobius can’t soften his grin. He loves them dearly, even if he’d die before he admitted it. “Stark wouldn’t’ve done anything, and being kinda mean to each other is how we show we care.”

The anger muddles into confusion. “How does insulting your virtue show care?”

Mobius chokes down a laugh, disguising it as clearing his throat. Everything they’ve done, and Loki still thinks he has virtue? “We have an understanding about it.”

Loki seems to accept that, at least for the moment, and Mobius angles back to what he had started to say. “They could tell I’d been mauled by some pretty boy and wanted to know who he was. So I panicked and said I got mugged.”

"Mugged?" 

"Yeah, it's when-" Loki stops him, covering his mouth with a hand. 

"I am aware of what it means. What I am confused about is how that would explain this?" A gentle touch caresses Mobius's neck, and, seeing as Mobius can see both of Loki's hands, it's clear he is using his magic to do so. 

Loki removes his hand from Mobius's mouth, his magic still dancing over the human's skin. It takes all Mobius has not to lean into the touch that's not really there. 

"Oh, it didn't. At all." Mobius chuckles. "In fact, it just caused one of my coworkers, Sylvie, to worry. I think you'd like her." He says thoughtfully. "The two of you would either get along wonderfully or kill eachother."

"Is she the 'friend' that called you a whore?" Loki raises an eyebrow, and Mobius suddenly realizes that maybe he shouldn't have told Loki that part. He didn't think the God would take it so seriously. Both because she was just teasing him, and because it's not like they're dating or anything. 

Right? 

Mobius shoves that thought to the very back of his mind. Spending one week fucking a guy doesn't mean they're a couple, especially Loki. He's a God, and Mobius is just a human. Loki's obviously just playing with him until he gets bored. 

"Yeah."All those thoughts happened in less than the blink of an eye. 

"Then I doubt that I would like her very much." Loki speaks with such finality that Mobius knows there's no point in arguing with him. Not now, anyway. 

"I did offer to heal it." Loki reminds him. 

"I know. I didn't want you to. I still don't. I like knowing it's there. It makes me feel-" Mobius cuts himself off. He doesn't want to finish that sentence. Doesn't know how to finish that sentence. 

Cherished? Wanted? Owned? Love?

"How about this?" Loki places his fingers, his actual fingers, not magic ones, on the mark. Mobius feels a rush of something rush across it. "Now you can still see it, as can I, but no one else will be able to."

Mobius feels a rush of appreciation. Both for what Loki just did and that he didn't push. Mobius leans forward and kisses Loki firmly. 

"Thank you." He whispers against the God's lips.

Loki responds with another kiss, far softer than Mobius’s. His thumb sweeps against the delicate space just below his jaw. Something aching blooms from within his rib cage, silent and consuming. 

Loki pulls away, lingering a hair’s breadth from kissing him again. Mobius’s heart thuds in his chest as the vines that had encircled it slink like tendrils back into the unknowable place from which they sprang.  Mobius feels the movement of his lips more than he hears his murmured 'Thank you.'

Thank him? Mobius doesn’t have the words to respond, if he can speak at all. 

He reaches out to Loki, to the small mark on his collar bone, unsure that the God will still be there, if he ever was. The softest hitch in his breath forms a lump in Mobius’s throat. 

The bruises he had left before this had faded quickly, and he hadn’t had the chance to see most of them. It’s been too long for it not to have healed. Something in his stomach twists at the thought that Loki wanted to keep his marks, too. 

Prayer calls to him a servant to God, and in a way other than intended, Mobius calls this moment holy. Through the sacred invocation, he offers Loki his ache. He does not push, not like before, simply holding it out for the other man to feel at the edges of his consciousness. 

The feeling returns, light and heavy at once, as Loki offers longing just the same. He feels the press of teeth against his collarbone, phantom, as the warmth grows just beneath the verdant garden of his chest. For a moment, there is relief, and then desire matures from sunlight to body heat. 

In the memory, there’s a question, one Mobius answers by pressing into his bruise and taking Loki in a kiss. 

Loki kisses back, gently pushing Mobius back against the bed, lips not leaving eachother—their clothes with a simple thought from the God. 

Loki is gentle, making love to Mobius. Whispering words of praise against every inch of skin he can touch. 

Mobius feels more loved and cherished than he ever has. Loki brings him to orgasm time and time before spilling inside the human. 

Mobius, more asleep than awake, rolls half on top of the God when he collapses onto the mattress. 

He knows that Loki will likely be gone before he wakes up, but that doesn't stop him from enjoying the comfort of being held as he drifts off.

Chapter Text

The morning comes, as most do for Mobius, with his phone alarm blaring from his nightstand. He blindly slaps at it until it shuts off, burying his face in his pillows again. Just a few more minutes. He’ll be on time; it’ll all be fine. 

“Has something happened?”

Mobius drags himself out of his pillow to see a barely awake Loki lying beside him. He’s haloed by the light peaking through the blinds. Mobius will think of some religious metaphor for it later, but he’s pretty and hard to look at. 

“It’s nothing, Loki. Go back to sleep.” 

Loki reaches out for him, trying to draw him back into the mess of blankets. What he says is muffled, something about hold and pet, which would have been eagerly heeded two days ago. 

Mobius twists to check the time. He may have enough time to get a good shower if he’s willing to have a stack of energy bars for breakfast. Cuddling his b-estest pal Loki will definitely make him late. 

Mobius sets his phone back with a clatter, looking over at the sleepy God. His heart does a thing and Jesus could there be a worse time? 

“I gotta go, baby.” Mobius’s resolve starts to melt as Loki whines at him. He kisses his shoulder, not wanting to risk getting trapped in soft morning kisses. “You can hold me when I get back, I promise.” 

"Can't you just say you were mugged again?" Loki tries to grab Mobius, but the human slips out of his grasp. 

"If I tell them that, I'm sure they'll assign me a security guard just to make sure I can get to work  without being attacked." Mobius jokes. Loki mumbles something but Mobius pointedly ignores him. He doesn't have time for an argument. 

He slips into the shower, having to take a bit longer to clean the traces of last night still clinging to his skin. 

He ends up taking longer than he meant to and has to rush out the door. He grabs a granola bar and calls out to Loki. 

"I'll be back at the end of the day, " he says as he closes the door, not waiting to hear Loki's response—or, worse, the lack thereof, which would mean Loki's already left. 

The workday drags by, seemingly taking years to end. Usually, after work, he sticks around for a bit and socializes with his co-workers, but not tonight. 

Mobius earns a few odd glances as he rushes home immediately after his shift is over. He forces himself to stop outside his door, taking a deep breath, preparing for whatever he'll find when he opens it. 

What he sees is Loki lounging across his couch, dressed in the same soft cotton outfit that he wore for a moment last week. His bright blue eyes leave the page and seem to pin Mobius to the spot.

"You're home."

It’s a small miracle Mobius doesn’t drop everything to be in his arms. He’s home. Loki is still here. 

Some part of him will obsess over Loki’s use of ‘home’ instead of ‘back’ and the ramifications of that, but for now, he sets his work bag down by the door and takes off his coat. He’s Home. 

A bookmark appears on the page, and then the book appears on the table. Mobius follows that little touch of magic too closely, not catching Loki using it on himself to cross the apartment a few seconds faster. He does notice the loosening of his tie, looking up to see the sweetest smile on his face. 

Loki tugs lightly on the fabric, appreciating it for a moment before bringing Mobius into a kiss. He takes Loki’s waist, pulling the other man to him. As they part, one of them mumbles a soft ‘Missed you.’ It may have been both. 

Mobius lets his hands linger on Loki momentarily, as if steadying him, while his attentions shift back to his tie. Once untied, he takes it, wrapping the fabric around his hand.

Mobius steps aside, moving around Loki to start winding down. He looks back over his shoulder as he shrugs off his blazer. “How was your day?” 

“Long,” Loki sighs as he reappears on the couch, continuing to fidget with the tie. “You were gone for ages.”

He was here? Mobius swallows thickly as he starts working on his buttons. Loki spent the day waiting for him to come home. That’s cool. Nothing to think about there. 

“I got back as soon as I could.” Mobius had half hoped Loki would still be asleep. He felt bad for waking him.

“I’m sure.” Loki gives him a soft smile, and his heart does the Thing again. “Do you recall the promise you made before you left?”

“I do.” He hasn’t been able to think about much of anything else. Who would want to? 

He takes a half step forward and remembers that he just got home. He makes an awkward gesture, to which Loki nods understandingly and slips into his bedroom. 

He returns moments later in lounge pants and an old band tee. Loki spreads out slightly, inviting him to lie together. 

Mobius ends up mostly lying on Loki’s chest. Bracketing his legs with his own, Loki envelops him in his arms. Mobius tucks into Loki’s neck, sighing contentedly. He’s home.

Mobius begins to doze off at some point, only to be woken by a stomach rumbling loudly. It takes him longer than he would like to admit to realize that his stomach made that sound. He feels the rumble of Loki's chuckle, and Mobius tries desperately not to blush.

"Is my Midguardian hungry?" Loki teases softly, fingers playing with the short hairs on the back of Mobius's neck. 

"Don't know what gave you that idea." Mobius grumbles. He tightens his grip on the God before sighing and pushing himself into a sitting position. 

"I probably should eat something." He stretches his arms out, sighing contently when he feels a crack. "I've only had a handful of breakfast bars and a mug of coffee from work."

"You should eat more than that, darling." Loki drapes himself over Mobius's back. The human is sure he can hear, if not feel, his heart beat pick up. 'Darling'? It's official: Loki really is trying to kill him, but he's using a blissfully cruel tactic. 

"Yeah, I know, but I had work to catch up on from last week, so I just worked right through my lunch break." He pushes himself to his feet, wandering over to his drawer of take-out menus, flipping through them to find one he wants. 

"Do you have any preference?" Mobius asks the God. Loki makes his way over and looks over Mobius's shoulder. 

"What is this?" He plucks one of the menus and looks at it with a frown, brow furrowing. 

"It's Chinese food. Do you not like Chinese food?" 

"I don't believe I've ever had it." 

Mobius looks at him with wide, unbelieving eyes, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Shut up." 

Loki raises an eyebrow at him, still clearly confused. 

"You've never had Chinese food?"

"I don't believe so."

"That's it." Mobius snatches the menus from Loki's hand. "We're getting one of everything."

Loki is left confused as Mobius pats himself down and then goes back to his bedroom to get his wallet and phone. 

His week of not ordering in has inflated his dinner budget enough for this to be only mildly unreasonable. He just hopes the poor delivery people can forgive him. 

The number is saved in his contacts, favorited between Ravonna and poison control. He’s taken Loki’s lack of knowledge personally. 

He holds his phone between his shoulder and ear, pacing back into the kitchen. 

“Heeey,” Mobius smiles as the man on the other end recognizes his voice. “I’m not dead! You’re gonna wish I was.” 

Loki stands by the drawer, studying this strange summoning ritual. He straightens up at the mention of Mobius’s death, only to be waved off the second he’s noticed. 

Mobius ends his call quickly, asking that his apologies be passed to the kitchen. He pivots on his heel to look at Loki. “So.. chopsticks.”

“Chopsticks.” There’s no recognition in Loki’s voice. Fuck. Mobius should’ve figured. 

“They’re utensils.” Mobius pulls two sets out of a drawer as he slides back in next to Loki, offering him a pair. “You could use a fork, yeah, but you’ll have to leave my home immediately.” 

"Truly? Chopsticks are that important?" Mobius almost feels bad for messing with Loki. He's admittedly out of his depth and sounds worried that Mobius might kick him out. 

Almost. 

"They're vital." Mobius nods solemnly. "However, I might be persuaded to give you a pass, but you've got to at least try the chopsticks first." 

"If it's that important to you, I won't disappoint you." Mobius smiles, pulling the God down into a kiss. 

They pass the time until the food arrives, and they get to know each other better by asking all the dumb little questions you ask on a first date because that really is what this is—a first date.

At one point, Mobius asks Loki what his favorite color is and receives an amused smile. Green, of course. 

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation. Loki is on his feet, dagger in hand, in between Mobius and the door in an instant. 

"Woah. Easy. I'm sure it's just the delivery guy." Mobius assures the God, slipping over to the door. He opens it halfway, keeping Loki from being seen. 

He takes the food with a smile, leaving the kid a generous tip. Once the door is closed, Loki takes the bags with his magic, placing them on the counter without moving an inch. 

"Show off."

Loki grins as he follows Mobius into the kitchen. “I believe you mean ‘thank you’.”

“Mhm, pretty sure I don’t.” Mobius plucks a knife from the block, cutting the knots off the bags and unloading the boxes efficiently. This is mostly muscle memory, the only change being Loki’s magic transporting the boxes from the counter to the table. Maybe he is a little helpful. 

One container is labeled with NUT and, after he gets past the heh, nut, he remembers why they put that there. 

“Hey, Lokes?” Loki hums, and Mobius looks up to see the God leaning against his counter, watching him work. It should be illegal to look that pretty. Fuck. “Uh, you don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Me neither.” Mobius should have paid attention in school. He was wrong; science is actually very important. “It’s like, your body hates something, so if you come into contact with it, you might die? It happens a lot with food.”

Loki blinks, his brow furrowing. “You consider this.. normal?”

“Yeah?” Mobius shrugs. “They’re super common.”

"I'm... Not quite sure that I wish to partake in Midguardian food anymore." Loki eyes the food wearily. 

"You'll be fine." God's can be so dramatic.  Mobius finishes opening the containers. "Dig in." 

Loki hesitantly looks from Mobius to the food. He holds the chopsticks delicately in his hand. In a flash, he swings his arm down, stabbing the wooden stick through a chunk of something. 

"That's not how- okay." Mobius isn't going to fight him on that. 

Mobius makes sure Loki tries everything, and he seems to enjoy most of it. He stabs everything with the chopsticks, and Mobius tries hard not to laugh every time.

There’s a fury in his eyes that really shouldn’t be that cute. He’s like an excited house pet batting at a colorful toy. As long as he doesn’t explode the box, he can keep murdering his dinner. 

Mobius stacks boxes as they empty, moving them to a corner. He’s missed this, just having a comfortable night in. With his work and his studies, he’s been so busy these last few months. Frivolous self-care fell to the wayside in exchange for an overwhelming course load from a university on another continent. 

Anxiety about his education bursts into the back of his mind. He left for a whole week. A week. He’s fucked. Totally and completely fucked. He might as well drop those classes he’s in; there’s no way he’s going to get those credits now. 

Mobius lets the fear take him, panic twisting like a knife in his gut, and then forces down. He has a schedule. His next education-based meltdown is set for Wednesday evening, and he’s not moving it up. 

He takes a deep breath, centering himself, and then nudges Loki with his elbow. “Something wrong with your rice?”

Loki looks at the nearly untouched box and then at his sauce-coated spear sticks. “I have found it... uncooperative.” 

Mobius doesn’t bother stopping his laugh. He sets his sticks down, taking Loki’s hand and rearranging his grip. “It works better if you use them like this.”

Loki clicks the chopsticks together apprehensively, but with an encouraging nod from Mobius, he captures a small amount of rice. 

His hold shifts slightly, and they fall back into their container. “You might have to practice.”

Loki tries several more times, failing each time. The God is getting frustrated, so Mobius takes pity on him and reaches out. 

"Here, let me help." Mobius picks up some rice with his own chopsticks and raises them to Loki's mouth. Without hesitation, Loki takes the food into his mouth.

They quickly finish the rest of the food, and Mobius feeds Loki more rice every so often.

"Well? What did you think?" 

"It was... Agreeable." 

Mobius rolls his eyes. Agreeable his ass. He knows full well that if Loki didn't enjoy it, he wouldn't have eaten all of it. 

"Sure." Mobius collects the boxes and tosses the empty ones in the trash. "What do you say we move to the bedroom?"

Mobius doesn't realize the condition of what he just said until Loki smiles deviously at him, wrapping an arm around him, resting on the small of his back, and pulls him flush against the God. 

"Sounds like a marvelous idea." He all but purrs. 

"Loki... I don't...." He tries to figure out the best way to tell this man, the one with whom his relationship has been almost purely physical, that he's not down to clown tonight. 

"It's alright," Loki softly assures him. If you don't wish to do anything this night, then we don't have to."

"I'm really sorry." Mobius knows he shouldn't be apologizing, not for this. It's unhealthy to do so, yet he doesn't want Loki to feel hurt or rejected. "I understand if you don't want to stick around."

"I would hold you, if you let me."

“If you’re sure.” Mobius half expects him to say no, to pat his side and say he just remembered he has jury duty in the morning and has to go back to his place. 

“I am certain.” His tone is gentle but leaves no doubt in Mobius’s mind. His chest tightens as Loki caresses his cheek. 

They make their way back to the bedroom, where Mobius finally gets a good look at the state they left it in. 

Loki seems unfazed, stretching as he goes to reinsert himself into the chaos. He pauses when he sees Mobius no longer in stride with him. “Something the matter?”

“I’m not upset,” he prefaces his question, hoping that will make Loki less worried. “But did you make a nest?”

Loki moves a little uneasily. “Perhaps.”

The blankets that Mobius usually finds strewn across the bed in disarray are now artfully curled around each other, bolstered by interior pillows, to create an almost perfect cocoon. The only imperfection was the wall break that must have allowed Loki to escape when he finally got up. 

“You…” Mobius trails off. It was probably magic, but Jesus Christ, Loki made this? 

“You are quite warm,” Loki says quietly. “I was cold without you.” 

Odd. Mobius would think it would be almost impossible for him to get cold, seeing as he is so closely associated with fire. Some sources even consider Loki to be the God of it, as well as him being half-frost giant. 

Mobius opens his mouth to say as much, but decides against it. Something in his gut tells him it's a question for another day, and after all, Mobius is quite tired. 

Instead, he lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. Getting on the bed, he crawls over one of the walls and settles in. Loki still hovers next to the bed, so Mobius reaches out and yanks him down onto the bed. The God falls almost gracefully and immediately curls around Mobius. 

Mobius presses his head against Loki's chest. He can hear his heart beating, which relaxes him further. He closes his eyes, letting himself slowly drift off. 

Right before he's fully asleep, a thought crosses his mind, and Mobius is too far gone not to ask. 

"Loki?" The God in question sleepily hums back, showing that he's listening. "Do all God's sleep this much?"

"No." 

"Ok." Mobius lapses back into silence for a minute before asking the next obvious question. "Why do you?"

Loki sighs and sits up. Mobius opens his eyes and pushes himself up onto his elbow. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

"I know." Loki cuts him off. I am not angry. It's just... Recently, there was something I went through—experienced that—" Loki sighs, rubbing his hand across his forehead. 

"I'm still quite weak from it. I need to sleep quite a bit more often than I usually would to rebuild my strength. I need to get stronger, stronger than I was before, because I refuse to go through it again."

Mobius regrets asking. Not because he doesn't want Loki to be able to talk to him about these things, but because he's never heard him sound so distressed. Mobius moves behind him, wrapping his arms around his God and placing a kiss against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry." 

"I don't need your pity." The words have no bite; instead, he almost sounds like he's pleading.

“This isn’t pity.” Mobius rests against Loki’s shoulder. The man is a God; Mobius doesn’t think his life is full of pure and happy things, but has he not been shown genuine care? 

They lapse into silence. Loki is tense, his back and shoulders broadened, as he had been when he thought the delivery boy was here to attack them. 

Mobius can’t keep him safe; he’s too aware to offer, much less try, but at least in some small way, he can try to help. If nothing else, he can share his bed. 

There’s a light touch to the back of his hand as Loki slowly covers it with his own.

Mobius mentally kicks himself. Why did he have to ask? Why couldn't he have just let it be? 

He turns his hand over and gently squeezes the God's. They just sit there for a while, Mobius holding Loki, trying to comfort him, and Loki letting him. 

"Come," Loki breaks the silence. You need rest." He lies back down, pulling Mobius down on top of him. The human doesn't fight; he lets the God arrange him how he needs. 

Mobius ends up almost entirely over the God, head resting on his chest, Loki's arms holding him firmly against him. 

Mobius doesn't sleep well. He keeps waking up and just looking at Loki. Thankfully, Loki manages to fall asleep. Mobius watches him, happy to see his face look so relaxed.

Chapter Text

He ends up turning his alarm off an hour early so it doesn’t wake him. The God’s sleep has seemed good, or at the very least not fitful while Mobius was awake. 

Mobius watches his chest rise and fall, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Sunlight creeps in, the city rumbling softly outside the window in lieu of birdsong.

He has to leave; there’s no way he can stay home, and even if he could, he doesn’t know how that would play out. Loki may have said he wasn't angry, but that doesn’t mean things wouldn’t be nearly painfully awkward. 

Mobius will definitely be late, but he can’t will himself to worry about that just yet. He lingers as it gets closer to when he has to go, stripping down his morning routine to the bare necessities. He can function on nothing but coffee and Bang. He has done so before, and he will again. 

He pries himself from Loki’s hold, his heart all but breaking as the God tries to keep him in his arms. Mobius shushes him gently, replacing himself with a pillow to which Loki clings.

It’s a mad dash to get ready, but Mobius makes sure to leave a note on the nightstand for when Loki wakes up. He can’t go without saying goodbye

Work is routine and boring. Nothing special happens, except for one thing. Thor looks at him strangely, intently. 

"Everything alright?" Mobius asks, nerves twisting in his stomach. 

"Something is different about you. I noticed it the other day, but it is stronger now." 

"Different? Different how?" Mobius fidgets. It's not like Thor can tell that he's been fucking his brother somehow, right?

"I don't know. Something familiar. It's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't place it." 

Crap. Maybe he can.

"Ah well, I'm sure it's nothing." Mobius panicked for the majority of the day. Thor can’t tell now, but what about tomorrow? The day after? 

There are a few times when he reaches for his phone, wanting to text Loki and be reassured that Thor can’t sense his magic on him, but then he remembers the God is probably sleeping and does not have a phone. 

His worry about being found out is distracted by his overthinking of getting Loki a phone. It’s a different, more comfortable kind of fear. 

He idles at the end of the day, despite how much he wants to book it down the block and drown himself in his textbooks. 

They eventually let him go when he mentions something about having a week’s worth of runes to translate. He’s sent off with three good nights and one “fucking Nerd”.

It takes all of his self-restraint not to run home. 

“Loki?” Mobius calls into the apartment the second he steps foot inside. The door is locked and bolted behind him. He doesn’t know if the God is even here, but if this doesn’t count as a prayer what would? “I think Thor knows.”

He hears a noise from the bedroom, and he rushes over. He sees Loki sitting up in the bed, clearly just waking up. His eyes are slightly squinted, and his hair is a mess that can only come from waking up. 

Mobius pauses for a second, just taking in the sight because, holy crap, how is it possible for a literal God to look this adorable? 

"Hi." Loki is trying not to sound half asleep, but he fails. 

"Hi." Mobius smiles. "I think Thor knows." 

"Oh." Loki says. After a beat, his eyes go wide as the realization hits. " Oh ."

"Yeah." Mobius takes his jacket off, throwing it on the edge of the bed. 

"How? Did you say anything?" Loki hasn't risen from the bed, but every muscle is coiled tight, ready to pounce. 

"Of course not. He said something was different about me, something he recognizes but just can't name. And then he was staring at me weirdly for the rest of the day.” 

Loki stands, begining to pace around the room. "It's possible that he- no. Thor is much to stupid for that." Loki is speaking to himself, but that doesn't mean that  Mobius doesn't hear him. 

"Too stupid for what?" 

"Asguardians are sometimes able to detect and recognize sorcery, especially if it's from a source that they're often exposed to. But to do so, they usually have to have at least some low level of magic abilities themselves, which Thor absolutely does not have."

Mobius doesn't see how that translates to Thor being stupid, but hey, sometimes you just have to insult your sibling. It's perfectly normal.

“I mean, just because he’s never done anything doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the ability.” Loki scrunches his nose at him, both doubting and far too cute.

“He is Frigga’s son,” Mobius continues. His understanding of myth and fact blur the lines here, and not for the first time; he wishes he knew more about science. “She’s an incredibly powerful magic user, and Odin uses it too, to some extent. How would that ability just skip a generation?”

The color seems to drain from Loki’s face at the suggestion. “He’s never been trained. He wouldn’t know how to even begin…”

“Maybe he doesn’t?” It’s a hope more than a suggestion. “He’s been exposed to your magic a lot; maybe it just registers subconsciously?”

Loki takes a moment to consider, running a hand through his still messy hair. He doesn’t use his magic to fix it, which Mobius assumes is an indicator of just how serious this is. 

It may have just been the missing hickeys or a step Mobius has been skipping in his morning routine to spend more time with Loki, but in the worst-case scenario, how do they fix this? Is Loki able to disguise his magic? Would that even work against someone who’s known him their entire lives?

"This doesn't make sense!" He yells the last word, hands curling into fists by his side. His eyes clench shut, and he takes deep breaths, clearly trying to calm himself. 

Mobius crosses over to where the God is standing. Mobius takes both of the other man's fists in his hands, bringing them up to his mouth and planting a kiss on them one, and then the other. 

"It's okay. We'll figure this out." Mobius doubts he can do much, but he can try. As unlikely as it is, perhaps the answer will be in one of his school books. 

Loki sighs before letting a wave of his magic roll over himself. In the blink of an eye, he's as put together as he was when he kidnapped Mobius. Eyes still shut, he leans his forehead against the man infront of him. 

"I have to go." He whispers. Mobius jerks back, looking up at him. Loki refuses to open his eyes. 

"What? No." Mobius argues. 

"Mobius-" 

"I don't want you to leave." 

"I do not want to leave you either! But I refuse to loose you." Loki opens his eyes, and Mobius can see a mix of emotions burning through them. "You have been mine for only a few weeks, and already I refuse to let anything take you from me, especially  not if I can prevent it." 

Mobius has no response. What could he really say? Loki takes a breath, calming himself once again. 

"I have to research this. And to do so I have to travel to different realms. I would offer to take you with me, I wish to do so, but I cannot guarantee your safety."

“Safety? Fuck safety.” How can Mobius hide away and protect himself if Loki is out there, potentially endangering his life? “I’m not- You’re not doing this alone.”

“No, Mobius.” Loki says it gently, but his words are final. “I cannot.. If you were to be captured-“

The conversation from the night before rings back in Mobius’s mind. This isn’t about Thor. His abduction probably wasn’t, either. There’s something at work here that Loki hasn’t told him about. 

“We have sources here,” Mobius offers softly. His textbooks go in depth about so much, at least one has to have legitimate knowledge about magic. He’s never put any weight in the crystal shops he passes on his way to work before, but maybe neopagans know something. “I’ll research from here. Maybe I’ll find something.”

Loki hums, nodding shortly. He probably doubts Midgardian knowledge on the subject just as much as Mobius, but he accepts the concession for what it is. 

“I-“ Mobius knows what he wants to say, but Loki is so tightly wound in this moment, how can that help? “Let me know you’re okay?” 

"I will." Loki promises. "And, if anything happens, call for me, and I will be by your side in an instant."

Mobius nods, his mouth too dry to speak. Loki steps back into Mobius's space and gently places a hand beneath his face, leading him to tilt up and into a kiss. 

"Mobius, if something happens and I don't return-"

"Don't." Mobius cuts him off. He doesn't want to talk about Loki not making it back, about him dying or worse. 

"If I don't return," Loki repeats. "Trust Thor. He and I might not have the best of relationships, but he will protect you."

Instead of an answer, Mobius pulls Loki in for another kiss.

The kiss is deep, desperate in a way that aches. Mobius’s hands dig into the leather padding on Loki’s shoulders, as if holding him tight enough would keep him here. 

Loki’s hand cradles Mobius’s cheek, his hand shaking almost imperceptibly. This is goodbye. Not forever, but it’s close. Too close.

The God vanishes, his touch seeming to linger even after he's gone. It takes more than Mobius would like to admit for him not to drop to his knees and cry. He's known Loki for half a month—that's it. He shouldn't feel like his entire world is ending just because the other man left. He knows it's not healthy, but he can't help it. He feels drawn to Loki, like something is tying their very souls together. 

It's surprisingly difficult for Mobius to fall asleep that night. His bed feels much too big and empty. He's been in relationships before, but even during them he's never had an issue falling asleep alone before. He grabs one of his pillows, one of the ones Loki used to make his nest, and pulls it to his chest. It faintly smells like the other man and fuck, Mobius is crying. 

The next day he's slow and not feeling like doing anything. Still, he makes himself go to work. He ignores all of the worried glances he gets and doesn't rise to Sylvie's bait. Not even Devin's usual stupidity pulls him out of the near numbness he feels. 

When he gets home, the apartment feels too empty. Mobius makes the split-second decision to gather his school books and take them all to the library. Usually, his coursework is able to take his mind off of anything; it's always been his escape. But not now. If anything, it makes him feel worse. 

Eventually, the kind librarian has to kick him out with an apologetic smile. He gathers his books and shoves them into his bag, smiling back at her. It's not her fault that Mobius is still here five minutes after their closing time.

He doesn't want to go home. Not yet. Not without Loki there. It's strange how in just a few days the God was able to completely insert himself into Mobius's life.

He hates this. Mobius’s world has shifted on its axis in the space of a few days, and now he can’t even begin to right himself. 

The weight of his bag grounds him in a cruel parody of how Loki draped himself across his back. Instead of feeling grounded, drunk on sex and godly affection, he just wants to sink into the pavement. 

Storefront signs flicker on as he walks past, the sun starting to set behind the buildings. He could stop for food, maybe chat up a cashier to put off the emptiness that comes with eating alone. 

Mobius sees the Tower and considers just working til he drops. Why go home when he can work all day and cry himself to sleep under his desk every other night?

Loki would definitely kill him for that. He needs to eat and sleep and take care of himself, as much as he hates it. Wallowing will only make it harder. 

The lights inside a small gym catch his eye as he turns a corner, making him pause. He’s never been too terribly good at putting emotions in words, but processing this feeling physically is still getting it out. 

He wavers by a streetlight, watching the activity inside. His time would be best spent working, studying, and researching. The impulsive desire to express his grief through acts of aggression is juvenile and unhealthy. 

Mobius turns away from the gym, making to go back to his apartment. He only makes it a few steps before stoping with a sigh. If he's going to do something unhealthy, this would be the healthiest option. 

As he turns around, making his way across the street towards the gym, he pushes down the small voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe, if he gets stronger, Loki will take him with him next time.

The kid working the counter barely glances up from his phone when Mobius comes in. "Membership number?" He asks dully. 

"I don't have one." Why is Mobius unsure of himself all of a sudden? "I just wanted to come check the place out."

The teen looks up at him, giving Mobius a once over. It occurs to the man how strange he might look. Still dressed in his suit from work, big bag of text books over his shoulder, hair a mess from running his fingers through it, it's sure. Worst of all, his eyes probably look desperate. 

The teen gives Mobius a tour of the gym. It's small, which is nice. The best part is that it's open 24/7. He explains the membership options, and Mobius gets the cheapest one that gives him full access. 

Mobius is sure that the teen is expecting him to leave once he's signed up, perhaps come back another day. Instead, Mobius peels his suit jacket off, rolls up his sleeves, drops his jacket and bag next to one of the punching bags, and goes to town on it. 

He wasn't lying to Sylvie when he said he used to box; it's just been a while.

The first hit makes his knuckles sting and it feels good. In the back of his mind, he knows that exercise releases endorphins, but that’s his limit for neurochemistry. The only science he knows for sure is how not to break his wrists. 

Hopefully, wrists haven’t changed. 

Mobius knows there are accepted forms to boxing and vaguely recalls the dangers of not using them, but the bag can’t hit back, and it’s not like he’s giving it the chance. As long as it doesn’t feel like he’s pulling anything, he’s going to keep going as hard as he can until he physically can’t. 

He’s still in his head, internal monologue rambling on about fighting techniques he barely remembered back in the old days and all the possible things he can devote hours to intensively researching the second he gets home. There’s no mention of anything else.

From the moment that first spark of pain shot through his fist, his world has narrowed to this bag. The cacophony of work and school and magical anxieties quieted by the sound of skin hitting leather. 

He keeps going and going and going until he can't anymore. He's breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face, soaking his clothes. 

Mobius checks the time on his phone. A little after ten. He decides to call it a night, knowing he should probably eat something and shower before going to bed. 

He gathers his things, waving to the teen as he leaves. The cool September air feels great against his flushed skin. He wanders back to his apartment, grabbing left overs from the fridge. He doesn't taste any of it, just shoveling it in his mouth. 

He takes a quick shower and goes to bed. Well, he tries to. No matter how he adjusts, he just can't get comfortable. After an hour of tossing and turning and getting nowhere, Mobius gives up. 

If he's going to be awake, he might as well be useful. He pulls out his books and gets back to work, researching anything that might work.

Anything that will get Loki home to him faster.

He wakes up hunched over his coffee table, drooling on a textbook.

Mobius grimaces as the paper peels away from his face, wiping his cheek on the back of his hand. Disgusting. 

He indulges in his entire morning routine, properly conditioning his hair for the first time in ages. He stares into the shitty grey-brown tile and lets his mind go blank. 

Blank, of course, means random bullshit. When was the last time he cleaned the grout in here? Probably when he moved in. It’s getting close to six months. He should probably do that again. How much cleaning does he have to do?

His Plant. 

Fuck, he has so much shit to do. 

He’s making a mental list of household chores as he walks into work, a second bag over his shoulder with clothes and sensible shoes for his trip to the gym tonight. When he hits a wall with his studies or his research, he’ll indulge in frivolous luxuries like vacuuming. 

Mobius makes it to work ten minutes early, sets up, and buries himself in it. He’s listening to an archaeologist’s study of Viking boat construction, with more essay audios queued up after it. His mind will not be unoccupied for a single second.

Around one o'clock, his earbuds are yanked out of his ears. He turns to tell off whoever did it and, to no one's surprise, there stands Sylvie, earbuds dangling from her fingers and a triumphant smile on her face. 

"Come on, the whole team is going out for lunch, you included." When Mobius reaches out to take his earbuds back, she yanks them out of his grip at the last second. 

"I can't. But you go ahead, have fun." Mobius tells her. He spins his chair around, focusing back on his desk. Either she'll leave his headphones on her way out, or the office we be empty and he can listen to his lectures without them. Either way he'll be fine. 

"Why not? Stark's paying." 

"I have work to do, Sylvie." She scoffs at that. 

"So do we all, but we can spare two hours." 

"Yeah, well, I can't, " He snaps, still looking at his computer screen. I missed a week, and now I have to catch up." 

She grabs the back of his chair and forcefully spins him around. Mobius makes a sound, showing her is displeasure in the action, but she ignores him.

"Here's how it's gonna go. Either you will come to lunch with us, your lovely coworkers and friends willingly, or! I will drag you to lunch, office chair and all. What'll it be?”

Death? Is death an option?

 “I’m just going to bring the mood down, Sylv.” Mobius says with a sigh. He runs a hand over his face, hoping it reads sad and not irritated. “There’s stuff here, and my studies… you’ll have more fun without me.”

“Not possible.” She gives him a look, one that’s pried him from his desk at least a dozen times before. It makes him want to stay even more. “C’mon, we’ll let you talk about your goat cults or whatever.”

It’s a horse cult, and they’ve talked about it at such length that Mobius knows she knows. This is bait, and cheap bait at that. 

“No,” Mobius braces himself for her to start dragging his chair. “I get it. I’m a part of the team, we’re all in this together, but I just can’t. I’ll be there in spirit.”

Despite eating a full breakfast, an entire package of toasted pop tarts, his traitorous stomach growls. Sylvie didn’t even get to snark back. 

“It’s four, well, five against one.” She gives him a pointed look, glancing over her shoulder to what he’s sure is now a pile of Red Bull cans. “If you go quietly, we might carry you out the back way so the interns don’t see.”

He should eat. He needs to carb up before he hits the gym, but two hours? He can’t multitask while talking to them, even as stressed as he is, he won’t ignore them during conversation. There’s so much he can do in two whole hours. This kind of socialization is a luxury he can’t afford.

Sylvie can see that Mobius is debating. She looks around, making sure no one else is within earshot, before lowering her voice. 

"Look, if you ever tell anyone I said this, I will kill you. But I'm worried about you. We all are." This is the most honest that he's ever heard Sylvie. 

"Worried about me? Why?" 

"Why?" Sylvie looks like she wants to slap him, which she probably does. "Mobius, you were gone for a week. We all thought you were sick, but when you came back apparently you were actually mugged? And then you were so happy when you were back, you were on cloud nine. But today and yesterday, you've been acting like someone killed your dog." 

"I don't have a dog."

Sylvie glares at him. "That's not the point, and you know it." Her expression softens. "Come to lunch. Whatever's going on, you can talk to us about it. Or not. Whatever you want to do, as long as you come out with us."

Mobius sags in his chair, but after a long moment he gives one short nod. “Let me save this file.”

Sylvie spins him back around, lingering for a second as he saves and closes out his work. 

She waits until he steps out from behind his desk to set his headphones down, and the hostage situation is officially diffused. 

Once they’re both away from his desk, the usual, boisterous Sylvie reemerges. Significantly shorter than Mobius, she can’t sling an arm around his shoulders, but that doesn’t stop her from trying. 

“Let’s go, gamers.”

Casey hoots softly by the door, and Mobius realizes everyone is ready to go. They’ve been waiting for him.

“I would rather starve than be a gamer,” Mobius continues to walk, still in step with Sylvie, but glances back at his desk solely to make his point. 

“No takebacks, girlboss.”

Chapter Text

Loki has been gone for almost two months—two long, agonizing, torturous months. 

He appears as Mobius is getting ready for work. A bright green flash fills the apartment, and Mobius hears the sounds of something getting knocked over. He rushes out of the bathroom and sees Loki, standing there in his glory. 

Mobius launches himself at the God, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Loki's hands come up to his waist, and he holds him as close as possible. 

"You're back." Mobius gasps, tears streaming down his face. "Oh God, you're finally back." 

"By the Norns, Mobius, I've missed you." Their breaths mingle, neither one of them wanting to pull away first. 

Mobius looks at Loki, really looks at him. Blood streaks across his cheek, his hair hangs messily in his face, and his eyes are tired. 

Mobius steps back and sees Loki's armor covered in blood. The human's heart feels like it stops in his chest. 

"Oh my god, Loki." 

"Don't worry, not all of it's mine." Loki tries to assure him, but he goes to step to Mobius, and his leg almost gives out from under him.

"Shit." Mobius rushes to help him to the sofa, taking a good portion of the God's weight. 

"I figured it out. Mobius, we can be safe now." He cups the side of Mobius's face with a hand, looking at him excitedly, seemingly not noticing that he's hurt.

Loki doesn’t go gracefully to the couch. He half sprawls, the arm supporting his upper back. He looks casual. Mobius feels panic starting to take hold. 

“What happened?” Does the fear in Mobius’s voice not register, or is Loki so happy that he can’t recognize it?

“A great many things,” Loki says, both dismissive and dramatic. Mobius will be told all about his marvelous adventures and daring escapes if Loki doesn’t end up having a fatal injury he’s neglected to mention. “None of them matter now.”

“They absolutely do, Loki.” Mobius shakes the tender touch to his cheek, watching Loki’s hand idle in the arm before falling limply in a growing bloodstain. “You’re hurt.”

“Am I?” Loki’s brow furrows as he looks down at himself. He looks back to Mobius, smiling as his eyes fall on his face. “I’ve had worse.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not bleeding.” Mobius stands frozen over Loki for another long moment before forcing himself away from the other man to get to his bathroom and grab his first aid kit. 

It makes a dull sound as he drops it on the floor, followed by the sound of him sinking to his knees. The kit is almost entirely home made, mostly bandaids and the assorted compression wraps he needs after going a little too hard at the gym. He roots around enough to find gauze and trauma pads with some odd feeling of triumph. 

He reaches out to Loki’s armor, the soft leather now shiny and slick with blood. Only some of it’s Loki’s. That should be comforting, right?

“You gotta help me help you here,” Mobius feels the shake in his voice and calls it laughter. Loki is still smiling. He’s had worse. He’ll let himself panic when Loki looks worried. “How do we get this off you?”

Loki smiles at him enticingly. "Why Mobius," The God practically purrs. "If you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask." 

Before Mobius can open his mouth to say anything, a ripple of green washes over Loki, and there he sits, in all of his glory, naked as he was the day he was born.

"Come here." The God says, looping an arm around Mobius's back and pulling him onto his lap. Or, at least, that's what the God was trying to do. Mobius is able to slip out of the hold, knowing that if he plays along, Loki will distract him from his mission.

He doesn't take more than a glance to see what's wrong. A large gash, going from his right shoulder, right on the collar bone, running diagonally down his chest, stopping at the far left side of his body between his stomach and ribs. 

Mobius can't help but think back to the sharp pain he felt a week back. Pain he felt run the same path as Loki's wound. It was only there for an instant, and then it was gone. Mobius assumed that he moved funny or just imagined it, never even considering it might have been Loki getting hurt. 

The wound was clearly stitched up, but whatever Loki was doing popped one of the stitches near the top and the bottom two, leaving Loki's front a bloody mess.

"My god." Mobius gasps.

"I'm right here." Loki assures, once again trying to pull Mobius into his lap. This time, the human let's him. 

As soon as he's seated, Loki's lips are on his neck. Mobius forces himself to ignore the sensation. (He refuses to think about how much he cried when the hickey Loki had left faded away.) With shaky hands, the human tries to do what he can to help the wound.

He strains the remaining stitches as he moves, trying to draw his dear human closer to him. Blood flows out of the far ends, seeping slowly across the middle. Mobius doesn’t know how much blood Loki has on a good day, but it looks like most of it is smeared across his chest. 

He puts his hand on Loki’s less injured shoulder and pushes, not entirely sure how to feel when the God moves so easily. He tries not to be too forceful, but Loki thuds against the armrest. 

“Oh, darling…” Loki’s smile only grows, his hands finding Mobius’s waist. He’s never been this cold before. 

“You are injured,” Mobius reminds the bleeding God, keeping him pinned against the couch. “Stay still, and let me clean you up, and then we can start celebrating.”

The look of lust flickers into something else entirely as Loki’s hands tighten on his hips. There’s panic in his quiet voice, desperation. “Don’t go.”

“Never.” Mobius forces down the lump in his throat. “We’ve got everything right here, sweetheart. Not gonna leave for a second.”

Loki looks up at him, eyes wide with unconcealed worry, and then gives the slightest nod. His hands tighten as Mobius leans down to grab bandages, but he’s back in an instant, giving Loki an unsure smile. 

He can’t do stitches, but he doesn’t think the skin around the wound would even hold them at this point. Trauma pads and bandage tape are going to have to work for now. 

Mobius gently tends to the wound, using some of the gauze to wipe blood away. Loki sits silently; the only sign that he's uncomfortable is that he often tenses beneath Mobius's gentle touch. 

"What happened?" Mobius asks gently. What could hurt Loki like this? Loki doesn't answer; the only sign he heard Mobius is how his grip tightens almost unnoticeably. 

"Can't you use your magic to heal this?" Mobius looks up from Loki's chest to his face. Loki swallows heavily.

"I... If I was at my full strength, it would be all too easy. But I'm not, I not even at half strength. I used the remainder of my energy to come home." 

"Loki—" Mobius's brain struggles to find another way to explain what Loki is saying. "Are you saying you could have healed yourself, but instead, you used the rest of your strength to come back? To me?" 

"I knew I would survive. But I have missed you more than words can say." Loki's voice is so open and honest that it almost hurts. 

Mobius leans forward and kisses Loki. The God eagerly kissed him back. He leans forward, only to be gently pushed back against the sofa. 

"I love you." Mobius speaks against Loki's lips. His brain catches up to his mouth too slowly. He shouldn't have said that. It's true, but Loki's sitting here bleeding on his sofa after coming back from risking his life. How selfish can Mobius possibly be? He-

"I love you too." Loki mumbles back.

Tears prick in Mobius’s eyes in an instant, a lump forming in his throat. He pulls away, trying not to let his voice crack. “I’m sorry?”

Loki tilts his head back, looking up at Mobius with a smile that is so soft and real. This is real. How is this real? “Whatever for?”

“I-“ Mobius swallows thickly. “You-“

Loki’s smile broadens. He cradles Mobius’s face, half-dried blood flaking across his cheek. “I love you, Mobius.”

Mobius lets out a hiccuping little laugh, pressing into the touch. It wasn’t his imagination. Their timing is impeccable. “I love you too, Loki.”

Loki tries to kiss Mobius, only to be pressed back again. He should know he’s not allowed to move by now, but Mobius doesn’t snark. He drapes himself over his lover, his love, and kisses him. 

It’s barely a graze of their lips, but Mobius has butterflies. There’s something innocent about it, genuine and sweet like a first kiss. 

Mobius pulls away, tilting his head slightly before taking Loki in another, deeper kiss. They’re in love, and God, Loki has been gone for so long. 

He presses closer, only to jerk back as Loki hisses and squeezes his hips. Mobius looks down to see his palm pressing against the gash on his collarbone. Fuck. He forgot Loki was hurt. 

“Sorry,” Mobius apologizes weakly, sitting back on his heels. His shirt is bloodied now, forearms streaked with red. On the upside, the bleeding seems to have slowed.

“I’m alright,” Loki takes a breath and then flashes a grin. He tries to sit up for another kiss and gets shoved back down. 

“What about Sit Still do you not understand?” Mobius shakes his head. He can’t even follow simple commands. “Stay down, let me clean you up, and I might- Might kiss you again.”

"You're no fun." Loki pouts, and he looks so damn cute that Mobius almost kisses him again. 

"I'll be right back." He promises. Loki holds him tightly momentarily before losing his grip and letting Mobius up. 

The human quickly goes to the bathroom, grabs a washcloth, and runs it under the sink. Once he wrings all of the loose water free, he returns to Loki, who thankfully has not moved. 

As soon as he's in reach, Loki's hands are on Mobius's hips, and Loki pulls him back onto his lap.

"I'm going to clean you up, okay?" Mobius asks permission and gets a small nod. Mobius gently wipes away the blood covering Loki's chest. 

He works slowly, not willing to rush, and accidentally hurt Loki. The God lets his head fall forward, his lips resting against Mobius's forehead as he works. Slowly but surely, Loki's skin becomes visible again. 

He bandages the wound up as much as he can, ending up having to wrap gauze around his entire chest.

Only when the gauze is secured does he let Loki sit back up, watching carefully to see how it handles movement. 

He has to make a few adjustments, but eventually, Mobius is satisfied. His hand rises from Loki’s bandaged chest to the side of his neck, guiding him into a kiss. 

Loki takes to it happily, finally allowed to move closer and embrace Mobius. His hands move from his hips, reacquainting himself with his beloved’s form. Solid, human, smiling against him, Loki has longed for the moment he gets to touch him again. 

His hand moves the slightest bit below Mobius’s hips and gets snatched at the wrist. The kiss breaks, and Mobius gives his partner a look of pure amusement. “Is that all you think about?”

“I have missed you,” Loki says, not the slightest bit remorseful. He has nothing to apologize for; he is simply trying to reunite with him. This is what people do after months of separation. 

“Mhm, I’ve missed you too.” Mobius lets go of his wrist, but before Loki can touch him again, he’s up and out of his lap, offering his hand to help the wounded God stand. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed.”

"I like the sound of that." Loki takes the hand, letting Mobius pull him to his feet. The chest wound pulls slightly at the movement, but not enough to cause any actual discomfort. 

Mobius leads him to the bed and helps him lie on it. He leans in and gives Loki another firm kiss before pulling back, ignoring the whine in protest from the injured God. 

"I'll be right back. I just need to tell Ravonna I'm not coming in today." 

"Mobius, you don't have to stay." Loki knows that all he'll be doing will be sleeping, even as much as he'd love to do more with his beautiful human. 

"Of course I'm staying. You're hurt. I'm not leaving you alone." Mobius says gently but firmly, leaving no room for argument. 

Mobius wanders out to the living room, grabbing his work bag from the ground next to his front door and digging his phone from the pocket.

'Hey Vona, can't come in today. Partner hurt, and I have to take care of.' 

He types the text and sends it, pocketing his phone before wandering back into their room. Loki's more than half asleep, just barely clinging to consciousness.

Mobius slips into the bed next to him, and Loki clings to the human. The God rests his head against Mobius's chest, using him as a pillow.

The blankets, messily stacked up to fight off the cold, rise and fall with their breathing. Mobius runs a hand through his hair as Loki rests his head over his heart. Sleep overtakes him in a matter of seconds. 

He’s missed Loki. If it wasn’t clear enough already, he’s sort of taken a shine to him. During the months he was gone, Mobius spent a lot of time replaying their conversations. He’s realized they didn’t get to talk all that much, especially not away from their bed. 

Their interactions through prayer had been brief, purposefully so. Loki said that he was okay. Mobius said the same, and then they waited another week before having the exact same exchange again. 

In his more indulgent moments, Mobius imagined what they would talk about when Loki got back. The sights and all his incredible battles crossed his mind once, maybe twice, before being shoved aside for discussions of grocery lists and meaningless trivia. 

He never imagined his return being quite so worrying or with nearly as much blood, but he’s here. Mobius can’t be anything but thankful. Loki is in his arms, safe and home at last.

Mobius himself drifts off, too. Even if it's for only a few hours, it ends up being the best sleep he's had since Loki left. Not worrying about his lover, having him back, it's better than when he's pushed himself past the point of exhaustion and collapsed onto his bed.

When he wakes up, Loki is still there, which sends Mobius's heart into a tizzy. He realizes he's still in his ruined dress shirt and suit pants and considers slipping from the bed to change. Almost as if registering the thought, Loki's arms tighten around him, and the God's face presses harder against his chest. 

Mobius doesn't even know what time it is, he realizes, so he slips his phone out of his pants pocket and brings it up to his face. It lights up, and Mobius seems to have a million notifications. Really, it's 47 missed calls and 76 texts. 

The most recent notification is a text from Sylvie from twenty-eight minutes ago, calling him all sorts of names, 'whore' repeating several times in just the little preview on the screen.

Mobius pulls his eyes from those notifications to the clock on his phone, the whole reason he pulled the damn thing out. Seeing it's only a bit after ten, Mobius decides he can go back to sleep and deal with whatever Sylvie is freaking out about later. Cuddling with his Loki is more important.

He drops a kiss on Loki’s head, snuggling in with him. They can deal with everything outside their bed later.

For the first time in months, Mobius’s mind is blissfully quiet as he falls back asleep. No worries, no fears, just the warm hum of contentment as Loki sleepily nuzzles his chest. 

Mobius is up and down for a good portion of the morning. When he realizes he’s awake, he checks the time, ignoring the notifications stacking up, and then promptly returns to Loki. 

The day before he left, Mobius came home from work and he was still asleep. Loki could probably sleep for a week straight and still be tired. Mobius gets that, but as they creep into the early afternoon, he starts wondering if he should wake him up. 

He’s not expecting Loki to ‘start the day’ or anything, but eating is probably a good way to deal with blood loss. He’ll need fluids, at least. 

And maybe clothes? Mobius knows he’s a frost giant, but insulating him might make his chill a little less worrisome. They probably aren’t the same size, but boxers and sweats are elastic enough to forgive.

Mobius almost went to wake him at one point, but Loki did something cute in his sleep, and he held off. He’s just so peaceful like this.

In the end, Mobius's humanity makes him get up. Not like, the kindness of his heart or drive to help type of humanity. The 'oh shit, if I don't go to the bathroom this minute, I'm going to piss my pants' kind of humanity. 

He untangles himself from Loki's grip as gently and quickly as possible. He pauses when Loki makes a distressed sound, worried that he hurt the injured man, but he quickly settles back in. Mobius kisses his forehead before fully slipping out of his grasp. 

Rushing off to the bathroom, Mobius is very careful not to slam the door behind him. He quickly relieves himself, and when he goes to wash his hands, he catches his reflection in the mirror. 

He's got a streak of blood on his chin and his shirt is covered in dried blood. Grabbing a washcloth, he wipes his face, but there's not much to do about his shirt. He strips it off and is dismayed to see that his undershirt is the same way, which means off it goes, too.

"Mmmmobius?" He can hear Loki's voice through the door, exhaustion clinging to every word. Leaving the shirts on the ground for him to take care of later, he exist the bathroom, giving Loki a gentle smile. 

"Hi." Mobius's voice is barely louder than a whisper. Loki is still in bed, head lifted off the pillow to look for his lover, hair hanging messily in his face. 

"C'me back." Loki reaches out a hand and makes a grabby motion, much like a toddler might. Mobius obliges, sliding back under the covers next to the God. Loki thanks him by placing a kiss on the center of his chest.

“Better?” Mobius asks as Loki gets comfortable again. In return, he gets a soft hum, more of an answer than he expected. 

Loki settles into close to, if not the, exact same spot on Mobius’s chest. He sighs contentedly, draping his arm over his waist to prevent him from leaving again. 

Mobius takes a moment to gently sweep Loki’s hair away from his face. The change in his wardrobe is almost undoubtedly unnoticed; if anything, Loki only feels his body heat a little more than before, but Mobius is more aware than ever of Loki’s lack of heat. 

He has to remind himself that this is just who Loki is; there’s nothing seriously wrong with him being an ice cube. 

Loki paws at him with a pouty whine. “S’still.”

Mobius tenses under him. He didn’t realize he’d been shifting at all.

"I'm sorry, love." Mobius drops a kiss against the top of Loki's head. 

"Mobius?" Loki's eyes are closed as he speaks. 

"Yes?" 

"I love you." 

Mobius smiles. God, this man is so... Mobius doesn't even have the words to describe Loki. 

"I love you too." And he means it. His heart feels so much lighter every time he says it. He loves him. He loves Loki. 

"Mobius?"

"Yes Loki?" There's an amused smile on Mobius's face. His God is so cute when he's sleepy. Loki looks up at him, opening his eyes.

"Did you miss me?" There is no teasing lit to his voice as one would expect. He sounds serious, despite still clearly being more than half asleep. 

"Of course I did. I'm surprised you even asked." Mobius teases gently, raising his hand to play with Loki's hair. Mobius makes a mental note to offer to wash it for him; Loki would probably like that.

"I'm not used to people missing me."

He says it so casually, like it’s not absolutely heartbreaking. There’s no inflection to denote it as a bad joke or something he’s worried by. It’s a simple statement of fact. 

“I don’t- ” Mobius knows he should put his thoughts together, but he can’t seem to think of anything. Not missing him? “How is that possible?”

Loki weakly attempts a shrug, too tired and firmly bandaged to move his shoulders more than just slightly. “I’m not very ‘missable’.”

“Yes, you are.” He tries to keep his tone gentle. “I’ve missed you every day.”

Remorse moves across Loki’s face and he looks down, “I returned as soon as I could.”

“You found a way to protect us,” Mobius says softly. Two months felt like centuries, but it could have been worse. There were points in his research that Mobius thought it was impossible.

“Do you remember how I left in the mornings before?” Loki nods once. Mobius’s hand moves from his hair to his cheek. The God presses into his palm on instinct. “I went to work and thought about coming home to you all day. Because I love you, and I missed you.” 

Loki looks back up at Mobius's, desperation hidden deep within Loki's eyes. "You mean it?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Mobius runs his thumb across Loki's cheekbone, offering even the smallest bit of comfort. 

"I don't know. You feel bad for me?" Loki weakly suggests. 

"No, Loki. I love you, deeply, unexplainably." That's what it is. It's unexplainable how quickly he's fallen for Loki, and every time he says something like this, it hurts Mobius's heart and makes him fall even more. 

"I-" Loki starts to argue, but Mobius shifts his hand slightly, gently pressing a finger against his lips, cutting him off. 

"No arguments." Mobius says firmly but not unkindly. Loki doesn't say anything for a long time, and Mobius begins to think that he fell back asleep. 

"Tell me about what you did while I was gone?" Loki asks, sounding unsure of himself, almost like a child asking for a bedtime story despite thinking themselves too old for one.

“It’s not all that interesting,” Mobius warns. Loki had at least one battle. The closest Mobius got to that was his struggles with the vacuum cord. “Mostly just textbooks and paperwork.”

Loki hums softly, slowly starting to sink back down to his chest despite the hand on his cheek. He opens his eyes, just barely, to look up at him. “Tell me anyway?” 

Mobius can’t say no to him, can he? He traces the line of his cheekbone with his thumb. “I worked, and I studied, and I researched. I think I might be the most well-read nonmagical scholar in Midgard.”

Loki’s mouth turns at the corners, becoming a soft, sleepy smile. Mobius’s heart melts. 

He knows going further will either bore Loki to sleep or inaccuracies will irritate him enough to keep him up. Unwilling to take that risk, Mobius veers away from academics. 

“I, uh, got a new plant?” Two, actually. The first one didn’t make it that long. He is a neglectful plant parent, but to be fair, he was also not giving himself enough water. 

Mobius didn’t think he’d actually have to talk about what he did when Loki came home. He should’ve gotten a hobby or something.

"What kind?" Loki mumbles.

"Ummm," Mobius wracks his brain, trying to find the answer. He knew when he got it, right? It's not a fern, is it? What exactly does a fern look like? "The leafy, green kind."

Loki chuckles, turning to press another kiss to Mobius's chest. "Silly."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Mobius agrees. Silly, but not wrong.

"I like plants." Now that is a surprise. It's not that Mobius would think Loki hates plants, but more so that he wouldn't have much of an opinion on them.

"Yeah? Maybe we should get you some." 

"Asguard plants." Loki sounds excited. 

"We'll see what we can do."

“You would like them,” Loki says without an ounce of doubt. He hasn’t even met Planty the Third yet. He’s not wrong, though. 

Maybe a dash or two of his magic would keep them from dying. Mobius clearly doesn’t have a green thumb, but he’s got a green b-est pa-wait. 

Fuck, Wait.

They love each other. They sort of live together. They’re planning to have plants together. Can he say it now? Can he?

The annoying, over-analytical part of Mobius’s mind picks up, running a mile a minute to think through this. They haven’t asked each other, but it also wouldn’t be the first time they skipped a step in this relationship. There are implications in labels, though, and more than a little of Loki’s culture that he doesn’t understand. 

Loki draws a little design on his chest, probably a plant of some kind, hazy with sleep and seemingly unaware of just how precious he is like this. “Midgard plants?”

Mobius freezes between two thoughts and answers with the first thing that comes to mind. “Weed.” 

"Is a weed not a plant that is unwanted?" Loki sounds genuinely confused, and Mobius tries hard not to laugh. 

"It's one of the meanings, yes." 

"There is a flower on Asguard, it's extremely rare and it's supposedly so beautiful that it must be seen to be believed." Loki speaks with reverence in his voice. 

"This flower is said to have magical properties, only blooming for those who need guidance. The first story dates thousands of years ago, back before Asguard was in full power. 

A humble farmer lost his way deep in the woods late one night. He was certain that he would perish and all he wanted was to see his daughter one final time. Then, with no warning, a faint light in the distance, the same color of the sky during sunset. 

The farmer moved towards the flower, and the light grew brighter as he did. When he reached the plant, he gently touched one of the petals and the path home was suddenly clear in his mind. 

The man made it home safely and the next day went out to try to find the flower again, but never could. From then on, whenever someone has given up hope, a gentle light is there to lead them home once again." 

Loki tells the story smoothly, reminding Mobius that the moniker 'silver tongue' is well-earned. Mobius can almost see the picture Loki weaves with the words. 

"Wow. That's incredible.”

"It is." Loki agrees. "Some believe that the flower is really the essence of those who we love and who loved us that have gone from this realm, returning to help us when we are at our lowest."

"Have you ever seen one?" Mobius asks.

"No." Lok shakes his head slightly. "I have not."

From there, the conversation moves to another flower, whose sweet scent could send one into the most restful sleep, though some may never awaken. 

Mobius vaguely recalls a similar story from some anti drug campaign in high school. He mentions it, and then Loki’s face lights up as he starts asking questions.

Mobius would love to compare their realms’ flora, but he barely knows the difference between fruits and vegetables. 

Loki seems to be having fun, though. He tells of his encounters with fantastical parts of nature, sleep the farthest thing from him. When he asks if something exists on Midgard, Mobius can only answer that he doesn’t know, because honestly? Rainforests are weird as hell and he wouldn’t put it past them. 

Loki begins weaving one tale about hiding from rain under the cover of a mushroom the size of a horse, deep in a forest of trees with trunks as wide as three men and branches that reach out for miles, when Mobius finally notices. 

The curtains are drawn; he has never not had them drawn, but there’s always a little edge of sunlight that slips through. It had been on Loki one point, a golden streak acrosss his sleeping face, but now it’s gone. Just, gone. 

Mobius gently interrupts Loki, apologizing immediately as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

There’s a few thousand more notifications, as is to be expected, but he doesn’t bother reading the previews. He looks at the time and, fuck, it’s that late already?

"Is everything well?" Loki is still lounging across his chest. Mobius's arm is wrapped around Loki's back, and he lets his fingers gently run up and down the God's exposed skin.

"It's just later than I realized. We should probably eat something." 

"Hmm. What time is it?" Instead of just telling him Mobius lights up his phone, turning it for Loki to see. His pleased expression turns to one of thinly vailed anger.

"I suppose that would be Sylvie, whose company you seem so sure I would enjoy." 

Oh shit. What did Sylvie do this time?

'Answer your goddamn phone, you fucking man whore before I come over and...' The preview for the message ends there, thankfully. 

"Yeah, she's great, I promise." 

"Hmm. Well, perhaps I shall have a conversation with her. Discuss how she speaks to you." There's a threat very obvious in his voice. 

"I appreciate the concern, but I promise, it's okay." Mobius presses a kiss against Loki's head. "Come on, let's get up. We can eat, and I can change the sheets to ones without blood stains on them." Mobius sits up and, in doing so, forces the God up as well.

"I can take care of the sheets." Loki raises a hand to wave the blood way with magic, but Mobius stops him, grabbing his wrist. 

"Don't. You need to build your strength back up. I can take care of them."

“It is hardly enough to sap my strength,“ Loki says dismissively. Still, he relaxes in Mobius’s hold, his arm falling when he lets go. 

Mobius doesn’t point out that Loki has only ever used his hands with his magic when he was being dramatic or bleeding all over the apartment. “I’ve been meaning to change them anyway.”

Loki seems to take a second with that one, and instead of wondering if his beloved God-Prince has ever realized sheets have to be changed, he shifts away from him. 

As someone who’s been pinned by Loki’s thighs many times, Mobius knows how strong his lover is. He has gotten stronger these last few months, but not enough to buck Loki off. The God tries to tense and keep Mobius where he is, but he moves away effortlessly. 

Mobius buries his worry over Loki’s weakened state with a teasing smile as he slips away and off the bed. 

The blankets pool around Loki’s hips, all but framing his- Jesus, now is not the time. Two months without Loki hit him like a brick. Sylvie was right, he’s a whore. 

“Closet’s there if you wanna get some clothes…” Or not. Not’s okay too. Mobius gestures behind Loki, suddenly fascinated by the wood grain on the door. He motions to the door beside himself with his thumb, “I’ll be.. sheets.”

Loki notices Mobius's flustered state. Of course he does; the God is very observant, after all.

Loki, in a move far too graceful for someone who was bleeding as much as he was earlier, rises from the bed. He moves with a purpose, crossing over to where Mobius fidgets, his head still looking down. The God places his fingers beneath Mobius's chin and gently leads him to look up. 

"It seems such a shame to have you have to change the sheets just for a little blood. Perhaps we should dirty them up a bit more." Loki's cool fingers drift from Mobius's chin down to his chest as he talks. A trail of goosebumps follows in his wake. 

Mobius fights against his desire to let his eyes roam down his lover's exposed form. Loki knows what he's doing, and by God, he's good at it. The little self-satisfied smirk on his face says it all. 

Mobius's mover from Loki's face to the bed behind him. It looks rumpled and almost inviting if not for the mid-sized blood stain. 

"Less than twelve hours ago, you almost bled out on the sofa." Mobius looks at Loki again, bringing his own hand up to the God's and wrapping his hand almost protectivley around the colder one. "I think we should wait a bit before we do anything that could risk making your injury worse." 

"I'm harder to break than you think." Loki promises. 

"I know. But still, I don't want to risk it." It's very hard for Mobius right now to not say 'fuck it' and drag Loki back to bed. But the thought of his wound and the amount of blood his lover lost helps him remain firm.

Loki glances back at the bed, and Mobius thinks he sees something close to longing in his eyes. “You needn’t be so cautious.” His expression softens, just slightly. “If you wish to wait..”

“Just until you’re better,” Mobius promises. He reaches out, resting his hand on the bandages over Loki’s heart. His fingertips graze Loki’s collarbone, grazing the spot he left a bruise a lifetime ago. “As soon as you’re okay..”

Both trail off instead, not needing to say the words to be understood. They’ve been missed, terribly. 

Neither is sure who moves in first, but their lips meet. Loki’s hands fall to Mobius’s waist, bare and bandaged chests gently pressed together. 

Mobius puts a hand on Loki’s arm, gently keeping him from following as he pulls back from the kiss. Loki makes a small noise, almost too soft to hear, and Mobius’s resolve cracks just a little more. 

There are positions that wouldn’t bother Loki’s injury. They should wait, but time has passed since he said that. Loki’s probably more healed than he was a minute ago, and Mobius would be so gentle-

“Clothes,” Mobius says, the only explanation for breaking off the kiss. He lets out a small, breathy laugh and smiles weakly at Loki. Who is he becoming? “Please go get some pants.”

Loki nods and starts in the direction of the closet. He doesn’t make it even a foot before turning back and kissing Mobius again, much less tenderly.

Mobius leans into the kiss for a moment before pulling back. "Loki-" He says breathlessly, being cut off by the god kissing him again. 

"Please." Loki speaks between kisses. "There are ways." Another kiss. "That won't irritate my wound." And another.

Loki's lips move from Mobius's lips to his neck, trailing down to his collarbone and nipping and the skin there. 

"I- oh god!" Mobius pulls Loki closer, removing any space that was between them. The God knows how to push his buttons and make him fall apart beneath Loki's capable hands. 

Loki's hand trails down Mobius's bare chest, cupping Mobius hardening cock through his pants.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." Loki promises, and Mobius believes him. If he says no, pushes the god away, Loki won't force him, even though he very well could.

But Mobius doesn't want him to stop. 

"Food." Is all Mobius can manage to say. Loki pauses, clearly trying to figure out the meantime behind the words. He pulls away and looks at Mobius, confusion clear on his face.

"Pardon?" 

"We... Food. We should probably eat. It helps with healing and... Health."

“It does,” Loki agrees. He doesn’t step back, waiting for Mobius’s word. 

“I-“ Mobius takes a deep breath, trying to think about anything other than Loki’s mouth against his skin. “How long since you ate?”

Loki takes a second to think, and that’s all it takes for Mobius’s protective side to take over. He moves his hand from the back of Loki’s neck to his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Pause for now. You need food.”

“Do I?” Loki pulls back despite his argument. He can survive without a meal, but his beloved human is far more fragile. He’s expended most of his energy worrying. 

“Yes.” Mobius doesn’t give further explanation or any room for argument. Loki has eaten before. He’s going to do so again. “I’ll get something started and fix the sheets while you get dressed. Talk again after.”

"If you're sure." 

"I am." Mobius hopes he sounds firm.

"Very well." Loki does sound slightly disappointed, but like he's not going to argue. "May I use something of yours? I'm not certain I would be able to summon something... Appropriate at the moment." Loki looks at his nails, trying to act nonchalantly. Mobius doesn't comment, knowing that if he did it would encourage Loki never to ask for help from Mobius again. And that's the last thing the human wants. 

"Of course. There's some sweat pants in the third drawer in the dresser. Help yourself. I'll go start-"Mobius pulls his phone out to glance at the time once again. "Dinner." 

He pauses, giving Loki a moment to respond. When the other man stays quiet, Mobius turns away. 

"I'll give you some privacy." Mac and Cheese, Mobius decides as he goes to the kitchen, pulling out a pot to boil the water in. He can make Mac and Cheese, more times than not without burning his apartment down. 

The second Mobius is out of the room, and Loki lets his shoulders drop.

He brings a hand up to his chest, hissing softly at the flash of pain that shoots through his body at the contact. 

There are a few things that happened durring Loki search that Mobius doesn't need to know about, one of such things being that the blade that caused this wound was coated in poison. 

Had Loki truly been Asier, it would have killed him nearly instantly. It's only thanks to his magic and his.... Unfortunate heritage that he's still alive. His magic is fighting the poison, and Loki has no doubts that he will survive, but he will be in some semblance of pain until he's all better. 

Such things cannot be avoided, and Loki refuses to let a lucky attack that a being that is no more than a corpse now managed to land change anything between he and his.... His. He has missed Mobius deeply. Ached for him. And perhaps, they can have a proper reunion once Mobius is satisfied that he's eaten.

Yearning rises up in him again mere moments after Mobius stepped away from him. The hand over his chest moves to press against his heart, willing the ache to subside. 

He can return to Mobius’s side in a moment, Loki reminds himself as he crosses their room. The dresser is the simplest obstacle that has been set between them. 

Loki takes the first pair of sweats the he sees, plucking them from the drawer without so much as a second glance at the other, identical pairs. He pulls them on quickly, pointedly ignoring his unwanted arousal as he ties the drawstring in a neat bow. 

The second he steps out of their bedroom, he’s greeted with the sight of Mobius standing in a ray of golden light. 

Leaning against the counter, Mobius waits for the water to boil. He’s already gathered his ingredients, pre measured and waiting at his side.

There’s a gentle touch to his side, and his hand is on a knife before he remembers that he’s not home alone anymore. Loki sets himself on his shoulder, arm quickly winding around his waist. 

“Hey,” Mobius keeps himself from leaning back against him as he lets his hand fall casually from the knife block. 

“Hey,” Loki returns softly. He presses a light kiss to his shoulder and peers around to read the box. He loves Mobius more than any words could ever say, but in equal measure, he worries about Midgardian cuisine.

"What is... That?" Loki asks. He doesn't gesture, but Mobius knows what he's talking about. 

"It's called Mac and Cheese. It's a delicacy here on earth." Mobius teases. 

"I see." Loki takes him all too seriously. He doesn't know otherwise, after all. Mobius turns his head, kissing the God. 

"Let's turn on a movie while we eat. I promised to teach you about vampires." 

"If you wish," Loki easily agrees. When Mobius offered to teach him, they were in the middle of something, and perhaps revisiting the topic would turn the humans' attention to similar activities. 

"Great! I think you'll really like Twilight." Loki is the god of mischief, so of course, he notices the mischievous look in his lover's eyes. However, he doesn't know why.

“Twilight?” Loki can imagine what that might entail. If these vampires would come to Mobius’s mind at such a moment, surely they have some. provocative nature to them. 

“Yeah,” Mobius bites his lip, failing to hold back a grin. “It’s based on these books, y’know, like all good vampire media. I’ve read them at least a dozen times.”

Oh. Loki wraps his arms more securely around Mobius as his darling human returns to creating their meal. Mobius is a connoisseur of this.. ‘media’.

Chapter Text

Loki’s thoughts about what other things Mobius may teach him are brought to a screeching halt when Mobius starts opening the box of Mac and Cheese. 

He removes a packet with the word CHEESE printed on it in dull blue letters, dumping the rest of the box’s contents into the water. 

“Is this-?” Loki motions to the packet but does not touch, “This is what you consider cheese?”

"Absolutely." Mobius says entirely seriously.

"This... This isn't cheese." Mobius can't be serious. Loki knows what cheese is; they have cheese on Asgard. This isn't cheese. 

"If it looks like cheese, and tastes like cheese...." Mobius trails off. 

"I doesn't look like cheese." Loki argues. Mobius shrugs. He drains the water from the pot before putting milk, butter, and the 'cheese' into it. 

"Here." Mobius hands Loki a large wooden spoon. "Stir this while I change the sheets. Then we can start to movie."

Loki accepts the burden with a heavy heart, looking down at the off-color powder with nothing short of apprehension. 

Mobius stretches to kiss Loki’s cheek, slipping away from him with a Thanks, babe.

Changing the sheets only takes him a few minutes; he’s well-practiced and a capable adult. He may have sold his soul to a fitted sheet witch in college, but he doesn’t remember either way. 

He tosses the blankets back on haphazardly but does make sure to arrange the pillows again. His pillow arrangement has a specific method, the most important aspect of which is that Loki never sees the pillow Mobius held in place of him while he was gone. 

When he returns to the kitchen, having made a pitstop to change out of his work slacks, he sees Loki gazing into the Mac and Cheese like he’s just seen God. 

“You good?” Mobius asks as he slides in next to him.

“I didn’t.. I don’t know how it-“ The God seems almost worried. He looks between the pot and Mobius, concern written on his face. 

Mobius peers in. The noodles glow an almost radioactive yellow, like they used a highlighter as extra seasoning. “It looks perfect.”

Mobius grabs two bowls and forks from the cabinet and drawer, respectively. He portions out the 'food' into the bowls, putting noticeably more in one, which he then hands to Loki. 

They make their way into the living room and settle down onto the sofa, Mobius giving a disappointed frown at the blood stain in the fabric. Loki begins to feel bad for leaving such a mess, but he knows any attempt to clean the mess with magic will earn him a disappointed look.

Mobius busses himself with getting the TV set up and Loki looks down at the bowl in his hand. It looks... Interesting, to say the least. He hesitantly takes the fork, gathers some of the yellow thing on it, and brings it to his mouth. 

He puts it in his mouth, fully prepared to spit it out at the first sign of anything amis. Hesitantly, he chews it. 

It's ok.

It's not the best thing he's ever eaten, but not the worst. He enjoys it more than he's ever going to admit to anyone, Mobius included. 

"Good, right?" Mobius doesn't look from the screen, a knowing smile on his face. 

"It will suffice."

That’s a solid six out of ten. 

Mobius moves back to the couch, tucked into the corner opposite Loki with the controller in one hand and his cheese goo in the other. Maybe he should splurge someday and treat his partner with some name brand, Mac and Cheese. They might kick it up to an eight. 

Once he has the cinematic masterpiece queued up, he looks to see Loki’s reaction. Mobius feels a twinge of guilt when he realizes the God is curled around his bowl, sapping its warmth. 

He does seem confused by the menu screen, but Mobius can’t make himself flirting imply anything about the plot. A severely wounded man is shivering in the corner because Mobius is too horny to be trusted to cuddle. 

Mobius sets his things on the table, gently pulling a throw blanket off the back of the couch. He should have tried to get Loki into a hoodie or something to insulate his twunk from the harsh New York winter. 

“You cold, Lokes?” Mobius knows the answer is yes. He knows Loki will say no. 

“Perhaps.” Loki gives him a look, eyeing the blanket suspiciously. “Are you offering to warm me?” 

Right, they’re both Like This.

"Here." Mobius drapes the blanket over the god as an answer. 

"I do not need a blanket." Loki grumbles, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he does. 

"Humor me." Mobius says, settling back down into his spot. 

"Very well." Loki agrees. Mobius starts the movie. 

They eat the Mac and Cheese, setting the bowls on the table once empty. As the movie goes by, they move closer and closer to eachother. 

By the end, Mobius is lying on his back across the sofa, Loki's head on his chest and body between his legs. The blanket is draped over both of them, and Mobius's hand gently runs up and down Loki's back beneath it. 

"I must admit, that was not what I was expecting." Loki says, sounding mildly confused. 

"It's the most important piece of vampire media that exists." How far is Mobius going to take this? As far as he can.

"I see." He doesn't.

"We should probably take these bandages off." Mobius says as he trails his fingers over the wrappings, effectively changing the conversation. "Let the wound breathe."

“Wounds do need to breathe,” Loki agrees. It’s more of a mental note in the unlikely event that he ends up injured like this again. 

Aside from the occasional childhood scrape or bruise, every wound Loki’s ever had has been easily taken care of by the palace healers. He won’t admit his lack of experience, certainly not to Mobius.

“Yeah.” Mobius is half sure he would just have to change the dressing, but it can’t hurt to be optimistic. “We don’t have to, if you don’t-“

“No,” Loki lays a hand on Mobius’s chest, both stopping him and pushing himself up to sit almost in his lap. “I trust your judgment on this.”

Mobius should tell him that he doesn’t have any sort of medical certification beyond a first aid class he took in high school, but Loki’s already picking at the bandages at the bottom of his rib cage. 

“Hey, hey,” Mobius catches his hands, gently moving them to his sides. “Let me.”

When Mobius lets go, Loki relents. One hand braces against the Midgardian’s shoulder, the other staying by his side. 

They should do this in a sterile environment, or at least something closer to it than on the couch, but he’s holding out hope that they won’t need more gauze. 

He starts to undress Loki’s chest, eyes more on his face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, the God looks just as attentively back at him.

Once the last of the wrappings fall away, Mobius looks down at Loki's chest. 

On the good side, the wound has stopped bleeding. But it still looks angry. The edges of the wound are an unnatural looking blue shade, gradually turning his standard pale pink color. 

Mobius reaches out with worry, gently touching the blue skin. The second his fingers make contact, he jerks his hand away. It's ice cold. Colder than that, really.

"Shit." He shakes his hand, trying to get some of the warmth back. 

"What's wrong?" Loki sounds panicked, which is entirely fair. If someone was looking at Mobius and went 'shit,' he'd be worried. And that's before factoring in the injury. 

"I'm... Not sure." Mobius says hesitantly. "You're skin is kinda.... blue. Is that normal?" 

Loki tenses up for a second before jerking away from Mobius, all but throwing himself off the sofa. 

"Loki?" The human is worried. He moves to follow Loki. "Are you-" 

"Don't!" Loki backs away further. "I don't want to hurt you."

Mobius stays where he is, raising his hands placatingly. Is this a God thing? Does he have magic sepsis? Is Asgardian gangrene blue? Despite his confusion, he tries to take a calming tone. “No one’s going to be hurt. I just want to help.”

“You can’t help me.” Loki covers his chest with a hand, unintentionally pressing against the wound enough to make himself hiss. He shouldn’t have come here. He’s a danger to Mobius in either form. “This isn’t- There are things I haven’t told you.”

“I can try.” Mobius stands, not approaching as Loki stumbles back.“No matter what this is, I’m going to do everything I can to help you heal.”

“You don’t understand. This can’t be cured.” Loki can feel the aching cold against his false Aesir palm. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re not, Loki.” He’s so sure Loki almost believes him. His dear, sweet Mobius, so kind and so trusting, doesn’t realize what a terrible trap Loki has drawn him into. 

“I am.” Loki fumbles back before he can try to get closer again. “This is the skin of a killer, Mobius.”

Oh God. Mobius bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep from reacting. He knows what Loki means to get across.

“If you don’t want me touching you, that’s okay.” He won’t touch his blue, sparkly skin if that’s what Loki thinks is going to hurt him. “I can talk you through this if that would be more comfortable.”

The Midgardians must not know; that’s the only explanation. They haven’t been invaded, and Mobius doesn’t understand what this all means. 

Loki takes a deep breath, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. He loves Mobius. He loves him. Mobius thinks he loves him, too, but this is built on lies. He can’t draw this out any longer. He has to tell him the truth. 

“I’m a Frost Giant.”

Loki closes his eyes, not wanting to see Mobius's reaction. He doesn't need to see the man he loves face twist in disgust and fear. 

How stupid could Loki be? Did he really think he could hide this? That Mobius, sweet, gentle, caring  Mobius wouldn't find out? That he could trick forever, never tell him he's been sharing his bed with a monster? 

Loki knew it was only a matter of time before he did something to make Mobius hate him. Everyone grows to hate the trickster God after too long, and that was before the truth about him was revealed. 

"Loki," Mobius speaks carefully, too carefully. So, his Midgardian is choosing fear. "I-"

"Are terrified? Disgusted? Can't believe that I would trick you? Feel ashamed that you let a monster inside your bed? Let one touch you? Fuck you?"

"I already knew." Mobius says, cutting Loki's self-deprecating spiral off.

Loki’s eyes snap open as a new flood of horror runs through him. Mobius seems unfazed, looking worriedly between his chest and the growing anxiety on Loki’s face. 

Fear takes Loki, sharp and hollow in his chest. Did Thor tell him? Did he somehow let his disguise slip? How long has Mobius been aware of his dark nature?

“You..“ Loki makes a sound almost like a gasping laugh or a sob for help. “You knew?”

“Yes.” Mobius answers. He says it with such finality like he expects Loki to doubt him. Why wouldn’t he? Who would willingly get this close, this intimate, with such an abhorrent creature? 

“How? How long?” Loki can feel his own pathetic tears on his neck. Mobius hasn’t even flinched. 

His- The Midgardian takes a moment, constructing a story to convince Loki not to run. As if a man of such pure heart could fool the God of lies. 

“I’ve known since before we met,” Mobius says, nothing but sincerity in his voice. “I chose to stay with you, knowing who and what you are. I’m not afraid of you. I never have been.”

"Liar" Loki hisses out of reflex. He doesn't detect any hint of dishonesty in Mobius's words nor his voice, but it can't be the truth. That would mean he willing let a monster like Loki touch him. 

"I'm not lying." Mobius assures softly. 

"How? How do you know?" If he knew before  Loki told him, before they met, it had to be Thor. Perhaps in an attempt to explain why Loki attacked. 

'Oh, he's not Asgardian. He's a frost giant, a bloodthirsty monster. All of them are like that.'

"It's in the myths."

"So you knew. Before I did?" Loki can feel rage bubbling in his chest. Not at Mobius, never at Mobius, but at Odin, his so-called 'father'. The Midgardians knew, and more than likely the other realms if the least advanced one did, yet he still hid it from Loki. 

"What do you—" Mobius begins, but cuts himself off. Looking for a different angle, he asks, "How long have you known?" 

"Approximately one and a half of your earth years."Mobius can hear the cold furry in his voice, but he's not scared. He knows Loki wouldn't hurt him, even if he's angry.

"Odin didn't-"

"Tell me?" Loki cuts him off. "No. In fact, I've been taught my entire life that frost giants are the monsters children should be afraid of. That they want to destroy everything, leaving an icy hell behind with wives widowed and children orphaned. That they're monsters who should not, can not, be trusted and should be killed on sight." 

“What?” Mobius takes a shaky, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Mobius has worked on himself a lot to get better with anger management. He has a tight hold on his temper, and he prides himself on being able to resolve things with words. He hasn’t started fights with people since high school. 

He wants to break Odin’s jaw. 

“If anyone is a monster, it’s Odin.” Mobius wants to lash out. He may not be a God, but he’s angry enough to kill one. 

“He’s Aesir,” Loki says, sneering at the mere thought. It’s the only defense the man could hope to use. “He may have lied about what I am, but at least he’s not this.”

He pulls his hand from his chest, showing Mobius the blue outline around his wound. 

The sight brings Mobius down slightly. He’s injured. He can’t launch into a tirade against Odin, at least not until they make sure Loki’s not infected. 

“Even if what he said about frost giants were true, which it is Not,” Mobius grits his teeth on the point, “You are nothing like that. Bullshit propaganda or not, your race doesn’t define your personality. Your morals, and- fucking Christ, your worth isn’t dependent on the color of your skin.”

"You don't understand, Mobius.  Midgard has been sheltered from such realities of the universe."

"Bullshit." Mobius stays. "We might not have been as exposed to everything as Asgardians have, but it's a universal truth that someone's skin doesn't mean anything. We've kinda fought wars over it." 

"It's different." Loki weakly protests. 

"No. It's not." Mobius takes several deep breaths to calm himself. Loki doesn't need his rage right now. He takes a step towards the God, who takes a shaky step back. 

"Trust me?" Mobius asks gently, waiting for a small nod before slowly moving towards Loki. Once he's right in front of the God, who stares intently at the ground, he reaches out and takes Loki's hand, slipping his fingers in the spaces between the other man's.

"I love you." Mobius sounds so sure of himself that it almost makes Loki want to cry. "I love you no matter what you look like. I don't care what the color of your skin is, or if you're Asgardian or Frost Giant or a Martian. You can be whoever or whatever you want to be." 

Loki looks up, meeting Mobius's eyes. He sees conviction, the kind he's only seen in warriors going off to battle. Mobius's free hand reaches up and cups Loki's face, wiping away tears the god didn't realize were falling. 

"Say it again?" Loki quietly begs, hating himself for it. 

"I love you." Mobius repeats. Loki can't help himself; he leans down and kisses Mobius desperately, but it is a different kind of desperation from earlier. 

Earlier, it was full of lust and desire. Now, there is a need to be reassured and loved.

Mobius’s heart aches as he kisses Loki, pouring every ounce of love he has for the man into it. 

In the short time they’ve spent together, he’s fallen for him, and he’s fallen hard. Even if he pushes his romantic feelings aside, he loves him. If they were nothing more than friends, he would still love and cherish this man. He can’t fathom how other people don’t feel the same. 

Have they not seen him smile? Heard his laugh? Watched him explain his favorite flower, still soft and hazy with sleep? There is so much to love about him. Mobius feels tears on his face and doesn’t know if they’re his or Loki’s. 

His partner, his literal God, trembles against him. Mobius wipes tears off his cheek, squeezing their intertwined hands as he breathlessly pulls away from the kiss. Still close enough for their lips to graze, he whispers that he loves him. Loki whimpers.

Mobius kisses him again and then again. With each kiss, he pours all the emotions possible into them. He's not sure how, but his hands come to rest on Loki's hips, pulling him closer. 

"Can I take you to bed?" Mobius whispers against Loki's lips. He wants to worship this man, show him exactly how deserving of love he is. 

"Please." Loki sounds out of breath. Mobius once again takes Loki's hand and gently tugs him towards their room. 

The two fall onto the bed together, Loki clinging to Mobius. 

"I love you." Mobius says again. "And I'm going to prove it to you. As often as you need me to." 

~~~

Mobius kisses around the wound on Loki's chest, letting his hands trail down the God's body. He gently slides his old college sweats off his lover's hips.

Loki gasps as Mobius wraps a hand around his cock, gently working him to full hardness. The human's mouth continues its trail down the other man's body. When he comes to the hardened dick in his hand, he kisses the head before swallowing it down in one motion. Loki's back arcs off the bed, his hand coming to the back of Mobius's head, fingers tangling in his hair.

Mobius holds Loki in his throat, taking slow breaths as he waits for the hand in his hair to loosen, if that’s what Loki chooses. He intends to be slow, to take Loki apart and lay him out bare against their bed, but if he needs a quick first round, he won’t be denied. 

Mobius hums softly, looking up through his lashes. Loki is nearly panting already, breaths coming in shudders as he cards his fingers through Mobius’s hair. It’s sweet, almost like he’s petting him, maybe willing him to be gentle.

Soft noises leave Loki with each breath as he adjusts to the wet heat of Mobius’s mouth. Distantly, he recalls just how long it’s been since he’s had the chance to put his mouth on him. 

 With one long, slow motion, Mobius draws his tongue along the underside of Loki’s length. 

The reaction is instant. Loki’s hips jerk, his cock twitching on Mobius’s tongue. He makes a muffled sound, one that is followed by a barely contained whine when Mobius pulls off of him completely. 

Mobius nips Loki’s inner thigh, smiling against the sensitive skin as he trails kisses up to the place where it meets his hip. 

“I love the way you moan,” Mobius murmurs against his skin. He flicks the tip of his tongue against him, feeling the God’s muscle flex beneath his touch. “You always sound so beautiful.”

Loki lets out a small whimper as Mobius’s kisses move away from his thigh. He presses an open-mouthed kiss against the base of his cock, 

“Just like that.”

Mobius all but purrs his praise before taking Loki into his mouth again. He starts to move, but not by much. His tongue does most of the work, earning soft, breathy moans. 

The sound gets higher when Mobius finds a particularly sensitive spot. Loki pulls his hair, and then almost as suddenly as he did, he lets go, his other hand fisting in their sheets. 

Mobius moans around him despite the pill being unintentional. He made Loki lose control for a second there; how sweet. 

He slips his hand up, gliding over the smooth planes of Loki’s well-muscled form to gently pull his hand from the bed, tangling their fingers together.

Loki gratefully holds the hand back, tightly but not painfully squeezing. 

"Norns, Mobius." He moans as Mobius swirls his tongue in a particular way. The human, naturally, takes that as a good sign and repeats the motion, Loki's hand twitching in his grasp almost the exact same way his cock twitches in his mouth. 

Mobius continues slowly, using his mouth to take his God apart. Loki makes the most beautiful sounds, encouraging the other man. 

"Mobius! I'm- I'm going to-" He doesn't need to finish that sentence, Mobius knows exactly what's about to happen. He looks up at Loki once again, doubling down on his efforts. 

The God moans obscenely, hips bucking once, twice, three times before he cums. Mobius, the ever-faithful servant to his God that he is, swallows every drop of it, not wanting a single one to go to waste. 

Even after he's cum, Mobius holds Loki in his mouth for a few seconds, waiting until he feels the God go lax before pulling off of him. 

Loki's free hand reaches down and grabs the collar of the shirt the Mobius is still wearing, gently pulling at him. Mobius obediently moves up, letting Loki pull him into a kiss. 

"So beautiful." Mobius murmurs against his lips. Loki let's out a soft whine at the words, Mobius somehow making it seem like they're true. 

"Take this off." Loki softly demands, tugging at Mobius's shirt. "Please."

"Of course." Mobius agrees quickly, pulling back just enough to do so before moving close once again. Loki wraps his arms around Mobius's back, scrapping his nails gently against the newly exposed skin. 

Mobius pulls away, and Loki panics, thinking he did something wrong. He whines and tries to pull Mobius back against him. His lover shushes him lightly, squeezing his hand. 

"It's alright. Trust me." Mobius waits for a nod in confirmation. Right now, it's all about Loki and his wants and needs. Loki nods shakily once, and Mobius pulls back. 

He tries to untangle his hand from Loki's, but the God holds fast. That's fine; Mobius doesn't need both of his hands. He places one on the inside of Loki's thigh and pushes. Loki gets the hint and spreads his legs as far as he can.

"Good boy." Mobius praises. Loki opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it is gets lost in a moan as Mobius leans down and blows a quick stream of air against Loki's hole.

Mobius holds back from cooing as Loki tenses, trying not to close his legs. He massages his thigh gently, watching for any sign of discomfort as he moves lower. 

“Are you sure?” Loki asks, voice barely above a whisper. Mobius nearly moves up to kiss him again to reassure him. 

Instead, he presses a soft kiss to the space just below Loki’s hardening cock. Mobius smiles against him as the man above him lets out another quiet moan. “I’m sure, love.”

Mobius trails his hand along Loki’s thigh, the touch feather-light and almost teasing. “May I?” He asks softly, hopefully. He wants to open Loki up with his tongue, to make him come undone just like this, to feel him cum from nothing more than his mouth and soft praises. This isn’t about his desires, but he wants to express his love this way. 

Loki nods against the pillows, squeezing his hand tightly. “Please.”

Mobius’s heart squeezes in his chest. He kisses Loki again and then gently trails down. As much as he wants to start strong, he knows how sensitive his God must be. 

He takes his time, drawing out each kiss, each gentle caress of his tongue. Loki tries to be still, but he can’t help the little movements of his hips any more than he can his low, pleading moans. 

He makes a sound, somewhere between a yelp and a whine, as Mobius’s hand takes hold of his hip. Loki stops squirming, assuming that’s what his lover wants, until he feels himself pulled closer as Mobius moans into him. 

Mobius makes Loki cum twice with just his tongue before fucking him gently. He softly praises the God beneath him, encouraging every little sound he lets out. 

Their hands stay tangled together the whole time. 

They hold eachother all night.

Loki is pliable as Mobius repositions him, too boneless to fight and too satiated to want to. He tucks into Mobius’s neck, dropping a single kiss to his collarbone before falling into a blissful sleep

Mobius manages to slip away, only for a moment to grab a soft roll of gauzy tape to cover the wound. It’s enough to dampen the cold to a slight chill when he presses a kiss to the God’s chest, which is all Mobius needs. If it weren’t a genuine danger, he would have no barriers between them. 

They fall asleep in each other’s arms. Their legs tangle under the blankets, bodies wrapped around each other in a mess of limbs and soft fleece. 

Chapter Text

Mobius wakes first, to no great surprise. He kisses Loki’s shoulder, smiling as he tries to burrow into his chest. His sweet boy can have a few more minutes. 

It takes a minute to untangle from Loki, who Mobius is half convinced became part octopus during the night. There’s no rush to his escape, but the longer he lingers, the more tempting it is to curl back up with him. 

He eventually gets his arm free enough to grab his phone, sighing with relief when he sees the time. His tracker hasn’t triggered. Ravonna is a kind and benevolent god. 

Mobius doesn’t read any of her messages or other notifications that have pilled up in the twenty-odd hours since he called out. Reading is for chumps who don’t have sleepy Gods to cuddle. 

He shoots her another text, eyes half closed. ‘Hey Vona, can’t today again. Partner ok, I’m still dr.’ 

Too tired to care about much else, Mobius hits send and drops back into bed, pulling Loki back in against him.

Mobius dozes back off, only to be reawakened a few hours later by a loud banging at his front door. Loki also wakes up, muscles tense and ready to spring out of their bed. Mobius grabs his arm, knowing that if Loki wants to get up that won't stop him.

"Mobius! Open the damn door before I break it down!" Mobius is just barely able to make out a muffled voice through the walls. He lets out a sigh of relief.

"It's Sylvie." Mobius says, climbing out of the bed. He grabs the pair of sweat pants off the ground, yes, the ones Loki was wearing yesterday, and pulls them up over his hips. 

"I'll go see what she wants. You make yourself decent." He says, pressing a kiss against Loki's temple. 

"You're stealing my pants." Loki points out teasingly, a vaguely flirty smile on his face. Mobius can't help himself; he leans in to capture his lover's lips with his own. 

Right before they can touch, another banging at the door. "Mobius!"

The human in question sighs and pulls away, grumbling as he makes his way out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Trudging through his apartment, Mobius exaggerates a groan. Sylvie stops banging, taking it as an answer for the moment. 

The door swings open to reveal her in all her usual glory, not a hair out of place and murder in her eyes. “Whore.”

“Bitch.” Mobius nods, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” The murder in her eyes takes over the rest of her expression. “You haven’t picked up your phone in over a day. We thought you died.”

“I’m sorry, I was a little busy.” Just a little. “We’re both okay here. No casualties.”

“Yet.” Sylvie slips past him. It would be a shove if he were putting any effort into blocking the door like he should be, but it’s too early in the afternoon for that. 

“You’re in my apartment.” Mobius expects nothing less. She marches in deeper, and he sighs, closing the door again. 

Somehow, in a minute or less, Loki has dressed himself and made himself comfortable on the couch. 

The blanket from the night before is draped over him, a pillow from their bed tucked behind his shoulders, both perfectly placed to hide his bloodstains. If Mobius didn’t know any better, he’d say the God had been napping. 

Loki looks up, bleary-eyed, and shifts into a sitting position. He rubs at his eyes, causing the blanket to fall from his shoulders, showing the head of Athena emblazoned across his covered chest. 

Mobius’s heart flutters when he sees that this thief chose one of his university hoodies. It’s too early for him to start doing this cute shit. 

“Mobius..” 

Oh fuck. Mobius snaps back to reality as Sylvie looks up at him with nothing short of confusion on her face. The fire died far too fast. “Yeah?”

Sylvie looks back at Loki, as if trying to ensure he’s really there. His acting skills are almost disturbingly spot-on, but his magic is low. Mobius feels panic jolt through him. Does she recognize him? 

“Are you… gay?”

"Nope!" Mobius says cheerfully. Sylvie glances back and forth between them several times, confusion on her face. Mobius takes pity on her, a dopey smile crossing his face. "I'm bi, Sylvie." 

"Asshole." She hits him in the shoulder. He laughs. From the corner of his eye, Mobius sees Loki tense even further when Sylvie hits him. Overprotective God. 

"So, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend or what?" Sylvie says eyebrow raised in a delicate arch. 

"I am L-" Loki begins before Mobius cuts him off. 

"Lucas. This is my- my partner Lucas." Mobius could hit himself. Lucas? Really? That's the best he could come up with. He can tell from the expression on Loki's face that he disapproves. Thankfully, Sylvie seems to take that as frustration for Mobius cutting him off. 

"Geeze, Mob, let the guy talk." She teases as she crosses over to Loki. She plops herself down on the coffee table directly across from the bundled-up God. 

"Here." She pulls out a thermos from her purse and holds it out. "I made you chicken noodle soup, just like my mom used to make me when I was a kid." 

"I am not a child." Loki snaps, glaring. Sylvie frowns, clearly not having expected that reaction. 

"He means thank you." Mobius stands behind Loki, placing his hands on either of the God's shoulders. His lover leans back into the touch. "He's just a bit grumpy after what happened."

"What did happen?" Sylvie perks up, curiosity in her eyes. 

"Hate crime," Mobius says softly. Sadness enters her eyes, and he feels bad about it. It's not like he could say Loki was hit by a bus; he would be in the hospital, not Mobius's apartment. And saying he was mugged—well, he's already used that excuse recently. 

"I'm sorry." She says to Loki. Mobius can tell this is one of the rare serious moments with her. The fact that someone she doesn't know getting hurt hurts her so much shows that she's a kind person, despite how much of an ass she tries to be. 

"You are the one who calls Mobius a 'whore', are you not?" Loki questions. Mobius wants to groan. Here they go again.

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Let me tell you this now. If you continue to do so, continue to make such reproachable statements about his honor, I shall make sure it is the last thing you ever do." It's a wonder that Loki's eyes aren't glowing green, considering how on the edge of murder he sounds. Mobius tightens his hands on Loki's shoulders. 

"Go fuck yourself." Sylvie says, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air. Loki goes to move, but he's still weaker than usual, so Mobius can hold him back. 

"That means she likes you, " he quietly tells his lover. God, he doesn't want to have more blood to clean from his apartment.

Loki tries to fight against Mobius, but his hold only tightens. 

“He’s.. overprotective.” Mobius says, half an apology, half a warning. God knows Sylvie would try to poke at him just to see what he’d do. 

“A little.” Loki glares daggers as Sylvie huffs out a small laugh. She and Mobius make eye contact, and something small in her expression shifts. “He doesn’t..?”

The ‘know?’ is unspoken, and for some reason, it causes a wave of guilt to wash over Mobius. He’s keeping a secret, one that is clearly causing Loki distress. He’s talking in code. This isn’t a healthy way to maintain a relationship. 

“Mean it?” Mobius shakes his head grimly despite how cheerful his tone is. “No, no, he absolutely does.”

“I do not take such slights lightly.” Loki gives Sylvie a look that is chilling even from the narrow-angle from which Mobius sees him. Mobius looks away, trying not to seem any more fazed than Sylvie, who’s taking being threatened by a God like a total champ. 

“H-Hey!” Mobius pats his good shoulder warmly. Maybe he should have waited to introduce them. “No murder in the apartment.”

“Fucking coward.” 

Before Loki can even attempt to summon a broadsword or whatever he’s planning to do if he breaks free, Mobius scoffs. 

“I’m not dragging your ass down four flights of stairs when we can just drop you in the Pine Barrens for the Jersey Devil.”

That seems to stop Loki's murderous anger in its tracks. He tilts his head to the side, and it's fucking adorable. Mobius can't help himself; he leans down and presses a kiss against the God's cheek. Sylvie makes a gaging motion, which Loki thankfully doesn't see. 

"The Jersey Devil?" Loki questions. 

"Yeah, You know, the kangaroo thing with wings?" Sylvie says, trying to jog the injured man's memory.

"I- I am unfamiliar with such a creature." Loki admits hesitantly. Sylvie gasps dramatically, bringing her hand up to her chest in 'shock'.

"Sacrilegious." After a moment, she breaks into a mischievous smile. "Geeze, Mobius, where did you find this one? Under a rock?" 

"He's not from around here." Mobius agrees, running a thumb gently up and down the back of Loki's neck. "It's an urban legend. A creature unlike anything seen on earth." Mobius explains. "Usually, it only goes after livestock, but I think we could convince it to go after Sylvie." 

Sylvie flicks him off, and Mobius chuckles. "Well, I should probably get back to work. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And spy on my partner so you can report back to everyone about what you find?" Mobius jokingly accuses. 

"That might have been part of it." Sylvie agrees, a shameless smile on her face. "Before I go, I'm gonna use your bathroom." She tells him, getting up and going to her destination, not even waiting for Mobius to give her the okay. 

"I do not like her." Loki says as soon as the bathroom door closes. Mobius hums. 

"Yeah, she'll grow on you. Like mold." He idly plays with the ends of Loki's hair. "How much magic did you use to get dressed and out here so quickly?" 

Loki sighs. "More than I would like to admit. Such a small use should not leave me as drained as I feel." Loki sounds discouraged.

"Hey." Mobius lightly scolds, pressing a kiss against the top of Loki's head. "You're still healing. It's going to take some time. Don't push yourself." Loki frowns but doesn't argue. 

They hear the toilet flush and fall silent, not wanting to risk Sylvie hearing anything she shouldn't.

"All right, I'm heading out." Sylvie pulls Mobius into a hug. "Make sure you clean up the murder scene in your bathroom." She teases, and Mobius suddenly remembers the blood-stained shirts he left in there. The brief hug ends, and she turns to Loki. "Lucas, it was great meeting you, although I wish you didn't have to be hurt for it to have happened. Feel better soon." 

Loki nods at her, but doesn't say anything. Sylvie slips out of the apartment, quietly closing the door behind her. The second she's gone, Loki's shoulders drop.

“You sure you don’t want some soup?” 

Despite his evident exhaustion, Loki manages to glare. Mobius probably shouldn’t find him so cute like this. “…It cannot hurt.”

Mobius presses a soft kiss to Loki’s temple, going around to take the thermos Sylvie left on the table. He can feel the warmth through the metal and knows instantly that this soup is going to be fucking incredible. 

Loki watches Mobius unscrew the cap and can’t help the soft sigh at the warm scent that floods his superior senses. He had nearly forgotten about the oldest of healing magics, a well-prepared stew. 

He accepts the thermos, his eyes falling shut as he allows the vessel to warm him. All thoughts drift away as he absorbs the broth's goodwill. 

Loki raises the thermos to his lips, drinking deeply. Warmth spreads across his chest, easing aches deep within his bones. 

“Good?” 

Loki’s eyes open slowly as he rests the thermos in his lap. Mobius looks at him expectantly, hope not the slightest bit veiled. “Send my thanks to Sylvie’s mother.”

Mobius laughs. Has Loki been worn down so completely that he hasn’t seen, or has his love just now started to glow?  He’s lost in thought, almost dizzied by the brightness of his Mobius’s smile; he doesn’t realize he’s being moved. Loki feels a gentle hand on his knee, and his legs, sprawled across Mobius’s lap, finally settle into his mind. 

“Hey,” Mobius looks up at him, the sunlight illuminating the blue in his eyes as he plays idly with the strings of Loki’s borrowed hoodie. 

“Hello,” Loki returns, leaning in toward him. He’s well and truly enchanted by this man. 

“We..” Mobius cuts himself off with a smile. “We need to come up with a cover story for you.”

Oh. Oh. Loki feels the gears clicking in his head finally settle on disgust. 

“Lucas?” His Soup Euphoria dissipates in an instant. “You chose the name Lucas.”

Mobius’s smile only grows, though he tries to hide it. “You’d already started introducing yourself! It wasn’t like I could slide in and call you Tom or something.”

“Could I not be Loki?” The God is petulant, voice dripping with offense. 

“Thor would find out.” Mobius reminds him. 

That is a valid point; Loki would concede it if he hadn’t been given the worst name possible. “You couldn’t think of any other name? Not Lage? Lars? Leifr?”

“I’ve never heard any of those names in my life.”

The conversation doesn’t move much further. Mobius only brought up the concept so they could avoid snap decisions like that again. Still, Loki refuses to move past the indignity of being named Lucas. 

The bickering winds down at a certain point, and Mobius can tell that Loki’s starting to drift. He secures the cap back on the thermos, unnoticed by the other man, and gently slips out from beneath him. 

“Where are you going?” Loki asks, voice clouded with sleep. Mobius is in love. 

“I’m gonna clean up, hon.” Mobius tucks Loki’s hair behind his ear, stroking his cheek with his thumb as he leans into the touch. “Want me to put something on to keep you company? I’ve got New Moon.”

Loki’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “It’s the sequel to Twilight.”

“There’s two?”

“There’s five,” Mobius says gently. Loki reacts as he should to such amazing news, with abject fear.

Loki’s hand covers Mobius’s against his cheek, gently bringing him over to kiss his inner wrist. “I’ll be alright without them.”

Mobius lingers for a few seconds before moving away, letting his partner get some much-needed rest. 

Sylvie wasn’t exaggerating. The bathroom is covered in blood. 

Mobius takes a moment to steady himself, taking some deep breaths and thinking back to the fully alive and not even slightly dead man lying on his couch. It’s a lot of blood, but it’s okay. He’s better now. 

His shirts and ruined towels get tossed in the trash. Even if Loki was at full power, they’d be beyond saving.

There’s a bottle of some sort of cleaner in his cabinet that should probably fix this, right? It’s not like it can make more blood appear. 

Mobius knocks on the cabinet door the second the thought crosses his mind. His partner is magic. Anything can happen. 

Half of him wants to text Sylvie an apology for the state of this place, but he made a solemn vow to never apologize to her, ever. She called him a whore, that can't be forgiven. 

Mobius freezes mid-scrub, looking up at himself in the mirror. He’s a whore. 

He’s far from ashamed of his sexual history, but that doesn’t stop the shame that rises in him. Loki has defended him from the moment he mentioned being called a whore. He’s become visibly angry at the accusation more than once. 

How will he react when Mobius tells him it’s true? 

They love each other. Loki loves him. Logic says that this won’t change that. In all likelihood, Loki will still be just as bitter towards Sylvie and as sweet with him, but there’s still a chance. 

Loki is a God. A genuine mythological figure, a divine being, a celestial entity- a fucking God. Not to mention, he’s a prince and one of the most beautiful people Mobius has ever seen. He could have anyone in any of the realms. Why would he waste his time playing house with some run-through mortal?

Mobius shakes his head as if removing the thoughts from where they have burrowed into his brain would be beneficial. He forces all of his attention back on the blood, doubling down on the scrubbing. He needs to get this cleaned; that's all he should focus on at the moment. 

He continues scrubbing even after the tiles and sink are clean. The bathroom reeks of disinfectant, but he can't stop. If he stops, he'll start thinking about Loki leaving him, and that's not a thought he wants to have.

Mobius loses track of how much time he spends in the bathroom, but it must have been a while because Loki comes looking for him.

"Mobius?" He says softly. The human's attention snaps up from the tile beneath his hands to Loki. 

"Hey." He places the rag he was using on the ground and stands up, hands automatically resting on God's hips. You should be resting." 

"I did. You've been in here for a long time." Loki frowns, looking intently at Mobius's face, searching for something. 

"Sorry, babe, I must have been lost in thought." Mobius smiles weakly, trying to play it off. 

Loki doesn't buy it.

"What were you thinking about?" 

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Loki reaches his hand out and very gently brushes his thumb across the space between Mobius's eyebrows.

"Whatever it is clearly distresses you. I would like to help ease your mind."

Mobius leans into his touch, unwilling to deny himself. In the back of his mind, he’s trying to remember that Loki is so worried because he loves him. There’s no suspicion or accusation here.

“Thank you, but it’s fine,” Mobius assures him. He’s overthinking. The stress of Loki’s injury is messing with his head. They’re going to be fine. “You’re dealing with enough already.”

“As are you,” Loki tilts his head slightly, concern only deepening. 

“I.. It’s, uh..” The last few shreds of Mobius’s self-restraint snap at the look on his partner’s face. “We should probably sit.”

Loki takes a step back, and Mobius swallows heavily, following him to the edge of the mattress. He should be used to people taking him to bed. 

He can feel Loki’s eyes on him as he fidgets with the edge of the sheet, trying to find a way to put this to words. Asking him not to leave is guilt trippy and the facts have to come out eventually, but rejection is terrifying. 

Loki reaches out, placing a hand on the bed between them. He’s so careful not to overstep, not to make Mobius uncomfortable. He doesn’t deserve him. “Whatever this is-“

“I’m a whore.”

Mobius regrets saying it immediately. Loki’s expression shifts rapidly, from worry to rage to gentle concern. 

God, why does he have to be so caring? Mobius feels his stomach twist as he looks back into the bathroom, down at the glittering tile. 

“I went to grad school in Reykjavík. I had no friends there and was so busy with school that I could hardly work. Textbooks aren’t exactly cheap.” Mobius feels a wistful smile on his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I signed up for an escort service.”

“Everything was above board. I mostly just posed as clients’ cool, foreign boyfriend for parties. I got a half-decent meal, a fistful of króna, and then never saw them again.”

It sounds worse like this. He had fun, he never felt used, but he’s not sharing the funny stories. 

“Sometimes, if it was a good night or the person buying my time was attractive, I’d let them fuck me.” 

“Legally, I was just a slut. They didn’t pay for sex, I hadn’t been advertising, but if they gave me a good review or a nice tip, I wouldn’t not…”

Mobius’s voice trails, a lump forming in his throat. Is this why Sylvie thought he was straight even though he’s talked about being with men? Did she think he was just fucking men for money?

She wouldn’t be wrong, but still. 

There’s no sound from Loki, which makes this worse. It doesn’t matter, not in the long run. Mobius’s self-worth isn’t dependent on Loki’s approval. Or, it shouldn’t be. 

“I’m sorry,” Mobius says, barely able to hear himself. “I’m not ashamed, not normally, at least. But, you were so ready to fight anyone who ‘impugned my virtue’, I didn’t know how to tell you I don’t have any.”

"Mobius." Loki says quietly. "I don't care how many people you've been with." 

"You don't?" Mobius is a bit shocked. While, on the one hand, he wasn't expecting Loki to be so utterly disgusted by the thought of Mobius not having been a virgin the first time they met, he did expect a bit more of a reaction. 

"I don't." Loki confirms.

"Not even slightly?" He doesn't want Loki to harbor any negative feelings towards him. If there's anything he wants to say, he'd rather the God do it now rather than have it come out later during a fight where it could be seen as a cruel attempt at hurting him. 

"Darling," Loki cups the side of his face, and Mobius tilts his face into the touch. "I do not care if you've slept with everyone on this planet, or if I was your first. As long as no one forced you into anything..." Loki trails off, clearly waiting for Mobius to confirm that wasn't the case. 

"They didn't." Loki nods. 

"Then I don't care. It most certainly doesn't affect the way I feel about you. Do you know why?" 

Mobius shakes his head. 

"Because I am the one you are with now." How did this man become so sweet? Mobius can't help himself; he pulls Loki into a kiss. 

The God happily kisses him back. Mobius feels lighter, somehow, now that this is out in the open. 

"If you don't care, then why are you so upset when Sylvie calls me a whore?" It doesn't quite make sense to Mobius. 

"Because I-" Loki starts. He pauses, clearly trying to select his words carefully. "On Asguard, I was always the odd one, the one who didn't fit in. I was always Thor's little brother, who must be put up with. But I heard what they would say about me, often time to my face. Even my so-called friends would be cruel. It was all said and done in ways that went right over my adopted brother's head, and I never said anything. I refuse to stand by and watch you suffer through the same treatment as I did."

Mobius’s blood runs cold. How dare they? All Loki wanted was friends. What kind of self-assured asshole-

He takes Loki’s hand, counting to ten, trying to calm his bloodlust. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. The people who bullied you had no right to treat you like that.”

“They did not.” Loki squeezes his hand lightly, taking a slow breath to steady himself. “But that is in the past.”

“Loki, they- th-” He has to pause momentarily and rearrange his thoughts. Mobius has a master's in psychology and was openly bi in high school. He knows damn well that it doesn’t work like that. “If you ever need to talk, or arrange a murder, I’m here for you.”

A soft smile takes over Loki’s face, genuine and so sweet Mobius’s teeth ache. “I appreciate the sentiment, but violence isn’t necessary.”

“For now,” Mobius concedes. He runs his thumb over the back of Loki’s hand, lazily drawing some half-remembered symbol. “If anyone ever pulls that again, though, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll sort things out, one way or another.”

It must be the smile on Mobius’s face that makes Loki think he’s joking. Neither of them truly acknowledges the sincerity behind his words, the righteous anger simmering just below the surface. 

“I wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” Loki says, as if he isn’t sporting a chest wound received while fighting to come home to him. Hypocrite. 

“I can hold my own.” Mobius knows his hands are scarred from bare knuckle fist fights and poorly made boxing gloves. He has more scars than his warrior prince, from far less honorable battles. “Nobody hurts my boy.”

"I like that." Loki says softly, running his thumb over the back of Mobius's hand. 

"What? The thought of me kicking someone's ass for you?" Mobius teases, bumping his shoulder against his lover. 

"Calling me yours." Oh fuck. How is it possible for this man to be this sweet? 

"You are. You are mine." Mobius brings their joined hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss against Loki's hand. The God slips his hand free and cups the side of Mobius's face.

"I am." He confirms, adoration clear in his voice. "And you are mine." 

Mobius's heart flutters. The fact that this man, this God, thinks him worthy enough to claim as his, almost makes him cry. Instead, he leans forward and kisses Loki.

Loki smiles against his lips, kissing him back sweetly. Mobius drifts into his space, closing the small distance between them. 

His heart is full. Loki’s free hand falls to his waist, holding him close as the kiss becomes another, and another. 

Mobius knows he’s a sap. He knows he’s more than a little stupid when it comes to love. Any sort of sentiment makes his heart soar, and all logical thought goes out the window. 

He murmurs Yours into a kiss, almost overwhelmed with the thought. Mobius is his. He’s Loki’s. Loki loves him. His. He’s his, his, His .

Loki pulls Mobius into his lap, kissing him soundly 

“Mine.”

Chapter Text

They belong to eachother, and they both revel in it. 

Time goes by. Loki heals, and Mobius returns to work. He’s greeted by much teasing and no more PTO. Sylvie annoys her way into meeting 'Lucas' more times and, despite Loki's facade of annoyance, Mobius can tell that he's grown fond of her. 

Months go by, and Loki opens up even more. He gushes to Mobius about his kids, seeming to be the most proud father in the world.

He gets outraged to hear that his twins, Narfi and Vali, are only ever mentioned in death, nonetheless as a punishment for Loki. In reality, his sons are alive and well and have more to offer the universe than their deaths. 

After a particularly bad night, Loki tells Mobius the truth about the Battle of New York, about how he was not the one in control of anything, even himself. His tone is dark as he speaks of the horrors he survived before his mind snapped and was taken over by the man who will forever haunt his nightmares. 

Thanos. 

Mobius holds Loki close as he relives the past, promising he'll make sure Thanos never hurts him again. Loki accepts the promise, neither one willing to face the fact that there is nothing Mobius can do in the face of such a man.

Before either of them realizes it, it's been a year since Loki kidnapped him. They celebrate by visiting several countries and trying the local delicacies wherever they are. Loki teleports them to each destination, his strength still not fully back but getting stronger each day. 

Mobius helps him set up an Instagram account, which explodes overnight. In the span of eight hours, Loki has over a million followers, and the number only goes up from there. He seems smugly satisfied when he officially has more followers than Thor. 

The two talk about sharing their relationship with the world, but there seem to be so many reasons not to. It could put Mobius's job at risk, it could put Mobius's safety at risk. Many, many people would still gladly hurt Loki for New York if given the chance. He doesn't want to put Mobius in the path of those people.

They are hidden from any magical tracing, which easily shields them from anything Midgardian governments may use to find them, but he’s still careful. There’s no such thing as being overly cautious.

The images he posts are of the utmost quality, enhanced with a dash of magic to make them more lifelike and off-putting to anyone who may attempt to track him. 

Mobius did show him how to remove geotags and use a VPN, but magic is easier for him and harder on S.H.I.E.L.D.

None of his posts are of obvious locations until he’s long gone from a city. He doesn’t include taunts or secret clues in his captions. Social media is a game, yes, but not with Fury. Loki’s playing against Mobius’s coworkers; right now, he’s trying to get more followers than Sylvie. 

His caution with what content he posts keeps him undetected for nearly a month. 

Mobius came home to Loki waiting on the couch for him, as he always is. Before he can be given his customary welcome home kiss and tie removal, he tells Loki about the meeting they had that morning with actual S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Not long after, Loki got a direct message from a suspiciously empty account asking where he was. He, of course, did the only thing that he could in that situation. 

He posted a screenshot with the caption ‘Fan Behavior’ and tagged the official S.H.I.E.L.D. account.

Outside of his mischief- and chaos-stoking habits, Loki uses his newfound Internet access for important matters. 

It’s a slow process; gathering names and contact information takes the most time, but working up the nerve to reach out stalls him for an extra few days. 

There’s danger in it; there’s danger in everything, but he has to do this. Loki’s actions were not his own, but the families of those who died at his hands deserve some sort of closure.

Most of them don't message him back, understandably thinking he's not really, well, him. Others react negatively, as to be expected. Loki has never been cursed, threatened, or wished ill of so much in his life, but this, too, was expected. 

But then there are the rare few who listen to Loki, accept his apologies, and even offer forgiveness. This is something Loki never expected. They share stories of their lost loved ones with him, not as an attempt to guilt-trip him but to remember. 

Loki feels remorse for every life that was lost, but it's the children that he mourns the most. He can't even imagine losing one of his children the way these people have lost theirs. One of the families gives him a small picture of their daughter, a three-year-old who lost her life during Loki's attack. 

Mobius finds him staring at the photo later that night, tears streaming silently down his face.

Despite everything, Loki feels lighter having talked to these people. 

A photo of Loki meeting one of the families gets shared on Twitter, and it's trending in just a few hours. Thankfully, their faces are obscured. Loki would hate if his apology brought them more pain by way of the media.

The media swarms in a way that Loki should be used to by now. 

He’s been flooded by news publications and journalists time and again; his social media stays on the front page of some select publications. While he doesn’t exactly seek out the press, it is enjoyable, on occasion, to watch them try to make sense of what he does. 

After the image of him and that family spreads, Loki reaches back out to them. If anyone recognized them, it seems they didn’t pass that information along to anyone. They’re able to move past the meeting without interference. 

That doesn’t quiet the demands of people on Loki’s end. Rumors abound, and the longer he remains silent, the more incessant they become. It doesn’t bother him, so long as they don’t harass the people he has met with. 

Mobius does have to assure him that most people don’t buy into the more outlandish stories. People aren’t going to believe that the picture of him and a handful of regular New Yorkers is the beginning stages of a second attack.

Mobius has to reassure him again not long after because Sylvie offhandedly mentioned a Very Convincing article while hanging out with ‘Lucas.’ Some woman in Des Moines has been shouting to every gossip rag in the nation that Loki fathered her child. How had he not heard? It’s all the interns can talk about.

The media's focus on Loki ebbs and flows like anything else, meaning they get some moments of calm. 

People seem to think that being in a relationship for a while means the passion dies, yet Loki and Mobius are nearing the two-year mark, and there's no sign of that happening. 

"Darling," Loki says one night as Mobius moves around the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them. "Our anniversary is in a few weeks." 

"It is isn't it?" Mobius looks over his shoulder and a gentlest smile graces his lips. Norns, Loki has to control himself from teleporting across the room and sweeping this man into a kiss. 

"Indeed." The God agrees. "I think you should request the week off." 

"Why? Are we going somewhere?" Mobius turns and leans against the counter hands braced against it. 

"No. In fact, I don't think either of us should leave our bed, let alone our home." Loki suggests casually, as if he's not telling Mobius that he wants to fuck his brains out for a week, just like when they first met.

“You do?” Mobius raises an eyebrow. He’s biting the inside of his lip to keep back an eager grin. 

“Yes,” Loki doesn’t bat an eye, looking up at Mobius with the same loving expression he’s worn since the moment he came home. “If your schedule would allow it, of course.”

“That hasn’t been a problem before.” Mobius hesitates to suggest being kidnapped again, no matter how nice it sounds. Having to pause to tell his coworkers he’s alive might take him out of it. 

“If it comes to that, I’m sure we could come up with a solution.” Loki’s voice doesn’t have any hint of flirtation. For a moment, Mobius almost thinks he means finding a genuine way around it. Then he remembers that Loki doesn’t know what a stapler is. 

“Would you be amenable?” Loki tilts his head slightly, the way he knows Mobius likes. 

“Hm, I don’t know.” Mobius shrugs, looking over his shoulder at the saucepan on the stove. He turns away from Loki, returning to their meal. “You might have to convince me.”

The words are barley out of his mouth before Loki's behind him, pushed flush against his back. He leans down so his mouth is right next to Mobius's ear. 

"I think I can handle that." He says seductively before pressing a kiss against Mobius's neck. The human gasps lightly, the feeling of electricity running down his spine. He barely manages not to lean back heavily against Loki.

It's a good thing he doesn't because as quickly as Loki appeared behind him, he's gone again. Mobius turns around quickly and sees Loki sitting in the chair, looking like he didn't move. 

"You're going to make me burn dinner." Mobius weakly scolds. 

"Oh, well, we wouldn't want that." Loki says, sounding deeply concerned at the thought. He's clearly not, if the way Mobius feels  a hand brush against the back of his neck is any indication. 

Mobius hates this and the cheating, smug asshole sitting across the room from him. Loki knows exactly what a casual show of his magic, or his strength, or, God forbid, both does to him.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and returns to their food. Not for the first time, Mobius regrets being so open about what turns him on. 

“We wouldn’t,” He finally says after a too long moment. Loki hums in response, and Mobius can feel the God’s eyes following his every move. “We don’t exactly have a lot of other options.”

Somehow, the thought of grocery shopping doesn’t seem to distract the man who has nothing better to do than tease his boyfriend. 

“I’m sure we could think of something.” Loki murmurs behind him. Mobius feels the phantom hand graze the side of his neck, trailing towards his collar bone, the touch light enough to almost seem imagined. 

His shoulders tense even though Loki isn’t there, and he just knows he’s smirking. Prick. 

“Yeah?” Mobius hopes, in vain, that tacking on a half smile in Loki’s direction will make his sigh more like a laugh. Even burnt, this has more nutritional value than what Loki’s offering. “What’re you thinking of?”

"Well I was thinking that you look absolutely ravishing. I'm sure you could sate my hunger." Loki's voice promises so many things. Images flash in his head, ones he just knows Loki's projecting. 

Mobius bent over the table, Mobius tied to the bed, Mobius being held flush against Loki, hand encircling his neck, making him watch himself in a mirror as Loki fucks him.

The human gasps as the visions stop, having to reach out and grab the counter to stop himself from falling over.

"Oh God." He whimpers. Loki's magic hand moves downward, circling around Mobius's hardening cock though his pants.

"I'm right here." The smug bastard tells him, still lounging in his chair as if he's not magically teasing his lover.

"What about dinner?" Mobius weakly questions, trying not to buck into the phantom touch.

"What about it?"

Mobius can’t help whining. He uselessly clings to the counter, the edge biting into his palm in a way that does absolutely nothing to help.

“Some of us need to eat.” It’s more of a question than a statement. With his focus split between remaining upright, trying to keep his composure, and not setting the apartment on fire, he’s half forgotten why he’s cooking in the first place.

“I could feed you.” Loki offers, low and enticing. Mobius swallows heavily as a second magical touch gently traces his bottom lip. The images return so real that Mobius can almost feel them. 

A split second of their fourth night together, Mobius taking bites of food from Loki’s hand. Then, fingers, lightly pressed against lips and eagerly accepted. Mobius on his knees, looking up with nothing but adoration and want in his eyes, mouth falling open-

“Fuck.” Mobius’s head falls forward, his whole body shuddering as he tries to steady himself. 

“If that’s what you wish.”

Mobius takes deep, shuttering breathes, trying to calm himself. He's fighting a losing battle as Loki continues to tease him, fingers that aren't really there scrapping against his collarbone. He tilts his head to the side, allowing the magic touch even more access. 

Mobius knows that he's not going to win. He never wins against Loki, not while he's playing dirty like this. His boyfriend is a cheating bastard, and he loves him for it. 

With a shaky hand, he reaches out and turns the stove off, finally giving in. The second he is, Loki is once again flush against him. This time, Mobius doesn't fight against his urge and leans heavily against the God. 

Loki's hands come up and caress Mobius, fingers dancing across his lover's chest, hips, and neck, joining the projections of magic touches. 

Mobius's brain short circuits from all of the touching. A gaspy moan escapes his mouth. Loki dips his head down and begins sucking and nibbling at his neck. 

"I knew you'd see it my way." He mumbles against the humans skin. 

"You're such a bastard."

Loki nips his neck a little sharper than before, earning a high pitched sound from him. “You don’t seem to mind.”

Loki continues to tease Mobius, physical and illusory fingers sweeping across his collar bones, skimming against his nipples, delicately tracing the bruises on his hips. He thinks one of the hands is trying to slip under his shirt, but he can’t focus as he arches into the touch

Mobius wants to come back with some witty response, probably a weak Fuck you, that makes Loki only up the ante, but before he can try to speak, Loki presses the heel of his hand against his cock. 

The sound that he makes is low and desperate. The one that follows after Loki bites his neck in approval is even worse. 

Mobius doesn’t realize he’s moving his hips until Loki all but purrs against his neck. He takes it in stride, wrapping a hand around Loki’s wrist to keep him there as he rolls into his touch. 

The God presses himself fully against Mobius, letting his dear human feel his cock, hard and ready for him. Mobius’s head falls back against his shoulder as he moans and tries to grind back against him.

"Look at you." Loki breathes, breath cool against Mobius's hot skin."You look so pretty like this." He, using his magic, sends a shot of pleasure through Mobius's dick. 

 A choked breath breaks free from Mobius, senses overloaded from that that he can't make a sound. 

The God presses down harder, but not painfully. He loves taking Mobius apart like this. A little magic and the simplest touch can make his lover so desperate for more. 

"God. Loki." Mobius manages to moan.

"Yes, darling?" Mobius can hear the smirk in Loki's voice. The bastard. 

"D- do that again." Mobius isn't begging, but it's a close thing. 

"You mean this?" Loki sends another spark of pleasure through his human. Mobius presses against Loki's hand as much as he can, chasing the pleasure. 

Loki sends another burst of pleasure, then another. Mobius twists so prettily when he does that Loki can't help himself. He feels the tension building in his lover's body, and, with one final burst, sends him over the edge. 

Mobius cums hard, coating the inside of his under with it. He goes boneless, relying on Loki to keep him from falling to the ground in an ungraceful heap. He turns his head to the side, seeking out his lovers lips. 

Loki gives him what he wants, a deep, languid kiss. 

"Absolutely breathtaking." He murmurs against his lover's lips, easily holding him up.

Mobius whimpers softly, tilting to kiss him again. Loki returns to him, deep and unhurried as he melts back against his chest. 

The phantom hands dissipate, the warm haze of magic fades down to the quiet hum that follows Loki. 

Mobius's knees feel weak even as he comes down, and the world stops spinning. He feels a dull pulse low in his hips, his muscles still working through the aftershocks. It’s intense on both him and his body. Mobius has learned that Loki doesn’t do things in half measures. 

He shifts, breaking from Loki’s lips to lightly kiss his jaw, then just below. Mobius rests his head in the crook between Loki’s neck and shoulder, planning to lean on his beloved partner for support as he tries to calm himself down. 

Then his hip grazes Loki’s cock through his pants. He tenses for an instant, and Mobius remembers just how much he enjoys revenge. 

“Thank you,” Mobius whispers breathlessly. He kisses Loki’s throat, near one of the half-healed marks he left this morning. “My God.”

"Mmmm." Loki hums happily. "You are certainly very welcome, my human." 

"Let me make it up to you." Mobius turns in Loki's arms so they're facing eachother, noses almost touching. 

"Oh?" The God asks, raising an eyebrow. "And how do you propose to do that?" 

Mobius smirks, trailing a hand down Loki's chest before cupping his hardened dick. 

 "I have a few ideas." 

Loki doesn't say anything, just staring at Mobius, desire burning in his eyes. Mobius leans forward, pressing a kiss against the corner of Loki's mouth. 

The human drops to his knees, pressing a kiss against the God's bulge. Loki's hand grabs Mobius's hair and pulls oh so slightly. 

"I love the sight of you on your knees for me."

Mobius doesn’t have the capacity to stifle his moan. He tilts his head back into Loki’s hands, looking up at his God. “It’s where I belong.”

Mobius bites his lip as he runs his hand along the line of his cock. It’s nearly impossible to keep eye contact and not start undoing the fastenings of Loki’s pants, but he’s a gentleman. 

Loki twitches beneath his touch and his mouth waters. The God nudges him the slightest bit, giving Mobius the go ahead.

He nearly dives forward, muffling a low sound against the fabric as he trails heavy open mouth kisses along his length. 

Mobius keeps his eyes on Loki as he starts to pray, gently holding out memories of the God all but writhing above him, gasping and whining from the pleasure Mobius brought him with his mouth and tongue.

"Oh." Loki's voice hitches on the single-syllable word. "I see what you're doing."

Mobius blinks up at him innocently, continuing to make out with Loki's dick through his pants. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He speaks low, mouth never pulling away from Loki. "I'm just trying to please my God." 

"Well, I'm very pleased." Loki grins. He yanks Mobius's hair and bucks his hips when he feels his lover moan against him. 

"I could just fuck your throat, and you'd let me, wouldn't you?" Loki says darkly. Mobius moans in confirmation. "You're such a whore, my whore. And right now, I want you to suck my dick like the whore you are."

Arousal surges through Mobius, making his spent cock ache. He didn’t think this through. He learned all of his magical sex tricks from the man he’s trying to use them on. 

“Your whore.” Mobius swallows thickly, trying to ignore how Loki’s dark look sends a thrill down his spine. 

His hands are behind him, one clutching the opposite wrist just above the small of his back. Even now, Mobius isn’t a quitter. Loki didn’t say he could use his hands. 

Mobius leaves one last kiss to the outline of Loki’s cock, now defined far more clearly. He rises slightly, taking the fabric just above the button between his teeth and tugging lightly. 

Loki raises an eyebrow as the button pops free, unimpressed and expectant. His need for approval pushes Mobius farther, pulling the zipper down as he watches Loki. The God keeps a hand in his hair, waiting for Mobius to do as he was told.

Mobius takes the edge of Loki's waist band with his teeth, scrapping against Loki's skin gently. The God seems to like it as he bucks forward at the sensation. 

He slowly works down Loki's pants. His lover isn't wearing any underwear. The slut. But, this does mean less work for Mobius! 

Once the God's cock is free, Mobius blows on the tip gently. Loki hisses him pleasure and bucks forward, his cock bouncing as he does. 

Loki pulls Mobius's hair, forcing his head up so they're making eye contact. "Don't tease" he says darkly. Mobius can feel himself begin to stir in his own pants.

After a moment of eye contact, Loki loosens his grip and Mobius returns to his cock. Maintaining eye contact the entire time, Mobius moves closer and licks to tip a few times before swallowing it down all the way, his nose pressing against Loki's pubic hair.

Mobius watches a flicker of satisfaction move across Loki’s face, hand tightening in his hair. It’s enough to remind him not to try anything, but he can still move, not that he wants to. 

Mobius lets his eyes fall shut as he focuses on the weight of Loki’s cock on his tongue. His hold on himself borders on bruising to keep from touching- himself or Loki, he’s not sure. A low sound of want rumbles up from his chest, reverberating through his throat. 

“That’s it, Mobius.” Loki’s voice is cold, the encouragement hollow. The use of his name makes Mobius whimper around him. 

Mobius bats his eyes up at Loki, thinking he might earn more praise as he starts to move his tongue. Instead, Loki starts to pull back. 

Despite how Mobius tries to follow, the hand in his hair keeps him still. When he realizes what’s happening, Mobius whines, desperate and loud. It’s barely muffled by the remander of Loki’s cock still left in his mouth. 

Before Mobius can think of how to start coaxing Loki back into his throat, the God slides back in. Mobius moans in relief, only for him to pull back again

Loki thrusts in and out of Mobius's mouth in hard, sharp thrusts. Mobius does his best to pleasure Loki as he does, humming around his cock, running his tongue around it. 

He loves it when Loki uses him like this: taking what he needs and not giving Mobius a second thought, treating him like an object, a toy whose only purpose is God's pleasure. 

"You worship me so well." Loki praises, not slowing down in the slightest. Mobius moans around Loki. 

"I should keep you like this. On your knees, the only thought in your head pleasuring me. Would you like that?" 

Yes. That sounds like heaven. Mobius lets his eyes slide shut, letting himself get lost in the fantasy. A sharp tug at his hair causes him to open his eyes.

"Keep your eyes on me."

Mobius’s response is another weak moan, pleading, and apologizing in one. It’s an honor to witness a God’s pleasure, one Loki could easily take from him. 

He keeps his eyes up, stroking Loki’s cock with his tongue. The God is every bit as put together as he was before, his expression dark, almost challenging, but the hunger in his eyes is clear. 

Tears that welled up from the intensity of his release cling to Mobius’s eyelashes. He feels himself tearing up again, not bothering to try and blink them away. Loki will leave him thoroughly debauched, one way or another. 

In spite of how it went before, or perhaps because of that, Mobius reaches out again. He doesn’t break eye contact as he prays, holding out his fantasy of serving his God. 

Loki’s breath hitches almost imperceptibly, the rough pace of his hips faltering just slightly. 

He gives a harsher thrust, his cock hitting the back of Mobius’s throat hard and sudden. While it fits as a reminder of Mobius’s place, they both know it’s a reward for being such an eager whore.

"You're so good at this." Loki praises, running his fingers gently through Mobius's hair. 

Mobius sends feelings of pleasure through prayer as a reaction to the praise. Loki is known to quickly flip back and forth from praise to degradation, and Mobius loves it all. 

Loki continues to praise him, telling him how beautiful he is like this. Mobius can feel his lover get closer and closer to the end. 

Mobius doubles down on his efforts, humming, working his tongue over Loki, and swallowing around him. 

With a few more thrusts, Loki spills down Mobius's throat. The human swallows every drop of the God’s cum, relishing in feeling.

Loki moans lowly, his head tilting back as he rides out his release on Mobius’s tongue. 

He’s a God. There’s never any doubt about that, especially not in moments like this. The light catches on his skin and for a moment he seems to glow. 

Mobius keeps Loki in his mouth, gently sucking as his lover shudders and eventually stills. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his whine when Loki slowly pulls away, tucking his sensitive, softening dick back into his pants. 

“Whore,” Loki mutters, shaking his head. He acts half annoyed, but he’s grinning. 

Mobius swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, catching any cum he might have missed. He stands, knees wobbly, and Loki braces him almost reflexively. 

Only then does Mobius let go of his wrist. He ignores the stiffness in his fingers as he unclenches his fist, covering Loki’s hand on his hip. The other rises to his partner’s chest as he leans in, kissing him sweetly.

"I love you." The God murmurs against his lover's lips. 

"I love you too." Mobius responds. The hand around his waist pulls him closer, not in any sort of sexual way, but with a soft, gentle need to be close to eachother. 

Loki pulls back first, looking down at Mobius with a mischievous yet soft smile on his face. 

"What?" Mobius is weary. That look is either completely innocent, or he's about to be a bastard. 

"I told you I would feed you." Ah. A bastard it is. 

Mobius snorts and pushes him away, the God falling back easily with a loud laugh. 

"Asshole." The human glares playfully. 

"My apologies." Loki really isn't sorry, and Mobius knows that. "Allow me to make it up to you." 

With a wave of his hand, which is entirely for show, Loki summons an entire feast of Asgardian foods that Loki has noted Mobius enjoys.

“Someday, I’ll actually make you dinner.”

Loki hums doubtingly and gets a sidelong glare. 

“Rude.” Mobius leans back against the counter, gazing almost wistfully at their dinner. A feast fit for a king, or ten. This will be gone in moments. 

He wants to make something like this for Loki someday—from scratch and not out of a half dozen boxes—to actually provide for his partner. “How can I get better if you don’t let me feed you?”

“Oh, I’ll let you feed me.” 

Loki gives him an almost cartoonishly overdone leer. His grin wavers as he tries to hold in another laugh. 

There’s a heavy current of want just below, one that never leaves no matter how recently they’ve been together. It’s Loki’s innate, Godly horniness. Mobius has learned to love him in spite of it. 

“And I’m the whore?” Mobius mutters under his breath as he shoves off the counter. He should put the attempt at dinner into the fridge, but he’s far too distracted by the meal before him. “Dinner before dessert, Lokes.”

They have a pleasant rest of their evening. He puts in the time of request the next day, and, to no one's surprise, it's approved. 

They spend the week of their anniversary much the same way they spent the first week of knowing eachother, wrapped in each other's arms, only leaving the bed when nature calls. 

During a moment of rest, Loki once again brings up the idea of going public about their relationship. 

Mobius smiles up at him, completely satisfied and on the verge of sleep, and reaches out to cup the side of his lover's face. "It's up to you Lokes. I would love to shout from the rooftops that you're mine, but I'm also fine if the world thinks I'm dating 'Lucas'. Whatever you feel is right, I'll agree with you."

"I want to.'' Loki admits. "But I..." He trails off, clearly nervous about this. 

"Then whenever you're ready. You don't have to check in with me first."

Loki ducks his head down and kisses his partner deeply, and Mobius eagerly kissed back. 

After another soft round of lovemaking, Mobius starts to doze off, head pillowed against Loki's bare chest. Right before he's fully asleep, he almost hears what sounds like a camera's shutter on a phone. 

He falls asleep smiling.

Their week passes in a haze of lovemaking, tender and.. less so. They are unceasingly sweet with each other, but sweet doesn’t mean gentle. 

As their time in their oasis wound to a close, the end of their final night alone drawing near, Loki took Mobius into his arms and made love to him, slow and passionate, savoring every tender caress of his lover until they were both trembling, well into the early hours of the next morning. Sleep overtook them not long after they found release, bodies still pressed against each other in a lovers’ embrace 

Then he woke Mobius a few hours later for another round. 

When Mobius wakes to the sound of his alarm with a low, agonized groan, he tears himself away from Loki to prepare for work. 

There’s a long moment after his shower where Mobius stands bare before his mirror. This has become a ritual for him, done in only a few moments every morning before he leaves. The marks he admires so dearly are hidden to the world, save for Loki and Mobius himself. 

Typically, after only a single night between these moments, he only has one or two new bruises, easily traced with an awing finger and then covered by his shirt collar. This is by far the longest he’s gone, and the most covered he’s been. 

Loki left bruises across his entire body. There’s handprints around his ankles, on his thighs, his hips, his arms, even the slight impression of Loki’s thumb just above his collar bone. The trail of hickeys and bites is even worse. There isn’t a single part of him left unmarked, unclaimed. 

Mobius has never felt so loved. 

He’s twisted slightly, running his fingers over a heavy bite on the back of his neck, verging onto his shoulder. A quiet of him hopes that it scars.

The idea is enough of a distraction that Mobius doesn’t notice Loki behind him until his arms are wrapped around his waist, drawing him back to his chest. Loki presses his cool lips against the mark, a soft rush of magic moving over his skin as his eyes connect with Mobius’s in the mirror. 

“You’re making it harder to leave,” Mobius says, leaning back into his partner. 

Loki hums, resting his chin on his shoulder. “That’s the point.”

Mobius tilts his head to the side, their temples tapping against each other. Loki’s still half asleep, eyes heavy lidded and bleary. Mobius could remain here in this exact moment for the rest of his life. 

He has to leave, though. Life goes on, even when they don’t want it to. Loki gives him a soft, lingering kiss at the door, murmuring words of love against his lips before letting him go. 

Despite how much he wishes he was still at home, there’s a certain skip in his step. It could be considered a limp. Mobius is almost excited to return to work, if mostly just to see his friends. He feels refreshed. He’s ready to start the day. 

His newfound zest for office life evaporates almost instantly as he enters the Tower.

Everyone is staring. The entire lobby is silent, which is entirely unusual for such a busy building like Stark Towers. 

Mobius pauses at the door, looking around and trying to figure out what's going on. After a moment, he forces himself to continue through the lobby, towards the security check he goes through daily. 

He scans his ID badge, and instead of flashing green like always, the light turns red. Mobius tries not to get nervous. He's sure they probably just updated the system while he was gone, and he needs a new badge. That's plausible, right? 

"Excuse me, sir. You're going to need to come with us." Mobius turns around and sees two security guards behind him. 

"Oh. It's okay, I actually work here, see?" He hands out his badge. "I don't know why it's not scanning." 

Neither of the guards look at the offered badge. 

"Sir, we will not ask again." The same one says. Mobius drops his arm. The one furthest from him starts walking, and the one closest jerks his head, indicating that Mobius should follow. 

He feels intimated, walking through the halls he knows so well, one guard in front of him and one behind. Is this what prisoners feel like? 

"Mobius!" Sylvie comes running down the hall to him.

"Ma'am, please stay back." The front guard orders. 

"Sylvie! What's going on?" Mobius honestly doesn't have a single clue. 

"They know. Everyone knows." Sylvie is held back by the front guard as Mobius is shoved forward by the back. 

"Know what?" 

"About Loki! They know that you’re dating Loki!’

Oh fuck. 

The guards seem to get set even more on edge at the mention of Loki, and Mobius gets it. This is not how he was expecting today to go

“Tell Ravonna I’m gonna be late.” It’s all Mobius can think to say. It’s all he can ask of her. 

Sylvie’s expression shifts, still fighting the guard. “Mobius-”

“I mean it, Sylv,” Mobius gives her a weak smile. “I’m more scared of her than whatever they’re going to do to me.”

Sylvie stares for a second before falling back with a final shove to the guard’s shoulder. She gives him a stiff nod, one that he returns. It all feels grim. 

Unencumbered, the guards march him to an elevator. When they enter, one swipe a keycard, revealing a hidden set of buttons. The guard presses the second from the top, and Mobius takes a second to be grateful they’re not going to a sub basement. At least the upper stories have windows from which he can jump. His body will be found, probably. 

The ride is long, or maybe Mobius is just anxious. They arrive on a floor completely unlike the ones he’s seen. It’s clearly not corporate office space. 

He’s marched down the unfamiliar halls, around a corner, stopping abruptly at a set of double doors. A guard opens one of them while his partner gives Mobius a look, somehow both pointed and expressionless. 

With a deep breath, he steps inside. 

The room is large and beautifully designed. The walls are mixed materials, dynamic and inviting, the love child of a feral architect and a steampunk interior designer. 

Mobius only gets to admire the room for a split second before its occupants come into focus. 

At the central table, seated and staring daggers at Mobius, are the Avengers. All except Thor, his only ally. Mobius is fucked.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark, the only man in the room Mobius has ever met, looks at him with utter contempt. His eyes move from Mobius’s face to the single unoccupied chair at the end of the table. “Sit.” 

“Really?” Mobius asks, any sense of self-preservation long dead at this point. “If you’re firing me, I’d rather skip the meeting and start packing my desk, if that’s alright with you.”

"This isn't a joke, Mobius." Natasha, the Black Widow, says sternly. Mobius has to bite his lip to avoid saying anything that might get him even more trouble. Maybe Loki is rubbing off on him too much.

"The gangs all here." Mobius notes as he sits, looking at each of them. "Except for Thor, that is. Where is my boss anyway?" 

"He can't be trusted to be partial when it comes to his brother." Natasha's voice is full of judgment. 

"And you guys can?" Mobius doesn't mean to say that out loud. He really didn't. Black Widow's lips purse, and the corners of her eyes tighten. 

"How long have you been seeing Loki?" Tony asks, getting to the point. Mobius hesitates. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie?

"Honesty is going to be best here." Bruce softly speaks from his seat. He fidgets with his glasses and gives Mobius a small, reassuring smile. 

"Two years." Mobius answers quietly. 

"Did you start seeing him before or after the incident in New York?" Tony asks again immediately. The conversation must be being recorded because no one writes down his answer. He thinks about pointing out that he was not made aware that he was going to be recorded beforehand, but that's not going to help him right now. 

"After." He's going to keep his answers short and to the point. It's his best bet. 

"Before or after you started working here?" Natasha asks this one. 

"After."

"Did you know who he was when the relationship started?" Bruce's voice is by far the softest, almost apologetic that this is happening. 

"I did." Mobius confirms.

"How did you meet him?" Tony asks this one. 

"I was on my way to work one morning, and he..." Mobius trails off. This is not going to look good for Loki or their relationship.

"He what?" Natasha presses.

"He kidnapped me in an attempt to get Thor's attention." 

"A-ha!" Mobius almost forgot that Clint Barton was in the room. He speaks for the first time, seemingly happy. "It makes sense, Loki's controlling this guy."

"What?" Mobius is flabbergasted. 

"I mean, really, why didn't we think of that first? Who would willingly be in a relationship with Loki." 

"I'm not being controlled." Mobius says, trying to keep his anger in check. How dare Barton?

"Don't worry, I didn't know I was being controlled either. Not until I was set free. But don't worry, we'll get you help." Clint soothes Mobius.

"I'm not being controlled." He reiterates, louder this time. "And I'm not being threatened either."

“He’s manipulating you,” Clint says, so sure of himself that it makes Mobius’s skin crawl. “It’s not your fault, we know. We’re going to get you the help you need.”

“You clearly don’t know,” Mobius says, teeth clenched. Up to ten. Down to one. “Our relationship is atypical, but I am a consenting adult. Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

Bruce makes a small gesture, not directed at Mobius, as if trying to motion for Clint to bring it down. 

Clint does not bring it down. 

“What happened when he kidnapped you?” He asks as if suddenly Mobius will remember some great torture and switch sides. 

“You want the play-by-play?” Barton must not be able to see that he’s angry. He nods, polite and good-natured, like Mobius isn’t halfway to lunging at him. “I woke up in a warehouse. Loki introduced himself. I asked for my phone back. He gave it to me. I called out. A week later, I asked to leave. He returned me to my apartment.”

“A week?” Tony’s expression is neutral, but Mobius can see under it. His voice and shift in posture give him away. 

“October ninth to sixteenth,” Mobius confirms. He almost wants to tell them what happened just to see their reactions, but their relationship is more than a shock factor, and he won’t let his guard down like that. “My file should say that I was sick and or mugged.”

"If you weren't sick-" Steve begins, only for Tony to cut him off with an interjection of

"Or mugged!"

Steve sighs. "or mugged," he amends. "Then what were you doing?" 

"I can't tell you." Mobius says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

"Why not? Is it because he's threatening you?" Clint asks, trying to be the good guy. 

"No." Mobius glares at him. "It's because I'm pretty sure it's an HR violation for you to ask me about it." They all look at him for a moment, trying to process what he just said. 

"You fucked him." Natasha says flatly. Mobius shrugs once again, not confirming or denying anything. 

"So let me get this straight." Clint starts, and Mobius is already wishing he would shut up. "He kidnapped you, forced you to give the all clear, and then had his way with you? And you really don't think he's manipulating you?" 

Before Mobius can say anything, a voice that should very much not be here right down speaks from the corner of the room.

"Believe it or not, Barton, some of us don't have to force ourselves upon others." Loki says. He sounds bored, but Mobius can hear the anger underneath. 

Everyone in the room is suddenly on their feet, Mobius included. Clint has an arrow nocked, Natasha has her guns out, Tony has a gauntlet on and powered up, and all three have their weapons aimed directly at Loki. Steve pulls his shield out from under the table, ready to let it fly at a moment's notice, and Bruce looks like he is starting to turn green around the edges but is fighting it.

Loki stands in the corner, seemingly unfazed by any of this. 

"Loki, what the hell are you doing here?" Mobius asks, panicking. 

"Your distress was quite clear; it was almost as if you were screaming it to me. I had to come to make sure you're okay. And when I do, what do I find? The archer suggesting that I did one of the most depraved things possible."

"Yeah, well, sorry for not thinking you're the pinnacle of morality." Clint snarks, fingers itching to let go. 

"Put your pathetic weapons away. They are no threat to a God."

"You're right." Natasha says. Steve glances over at her before focusing back on what he considers the threat. "These won't hurt you, but they'll hurt him." She changes her aim from Loki to Mobius.

The human raises his hands, a jolt of fear shooting down his spine. He knows that Loki won't let anything happen to him, but this is a highly trained, deadly assassin pointing her guns at him.

Of course he's afraid. 

"Natasha! What are you doing? We don't threaten our own!" Steve scolds. She doesn't even bother to look at him.

"He's not one of ours, cap. He's with the enemy." 

"I assure you, if you harm him, it will be the last mistake you ever make." Loki all but growls. 

"Natasha, put the gun down now!" Steve orders, but Natasha pays him no mind. A loud 'boom' rings out, and Mobius instinctively flinches, waiting for the pain to hit him.

"What in the nine realms is going on in here?"

“Brother,” Loki greets dully. “How nice of you to join us.”

Natasha’s aim falls from Mobius’s head to his knees as she lowers her weapon. This is the most eventful day of Mobius’s life, and it’s not even eight-fifteen. 

“Brother!” Thor returns the sentiment brighter than Loki, but no less concerned than before. “Congratulations are in order, but first…”

Thor trails with uncertainty, and Mobius can’t help himself. “I don’t think they approve.”

Barton lets out a humorless laugh. Of course, because everyone here wants to hear more of what he has to say. “He’s a criminal.”

“You’re an annoyance.” Clint’s bowstring snaps in a spark of green. There’s a glimmer at the back of Natasha’s gun and Loki starts toying with a small piece of metal that appears in his hand. 

‘Firing pin.’ Loki says into Mobius’s mind. He radiates comfort and safety, the edges of his presence still soft with sleep. 

‘You know what that is?’

‘I couldn’t have you getting mugged.’

Mobius rolls his eyes, his raised hands relaxing slightly. “Can we try talking this out again? It was kinda going terribly, but maybe..?”

A spark of anger is at the edge of his mind, radiating from Loki. Before his God can speak, the other does. “Again? I was not informed of any inquiry.” 

“It is an interrogation,” Loki spits. “The announcement of our courtship was met with hostility from your dearest Avengers.”

“Hey,” Mobius chides. “They’re not hostile because we’re c- what do you mean announcement?”

The anger turns to domestic dread. “The portrait? Surely, you recall, I told you this morning.”

“… I’m going to kill you.”

"Darling-" The God tries to soothe him, reaching out with his consciousness to Mobius's. Mobius doesn't rebuff the mental connection; he never does. Loki needs to know that he is loved, even if Mobius is mad at him. 

"Don't you 'darling' me, Loki. Why the fuck did you not tell me?"Mobius is angry, but not as angry as he appears to be. His anxiety and frustration at this situation is coming out at this moment, and Loki is his target. 

"I assure you that I did." Loki weakly protests. 

"I assure you, you did not! I would remember that!" 

"Would you have preferred that I did not share the portrait?" To the Avengers, Loki seems like he doesn't care, but both Mobius and Thor can hear the worry in his voice. 

"Lokes, of course not." Mobius closes the space between them, taking both of the God's hands in his own. "I told you I'd support us going public whenever you were ready. It would have just been nice to have a little warning, that's all."

"I shall endeavor to do so next time." Loki says weakly. Mobius smiles and kisses his lover gently. Someone, most likely Clint, makes a fake vomit sound behind them, but Mobius ignores him. 

A thought suddenly occurs, and he pulls back. "Hang on, what was the photo?" 

"Jarvis, can you pull it up, please?" Tony says. The TV behind Iron Man sparks to life. On it is a photo of the two of them, covered waist down with their blanket, but clearly naked. Half of Loki's face is visible in the top right corner, but the focus is clearly on Mobius. 

Mobius is seemingly asleep, his head resting on Loki's chest, his arm wrapped around him. From what is visible of his neck, he's covered in hickeys. 

When combined with both of them having messy hair, it becomes obvious what just happened. 

Despite Mobius's eyes being closed in the photo, there's a soft smile on his face. Anyone who sees this can not deny that these two are in love.

Well, Mobius’s hometown definitely knows he’s queer now. 

There’s a soft smile growing on his face, not all that different from the one in the image. “You took the charm off?”

“Perhaps?”

Mobius lets his feelings on the matter flow over to Loki, his pride and honor and the quietest whisper of lust. They both like being marked just a bit too much. “Your days are numbered.”

Loki nods solemnly, accepting the guilty verdict. His sentence for such an act will be the same fate as Mobius, being given as many hickeys as his body will possibly allow. 

Mobius takes a half step back from him, putting a hand on Loki’s shoulder to urge him forward, only for him to touch skin instead of armor. The armor seems to sputter before completely evaporating, leaving Loki in his favorite pair of Mobius’s sweats and nothing else. 

“You were distressed,” Loki says simply. Without the illusion, he looks as tired as his consciousness feels. He’s slumped, as much as a prince will allow himself to slump, hair messily tied back, his eyes partly closed. In another situation, Mobius would fawn over him. There’s a long moment where Mobius just stares. Then, 

“Too much has happened for me to address this.”

“Understandable.” 

Mobius rubs a tired hand over his face. “C’mon. Let’s finish this interrogation.”

"There's nothing left to interrogate. Loki will be arrested immediately for his crimes, and you, Mobius, will be fired. Be glad you are not being charged  as well." Captain America is fully here now, Steve using his authoritative tone.

"You can't do that." Mobius interjects, feeling Loki tense under his hand. 

"He needs to pay for his crimes. New York-" 

"Wasn't his fault!" Mobius cuts Steve off, shifting so he's standing between Loki and the Avengers. It's almost a humorous sight, a human protecting a God. 

"Mobius." Loki says softly. 

"What do you mean 'wasn't his fault'?" Bruce is still slightly green, but he's much lighter than he was just moments before. 

Mobius turns back to Loki, eyes a mix of apologetic and pleading. "You have to tell them."

"I- I cannot." 

"Loki, I know it's not fun to talk about, but they're going to take you away from me." Mobius pleads. 

"I can evade them." Loki deflects. 

"I can't." 

"I'll protect you." Loki says as fiercely as possible.

"I don't want to live on the run forever. I want to stay in our little apartment, wake up in your arms every day without having to look over my other shoulder. I want a life with you." 

Loki is silent for a long time, looking at Mobius, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He swallows heavily and, without looking away from Mobius, speaks. 

"When I led the invasion on New York, I was not in control of my actions." Loki says softly, and Clint snorts from where he stands. The God turns his eyes towards the archer, glaring. "I was no more in control of my actions as you were of yours."

"You can't expect us to believe that." Steve says. Mobius pushes a calm, reassuring, supportive wave through their bond.

Loki can do this. 

"As I am sure Thor has told you, I am not an Asgardian, but Jotun, more commonly known as a Frost Giant." 

"I did not tell them, brother. They knew you were adopted, but nothing else." Thor speaks. Loki looks over at him, confusion clear on his face. "It was not my place to tell. On top of that, I do not care. You are my brother, whether you be Asgardian, Jotun, or even Midguardian."

Tears begin to grow in Loki's eyes, but only Mobius can see them. "Thank you, brother. I did not take it well when I found out."

"Growing up, Thor and I were taught to hate the Jotun, fear them. Kill them. When I found out I was one of the monsters, I did everything I could to prove to myself and to Odin that I wasn't really one of them. I killed my birth father and tried to destroy the entire realm of Jotunheim. Thankfully, Thor stopped me. Odin rejected me, and I tried to kill myself by letting go and falling from the Bifrost." Mobius reaches out and squeezes Loki's hand, reassuring him that he is loved. 

"I survived and was 'rescued' by the Mad Titan, Thanos. He tried to control my mind with the stone, much the way the archer was, except my mental defenses were much higher due to my magical abilities. So, to break those down, he tortured me. Physically and mentally. I will not get into the graphic details, but know he succeeded. I felt the stone invade my mind and grab ahold of me. I was not freed until you did so." He looks to Bruce as he says this. "I give you my thanks for that."

Bruce shifts uncomfortably, giving Loki a tight smile and a little nod. 

"Well, isn't that all very convenient?" Clint sneers. 

"Clint." Steve warns.

"Cap, this guy's entire deal is lying."

"I have seen my brother lie many times. I can tell you that this is not one of them." Thor defends his brother, and Clint rolls his eyes. 

"Come on, Thor, that's the biggest load of Bull Shi-" 

"I believe him." Tony speaks for the first time since Loki showed up. He absently runs his hand over his arc reactor, mind clearly somewhere else.

Loki gives Tony a stiff nod of thanks, taking a deep, shaky breath. He squeezes Mobius’s hand, bordering on too hard, and tries to organize his mind. 

The world knows that he and Mobius are lovers. Thor’s Avengers know about Thanos, and his Jotunn nature. He has no great secrets left to hide. Loki doesn’t know how to feel other than exhausted. 

“You have to be kidding me.” Clint looks around at the faces of his team, who seem to have been drawn in by this half-dressed huckster. “Am I the only person who can see what’s going on here?”

“You are the only person I victimized directly,” Loki answers, low and even. The voice is practiced, the words carefully rehearsed. “My actions were not my own, but you were still harmed by my hand. Your mistrust is well founded.”

“What?” 

Loki’s eyes meet Clint’s. There’s no mischief, no trickery in them, just a weary man who’s seen too much. “If you ever wish to speak about it-“

“Fuck you.” Clint sounds disgusted, truly and utterly. He probably is. 

“As the one who placed this burden upon you, who bears the same from another, I understand your contempt.” Loki continues on with the script, unflinching. He’s heard far worse from the bereft. He’s said far worse to himself. “If you ever change your mind, you need only say.”

Clint looks like he wants to lash out. His first clenches shut, and he takes a step toward Loki but abandons the motion halfway through. After glaring at Loki for another few seconds, he turns on his heel and marches out of the room, his shoulders bumping into Thor as he passes him.

"Come on." Mobius speaks gently, leading Loki to the chair he had been sitting in before the trickster God's appearance. Loki sits down heavily, yet gracefully, as one would expect of royalty. Mobius pulls another chair over and sits, clasping Loki's hand tightly and pushing wave after wave of love toward his partner. 

"Brother. " Thor says solemnly. I am sorry we did not find you sooner. Had I known you were still alive, I would have looked everywhere," he promises. 

"I know, brother." It's true, despite their fight before Loki let go, he knows Thor would not have left him at Thanos's mercy.

"So, where do we go from here?" Bruce asks, looking around the room.

"We have to get on top of this." Tony takes charge. If anyone in this room knows how to manipulate the media, it's him. "It was one thing when you were running around on Earth, but now that you're dating a human? And one that is so closely connected to Stark Industries and the Avengers? Whole other ball game."

"Mobius, I want you to go meet up with your team. Until we get this figured out, I want the social media crew to come up with ideas on how to show the world that Loki's not a threat."

"Natasha, go check on Barton, make sure he's not doing anything stupid. Bruce, Steve, I need you two to keep everything running as smoothly as possible. I'm going to go meet with the lawyer to see what he can do about clearing him of any blame for the New York incident." Tony hands out the rolls like he had this planned the whole time.

"What about me, Man of Iron?" Thor fears that his friend has forgotten about him.

"I figured you might want some time to catch up with your brother."

From there, the gathered people start to disperse. 

Natasha slips out as soon as she’s given her marching orders, quick and silent. There’s a momentary glimmer in Loki’s hand once she’s out the door as her firing pin is returned. 

Steve and Bruce start to discuss something, leaving the room through a side exit. Tony takes a different door and pulls out his phone to begin yet another long call to legal. 

Last to leave is, of course, Mobius. He lingers as much as he can, but as his anxiety levels out, he knows he has to go to work. Thor and Loki deserve time alone. With a heavy flood of love and warmth through their bond, he kisses his partner goodbye and steals himself for Ravonna. 

Thor sits in a chair, pulling it up next to Loki. The young Gods look at each other, seeing past the facades of their appearance. They are worried and tired, but more than anything, the reunion brings relief. Loki may be worse for wear in some ways, but overall, they are both healthy. They’re alive.

Thor looks over his brother for a moment. He looks like he could fall asleep any second, but not in a sickly way. He looks healthier than the last time Thor saw him, that's for sure. His skin is a healthier color, no longer tinged grey. There is a lively light in his eyes that was painfully absent when they last saw each other. The most worrying thing is the large scar across his chest, but it looks healed.

He has missed his brother deeply. He mourned when he thought Loki dead, and now knowing that he wasn't, instead he was being tortured, Thor feels guilt beginning to bubble in his chest. He could have saved his younger brother from such horrors. He should have. Instead, he didn't know until it was too late. 

The God of thunder can't resist the urge anymore. He pulls Loki into a hug so tight it would break ribs. The younger God struggles weakly, as is expected of him, but gives up quickly. He relaxes against his brother.

"I have missed you, brother." Thor says softly. 

"And I you." Loki responds. He truly has. Not only that, but he regrets his actions. When he found out the truth about himself, he lashed out at everyone, his brother included. Had he thought through things instead of acting rashly, fueled by emotions as he always accused Thor of, then none of this would have happened.

Thor pulls away from Loki, keeping a hand on his shoulder, and looks at him with brotherly love shining in his eyes. "We have much to discuss." 

"We do." Loki agrees. "But not today." 

"Agreed. We will have more than enough time for all of that. But I must say... Mobius." 

"Yes?" Loki raises a single eyebrow. "What of him?" 

"He seems good for you. I approve of him." Loki rolls his eyes at Thor's words. 

"I do not need your approval, brother." Loki says, and yet there is a slight smile on his face.

“And still, you have it.” Thor’s smile broadens at the softness in his brother’s form. Still as quick as ever, the warmth in his expression belies a kind of comfort Thor hasn’t seen in him in years, if ever. The small smile might be the first he's ever seen reach Loki’s eyes. 

Eyes that Loki rolls with a playful tinge of annoyance that Thor remembers from their youth. “I will be sure to let him know.”

Loki doesn’t want to think too deeply. As the secondhand fear fades from his mind, his week’s worth of exhaustion rolls back into place. It’s a riptide, the only way to stay above is to tread the waters of his mind with simple thoughts. Acknowledging why Thor’s approval means so much will undoubtedly pull him under. 

“I am sure he already does.” Thor smiles in a way that sends a chill down Loki’s spine. That look is familiar. That look is one of his own. “It has been hard not to ask after you these last few years.”

Loki nearly faints. In this delicate state, he has to choose between wakefulness and a neutral expression. His balance wobbles, a hand shooting out to brace against the arm of his chair with a grip just a little too tight. 

“You don’t-“

“I do, brother.” Loki thinks this may be what finally ends his life. Not embarrassment or fear, but the simple mental overload at the idea of Thor being observant. 

“How?” It’s barely more than a rasp. His world is collapsing around him. 

“How?” Thor raises an eyebrow. Loki feels his mind is becoming liquid, refusing to continue existing in this terrible universe. “You left him glowing with your magic.”

"You... You warned him." The realization strikes Loki like a hammer to the chest.

"I did."

"Why didn't you-" Loki questions, but is cut off by Thor. 

"He seemed happy, and I could only assume that you were happy as well. I knew if I told him I knew, you would run."

Loki wants to argue, but he knows Thor is correct. He would have run, and he would have regretted it. 

"Thank you." Loki's voice doesn't crack, but it's a near thing. 

"There is no need to thank me, brother. I have failed you time and time again, and I will spend the l rest of my life trying to make up for it."

Chapter Text

"Mobius! Are you okay?" Sylvie is the first one to see him. As soon as she speaks, everyone turns to look at him, varying expressions on their faces. 

"I'm fine, Sylvie." He reassures with a forced easy smile. 

"What did-". Her line of questioning is cut off by Ravonna stepping out of her office and clearing her throat. 

"Listen up, everyone. We have a big assignment Stark just handed down to us. I'm sure all of you know about the large announcement made early this morning on Instagram." She glances at Mobius for a second, not breaking her stride. "We have to figure out a way to gain sympathy for Loki, make the public not, to put it gently, hate him." 

"Why should we bother?" Devin questions, earning one of Ravonna's legendary glares. 

"Other than the fact that our boss has told us too? Apparently, there are larger things at play."

"What kind of things?" Bea asks but doesn't get a glare. 

"I wasn't told."

“Consider yourself lucky,” Mobius says under his breath. He’s smart enough not to be heard, not after the shit show upstairs. Sylvie nudges his arm sympathetically. 

“We are five hours behind on this.” Ravonna says pointedly. They all know what that means. The longer the media has to spin something, the harder it is to pull it back. They’re lucky Loki didn’t sleep; if it had been any later in the morning, this would have been a lost cause. 

“We don’t have the time to question this,” She continues, not aimed at anyone. The neutrality directs it at Mobius. “We need ideas, good, actionable ideas, and fast.”

They have had incidences like this before. The office becomes a chaotic bustle in a matter of seconds. Interns and team members of all ranks start bouncing ideas off each other and shooting them down just as quickly. 

For this, there’s just silence. 

Mobius knows why; he gets it, but seeing it up close like this hurts. Loki is hated for things that were out of his control. The blank and empty expressions of even the most eager recruits makes his stomach twist

"Come on, everyone, let's get started!" Bea's voice snaps everyone into motion. Everyone breaks into groups and quietly talks amongst themselves. 

No one teams up with Mobius, which isn't so surprising. He knows a few people in the office lost someone during the attack, and he isn't sure how he would react if their situations were reversed. 

"Hey whore!" Sylvie calls from across the office, where she and Bea sit at her desk. "You coming? We got work to do."

Mobius smiles gratefully at her and makes his way over. At least she's not abandoning him. 

They work for hours, trying to come up with ideas. Well, Mobius, Sylvie, and Bea do. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone else is doing literally anything else. 

But surprisingly, it's not one of them who figure out a solution, it's Casey. 

"I think I got it." He says softly. Usually, he wouldn't be able to be heard over everyone, but it's so quiet he's heard easily. 

"What's your idea?" Ravonna asks, turning his eyes from her computer screen to him.

"Well, we need to humanize Loki and make people sympathize with him, right?" 

Ravonna nods. "That would work, but how do we accomplish that?"

"We should do like a love stream Q&A. People can ask him questions and see he's just like us." 

"That could work." Ravonna tilts her head slightly to the side, clearly thinking it over. 

"Even better," Sylvie adds on. "This whole thing is because his and Mobius's relationship is public knowledge now, right?" She waits until Ravonna nods to continue. "Put Mobius in with him."

“God, no.” 

Mobius can’t help it. He’s been able to avoid acknowledging that he got them into this mess for this long, but the impulse kicks in. 

“Would it not work?” Sylvie challenges. She knows ‘Lucas’ well enough to know that it absolutely will. 

“I’m not comfortable in front of the camera.” It’s true. He’s kept his face off all his personal social media, save a private Instagram that a painfully select few people follow. He gets anxious at the DMV. The thought of doing such a big livestream makes him curl with anxiety

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Mobius feels himself tinge the slightest bit red as he slumps forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are we doing this now?”

“Yes.” Bea sets her pen down, attention leaving her notes to hone in on him. “People know you’re fucking him. They’re going to want to know you sooner or later. Focusing on your relationship is a quick way to distract from his last…ya know.”

Oh fuck, that is the cost of this. Going public means dealing with the public. They should have just told their friends and been done with it, fuck everyone else. 

“He would definitely need someone with him during, but I can’t.” Loki can barely keep his head on straight while channel surfing; he would be overwhelmed by a livestream. 

“I don’t have a filter. Whatever platform or account we do this on has to remain professional, and I cannot maintain that for any legitimate amount of time.” Mobius knows his tangents would only waste time. He can’t let himself detract from the point they’re trying to make. “We should put in Thor.”

Sylvie scoffs. “Thor is his brother. They won’t listen when he says they should trust him; he’s biased.”

“And I’m not?”

"Yes, but you're also human. Thor's not." Bea points out, and fuck, it's a good point. Mobius runs a hand down his face and sighs. He really doesn't want to do this. 

"Look, I-" 

"Do you love him?" Sylvie asks very pointedly. 

"What?" Why the fuck is she asking this?

"I said, do you love him?" 

Mobius looks around at his co-workers, all of whom are staring at him. 

"Sylvie-"

"Mobius, it's a yes or a no." Bea joins in on the 'bully Mobius into confessing his love for a man that a lot of people here hate' train.

"It's not-" 

"Yes or no!"

"Yes!" Mobius snaps before taking a deep breath and calming himself.  "Yeah, I... Obviously." He can feel his face burn with a blush, and he ducks his head, refusing to meet anyone's eye. 

"Then you have to do this. Before they take your relationship and twist it into something it's not." Sylvie says gently, and he knows she's right. He thinks back to what Clint accused Loki of and he knows the media will only be worse. So much worse. 

"I-" Mobius doesn't know what to say. They're right, it's a good idea, but he doesn't think he can do it. "I'm going to the bathroom." He mutters, standing up and making his way towards them. 

"Mobius, we're not done discussing this yet." Ravonna calls after him, but he doesn't stop. He'll deal with the scolding he'll get later. Right now, he needs to get out of this room. 

When he gets to the bathroom, he locks himself in the largest stall and sits on the floor. Yeah, he knows it's disgusting, but he doesn't care now. 

He hesitantly reaches out to Loki, not wanting to interrupt his reunion with his brother, but they need to talk about this. He tries to be as calm as possible but must not do a very good job because Loki sends back calming waves. 

In the blink of an eye, someone is standing in front of the stall door in Mobius's old slippers, and Mobius almost laughs. 

"Darling?" Loki's voice is soft and comforting. "Can I come in?"

Mobius nods, sighing, "Yeah," as he stares into the tile. His slippers disappear, and next to him, a familiar warmth pulls him from the edge of panic.

He’s practically in a ball, legs crossed, and body curled in on himself. Loki’s presence beside him loosens the tension in his muscles, drawing Mobius closer. As he leans against him, one of the God’s hands finds its way to Mobius’s hair. 

It takes Mobius a while to speak again. Loki comforts him through their bond, enveloping him in warmth and love like a mental embrace, but a stubborn part of this fear refuses to melt away. 

Loki is still wavering at the edge of sleep, his thoughts hazy and out of focus but no less clear. The poor man looks run-ragged, and even though it was his choice not to sleep these last few days, Mobius can’t help but feel guilty about it. 

“I love you,” Mobius says quietly. He says it every day and shares it through their bond nearly constantly. The people around him knew that he loved Lucas; he wasn’t shy about it, but he hadn’t told anyone else that he loves Loki. Something about saying it made everything feel so heavy. 

“And I love you.” Loki returns quietly, fingers carding through Mobius’s hair soothingly. He feels so safe here, even when his head swears he’s not. 

Mobius sighs, loosening his grip, a tightly held current of emotional exhaustion. “I hate this.”

With his free hand, Loki takes one of Mobius’s, gently rubbing the side with his thumb. 

“I want the world to know,” Mobius says softly. There’s a feeling low in his throat that he knows will probably become a lump. Logic says that this is anxiety and stress, but he’s hardly the one who should be stressed right now. 

“I want to hold your hand in public. I want people to see us and know that I love you, and that you’re a good man, and that-“ Mobius cuts himself off with a hiccupy sound, dropping his head to Loki’s shoulder. His partner fought for them, nearly died for them, and Mobius can’t do a Q&A

“They want us to do a livestream,” He finally says. There’s no fluctuation in Loki’s love through the bond, but if he knew, Mobius is sure he’d roll his eyes and tell him to toughen up. 

Well, he wouldn’t, but there would be the same kind of irritation. Mobius pulled him away from Thor for this? Something so insignificant?

“We’ll answer questions, people will watch us interact, they’ll see who you are. they’ll see us.” Mobius would roll his eyes at the thought if it weren’t his own. “If I fuck up.. my mistakes are only going to hurt you.”

Loki lightly flicks the center of Mobius's forehead. "Hey." The human lightly protests, giving his lover a questioning look. 

"You're projecting your thoughts. Stop thinking mean things about my beloved." He gets scolded lightly. 

"Hmmm. I've heard he's a bitch." Mobius jokes dryly.

"I will fight anyone who speaks that way about him." 

"Well, then, square up." Mobius chuckles and realizes that was Loki's goal. He looks up at his partner and smiles—it's barely a smile, but it counts. "Thank you." 

"You don't need to thank me." Loki assures him. "If this livestream is what we must do, then that is what we'll do." 

"Are you sure? It's going to be a lot of people asking a lot of questions. Even uncomfortable ones." Especially uncomfortable ones. 

"It will be alright. As long as you're by my side."

"Fuck." Mobius's voice doesn't crack. It doesn't, fuck you. "How do you always know the right thing to say." 

"I'm a God. Comes with the territory."

Mobius shoves Loki with his shoulder, his shadow of a smile growing wider. “God of humility.”

A half grin breaks across Loki’s face as he curls back around Mobius. “It’s a fitting domain, I must say.”

They lean against each other, conversation tapered into silence as they continue to brush against their lovers’ consciousnesses. Inklings of anxiety pop up occasionally, easily batted away by Loki’s plain belief in him. 

Mobius’s minimal confidence in this situation gets better with each passing moment. Loki has always been good at encouraging him, and as they press impossibly closer together, Mobius struggles to imagine how anyone could see them like this and not instantly fall in love with him

He nuzzles into Loki’s shoulder, trying to take as much affection as he can get in this moment before he gets guilty and returns to his work. Mobius indulges without a hint of shame until he hears Loki stifle a yawn. 

Mobius pulls back from him, looking up at his partner. In the hours since they last saw each other, Loki clearly neglected to get more rest. “Tired, Lokes?”

“Perhaps.” Loki gives a halfhearted side glare, still radiating love. They’ve had this same problem for years. “Whose fault could that be?” 

“Are you implying it’s mine?” Mobius puts a shocked hand over his heart. “So cruel to your beloved.” 

"Well," Loki begins with a twinkle in his eyes. "I do recall someone being exceptionally needy recently." 

Mobius scoffs. "Right, I've been the needy one." Loki hums in agreement, letting his head fall back against the wall and his eyes sliding shut.

"You should go home." Mobius suggests softly. "Get some sleep." 

Loki picks his head up and opens his eyes just enough to see Mobius. "You could come with me."

"I have work." Mobius reminds him not unkindly. 

"It's easier to sleep when you're there." Loki doesn't exactly wine, but it's pretty close. He lets his head fall back against the wall. 

"I'll be home in just a few hours. You'll barely even notice I'm gone." He promises.  Loki doesn't respond for a moment. Then, finally, with a sigh,

"Fine. But if anything happens-"

"I'll let you know." Mobius agrees. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss against Loki's forehead. "Go home, babe."

"I love you." The God responds, really out of it. 

"I love you too."

With that, Loki disappears. Mobius stays sitting for a moment before standing with a sigh. He better get back in there and give them an answer before they think he ran away or something.

He slips out of the stall, walking out of the bathroom with only a momentary pause to smooth down where Loki ruffled his hair. 

Even though there’s no sign of Loki on him, no new ones, at least Mobius can feel eyes on him as he walks back to the manager’s office. Is he going to have to do a walk of shame for the rest of his life?

He hears Devin’s voice from the quiet rumble of conversation that somehow managed to survive his appearance. He silently thanks the Gods that he’s far enough away to not have to acknowledge it. 

Crossing the threshold of the office seems to make those eyes fall from him. The other managers look up as he enters, but their eyes don’t feel predatory. 

Mobius sits in his chair and takes a breath before looking back at any of them. “When are we doing this?”

Ravonna isn’t pleased with his departure and return, but she doesn’t let that out just yet. Mobius is being cooperative for once; she can’t squander that. 

“As soon as possible.” The obvious answer. They’re steadily losing time on this story the longer they wait. 

“Tomorrow,” Mobius provides in place of specifics. 

“We’re doing this today,” Ravonna corrects. They should, they really need to, but like hell if Mobius is dragging Loki back out of bed. 

“He’s not gonna be available, and legal needs way more time.” Surely, it can’t be easy to draft whatever they need to get these charges dismissed, certainly not these charges. “We can plan it for mid-morning tomorrow, send out an announcement so people know it’s coming.”

Mobius knows better than to genuinely argue against Ravonna. This is the first time he’s ever genuinely put his foot down on anything, and even now, he’s using other departments as his defense. 

“Eight sharp.”

“At best, ten.”

Mobius’s half-amused smile wavers at the edges as he considers what will go into this. He leans back in his chair, running a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Mobius doesn’t intend for his voice to sound so genuine. Today’s been too much of a roller coaster for him to stay detached. “I got caught up in the idea of making our relationship public and forgot how carefully this needs to be handled, and as your friend, this was-“

“A dick move,” Sylvie finishes for him. 

“A total dick move.” Mobius agrees. He’s going to feel guilty for this part of the announcement sometime next week, but definitely not now.

Sylvie kicks his shin under the table, and the slightest smile grows on Mobius’s face. “I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive you for this.” She’s too smiley for it to be serious, but there’s still a momentary pang of panic. “How long have you been cheating on Lucas?”

Mobius snorts and kicks her back. "Very funny, Sylv." 

"Wait, that's actually a good question. I thought you loved Lucas." Casey sounds so genuinely upset that this can't be real. He turns to look at Casey, honestly hoping this is a joke. 

It's not. 

"Casey," Mobius says very softly, like a parent telling their child Santa Claus doesn't exist. "They are the same person." 

Casey blinks at him a few times. "Oh." 

"Now that that's... Clarified." Ravonna looks at Casey strangely, but even she won't upset him. "Some of the things, the many things,  you'll need to touch on is how long you've known eachother, how he convinced you to look past New York, how you two met-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna need help coming up with lies for most of those."

“You shouldn’t lie about this,” Ravonna says flatly. 

“I need to.” Mobius has never thought about launching himself out of a window as many times as he has today. “I should be on my way to prison right now.” Or a morgue.

“How bad can it possibly be?” Mobius has never thought of Bea as naïeve, but clearly, she’s forgotten who she’s dealing with. 

“Y’know, how I make bad choices?” There’s a second of blank silence that answers him. “Remember when I got mugged?”

He watches as the implication registers, specifically for Sylvie. “You whore!”

Mobius nods, mouth pressed into a thin line. He gives her time to enjoy it before continuing. “That was when we met. Loki kidnapped me on my way here.”

The humor melts from her face, as well as any shred of amusement in the others’. This is how it will be whenever he tells this story, isn’t it? 

“I was only conscious for a few seconds before I was hitting on him, and then..” Mobius trails with a gesture. Loki threatened to kill him two years ago, and now the world knows that they’re in love. 

“You can’t be serious.” Ravonna looks somewhere between horrified and exhausted. 

“I am.” Is there an option for time travel? Can he go back in time and suggest Loki just fuck him without all the crime shit. “There are so many details, and they only get worse.”

"Did you know who he was when you slept with him?" Devin questions disgust clear in his voice. 

"Yes, Devin." Mobius sighs. He can feel a headache coming on. "I did." 

"And you still fucked him?" The younger man is clearly angry, and yeah, Mobius can get why, but he'll be damned if he's scolded by Devin. "Despite everything he did? All the people he killed?" 

"First of all, that wasn't his fault." Mobius defends. 

"Bullshit." Devin spits, but Mobius keeps going. 

"Secondly, I have been studying Norse Mythology for decades. I am one of, if not the leading expert on it in the US. Is it really a surprise I would want to talk to one of the most interesting and prominent figures?" 

"You work with Thor every day!" Devin is standing at this point, so naturally, Mobius has to stand as well. 

"Believe it or not, different people will have different takes on events." 

"You don't care, do you?" They're practical nose-to-nose at this point. "About all of the people who lost their lives because of him?" 

"Boys!" Sylvie yells, trying to get their attention, but both ignore her. 

"You don't know anything." Mobius tells him.

"I know that, apparently, you're a terrorist whore!" 

Thank God Bea slides in between them because Mobius is about to punch him. 

"That's enough!" She says, firmly shoving them away from each other.

Ravonna and one of the sturdier-built interns drag Devin out. Bea doesn’t let go of Mobius’s shoulder until he’s out of sight. 

He knows she’s doing this out of love, but he still jerks his shoulder away from her. When was the last time he was this angry? High school? He could tear out Devin’s throat. 

“Anyone but him,” Mobius hears himself say. His voice is little more than a harsh, shaky breath. Every muscle in his body is tensed to keep him here instead of bolting down the hallway. “Anyone but him.”

Bea steps between him and the door, blocking his exit in case his restraint wavers. It’s still open. Did he not close it when he came back? Did the entire office hear this, or had Devin slipped into their managers’ office unnoticed? 

Uncertainty and a sea of other emotions only make Mobius angrier. How dare Devin talk about him this way?

“It’s not because he cares,” Mobius spits, eyes still on the space of hallway that Devin disappeared into. “We all fucking know he doesn’t care about anyone except himself.”

“Hey,” Bea tries to pull his attention off this. “He just wanted a rise out of you.”

“And he used the deaths of all those people to get it.” A few interns start to stir from the sea of desks just beyond the door. The scant few who might be able to hold him back don’t seem at all interested in keeping him off of Devin. 

“Loki wasn’t in control of himself,” Mobius says, clenching his fists at his sides. The way Loki had described it, he feels sick at the memory. The torture and fear, watching himself do those things unable to even scream, Mobius feels himself shake with still growing rage. “He’s spent the last two years trying to make amends for something he was forced to do, and he-”

Mobius’s fingernails dig into his palms hard enough to draw blood. His knuckles ache from how tightly his first are clenched. Mobius can’t fight Barton, or Odin, or Thanos, but by the Norns, he can fight Devin. 

He feels a pair of hands, probably Sylvie's, gently lead him to his desk. He sits down heavily, hands still shaking with a nearly uncontrollable rage.  He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly, trying to calm himself.

Ravonna comes back in a few minutes later. By that point, Mobius no longer sees red, but he's still clearly worked up. She takes one look at him and makes a decision. 

"Go home." 

Mobius's eyes snap open, and his head jerks up. "What? No. I can't. We need to figure this out." 

"And we will." She gestures to the other managers when she says 'we'. "You are too emotional at the moment."

"My emotions are fine. I can help." 

"Mobius," He always feels like shit when Sylvie speaks gently towards him. "You've had a really rough day. A lot has happened. Go home and get some rest. You need to be sharp for the live stream tomorrow." 

It takes a lot more convincing, but they eventually get Mobius out of the office. He walks home the long way, using the walk to clear his head. 

The second he gets inside, he drops his bag next to the door and makes a beeline for the bedroom, not bothering to take his shoes off or even loosen his tie.

Unsurprisingly, Loki is in bed. Mobius flops onto it and shifts around until his face is buried against Loki's neck. The God's arms come up to pull him closer, and his hands rest on Mobius's hips.

"You're home early." Loki notes sleepily. Mobius grunts in acknowledgment, not wanting to pull away from his lover.  "Did something happen? You're very stressed." 

Mobius tucks his face farther into Loki’s neck to avoid answering. He doesn’t want to think anymore. 

Loki makes small, soothing motions against Mobius’s back, waiting patiently for him. Even on bad days, he usually relaxes into the affection after a little while. They have all the time in the world. 

Mobius mumbles the word Intern against Loki’s skin a few minutes later. He’s never quite gotten this tense before, even with his dissertations. With what stories Mobius has brought home, Loki isn’t surprised that an intern did this. 

“Do you want to talk?” Loki asks gently, his hands moving up and down Mobius’s back, slow and soothing. He tries to replicate the voice he uses when Loki’s this upset, but he knows he can’t do it any justice. 

He doesn’t get a verbal response; it is just a tightening of Mobius’s arms around him. Loki reaches out to Mobius through their bond to give more comfort, only to feel a wall between them. 

He presses lightly, asking to be let in, and is rebuffed. The wall becomes even stronger, and for a moment, Loki can’t feel Mobius’s consciousness at all. It’s an off-putting feeling, even with Mobius in his arms. He’s never been able to not feel him, no matter how far apart they are. 

Loki’s sure Mobius can feel his worry as he brushes against him again, sharing comfort without pushing. 

He keeps his walls up, the first time ever he’s done so. Loki won’t ask him to take them down, not when he’s this worked up about something. Mobius is shielding for a reason, one he’ll share on his own time. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. 

Slowly, a part of Mobius reaches out to him through the barrier. Loki reaches for it instantly and feels his breath hitch when it registers. 

There’s anger, anger like Loki has never seen on Mobius before, and a desperate need to keep it reigned in. The battle between the two, seething fury and forced calm, nearly drowns out the feeling he’s trying to share.

Loki presses into it, averting himself from the fiery rage around him to feel Mobius’s Want. For comfort, for safety, for Loki.

One of Loki's hands moves to the back of his lover's neck, nimble fingers massaging the tense muscles, sending little spikes of magic through him to help relax them. 

Once Loki feels that the muscles in Mobius's neck are at ease, he slides his hand lower, restarting the process with another set. He continues the pattern down Mobius's body as far as he can reach without changing their positions before moving back up. 

By the time he's done, Mobius is pliant against his chest, and his mind, while not fully at ease, is certainly much calmer than when he came home. The combination of magic, mental reassurances, and gentle pressure from his fingers calms Mobius. 

"When this is all over, I'm going to take you out. Get dinner, maybe walk through a park." Mobius says softly, head still pressed against Loki's neck, but head tilted so that his mouth is free. 

"That sounds lovely." Loki agrees. He's not sure where this newfound desire of Mobius comes from, but he'll go along with it. Anything to make his Midgardian happy.

"I just-" Mobius cuts himself off with a sigh. "Soon, everyone is going to know how much I love you. And I can't wait. We're going to be able to go out; I can hold your hand and not worry that you're going to get caught and taken from me. Yeah, there'll be assholes who won't leave us alone, but I just," Mobius trails off. "I'm sure I sound ridiculous."

“Not ridiculous,” Loki corrects softly. Mobius doesn’t sound entirely self-deprecating, but he doesn’t want that negativity here, not right now. “It’s sweet, sentimental.”

They have gone out before, always carefully planned and with a heavy disguise. Mobius could see Loki as he was, no matter where they were, but as the thought settles in, something in Loki’s chest thrums to life. 

Other people could see them together. 

He has no doubts that he can protect Mobius from those who would do them harm; that worry is simply brushed past in this moment. In the streets of Paris or Milan or Queens, people will look at them and know who they are, and they won’t be in danger

Part of Loki hums with pride at the thought of Mobius being his in the public eye, but more than that, he knows how freeing this is. 

As a youth, he would visit marketplaces near the palace under complex disguises and see how the people lived. It felt unreal to walk among them, to be treated like one of the commoners instead of being gazed upon as their prince. 

Visiting Midgard had been the same, once. He hadn’t even needed a disguise for them to think he was just another village boy. There were no expectations for once, just the welcome of kind, common people. 

Soon, they will both have that. People will know he’s a prince and a God, but there will be no expectation of violence. They will be free to go where they wish and do as they please. 

Mobius has spoken about the places he’s visited, some of which they have returned to. Loki can’t help how his heart flutters at the memories of his beloved’s bright smile and excited stories. They could go there, arm in arm. 

Loki could meet Mobius’s family.

Mobius doesn't talk about them very often, but when he does, Loki can always hear his love for them in his voice. His father seems much different from Odin. When he comes up, Mobius always talks about how supportive he is. 

His father was the first person Mobius 'came out to' (Loki still doesn't understand why such a thing is necessary). The man hugged his son and told him that he was proud of him. Mobius's siblings and mother were just as supportive, but it's clear that Mobius was always closer to his father. 

Loki desperately wishes to introduce his love to his mother. He knows that Frigga would absolutely adore Mobius. While that is most certainly not a possibility, at least not right now, he hopes it will happen in the future.

"I'm excited as well." Loki admits, pressing a kiss against the top of Mobius's head. 

"We just have to get through the live stream tomorrow." Mobius pulls Loki out of his thoughts with that comment. 

"Tomorrow?" He questions. Loki figured this would happen soon, but not that soon.

"Mmmhmm. Ten AM." Mobius tells him, and Loki's heart flutters. Tomorrow. 

"We should go out tomorrow evening then to celebrate. No illusion, no fear, just you and me." Loki suggests. 

"I..." Mobius trails off. "I think we should wait a few days. Give people a chance to... To come to terms with everything. But after that, absolutely. I like it, no hiding, just you and me."

"No fear." Loki says softly, taking Mobius's hand and entangling their fingers together. 

"No fear." Mobius whispers back.

Chapter Text

They lie there for a long while, their hands intertwined. Slowly, Mobius drifts down to rest against Loki’s chest, reverent fingers trailing over his scar. 

No fear.

They won’t have to hide anymore. If something terrible happens, they have people they can turn to. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels almost too good to be true. 

The bubble has popped, in a way. The cat’s out of the bag. It feels like there’s a weight off his chest. There was no discomfort in keeping their relationship secret, but having it out there is…nice. He has no desire to leave their bed any time soon, but someday, he’ll actually shout his love from the rooftops. 

Mobius looks up at Loki, still tracing the line of cold with the lightest of touches. The God, how that still awes Mobius, his God, smiles down at him with nothing but love in his eyes. 

He isn’t rested, but he’s managing to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time. Loki is always so open with him. This warmth, this love, will be on display for the world to see in a matter of hours.

Loki doesn't let Mobius out of their bed for the rest of the evening, using his magic to take care of their needs. Even when Mobius tries to get up so he can change, whining when Loki holds him tightly to his chest that he has to take his suit off, Loki simply waves his hand and his lover is in pajamas. 

Mobius gets to sleep in a bit the next day, seeing as he doesn't have to be in until 9 rather than 7. He wakes Loki up with soft kisses that somehow turns into giving him a blow job. Loki eagerly tries to return the favor, but Mobius waves him off with a kiss and a 'maybe later'. 

They show up at the tower at 9, Loki transporting them right into Mobius's office.  Most people jump at the sudden appearance and don't relax when they see who it is. 

Loki looks every bit the God and Prince that he is. He's in his 'fine Asguardian leather' armor, horn helmet included. The only visual difference between how he looks now and two years ago is his hair. It's longer and he lets it hang loosely around his neck instead of having it slicked back.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Sylvie teases, coming over to the pair. She pulls Mobius into a hug before turning to Loki. "Lucas, nice to see you again." Her eyes twinkle with teasing. 

"Sylvia." Loki nods. Mobius can tell he's messing with her. She scowks, way too dramatically for it to be real. 

"It's Sylvie, and you know it, you heathen."

“I don’t believe I do.” Loki has his proper, regal persona on, formality in full swing. 

Sylvie’s expression gets darker. “I know where you live.”

“Is that a threat?” A genuine smile tugging at Loki’s lips, just beneath his sneer. “You dare threaten me?”

“Do you feel threatened?” 

Bea slips in between them, clapping Sylvie on the shoulder. The second their eye contact is interrupted, Loki reverts back to neutral. 

“Hey!” Bea looks at Mobius, and he knows what she’s trying to say. They’ve been here less than a minute, but he can’t let his partner go on a murderous rampage just yet. 

“Hey, Bea,” Mobius smiles and hopes that things will be a little better. It won’t, but he might get points for trying. “Uh, I’d like you to meet my partner.”

As he gestures to Loki, he sees excitement clear in the God’s eyes. He bows his head slightly in deference. “I’ve heard many things.”

“Yeah, me too.” She is certainly less thrilled by his presence than he is of hers, but it’s not entirely flat. Maybe if she had gotten to meet Lucas before having to set up a stream for Loki, this would be different. 

Bea lingers on Loki briefly before looking to Mobius as if expecting him to key into whatever she sees. 

“Are we sure about the fit?” 

Mobius groans internally. Loki tilts his head to the side, looking down at his hand tailored, bespoke armor. “I assure you, my clothing is properly sized.” 

Bea takes a second to let that one sink in before continuing. She recovers faster than Mobius can, even with years of experience. “We’re trying to give you a new image, including a new silhouette.”

Her eyes flick down, then up to the glimmering, gold horns on Loki’s head. Mobius, who knows better than to get involved in fashion debates with his partner, mouths ‘Good Luck.’ No matter how many times he tells Loki size doesn’t matter, he keeps the horns just as they are

“It’s all pretty similar to before,” Bea puts, far gentler than she needs. Loki can and probably needs to take some bullying on this one. “What with the leather and the helmet…”

“This is traditional Asgardian royal attire.”

"It just seems a little... battle-ready. And we want to convince people that you're not about to try and take over the world again."  Bea is braver than Mobius. He's not going to argue with Loki and try to convince him to change. Not because Loki's going to do anything, just because, yeah, good luck.

"Isn't that what this interview is supposed to do?" 

"It is." She agrees, like she's talking to a child. " And you being in anything other than armor will make it easier." 

Loki looks at Mobius, clearly asking for his input. The man shrugs. "She's not wrong."

Loki frowns slightly. "What would you suggest?" 

"We could,"- Bea starts, but Mobius cuts her off, which he will pay for later.

"Your suit would work." Mobius suggests casually.

"Oh." Loki smiles flirtatiously. "Do you mean the one that-"

"Yes." Mobius is trying very hard not to blush, knowing fully well that his co-workers never need to hear that story. Ever.

"Very well." Loki is too proud of himself—the bastard. A wave of green rolls down Loki's form, and gone are the leather and the helmet. In their place is an impeccably tailored black suit that perfectly hugs every inch of Loki's body. 

"Is this acceptable?" He asks Bea, holding his arms out and spinning in a circle. 

"It'll do." 

"Damn!" Sylvie says. "I wish I could do that. It would make getting ready for work so much easier.

"Does it have your approval?" Loki's voice promises things Mobius can't think of right now, not at work. 

"Of course." Mobius reaches out and runs his hands over the left lapel, pretending to straighten it. Loki steps closer, and they're almost touching. Mobius swallows heavily. Loki is always one of his weaknesses, but Loki in this suit? Today will be very hard. 

"Get a room, you two!" Sylvie hassles them.

“Don’t say that, he will take me home.” Mobius looks at Sylvie because if he lets himself look at his partner, they will not end up doing the stream. 

Loki raises an eyebrow, his hand coming up to cup Mobius’s waist. If they start at ten, surely they can step out for a moment or two. The suit always seems to speed things up. 

Mobius lets out a little uncomfortable laugh, patting Loki’s chest as he steps back.

‘Do you want to meet Ravonna like this?’

The thought stops Loki dead in his tracks. He snaps back to his full height, posture perfect and a little too stiff. His sultry eyes and leering expression are gone, replaced with a look of prim and proper princeliness. 

“Yes,” Loki exhales just a little harder than usual. Mobius has instilled the fear of Ravonna into him. “Where is Lady Renslayer?”

There’s a second of confusion before Sylvie gestures over her shoulder. “Uh, wrangling interns.”

Her eyes flick to Mobius and No. He recognizes that look. That’s the Devin look. 

Mobius has to take a slow, deep breath. He counts to ten. He’s not going to commit any felonies today. “If any of them so much as look at me, I will call The Hague.”

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Sylvie rolls her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Have you met me?" Mobius acts like he's offended, but it's very clear that he's not. 

"Yes. Unfortunatley." Bea says, completely monotone. 

"Wooooooooow. I can see when I'm not wanted. Or loved." Mobius feels so grateful that they're not treating him any differently. They're not acting like he's a completely different person now that they know about his relationship with Loki. "Anywho, I suppose I should properly introduce you to everyone." 

Mobius points to Sylvie. "You know her. Sylvie takes care of good old Cap'in 'Merrica's twitter." He mockingly salutes, and Sylvie flicks him off. He, like the very mature and responsible adult that he is, sticks his tongue out at her. 

"This is Bea." He gestures to the woman in question. "She runs both Nat's and Barton's Twitters, but not that she really does much." She rolls her eyes but refuses to stoop to his level. Fucking coward.

"And Casey..." Mobius trails off as he looks around the office. Frowning and looking at Sylvie. "Where is Casey?"

"He's helping finish setting up. I think he's nervous." 

"Why would he be nervous?" Loki asks as if he doesn't already know that the answer is him.

"He's afraid that he's going to slip up and call you Lucas to your face instead of Loki. He doesn't want to make you sad." Bea explains, much like a fond parent who knows that their child is being ridiculous, but they aren't going to correct them, and neither are you.

Loki’s hand rises from his side to press against his lower abdomen almost subconsciously. “He could never.”

Mobius squeezes Loki’s shoulder comfortingly. He keeps a light hold of him to prevent him from trying to find Casey and reassure him himself. For a moment, the context doesn’t matter. Loki wants Mobius’s friends to like him. “He just wants to make a good impression.”

“I don’t want to make him afraid,” Loki says, on the edge of nervousness himself. Has he forgotten that he’s one of the most imposing figures in the city again? Almost certainly. 

Mobius has done enough to make incredible impressions for all his coworkers, save Sylvie, who has only purposefully worsened Loki’s opinion of her. Casey has always been his favorite. Casey has always been everyone’s favorite. 

“He’ll find us in his own time,” Mobius assures gently. Casey can’t resist new people, no matter how scary they seem. 

Mobius knows he should probably go help, tell Ravonna they’re here, or at least find out if the team came up with a cover story, but he’s stuck in this spot. He can’t step away from his Loki. 

“For now,” Mobius continues to hold Loki as he gestures between them. “Continuing with introductions, Bea, Sylvie, this is Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief, and most importantly, my partner.”

"Is that really the most important part of what you just said?" Sylvie teases. 

"Yes." Loki says softly, smiling down at Mobius, love clearly readable in his expression. "It most certainly is." 

"Disgusting." Sylvie is smiling, though; she's happy for them. She really is. 

"Why are you all just standing around in here? There's work to get done." A new voice comes from behind Mobius and Loki. They turn around, and Mobius smiles. 

"Hey 'vonna. This is-" 

"Loki, yes, I heard." She cuts him off. "We've got a lot to get done in the next forty minutes," she looks down at her watch.

"I was just introducing him to everyone. And now that you're here, I can do you next!" He says way too cheerfully. 

With a roll of her eyes, she steps into the office, no longer standing literally in the doorway. "Ravonna Renslayer, I run the official Avengers account, and I'm Mobius's boss." she says pointedly, giving Mobius a look. 

Loki can't tell exactly what the look means. He looks to Mobius, worried. He shouldn't be, and his lover let's him know that with a wink. 

"Nice to meet you, Lady Renslayer." Loki bows his head slightly. 

"Hmmm. Charming."

Loki, again, looks to Mobius for his opinion. His beloved boyfriend smiles up at him. “That means she’s not gonna kill you yet.”

“Thank you.” Loki’s voice holds a kind of certainty his mind does not. He’ll get used to having his life casually threatened one of these days. 

Mobius holds in his grin as Ravonna falters for a split second. There’s a weird warmth to the whole thing. Mobius knows he shouldn’t be this happy about his coworkers not despising him and his partner, but it’s nice. He’s not going to argue with their acceptance. 

With a half smile, Mobius interlaces his fingers and cracks his knuckles. “Where do you want us?”

Ravonna’s back to work in a second, momentary lapse all but forgotten. “Bea, you’re on tech. One of the Hunters said there was a monitor issue.”

Bea rolls her shoulders, ready for battle with faulty equipment or one of their seven interns named Hunter. 

“Sylvie.” Ravonna doesn’t need to give instructions. They all know what Sylvie has to do. 

The women share a quick, half-second nod and then disperse. Ravonna, almost exhausted by the mere sight of them, turns to look at the men of the hour. 

“You two,” She sighs, motioning to Mobius’s neglected desk. “Get your story straight.”

She doesn’t linger in the doorway long enough for Mobius to make a joke. Rude, but fair. He’s been making bad gay jokes for years. 

Loki raises an eyebrow, his posture relaxing as their audience with Ravonna ends. “Story?”

“Yeah, babe.” Mobius steps toward his desk, which, thankfully, Loki follows. “We didn’t have a Hallmark meet cute, but we’re not letting that go public and alter how you’re viewed.”

“‘Meet cute’,” Loki wrinkles his nose in undisguised disgust.“Was our meeting not acceptable?”

Mobius almost feels guilty about going Work Mode, but he can be reassuring when they’re not on a time crunch. “You kidnapped me.”

“Is that not cute?”

"While obviously I don't mind." Mobius sits in his chair before realizing that maybe he should have offered it to Loki first. The God doesn't seem to mind, instead  half sitting half leaning against Mobius's desk, right ankle crossing over his left. "It certainly won't help us convince people you're not a threat."

"So we must lie about how we met?" Loki doesn't seem thrilled, but they can't do much else. "I thought the point of this was that we no longer would have to lie." 

Mobius can see where he's coming from. After all, there have been worse starts to relationships. Mobius can't really think of any now, but he's sure they exist. Even if they make something up, there will always be people who think Loki's forcing Mobius into this relationship. It's unfortunate, but Mobius knows it's true. 

He sighs running a hand through his hair before trying to smooth it back down. He has to look 'presentable' after all. 

"If you don't want to make something up, we don't have to." He offers Loki. "But it will make things harder." 

"It's our story." Loki says softly. "I don't want to hide any part of it." 

God, this man is so sweet. How could anyone not like him? Mobius reaches out and places a hand on top of one of his. 

"Well," The human says, trying to shift the mood. "Maybe some parts." He teases weakly.

“No, we have nothing to hide.” Loki turns his hand, taking Mobius’s in his own. There’s a current of flirtation to his sincerity rather than the other way around. “I’m willing to share anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mobius feels himself flush slightly, lightly squeezing Loki’s hand. He definitely has limits, but oh fuck, there are things to think about there. 

“Not today,” Mobius manages to say, somehow. They can talk about how much sex stuff the public gets to know on a less severe day. “The goal is to make people like you, not…”

“Desire me?” 

Loki smirks. He touches the top button of his suit jacket. His voice is low and promising, and Mobius is going to fucking die. 

“No,” Mobius disguises his breathlessness as amusement instead of thoughts deeply inappropriate for an office setting. “This is about you, Lokes. We don’t want them desiring me.”

"Anyone who doesn't already do so is a fool," Loki says firmly. Fuck. Mobius can't not kiss this man, it's just not possible. 

He leans in, and Loki leans down to meet him, but just before their lips touch, something wet splatters against Mobius's face. He jerks back, landing in his chair, which rolls away from his desk slightly before Loki shoots a hand out and grabs it.

"Knock it off." Sylvie has a small bottle in her hands, one that she clearly just sprayed the contents of which onto Mobius. 

"What the fuck Sylvie?" Mobius wipes the side of his face, clearly disgruntled. 

"No fucking in the office!" She scolds as she places the bottle on the side of one of the whiteboards in the office.

"We weren't going to!" 

"You've told me way too many stories, against my will, might I add. I know that you two are like bunny rabbits. Now get your asses over to the set, we need you there to finish setting up." 

“This is homophobic.”

Sylvie fixes the little bi flag at her desk. “Very.”

They file out of the room with only a sigh from Mobius. There’s no point in being catty when they have a deadline, bitching will have to wait until after they’re done. 

Loki remains quiet on the way through the office. The stream is being done in one of the few windowless rooms on this floor to minimize glare and potential danger. Still, it means their trek from the mostly windows managers’ office to the set is rather long. 

It serves as a little tour, at least. Most of the interns’ desks are empty, they usually populated parts of the office almost hauntingly vacant, but he doesn’t know the difference. All Loki has seen is a bathroom, boardroom, and the roof. 

Sylvie leads them into the room, her and Mobius’s conversation having turned almost on its heel to technical jargon. Other than Mobius’s hand resting on the small of Loki’s back, it’s as if his presence has been forgotten until they must carefully navigate through a sea of cables. 

The haste of their setup is clear only on the floor. Dozens of people are operating monitors on one side of the room, with Bea seemingly at their helm as she helps multiple people calibrate their screens at once. She weaves through their tables and cords with ease, not having to look down once. 

From her corner, they branch out in thick black tendrils to every wall in the room, machines hooked into every socket available. They have to move carefully, stepping only on the carpet so as not to catastrophically fuck something up. 

When they reach the other side of the wire river, Sylvie presents the streaming set with a flourish. 

It’s almost elegant in its simplicity: two armchairs angled towards the cameras, with a small table between them. Boring minimalist wall art behind them and a small framed picture of the Tower on the table, along with two glasses, make it plain, efficient, and effective. 

It’s boring as hell.

Mobius knows set design isn’t the important thing here, but eugh. He’ll live, though. They can survive ugly chairs. 

He nudges Loki toward the set. “Make yourself comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Loki smiles as their shoulders brush, letting Mobius slink off into the madness of microphones and adjusted lighting. Mobius manages to get almost halfway across the room before one of the interns gasps. 

He freezes in place. Surely, nothing bad happened. Surely, his beloved partner didn’t do something incredibly stupid and possibly dangerous. 

As Mobius turns, he sees the meticulously crafted set replaced with a leather couch. 

The piece is, frankly, beautiful, if a bit gaudy. The upholstery is gorgeous, the deep color complementing the bright, metallic glimmer of the golden filigree work across its back and arms. Beside it, there are two matching ornate end tables with goblets resting on their crystal tops. This doesn’t fit the space aesthetically, and while it’s a sight to behold, it doesn’t fit Loki. Maybe the Prince Loki, or the God, but not This Loki, not his. 

“Dude.”

“Hm?” Loki looks up at Mobius, seemingly unfazed by his lover’s obvious concern. 

‘They were apart. I want to be near you.’

‘Me too.’ Mobius admits, far warmer than he should be. It was barely half a foot, but that distance seemed like miles. 

“Leather? Really?”

Loki shares a wave of affection as his neutral expression sours. “This is fine Asgardian leather.”

Mobius sucks his teeth, tisking softly. “We’re not on Asgard, though, are we?”

Loki doesn’t look away as the furniture changes to a deep green velvet loveseat. A soft-looking black throw blanket artfully draped across the back is accompanied by small tables at the sides with simple, solid-colored mugs. 

It’s soft and comfortable, and Mobius can imagine curling up there with a good book and a cuddly boy. “Better.”

Mobius finishes the rest of the short trip to get his mic on. Ravonna is the one who gets it on him. 

"Is he ready for this?" She asks, clipping it on his tie, artfully tucking the wires to hide them from view. 

"He is." Mobius confirms. Something, or rather someone, catches his eye, and he tenses up when he sees who it is. He can feel Loki's attention fully snap to him, but Mobius ignores him momentarily. 

"What is he doing here?" Mobius clenches his jaw, jerking his head toward Devin, who is sitting at a small table off to the side, computer infront of him. 

"He apologized and asked to help."  Ravonna doesn't even need to turn to see who he's talking about. "We have him screening questions." 

"If he says anything towards Loki-" 

"He won't. Honestly, I think he's scared. Of both of you." Ravonna almost sounds proud. 

"As he should be." Mobius definitely sounds proud. 

"Fifteen minute warning everyone. Fifteen minutes." Bea calls out and gets a number of 'thank you fifteen's in response. 

Once his mic is all set, he goes to get Loki and send him over for his. "Head over to Ravonna, she'll get you set. I have to go check something quickly before we start, I'll be right back." Mobius promises. 

As soon as Loki makes his way to Ravonna, Mobius grabs his mug and rushes back to the manger office, dumping the water in it into a plant on the way. 

He makes a b-line for his desk and yanks the bottom right drawer open. Inside is an array of energy drinks. He grabs the first one he sees and cracks it open, dumping it all in the mug before dropping the empty can back in the drawer. He'll take care of it later. 

Loki's done getting his mic on before Mobius gets back. He's sitting on the edge of the loveseat, idly playing with the sleeves of his jacket. The human smiles and drops a kiss against his lovers temple. Loki hums happily and leans against the touch.

"I have something for you." The God says softly as Mobius sits on the sofa next to him, placing his mug on the side table. 

"You do?" Mobius is genuinely surprised. 

Loki smiles and holds out his right hand. His palm is empty for a moment before green dances across it and suddenly he's holding two dark green, almost black, leather bracelets. 

"Loki." Mobius pick one up and admires it. "They're beautiful." He runs his fingers over the smooth leather. He feels something carved into it and takes a look. It's writing, something in Asguardian, Mobius is certain, but nothing he knows how to read. "What does it say?"

"No fear." Loki says softly and Mobius looks up from the bracelet to his lovers face. He's expression is so open and vulnerable, filled with love that it makes Mobius's heart clench. 

"No fear." Mobius repeats. 

"May I?" Loki asks, gesturing towards Mobius. The human nods and hands the bracelet back to him. Loki unsnaps the golden buttons and gently wraps it around Mobius's right wrist and closes it. He gently pulls his lovers hand up to his face and kisses the skin right above and below where the leather sits. 

Mobius puts the other one on Loki's left wrist. Instead of kissing Loki's wrist, he gently kisses his partners lips. 

"I love you." He murmurs against Loki's lips.

"And I you."

Their next few minutes feel both like seconds and centuries. 

Mobius intertwines his hand with Loki’s, fidgeting idly with his fingers. The waiting is torture, but his anxiety spikes every time Ravonna calls the time. 

This is so much easier on the other side of the cameras. Still terrifying, yes, but easier. Mobius tries to tell himself it’s just like a presentation, but instead of presenting a concept for work or some part of his thesis, he’s trying to convince the world not to hate his partner. No sweat!

Loki rubs his thumb against the back of Mobius’s hand, little pulses of magic helping relax him whenever he starts to tense. They both share comfort and calm, soothing each other’s worries as they rise up. 

The visuals team swarms around the set, never quite stepping onto it. Mobius can’t help leaning in closer to Loki as he wonders if this is what it feels like to be in a zoo. Loki’s promise that it gets easier once they get used to it does not help. 

A man, obviously from a different department if his hideous suit is anything to go off of, comes in through a side door and says something to an intern, who then points him over to Ravonna. 

For a few moments, everything slows as she chews out BadSuit for, from what Mobius can make out, taking three hours to bring her the documents legal was supposed to get her by end of day yesterday. 

BadSuit apologizes and scampers off with his tail between his legs, and everything snaps back to normal as if Ravonna doesn’t notice every time that happens. 

She parts the VisTeam sea to hand Mobius the papers. There’s points to make and questions that are outlined in legalese too dense for him to understand, much less the public or Loki, who only speaks this language through some sort of bizarre magic. It is absolutely useless. 

Anxiety slams down on Mobius hard as he realizes they’re essentially flying blind here. No lawyer training wheels, no articulate support system, just him and Loki justifying his freedom to the entire internet. 

The last few minutes they have are spent trying to reign in a panic attack. Mobius squeezes Loki’s hand bordering on too hard as he settles, apologizing and then apologizing for apologizing as Loki assures him it’s alright. 

They share a last, quick kiss as the final countdown begins.

Ravonna speaks over the countdl from thirty seconds. "Remember, Mobius, introduce yourself first, then what we're doing here, and then you can introduce Loki." 

"Got it." Mobius nods, his anxiety ticking higher and higher and the count gets lower, unable to fully be calmed by Loki. 

"And Mobius." She pauses for a second, which doesn't help the anxiety. "Don't fuck this up." 

"Yeah, thanks 'vonna." He squeezes Loki's hand in a death grip. 

"Thee, two, one."

The stream goes live and Mobius.... Freezes. His anxiety hits an all time high and be feels himself beginning to crash into a panic attack. It's only been seconds since the stream started and it feels like it's been years. He can't do this. He feels like he's going to die. Why did he agre-

Loki squeezes his hand, almost enough to break something, and his mind surrounding Mobius's smothering him in gentle reassurances. 

'No fear'. Loki says firmly in his mind. Mobius focuses on the love he can feel radiating from those words and the gently weight of the bracelet on his wrist that echo the sentiment. 

It's only been a few seconds, maybe five when Mobius opens his mouth to speak. 

"Hello everyone. My name is Mobius M. Mobius and I am Thor's social media manager. Many of you have probably seen a photo featuring me and another person that's been making it's way around online. Today were here to properly introduce you to that person and answer any questions that you might have. 

I know there's a lot of feelings surrounding my partner, most if not all being negative, but I ask that you give him a chance, and listen with an open mind. 

Without further ado, the second prince of Asguard, God of Mischief, and, in my humble opinion, most importantly, my partner. Loki."

Mobius looks from the camera to Loki, breath catching in his throat. In a split second, he’s gone from the domesticated scamp Mobius fell in love with, to the regal prince he’s only heard of in stories. 

Even without the horns, there’s something about him that seems to take the same weight. It’s probably some part of growing up royal that no amount of slumming it with the mortals can force out. Mobius files away how hot he finds this for another day. 

“Hello,” Loki’s voice is heavy and formal, betraying none of his emotions in the slightest. “Assembled masses of Midgard, I am Loki.”

Loki makes a motion against Mobius’s hand with his thumb and gets squeezed back. The proper form ends with him naming himself the son of someone, and they both know how complicated that particular topic is. 

“It seems as though I should introduce you as well,” Loki says, looking to Mobius instead of the camera. He’s asking, looking for pointers. Mobius has no pointers to give. 

“I’ve- I’ve already been introduced.” Mobius stamps down all of his feelings on the matter. Chivalry is dead and this stream very much is not. “This is about you.”

“And I would be remiss if I did not give a proper introduction to the man I am courting.” Loki has such a plain honesty to him, as if this is one of the little pieces of etiquette he learned centuries ago. 

Mobius gives a weak nod of approval, and a smile like the sun breaks out on Loki’s face. It’s still reigned in, even Asgardian royalty can’t express emotion in public, but it warms Mobius instantly. 

Loki’s hand covers their clasped ones, delicate and almost protective. “It is my honor to announce my beloved, Doctor Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Not a medical doctor,” Mobius adds in with a quick, placating gesture to the camera. 

“I trust you with my life none the less.”

Mobius smiles, and he can tell that the love he feels for Loki is more than clear on his face. He opens his mouth to respond, something nauseatingly sweet and sapy, when he hears someone clear their throat. He looks away from Loki, looking over to where the sound came from and he sees Ravonna with a frown on her face, arms crossed and a single raised eyebrow.

"I'm getting the signal that we should probably move on from the introductions before Ravonna kills us." Mobius jokes, looking back at the camera. "She is, by far, the most dangerous out of anyone here." 

Ravonna sighs loudly. This is off to a great start.

"So like I said earlier, we will be answering some of your questions. But before we do, there are, naturally, a few things need to be adressed first."

"Such as my actions two years ago." Loki speaks. Regret his heavy in his voice and Mobius can feel the guilt through the conection they share. 

"Loki," Mobius squeezes his hand. "You don't have too-" 

"I do." Loki looks over at him and Mobius looks back. He can see the determination in his lovers eyes. Mobius sends him a wave of support. Taking a deep breath Loki looks back over to the camera.

"My actions durring what has been dubed 'The Battle of New York' hurt a lot of people. There is no ammount of remorse that I can express that can undo what has been done. None the less, I am truly sorry. I know that not everyone will be able to forgive me, nor do I expect most too, but that does not chance the fact that I am deeply and truly sorry." Loki could go on for ever about how bad he feels, but it won't change anything. Those who will listen with an open mind will do so, and those who won't, won't.

Mobius squeezes his hand. The depreciating spiral is tempting, and Loki has fallen down that rabbit hole before, but he has to try to avoid it. They don’t want to know he hates himself, the people want answers. 

Loki takes another steadying breath. “The events of two years ago affected your people as a whole, and countless individuals lost their lives. I will not, can not pretend that my words will fix the damage I have done, or bring back the people you have lost.”

“I recognize that what I have to say will sound false, but it is nothing but truth. There are no excuses for my actions, and I will carry their weight with me as I have since I regained control of my self.”

There’s a shuffle in the room, various members of the staff shifting to watch closer, confirm that Loki is saying what they think he’s saying. Neither he or Mobius seem to notice as he continues on. 

“The Avengers have been informed of what caused these events, and I have every intention of helping them prevent this from happening again. I-“ Loki swallows thickly.

“My actions were not my own. I claim them now, but two years ago I was not acting on my own accord. The thrall that forced my hand broke at the end of the ‘Battle’, but by then what was done had been done.” 

“I tell you this not for pity, but for honesty. I had no choice, but I take responsibility for what I did. The man who orchestrated these attacks will one day be held accountable, but until then…” 

Loki takes a shuddery breath. He’s long since lost the brave face he had at the beginning. His eyes aren’t pleading, he will not beg for forgiveness that he doesn’t deserve, but they’re wide and expressive, so plainly hurt that one could believe he’s on the verge of tears. 

“If there was a way to bring closure to the families and loved ones of those lost, I would, in a heartbeat. All I can offer is apology and remorse.”

Mobius can't help himself. His partner is sitting next to him, hurting, and sure, he can comfort him mentally all he want's, but sometimes that's not as good as physical comfort. He brings Loki's hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss against the back of it. Loki looks over at him, offering up a small, sad smile to show that he appreciates the gesture. 

"I'm sure some of you are wondering how I come into this." Mobius is still looking at Loki as he speaks, turning his head towards the camera as he starts his next sentence. "Shortly after the world was introduced to the Avengers as a team, I made a slightly funny tweet that ended with Tony Stark in my DM's offering me a job."

"I took it, obviously. I mean a job using my super nitch degree, I have a doctorate in Viking and Midevil Norse studies, that's why he called me 'doctor' earlier, but that's not the point. I became Thor's Social Media manager and a few months later, I got kidnapped on my way into work." Mobius says with a shrug. 

"Loki was trying to get Thor's attention and I was kidnapped for all of three seconds before Loki let me go. I decided, of my own free will, to spend the week with him. And I've stayed by his side ever since. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."  Mobius wants to kiss the back of Loki's hand again but holds back from doing so. 

"Nor I." Loki agrees softly. 

"And, before any of you ask, yes, I am certain that I am not being controlled in any way. I am not brainwashed, I am not being threatened, and I am not suffering from Stockholm syndrome." He's annoyed that he has to say any of that, yet at the same time knows it's absolutely crucial for him to do so.

“I would never,” Loki says it more to himself than to Mobius, and then repeats it to the camera. “I would never. Magic is a powerful force and I have only ever used mine to help and protect the people around me.”

The mere thought of taking Mobius’s free will struck an already exposed nerve. The God looks down at his mortal lover, heart heavy at the implication that he may have twisted this man into loving him. 

Mobius offers a small, reassuring smile, sharing his trust in his partner. They linger for a moment, letting the feeling settle in, before Loki lightly nudges Mobius’s shoulder with his own. 

On his signal, Mobius looks to the camera with a brighter smile. “With all that being said,” He makes eye contact with Bea across the room and gives the slightest nod, “I think we’re about ready to open the floor to questions.”

“Try to keep them-“ Mobius’s cheerful voice cuts out mid sentence as the first question of the stream pops up on the monitor. 

Wdym three seconds??

Oh fuck. He forgot that the questions could also be directed at him. Mobius clears his throat awkwardly as more questions fill the screen. “Heh, sorry about that! Those’re coming in fast. Just try to stay within the guidelines, folks. They should be pinned at the top of the chat.”

Mobius scans over the screen, trying to quickly come up with an order to answer the questions in that makes sense and doesn’t involve him. 

He feels a gentle touch to his thigh and presses into it instinctively, looking up to see that soft, mischievous smile on Loki’s face. “Darling, I believe that one’s for you.”

Fucking Bastard.

Mobius pretends he has to follow Loki’s gesture to the top of the display, as if he’s not painfully aware of the question already. He would say that he’s going to make Loki regret this, but they both know he can’t. 

“Aha, yeah, that is for me, isn’t it? ‘What do you mean three seconds?’ Good question.” Mobius is going to kill Loki when they get home. “Y’know, studying mythology, and any kind of history based specialty, really, you find that there aren’t a lot of reliable records. That’s part of why I took this job, getting to actually speak to a genuine God who could share a first person account of all sorts of myths and legends.”

“Speaking to Thor about those events and hearing him tell those stories from his perspective was an honor and a privilege. So, when I found myself with a person who could give yet another angle to such well known myths, I set aside how I wound up there to sort of interrogate him.”

That’s not a total lie, right? He had intended to talk about myths, Loki was the one who got them off topic. 

“Do you recall which myths, Mobius?” Loki asks sweetly. It’s a poor attempt to rattle him, but one that will be taken anyway. “I‘m afraid I don’t remember those conversations.”

“Skaði, mostly,” Mobius says simply. He means the divorce and Loki’s hand in it, but they’ve interacted in other myths. None quite as interesting, but still. “You must’ve gotten distracted.”

"I must have." Loki agrees, mischief dancing in his eyes. 

"Okay!" Mobius says loudly, perhaps louder than really necessary. "Let's move on to the next question." 

He looks towards the screen, trying to choose the next question, but the chat is going by way too fast for him to be able to make any out.

"Hey guys," Mobius frowns and looks towards his co-workers. "Is there anyway that we could only get one or two questions up on the screen at a time? I can't read any of those."

"Devin." Ravonna snaps, glaring over at the man.

"I'm on it." He types on his keyboard for a few seconds before everything disappears from the screen. Moments later, a single question pops back up on the screen.

Ravonna is in her spot muttering something about '-forbid Devin actually does his fucking job and pulls one question at a time like he's supposed too.' Ah. So Devin's the one whose going to be choosing the questions they'll be answering. Isn't that wonderful.

" 'How did your parents react to finding out you're dating a wanted war criminal?' I guess this one's for me." Mobius jokes lightly. "I don't actually know. See, I've been avoiding their calls since the big announcement. So mom, dad, Alex, Taylor, if you're watching, I promise we'll talk later."

Mobius hits the camera with the ole finger gun and hopes his family isn’t watching. Not for any shame or fear, he just knows all too well that they will never let him live any of this down. 

“The question may not be for me, but, as for my family, we do have my brother’s blessing.” Loki interjects. Mobius expected nothing less, but still, hearing it makes him feel warm. 

“Thor knows you’re good for me,” Mobius teases, bumping against Loki. His partner’s expression is nothing short of infatuation. 

“That’s what he said about you.”

Oh. Oh okay. Mobius’s train of thought evaporates without a trace, leaving his mind utterly empty. Thor approves.

A gentle squeeze to his hand brings Mobius barreling back into reality. He doesn’t bother hiding the stupid grin plastered on his face. That effort goes into resisting the desire to pull Loki into a kiss, instead turning back to the monitor. 

The next question is more a paragraph, but it’s easy to see the bottom line. Mobius does appreciate the colorful language, even if the question itself is terrible and bad. 

“Our next question,” Mobius should start calling them his at this point, “‘How do you go from kidnapping to dating?’ Very simple, really. I’m impulsive, and incredibly attracted to him.”

No one can call him on that. It’s a fact, and he’s known for making stupid decisions. He has no self preservation instincts and would absolutely try to pet a grizzly bear in the wild. Falling in love with an internationally wanted twunk God is probably the least dangerous thing he’s gotten himself into. 

“You are?” Loki gives Mobius a look, sweet and clearly amused. He shifts slightly, the fabric of his suit pulling taught over his shoulders. Mobius’s mouth goes dry. Bastard.

“Quite.” Mobius shrugs nonchalantly. “Gods are said to appear rather attractive to humans in, I would say, a majority of both ancient and modern theologies. There’s no doubt some complicated explanation dealing with magic or some sort of divine sight, but I think the more pressing question is why you agreed to a relationship with me.” 

"You knew who I was, and what I had done, and yet you weren't afraid. In fact, you were quite insolent. You surprised me, and I wanted to see more." 

'Thats Gay' sits in the tip of Mobius's tongue, but he doesn't say that. He does think it, however,  and Loki winks at him. 

"Next question." Mobius can feel his voice wanting to crack, but he refuses to let it. 

" 'Why is someone as hot as you still with someone like him?' With the 'him' being italicized." Mobius glares off camera at Devon, who is looking firmly at his computer. 

"It is quite strange, isn't it?" Loki starts before Mobius can say anything and, oh? Where is he going with this? "That Mobius would stay with me despite being, what is it you Midguardians say? So far out of my league?" 

Mobius looks back over to Loki, who is far to honest looking at the moment. He can't actually think that Mobius is out of his league. 

"Lokes, I think you have that reverses. You're to one out of my league. You're a literal God." 

"You are stunning, darling. And so kind. You stay with me, despite being able to have anyone you desire." 

Mobius's heart swells with love for this man, and he leans in to kiss his boyfriend. Loki leans in to meet him half way, but right before their lips connect, Mobius pauses, unable to not be a little shit in this moment. 

"Even Thor?" Loki jerks back, his eyes that had slid shut snapping open. The wide eyes turn into a pointed glare that, if pointed at anyone else, would have been terrifying. 

"I take it all back."

Mobius bites his tongue hard to keep down his reaction. Relationships are not a competition, but it does have minigames and this one is Mobius’s favorite. 

“Something wrong, dear?” Mobius tilts his head to the side the way he’s seen Loki do a thousand times. “Is Thor not a part of anyone?”

There’s something burning in Loki’s eyes, what a less familiar person may call rage. In a way, it is a kind of anger. Intense and passionate, yes, but totally safe to poke at. 

Not that danger would stop Mobius. He’s always been the type to play with matches. 

“You-“

“Me, yes.”

“You contemptuous heel,” Loki spits. Why’s he so hot when he’s worked up? Fuck. “Do you hold nothing sacred?”

“I thought you said we had nothing to hide.” Mobius bats his eyes innocently, but as his amusement floods through their bond, Loki’s shoulders shake slightly with restrained laughter. He doesn’t just crack, he shatters.

Mobius breaks into a laugh, which Loki does not follow but begrudgingly smiles along with. “It’s not fun, is it, huh?”

“I was under the impression that we had an agreement, Mobius.” Loki’s voice is chastising, but he’s too smiley for Mobius to take it to heart. 

“We agreed not to talk about Thor because you mentioned him too many times.” Mobius uses this card sparingly, but he makes it worthwhile. “That doesn’t mean we’re just going to ignore his existence.”

“Once,” Loki defends lowly. This back and forth is familiar, but somehow never routine. “I asked you about him only once, years ago.”

“Zero, Loki.” Mobius knocks their knees together. “The correct number of times to bring up your brother during sex is zero.”

"I did not mention him during sex." Loki defends himself. 

"Uh yeah, you did." For a moment it's like the camera isn't there and the whole world isn't watching them.

"I asked, before we slept together, if you had slept with my brother. You are making this into something it's not." 

'And I will continue to do so.' Mobius teases privately and he receives the equivalent of a flick in response. 

"I was already completely naked, Loki." Mobius says deadpan. 

"Well I wasn't." Loki sticks his nose in the air, acting as if he won this little back and forth. Mobius isn't ready to give up just yet. 

"Are you saying seeing me naked makes you think about Thor?" It's impossible for him not to smile when he asks that. 

"You're playing a very dangerous game, beloved." Mobius is sure there are people out there genuinely worried for his safety due to how menacing Loki is trying to make himself appear. 

It's cute. 

"Good thing it's one I know I can win." Mobius smirks. 

Loki opens his mouth to respond, but something out of the corner of his eye much catch his attention. He closes his mouth and straightens his shoulders. 

"I suppose we should continue on with the questions. But I assure you, this conversation is not over." 

Mobius half hums half chuckles. "It never is." 

The next question comes up, and the mood shifts to something more somber. 

" 'What do you mean "the man responsible?" Who could force a "god" into doing something they don't want to do. I smell bull shit." Loki reads the question in a blank voice.

"Someone very powerful. Someone quite adept at hurting others and is more than willing to do so to get them to do what they want." 

Mobius squeezes Loki's hand, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to that time. 

'Stay with me.'

Mobius feels a weight against his consciousness as Loki leans against him in their bond. It’s not uncommon for them to press together like this, taking solace in each other’s minds. 

It’s far more concerning when Loki leans against him physically. His movement is barely noticeable, but the meaning is enough to send a chill through him. 

Pantheonic Gods aren’t all powerful. Loki may be more resilient than a human, but ability wise he’s just about the same. He isn’t omnipotent. He’s just a prince who does magic tricks and has PTSD.

Another question pops up, and Mobius manually clears it on his end as soon as he reads it. Devin’s eyes are fixed to his screen, but Mobius sees him flinch. 

“‘’Someone’? ‘The man responsible’? You expect us to buy that? This would be more believable if you at least made up a name. Some God of Lies.’” 

Loki doesn’t need the question to recall every word. His expression is neutral and flat, voice almost robotic. 

“I will not say his name,” Loki says quietly, firmly. He made this decision a long time ago, and he will not be heckled into changing it. “I was unable to prevent the things he planned for this realm, but I can keep him from gaining that power over your people.”

"I think we should move on to another question. Perhaps a simpler one?" He shots a glare over towards Devin, who is very clearly ignoring him, but that doesn't stop the glare. 

Mobius sees a new question pop up and he glares for a few seconds longer before looking over at it. 

'What's your favorite color' 

Wow, this one is almost too simple. 

Mobius grabs his mug from the side table and brings it close, taking a sip. As soon as he does it, he knows it's a bad idea. He hears Loki smell the air next to him.

"Mobius, what's in your mug?" Loki questions sweetly. 

"Hm?" Mobius hums, still sipping. 

"Your mug? What are you drinking from it?" Loki is forcing sweetness a lot, almost a scary amount. 

"Water. Same as you." Mobius quickly places his mug down on the table once again, only for it to vanish from his hand in a shimmer of green. 

God damn it. 

"This is certainly not water." Loki acts shocked, like he can't believe his lover would lie to him. 

"It's not? Weird." 

"You know that I will not allow you to kiss me when you taste like... That." Loki curls his lips at the mere thought. He banishes the offending cup, sending it to who knows where. 

"I have a solution for that." Mobius says smugly as he pulls a travel size bottle of Listerine from his inner jacket pocket. He opens the bottle, dumping the contents into his mouth and swishing it around several times before swallowing the mouthwash.

He leans forward, grabbing Loki's by the tie and pulls him into a deep kiss. It's probably deeper than acceptable, but he really doesn't care. 

He pulls away, a proud smile on his face. Loki hums, tilting his head to the side, thinking for a moment. 

"I can still taste it." 

Mobius groans, letting his head fall back against the love seat. Lifting his head enough to make "eye contact" with the camera. 

"He hates the taste of taurine, because he's a bully and wants me to suffer."

“It’s bitter!” 

“You’re bitter!”

Mobius sits back up, half glaring at his partner. Neither acknowledges that his hand is still on Loki’s tie. He has a finger tucked securely behind the knot, so he won’t choke him unless he wants to. 

“You have the palate of a medieval peasant.” Mobius could never tire of getting Loki worked up about this sort of nonsense. “I’d bet you’d get knocked on your ass by a single sour gummy worm.”

Loki’s offense is plain in his face. “My senses are far superior to yours. Those concoctions you drink are unsafe.”

“You eat apple seeds for fun, don’t talk to me about safety.” Mobius counters. Loki consumes enough cyanide in a day to kill a water buffalo. “Energy drinks taste good and actually keep me awake, unlike your ‘alternatives.’”

“The tea I provided for you is the most powerful in Asgard. If it does not work,you must be awakened by some sort of toxin,” Loki tries, truly horrified for his beloved. This has never, and likely will never work. 

“That’s just the thing, though, Lokes.” After their week vacation, he’s not making as good a point, but it still stands. He wants that mug back, sir. “They haven’t killed me yet.”

“Solely because of my intervention.”

"See, that's where you're wrong. I can take care of myself." Mobius is not above batting his eyes and pouting to try and get what he wants. 

"I'm not quite sure if I believe that."

Mobius sighs, he knows that he's not going to win, not with this angle, so he tries a different approach. "Can I have my mug back? Please?"

"I'm not sure." Loki is being a smug bastard right now and it's annoying as it is hot. That is to say, very. "What's in it for me if I do return it?" 

Mobius uses his grip on Loki's tie to pull him close once again. Instead of a kiss, however, he whispers in his ear. "If you don't give it back, you're sleeping on the couch until our third anniversary and not touching me for at least as long." Mobius knows that it's an empty threat, and he's sure Loki knows it too, Mobius can't seem to fall asleep alone anymore and as for the other part.... Well he's a whore. 

Mobius pulls back and Loki looks smug. God damn it, that's not the appropriate reaction. If he looked horrified, as he should, that would be one thing. But now it looks like he just promised him some devious sex act. In front of millions of people.

"I suppose that seems... reasonable." Loki flirts. Mobius's mug reappears and he holds it out to his partner. Mobius takes it and let's go of Loki's tie. He glances down at it as he rushes to place it back on the table, as if doing so will prevent Loki from changing his mind. He notices something isn't how it should be and scowls. 

"Loki." 

"Yes, darling?" He responds way too innocently. 

"Can I also have the contents of my mug back?" He glares at the God. 

"Hmmm. No."

Mobius could do a number of things to rectify this situation, including handing his mug off to an intern to have it refilled, but he sticks to the method that continues to fail him

“So you’ll be summoning your own blankets for your time on the couch, then?” 

“I will not be on the couch.” Loki raises an eyebrow as he delicately fixes his tie. “I fulfilled my end of the deal.” 

There’s a Will you? that hangs in implication, not said because clearly Mobius will. He’s involving their audience in this now. 

Mobius should know by now not to make deals with a trickster. 

“Remember when we talked about the differences between our species?” Mobius takes a softer voice, gentle and comforting. He’s giving the doe eyes he uses when Loki does something particularly sweet. “I need to drink something, or I could get dehydrated.”

Loki’s expression tinges slightly with amusement as he puts a faux concerned hand on Mobius’s thigh. “Are the fluids you have received insufficient?” 

Loki is not talking about the coffee he had before they left.

“We’re going to be talking a lot,” Mobius nods encouragingly at him. They know it’s a game, even with how genuine they sound. He’s not going to state any opinion on the breakfast Loki gave him. “I will need to drink, and, if you would be so kind, my love, I would prefer a drink of my choice.”

“Of course,” Loki waves his hand and a light green glow fills the mug again. “I only wish to keep you safe.”

Mobius’s eyes move from his partner’s face to the mug, and that Bastard. His tender boyfriend facade becomes a little more real as he holds the mug level, careful not to spill Listerine on the floor. 

“I see what you’re trying, my guy, but this will kill me.” Mobius can’t help his half grin. “There’s actual toxic chemicals in mouthwash.”

Loki’s concern becomes legitimate at that. “You just drank some a moment ago.”

“I swallowed a very small amount because I’m not a quitter. There’s a difference.” Mobius, not for the first time, realizes how casually reckless he is. “Actually drinking it can, like, mess with breathing and kills brain cells or something.” 

Mobius can feel panic flash on Loki's side of the mental bond and the mug is once again empty. He reaches out to Loki, both mentally and physically to soothe him.

"I'm fine, Loki." He promises, smiling softly at him. 

"Please do not drink anymore mouthwash. Not if it is detrimental to your health." Loki's request is so genuine that how could Mobius not agree? 

"I won't." He promises. 

"How about we compromise?" Loki offers. Once more the cup is full, heavier this time. Ice rattles around and a sweet smell fills Mobius' nose. 

"Iced coffee? Really?" Mobius is amused.

"Extra vanilla and chocolate syrup." The God says proudly. With a roll of his eyes, Mobius takes a sip of his new drink. "It does serve a secondary purpose." Loki admits as he sets the mug down. 

"Oh? And what's that?" Loki swoops in and kisses Mobius, tongue all but forcing it's why inside his mouth. When Loki pulls back, he leaves Mobius in a sort of shocked haze, a pleasant one. 

"Much sweeter. And the foul taste is gone." Loki sounds awfully proud of himself for this one.

Mobius stares at his partner for a good few seconds, awed by his whole, chaotic deal. He’s going to fuck this man. 

“You could’ve done that before,” Mobius says, once he finally remembers how to speak. 

“Quite easily,” Loki adjusts Mobius’s suit jacket slightly, utterly uninterested in the reasons behind his choices. “It would not have been nearly as interesting.”

“You…“ Mobius doesn’t know where he’s going with that one. He looks away from his partner, running a hand over his face. They really are Like This. 

It’s only out of reflex that he looks up at the monitor, and good on him, because they’ve been ignoring the easiest question of the day for a while. 

Mobius huffs a little laugh, head falling slightly as he nudges Loki with his knee. “We’re doin’ great with this whole stream thing.”

“Hm?” Mobius follows his partner as he looks up and registers what his comment meant. “Right, questions.”

“Yeah, hon. Questions.” Did he forget they were streaming, or just the audience participation part? Either way, he will be bullied at home. “My favorite color is orange, like the third best fruit. Loki?”

“Blue.”

Mobius is poised to go to the next question, but pauses at that. Since when has he been into anything blue? “Not green?”

“I am quite partial to green, yes.” Loki looks at him, really looks, and it’s like he’s seeing Mobius for the first time all over again. A soft smile grows on his face as he reaches out to cup Mobius’s cheek. “However, your eyes are the most striking shade of blue I have ever seen.”

“That’s gay.”

The next couple questions they get are very simple ones, making Mobius think that maybe Devin's actually understood all the threats he's been mentally sending the other man. 

Favorite movie? Mobius answers for both of them, obviously it's Twilight New Moon! That leads to Loki saying he doesn't like Edward and Mobius telling him that he basically is Edward. The God takes great offence to that. 

Someone asks Mobius how many siblings he has, and when he says he has two brothers, he can feel the confusion rolling off of Loki. 

"What about Alex and Taylor?" 

"Those are my brothers." Mobius confirms, and Loki's confusion only grows.

"Are Alex and Taylor not female names? They are used as such on one of those television shows you watch." 

"Oh." Mobius understands his confusion now. "They're used as both male and female names."

"So on Midguard, names are gendered, except for a few which are not?" Loki seems more irritated than confused now. 

"Yep." 

"Why not just have all names be ungendered?" 

"I don't know. It's stupid."

"Very." Loki agrees.

A question about growing up with Thor comes up, to which Loki says 'it was torture' but he has a fond smile on his face. 

The question after that isn't really a question, but a statement. 

'Guys, this is not a heathy relationship. Telling your partner that your going to leave them, none the less for their sibling? That's a big yikes. Threatening them to get your way? Helllllloooo? Am I the only one seeing these things? This Mobius guy is an abuser! And this is stuff he's confident enough to do infront of everyone, I can only imagine what sort of things he does when no one else is looking.' 

Mobius shouldn’t, he knows it, but he laughs. He covers it by bringing the back of his hand up to his mouth, trying to make it seem involuntary or maybe like a cough. 

Loki looks at him, then at the screen, and confusion takes over his expression. “‘Big yikes’?”

“Yeah, it’s like a regular yikes but larger.” Mobius wonders if that’s abusive, teasing his ‘foreign’, in a sense, partner about not knowing certain things. 

He straightens up, trying to regain the seriousness that easy questions have let him lose. “It’s a very serious question.” Mobius waits for Loki to give a nod of understanding. “Do you feel safe with me?”

“Absolutely.” 

Loki’s reply is instant. He doesn’t need a moment to think or consider anything, a fact is a fact.

Mobius’s chest hums with some proud kind of love, making his partner so sure in his safety, and he smiles. “And threatening to bed Thor doesn’t change that?”

Loki’s grimace is honestly the cutest thing Mobius has ever seen. There’s a reason he keeps making these jokes. “I question your taste, not my safety.”

‘’So do I, Lokes.’ 

The God swats at Mobius through their bond, both warm with contented happiness. 

“Safe and secure, right?” Mobius confirms. There’s no such thing as too clear, apparently. “You know I’d never actually leave you for him, or try to hurt you?”

“Of course?” Loki raises an eyebrow at Mobius, then to the camera. “Those threats were made in jest.”

“Yeah.” Mobius would try to assure him that there’s some other side to this, but sometimes kids on the internet don’t realize other people can make jokes too. “They can’t feel you, though. They just see me saying things and worry about how you take it.”

Loki’s lips press into a thin line, and Mobius lightly bumps him with his shoulder. “Hey. Look on the bright side, accusing me of this means they like you.”

"What they are accusing you of is absolutely absurd. You are not Fandral, you would not do a thing like that." Loki says casually. 

"Yeah, I-" Mobius stops, what Loki just said taking a moment to register with him. "Fandral? You never told me about him." Is he really saying that Mobius thinks he's saying. 

"Oh? I'm sure I have." Loki avoids looking at Mobius or the camera. Suddenly, his cuticles seem very interesting.

"Sure," Mobius concedes. "You've told me stories about adventure you and your brother have gone on with the warriors, and you mention that the two of you had a thing. But..." Mobius trails off as he feels Loki pull away from him mentally. He's not blocking Mobiu out, but he's also not offering anything up. It's very unlike him. 

"I'm going to kill him." Mobius promises darkly. Loki squeezes his hand and finally looks at him, a sad smile on his face. 

"He is quite skilled with swords." He gently warns, but Mobius doesn't care.

"According to the stories you've shared, no he's not. Besides what I lack in skill, I make up for in rage and a caffeine addiction." Mobius is beyond angry, but he's trying hard not to let it travel through the bond. He doesn't want Loki to ever think that Mobius is angry at him for this. 

Loki cups the side of Mobius's face and leads him to make eye contact again, something Mobius didn't realize he had stopped doing. "My knight in shining armor." He says softly, blue eyes shining down at Mobius.

“My Prince.”

Mobius lets the gentle glide of Loki’s thumb over his cheekbone lull him into a gentle calm. He will offer to listen, he will comfort Loki when he needs it, and he will stamp down this fire until he has a target to burn. 

He turns, holding Loki’s eyes as he presses a delicate kiss to his inner wrist. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Loki asks softly. It’s Mobius’s line, but it sounds right from his lips. 

“Love me?” Mobius offers, a small smile on his lips. His thumb gently brushes over Loki’s wrist, feeling the steady pulse just beneath the skin. “Let me fight everyone who’s ever hurt you?”

The soft smile grows into amusement as Loki’s hand slips down to cup the side of Mobius’s neck. He shakes his head, caressing the corner of Mobius’s jaw tenderly, almost protectively. 

“Asgard is a dangerous place for.. rapscallions like you.” There’s a sincerity in his words that Mobius won’t push at, but the mirth in his eyes is worth chasing. “So many swords and daggers, and people who will not take your challenge lightly.”

“They shouldn’t,” Mobius gives Loki a grin, sharing the warm feeling in his chest with him. “I’m American, babe. I’ll bring a gun.”

That seems to catch Loki off guard. If Mobius didn’t know any better he would say he choked. “Darling, they will not allow you to bring a gun.”

“They?” Mobius raises an eyebrow. Heimdall seems like he absolutely would, and who cares what the people he’s fighting think? They hurt his boy, they’re not getting away with that.

“I, Mobius,” Loki amends with a loving sigh. “I will not be party to you endangering yourself like that.”

Their visit to Asgard, if they ever manage one, will be Mobius meeting Loki’s family and being shown around the kingdom. The only blood spilt will be when he inevitably pricks himself on a thorn while they walk through the gardens. There will be nothing but peace, for once. Loki deserves memories of his home untouched by pain. 

Mobius squeezes his hand, smiling up at him. They both know Loki can’t stop him from trying this shit. “What good is a knight who can’t defend his prince’s honor?”

Something wet hits the side of Mobius's face for the second time that day and it's no less surprising as it was the first time. Mobius glares at Sylvie who is glaring at them from her spot next to Ravonna. 

"Hey, fruits, can we move onto the next question please? Or do you two feel the need to make out between every single question?" She asks very pointedly.

"Well, if you're offering..." Mobius trails off and starts to look back over at Loki, but gets sprayed again. "Damn it Sylvie!"

"Questions. Now." 

"Okay okay." Mobius holds his hands up in surrender, shifting away from Loki ever so slightly. The next question flickers onto the screen and Loki's mood immediately shifts to one of pure excitement.

'How much of the myths are real? Like does Loki have a bunch of children?'

"I do! I have five sons and they are the absolute best thing about my life." He says excitedly, a large smile across his face. "No offense, beloved."

"None taken." Mobius smiles and leans back against the love seat. Loki loves his children so much, and he's glad that someone asked about them. They're in for a lot of proud parenting and photos being shown.

Loki’s phone is summoned, and he eagerly unlocks it to start showing the stream his boys. Mobius puts a gentle hand on his wrist, nudging him down. 

“The screen won’t show, babe.” Mobius doesn’t finish the term of endearment before the phone is gone, replaced by a mountain of baby photos. Its size alone is intimidating, and Mobius knows that there’s so, so many more at home. 

“You might have to just post them,” Mobius continues, unflinching. 

The pile disappears, and, with a momentary glimmer, his phone is returned and set on Mobius’s thigh. 

“My twins, Váli and Nari,” Loki says, bright and cheerful as ever, conjuring an illusory image of the boys as toddlers. His phone glows slightly and Mobius figures he’s using his magic to post the image as well. 

He launches into an excited story of their youths, not sparing a single detail. Mobius doesn’t have anything to add, the single myth about these boys is completely irrelevant, so he just watches. Loki always gets so happy when he talks about his children, even the ones he didn’t get as much of a hand in raising. 

The story about the twins moves into their adulthood, tapering as he says that they’re both doing well and living happily in a lovely little village not far from the palace. 

Mobius prepares himself as Loki conjures a new image, phone gleaming with unnoticed magic as the world is shown a giant wolf pup. “Then came Fenrir, my third son.”

He’s certainly the easiest to discuss of the three younger boys. Despite his size and occasional attestations of fiery magics, he’s mostly just a regular wolf. 

Mobius sprinkles in little bits about different translations, keeping a keen eye on the chat to ensure they don’t gloss over anything. It’s hard to gloss when Loki’s trying to write biographies about his kids, but there may be questions he needs to be asked. 

Mostly, the chat goes apeshit over big puppy. 

Loki is able to share a memory of Fenrir’s first howl, and tears up as he watches it. The stream has forgotten everything beyond Fenrir and spams crying emotes and all caps awoos. 

Of course, no matter how much the internet loves one of them, Loki could never have favorites. He winds down on Fenrir, and the projection of a wolf with an entire tree trunk in his mouth changes to that of a young boy with a small, slender creature woven between his fingers. 

“This is Vali, again, holding his brother Jörmungandr a few days after he was born.” 

Loki easily glides into talking about his little serpent. Mobius asks for details every so often to keep Loki from seeing any negative comments on the screen. It’s not hard to keep him zoned in on this, he loves his boys more than anything. 

Loki’s nearly ready to move onto  Sleipnir, mid explanation of how Jörmungandr lives with the oceans surrounding Midgard, when his expression goes flat. Mobius feels all the energy on Loki’s side of them bond go cold in an instant. 

“I know not of this ‘Loch Ness’ but my son is not a monster.”

Mobius looks back over at the screen and just manages to catch 'Is Joe the Loch Ness Monster?' 

The shorting of Jörmungandr to Joe is absolutely hilarious, however that's not the part that Mobius is going to focus on right now. He knows that this person meant now harm with this question, but the word 'monster' being associated with any of Loki's children is not a good thing. Call the God a monster and he won't care, heck he might even agree with you. But call any of  his children a monster and you'll see just how protective he can be. 

"Loki, they don't mean anything bad. There's a myth that there's something that lives in lake Loch Ness that no one really knows what it is. They weren't calling your son a monster. I promise." Mobius pushes reassurance through the bond, a little hurt when Loki rebuffs him. He's not ready to let go of the anger from this.

"So they call something they do not understand a monster? That is wrong and cruel." His voice shakes with anger and his hands clench into fists. Mobius reaches out and places his hand over the one closest to him. 

"Loki, look at me." Mobius waits to continue until the God does just that. The anger evident in Loki's eyes is heartbreaking and if it was directed at Mobius, the man would be terrified. "You're right. It's wrong. It's beyond wrong. But I can promise you, there was no cruelty intended with this."

"I will not allow my children to be treated wrongly." Like I was goes unsaid, but Mobius picks up on it anyway. 

"I know." Mobius pulls Loki into a hug, Loki's face away from the camera. "And you're a wonderful parent for it."

“They’re not monsters,” Loki’s voice shakes with anger, with pain.

“I know,” Mobius whispers, squeezing him tighter. “None of you are.”

It takes a long few moments for the tension to release from Loki’s form. There’s still a righteous anger on his end of the bond, completely understandable given all that’s happened, but Loki seems to have a firmer grasp of it as he pulls back from Mobius. 

“Are there others like this creature of Loch Ness?” Loki asks after a moment. There’s something in his eyes that reminds Mobius of those Sarah McLachlan commercials. 

“Yeah,” He nods, his hand on Loki’s elbow. “We have a lot of urban legends about aquatic cryptids. There’s probably five or six Little Nessies in the Great Lakes alone.”

“Little.. Nessies?” The term cryptid rings familiar, at least. Loki recalls his thorough education on the Jersey Devil whilst he recuperated from his chest wound. “Are they..?”

“Jörmungandr? Probably not,” Mobius tries to let him down gently, no matter how absurd this whole concept is. “The stories are too different for them to be about the same being.” 

“He cannot change form,” Loki agrees softly. It’s not that Loki didn’t teach his sons magic, they have quite the capabilities if Loki’s Dad Bragging is to be believed. 

Mobius offers him his phone, an artist’s rendering of a plesiosaur on the screen, and Loki goes still. “This is-“

“My son.” 

His voice is so genuine it catches Mobius off guard. The projection of Jörmungandr changes to almost the exact same pose as the artwork. 

“Oh.” Mobius refused to believe Nessie was even real. So many sightings have been proven to be hoaxes that he always figured it wasn’t real, but now? How can he respond to this?

“Those ‘Little Nessies’..” Loki looks up from the screen slowly as Mobius turns back from the projection. “Are they descendants?”

Is Loki.. He has five sons but surely Jörmungandr hasn’t fathered that many, has he? He couldn’t have. There’s no way, right?

Mobius takes a shaky breath, laughing awkwardly. “That’s a question for him.”

Loki sags. "I cannot visit him. He is being... Watched over." 

Mobius doesn't need to ask to know what that means. If Loki goes to visit his son, any of them, he'll be found out by Odin.

"Why don't you tell them about Slippy?" He offers gently and Loki shoots Mobius a playful glare. 

"I would thank you to call Sleipnir by his name." A small smile is on Loki's lips but he tries to hide it. 

"Mmmhmm. Sure." Mobius agrees without really agreeing. Loki rolls his eyes, but brings up an illusion of his youngest. 

"This is Sleipnir. He is the splitting image of his father." 

The chat goes wild. 

'His father????'

'Loki's not daddy?'

'Did he fuck a horse?'

'DID HE FUCK A HORSE??????'

'YALL, HE GAVE BIRTH DK A HORSE!!! ITS ONE OF THE MYTHS' 

'Heh, reminds me of that's dude who got fucked by a horse and filmed it.'

'Didnt that dude die?' 

'Yeah 😟 '

'Rip fallen king 😔'

Mobius bites his tongue to keep from laughing, eyes following the chat as Loki talks about his littlest son. 

“You did add a few legs,” Mobius says as Loki shows Svaðilfari and Sleipnir together. Even as a colt, the baby was nearly the size of his father. 

“He’s a strong boy,” Loki says, not an ounce of humor in his tone. The two men look identical, other than the limb discrepancy. “I did not choose his appearance, but I love him no less for it.”

Mobius takes Loki’s hand, rubbing their thumbs together. The chat has managed to count Sleipnir’s legs, and has dubbed him SpiderHorse.

There are more stories about Sleipnir than Fenrir or Jörmungandr, mostly little tidbits out of context from after he was taken by Odin. The people don’t need to know how cruel the King of Asgard is just yet. 

Loki is able to lose himself in talking about his baby boy, circling back every now and then to add in stories about all of his sons working together to stir up chaos. It’s sweet and wholesome, genuinely the happiest Mobius has seen Loki in years.

The chat is still asking about horse sex.

Loki could, and has, talk about his kids for hours, but they do have to move on eventually. The live stream is only scheduled to be an hour long, meaning they really only have time for a few more questions. 

The God wraps up the child talk by saying "I have not been blessed with a little girl, even though I would very much like one." His left hand subconsciously moves to rest right over his stomach. "However, if I never am, my boys are more than enough for me, and I feel extremely lucky for them and the time we've spent together. I know they're not watching this, but I still want to say that I love them very much."

Mobius squeezes Loki's hand reassuringly. "They know." He promises.

Devin pulls up the next question, and Mobius groans. It's about him. Hurray.

'This bitch induced himself as Mobius M. Mobius. The fuck is his middle name?' 

Loki reacts to the question first, glaring at it as if it person offended him.

"I will not allow my beloved to be spoken to as such." He glowers. Mobius doesn't try to calm Loki down this time. It's not true anger, it's just irritation.

"Yeah, you'll never guess. My middle name is, indeed, Mobius. So yes, I'm Mobius Mobius Mobius. Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous. No, I'm not going to change my name. Let's move on."

Devin pulls another, ignoring Mobius’s request to move on. 

‘Mobius all the way down. His brothers are also Mobius. His parents are Mobius. His blood type is Mobius. Mobius, Mobius of Mobius ’

“I’m not sure what my blood type is, actually,” Mobius half laughs, more at the question’s absurd phrasing than it’s content. “My brothers’ names are Taylor and Alex, they both have their own, nonMobius middle names. As do our parents. I don’t know why, it doesn’t bother me, there’s nothing more to say.”

Frankly, Mobius doesn’t mind his name. It’s memorable and has a good ring to it, even if it gets a little annoying at times like this. He does know why he was named this, of course. He asked a thousand times as a kid and eventually his parents explained, but the story isn’t one he’d particularly like to share. 

Loki’s demeanor, which has drifted into the softer, domestic form Mobius is used to, stiffens. His hand slips to hold his thigh protectively, shoulders broadening as he puts himself between Mobius and the screen. 

He doesn’t get to tell the people off before Mobius sees the question that’s gotten him this irritated. 

‘What in God’s Glorious Name is that fucking nose, my man?’

“Fuckin’ rude.” 

There are other things he should have said, but he’s more aiming the words at the coward across the room than the person in the chat. 

“I don’t know why this question is up, very interesting choice on the part of whoever’s picking them, but,” Mobius shrugs his pointed look not leaving Devin as he cowers behind his monitor. 

He flicks over to Ravonna for half a second before looking back to the camera. “I got into a couple scraps in school, and now I box. I’ve had my nose broken a few times.”

Loki’s hand on his thigh squeezes lightly as he turns to him, a myriad of over protective emotions on his face. “Pardon?”

“Yeah, I got my shit rocked a couple times.” Mobius grins, guiding Loki’s hand away from his face as he sees the God’s fingers start to glow. “I don’t want it healed, babe. I’m all good.”

The glimmer dies and Mobius allows Loki to gently trace the line of his nose, almost reverently. “Who did this?”

“No clue,” Mobius says with a grin. He shouldn’t be proud, but he was acting in self defense. “I gave as good as good as I got, didn’t bother remembering much else.”

Mobius quickly turns his head, kissing the pad of Loki's thumb. "Come on Lokes, don't you think it makes me ruggedly dashing?" 

"Very handsome." Loki agrees softly. He leans forward, gently kissing the bridge of Mobius's nose.

Mobius glances away from his partner to the screen, which has a new question pulled up.

' "They can't feel you though" what does that mean? '

"Oh! This one's actually a really good one!" Mobius gets excited. "Loki, why don't you explain it? You know more about it than I do." 

"Not really." Loki says with a shrug. 

"N- not really as in you don't want to talk about it, ooooorrr..." Mobius trails off. 

"I am not... entirely sure as to how it functions." Loki hesitantly admits. 

"What do you mean you're not 'sure how it functions'?" Mobius can't believe this. 

"Well, this isn't something that is very common. Infact, I can really only think about one mention of it in any of the legends I've heard." 

"This is insane. Have you tried to look into it?"

"Of course I have." Loki scoffs.

"Have you looked everywhere?" Mobius pushes.

"Everywhere I have had access too." Loki confirms. "I do have a theory, however."

"Well please, share your theory with the class." Mobius gestures towards the camera. 

"Before returning you home , I touched your mind, in a way marking so that if you were to pray to me it would cut through any other prayers, which I do tend to ignore. Perhaps, our continued physical relationship changed it and opens the connection up both ways."

“You mean…” Mobius runs the memory over in his mind, the pieces starting to fall into place. “You pray to me now?”

“No.”

Loki’s response doesn’t hold nearly enough conviction to be believable. This can’t be prayers, at least not from Mobius’s end, but he distracts himself from the confusion with teasing his partner. 

“Are you sure?” Mobius pries, faux concern in his eyes. Loki’s silence should be worrying, but in this moment it’s that most satisfying thing Mobius has ever heard. “I know what it feels like to pray to you, and that’s not what this is. You went into my mind and now I can read yours. It seems like I’m your God now.”

Mobius feels Loki’s reaction to that and Oh, they’re definitely bringing this up again. 

“Prayers are like letters,” Loki defends, just a second later than he should. “I do not see into minds unless I’m invited. You seem to stay within mine, like some sort of mental cohabitation.”

“Are you sure you didn’t invite me and just forget to kick me out?” Mobius doesn’t doubt that Loki would unintentionally open a door like that. He’s intense and sentimental, and more often than not a little bit of a dumb ass. 

“I would never be that reckless.” Loki sounds indignant. Maybe he should be. 

“Really?” Mobius tilts his head slightly. “Because, and I don’t know about you, but my first real memory of whatever this mindlink-bond-thing is, was right around the time you nearly died trying to summon soup.”

“That was ill advised, but I stand by it.” Loki maintains a playfully adversarial relationship with Sylvie, but he’s very plain about his love for her mother’s cooking. “I have not been reckless with my magics. Never around you.”

He can’t be sweet. Sweetness and genuine care about his partner is illegal. Mobius hums, shrugging. “I dunno, baby. It sure sounds to me like you’re praying to your cool new God.”

"Five minutes left, let's start to wrap it up." Ravonna tells them. As much as Mobius would love to continue teasing his boyfriend over praying to him, they really should move on to the next, and probably last, question. But they will be revisiting this conversation later. 

Mobius is kind of... disconcerted that Loki messed with his head by doesn't know exactly what he did. 

As soon as the next question is pulled up, Mobius wishes that he had ignored Ravonna's warning. 

'Look at these two faggots, trying to convince us all that they're a 'normal couple'. I don't give a rats ass about the one being an alien, but they're both nacey boys, and that makes me want to barf.'

"You.... piece of shit!" Mobius is speaking to both the homophobe who asked this 'question' and Devin, who decided to give them a platform to spread their hate. 

"Darling, what-" Loki begins to ask, but Mobius doesn't let him finish. 

"I'll explain later, Loki." Mobius is shaking with rage and this time it's his turn not to let his partner calm him.

"You think you're a big tough man, don't you? Hiding behind your screen, spreading hate, calling people slurs. When I get my hands on you-" once again, he's speaking to both the commenter, and Devin who has the fucking audacity to look surprised at Mobius's words. 

"Devin!" Sylvie scolds him, eyes burning with rage not quite matching Mobius's, but close enough.

Ravonna storms between the rows of tables, grabbing Devin by the collar and dragging him out of the room. She should stay to keep hold of the stream, but clearly someone needs to intervene. 

Mobius’s hands are balled into fists, his jaw set as he glares at the bigot being taken from the room. He can’t be forced to care that there are millions of people watching. 

The question comes down off the monitor, disappearing from the bottom of the chat as Bea takes over Devin’s place. Sylvie and Mobius share a look, and it’s only her understanding anger that keeps him from bolting out the door after them. 

His rage is barely contained, tamped down only on the surface. It’s roiling, just below the thin veneer of control, only rising in intensity. It feels like he could burst at the seams. 

“Homophobes want a rise out of you.” Mobius says, voice uneven with the effort he takes to sound calm. “I should not have fed into it, I don’t fucking care. I’m sure they’re happy they got a reaction, but I’m not going to let my partner get called slurs.”

Mobius takes a heavy, steadying breath, clenching and loosening his fists slowly to try and keep himself together. “This was an honor. I wish it could have ended differently. I am sorry you had to see that last question.” 

On Mobius’s periphery, Loki nods stiffly, watching him intently. Sylvie nods at Mobius at the other end of his vision, and he feels the thinnest amount of relief. 

“Goodbye.”

Loki adds in a Farewell before the stream cuts out, question screen going dark as the whole ordeal is finally, blissfully over. 

“What the fuck was that?” Mobius thinks the roughness of his voice makes it a growl. 

“There has to be something we can do.” Sylvie sounds disturbed, beneath the anger. Her indignation and disgust with this situation has worn her down, she can’t be surprised with the shit he does anymore. “That’s.. HR has to do something.”

“They won’t.” Mobius spits, “They never fucking do, Sylv.”

This is Hel. Mobius stews in his rage, trying to even out his breathing or count, tap his fingertips, something, anything, but the methods he uses to relax himself only seem to irritate him more. He shouldn’t have to do this.

Mobius looks up as Ravonna starts back into the room at least ten minutes after the stream ended. Any thoughts of self preservation or calming tactics fly out the window when his eyes settle on Devin’s stupid, smug face. 

In a single movement, Mobius stands, taking three smooth steps across the messy and crowded room to meet them as they approach. Devin smiles and starts to open that stupid fucking mouth of his, but the only sound is a sickening crunch as Mobius’s fist connects with his face.

Devin's head snaps back, his hand flying up to his nose, as if cupping it is going to stop the blood that is running at a quick pase. 

"Mobius!" Ravonna snaps. He knows that that shouldn't irritate him, it's her job to prevent him from kicking Devin's ass. This isn't he condoning his actions, but god it feels like it. 

"What the fuc-" Devin doesn't get to finish before Mobius throws another punch, this one sending the intern sprawling to the floor.

Mobius wants to keep going, kick Devin's god damn teeth in, but Loki stop's him. He's not sure if his lover used magic to teleport infront of him or just moved quickly, but between one blink and the next, Loki's between them. He places a hand on Mobius's chest and firmly, but not unkindly, pushes him back a few steps. It's not a shove, it's more like leading him back. 

Loki's trying to calm him down, but it doesn't work, if anything Loki's calming thoughts and almost pleading expression make Mobius's anger worse. 

"You think it's fucking funny? Do you think it was cute what you just did?" Mobius yells past Loki to Devin, who has smartly decided to remain on the ground. 

"It was an accident! I clicked the wrong one." Devin defends, his voice both muffled by his hand sounding almost stuffy due to his more than likely broken nose. 

"Bull shit! You know what you were doing and you did it intentionally." Loki is the only thing keeping Mobius from attacking the man again, and the God knows it. No one else seems interested in intervening. Not even Ravonna.

"Mobius, darling, look at me."  Loki says so softly the Mobius can't help but listen. He has tears of anger falling from his eyes that he didn't even notice until Loki cups the side of his face and brushes one away with his thumb. 

"It's not alright, Lokes." Mobius voice trembles in anger.

"I know." Loki agrees. "While I might not understand what that term means, it is clear it upsets you."

"I don't care that I was called it. I've been called worse before, but you don't deserve that." Mobius suddenly feels the need to make Loki understand. 

Devin, who never knows when to shut the fuck up, decides this would be a great time to poke the bear. 

"I can't believe this monster is the only one able to talk sense to you." Mobius tenses, but Loki pays him no mind. "You really are a freak, Mobius." 

Suddenly, Loki is a lot less inclined to hold Mobius back. They make eye contact and Loki nods, letting his hand fall from Mobius's chest. With his partner no longer holding him back, Mobius is upon Devin in a second. 

He grabs the younger man by the front of his shirt and lifts him off the ground by a few inches. 

"Get the fuck off me." Devin tries to pry himself free of Mobius's grip, but it's no use. 

"Listen to me and listen well. You are done. If I ever see you near my partner, or hear you say another derogatory thing about him, I don't care what happens to me after, but I will kill you."

"What's going on in here?" Tony Stark asks from the doorway, Steve Rodgers and Natasha Romanoff visible behind him.

Mobius knows that should stop him in his tracks, but he is far to angry to be afraid of his boss right now. “What’s needed to happen for two goddamn years.”

Devin, sensing an opportunity, whines and writhes in Mobius’s grip, kicking his feet uselessly. “Please, help me!”

The trio in the doorway move in, and Mobius senses the faintest buzz of magic beside him as Loki casts a minor shield for him. 

Mobius isn’t paying attention to any of that, much less the literal super soldier and impossibly talented secret agent stalking toward him. Instead, he lets out a cruel laugh, lifting Devin higher. “If you wanna play the victim, I’ll make you feel like a fucking victim.”

“I didn’t know!” Devin sounds genuinely distressed, and good, he fucking should be. “Mobius, fuck, I swear it was a mistake. Please let me go.”

“You didn’t know?” Mobius grins with anger, pulling Devin closer to force him to make eye contact. “You mean to tell me you didn’t know that was a slur?”

Devin nods like he thinks Mobius might actually believe him, looking up with big, pouty doe eyes. 

“What happened?” 

Devin’s eyes snap to Stark’s, frightened and desperate, but Mobius doesn’t blink. “Sir, I don’t know, I-“

“This little shit has disrespected every single person in this office from day fucking one,” Mobius snarls, hand tightening in his shirt. “I’ve fucking had it. The bigotry has been obvious, but using a fucking global stream to be homophobic? And you- God, you really thought you’d get away with this didn’t you?”

Devin squeals, hands coming up to try and pry Mobius’s fingers off his shirt. Mobius catches his wrists and watches the fear well up in his eyes as he squeezes, not tight enough to break anything, but more definitely enough to hurt. 

“I asked you a question. Answer me.”

"I clicked the wrong question! I swear, it was an accident!" Devin pleads, trying to twist his wrists to get out of Mobius's hold. 

"Oh it was, was it? Was it an 'accident' yesterday when you called me a 'terrorists whore'?" Mobius can feel a flare of anger from Loki's side of the bond. 

"I-I didn't-"

"Everyone heard you." Sylvie backs Mobius up on that. 

"Okay, we will get to the bottom of this." Steve says playactingly. "But right now you need to put him down." Mobius's grip on Devin's wrists tighten, and the intern whimpers. 

"Mobius." Natasha says sharply. He drops Devin, shoving him harshly to the ground. Natasha grabs Devin's arm and hoists him to his feet. Loki comes behind Mobius and wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly.

"All you need to do to 'get to the bottom of this' is watch the last question of the live stream. He let a question using the f slur through." 

Devin once again claims that it was an accident- but is cut off by Tony speaking. 

"This type of behavior is unacceptable. You're fired." And what the fuck? Mobius is being fired for this? That's so not fair. 

"Thank you." Devin sounds much less scared now. "He's a threat to everyone here, he and his 'partner' should be in jail."

Mobius tries to defend himself, but Tony starts talking once again. 

"Not him, you." He looks up from his phone to Devin. 

"Me? But I didn't do anything! I was attacked!"

Tony turn his phone around and has Jarvis pull up the clip in question. "You've always been so careful, Devin. HR has never been able to nail you with anything. But this? It's clear as day." 

Devin gapes at him, betrayal clear on his face. He’s been open about thinking he’s Tony’s favorite on the team, even going as far as to dub himself the future Iron Man-ager. 

“I’m- I’m not even in that!” 

“Not this one,” Tony swipes to a different angle, one from a security camera, of Devin pointedly selecting the question to be shared. “There’s cameras all over the building.”

“I didn’t- That’s Orwellian.“ Devin seems incensed at that. The limp shock he had been in is replaced with the aggression he showed yesterday. “This is bullshit!”

While some of the practices of Stark Industries are fucked up, no doubt about that, something about his tone gets even deeper under Mobius’s skin. 

“Thank him.”

“What?” Devin means to bark it at him, but he’s clearly taken aback. 

“Thank. Him.” Mobius repeats, low and threateningly steady. “Thank all four of them, Devin. They’re the only reason you’re not halfway to the pavement right now.”

Devin tries to lunge, easily held back by the Avengers at his sides. He starts to make some sort of shitty threat, which Tony speaks over. “Get him out of here.”

“Can I help?” Bea asks, piping hot from the computer and intern sea in the corner. Natasha looks to her, the slightest change to her ever neutral expression. “I’ve wanted to see this for years.”

“We all have,” Sylvie agrees, eyes not leaving Devin’s bloodied face.

Steve and Natasha share a look and then nod, taking Devin away as their media managers follow them out. 

“They’ll try to kill me!” Devin says, desperately, as he drags his heels to try and stay with the rest of the team. 

“Kill you?” Sylvie puts on a fake sweet voice as they step into the hall, danger clear in her tone. “I’d never, sweetheart.”

They leave, the elevator chiming as it arrives and then closes, ferrying the five of them away. 

Without a target, Mobius’s anger wilts rapidly. At its center, there’s still the fiery coals of unwavering ire that he caries no matter what, but the edges are cooled. 

“Are you alright?” Loki asks so gently, almost like he’s afraid to anger Mobius. And, God, doesn’t that just make him feel fucking guilty?

“No.” It’s somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Mobius laughs. He looks up at Loki, who looks like he just watched Mobius get beheaded, not break an intern’s nose. “You?”

Loki touches his face tenderly, again, then glances down at Mobius’s hands and his eyes widen. “Your hand.”

Mobius raises it, realizing for the first time that he’s relaxed his fists. Loki isn’t wrong, his hand does look concerning. There’s blood on his knuckles, and his little finger is at a familiarly off angle. 

Mobius slams the side of his hand down on his opposite forearm, forcing the bone back into place. He’s gotten fairly good at adjusting it himself, after so many bare knuckle fights. The second crunch is louder than the one that caused the injury, but he’s beyond used to it. 

“Blood’s not mine.” 

Loki looks at him, clearly trying to not seem horrified, but failing miserably at it. "Is that... Is that something that your supposed to be able to do?" 

"Absolutely not." Ravonna answers for him, the disgust at what he just did clear on her face. 

"Eh." Mobius shrugs. "I break it all the time." 

"May I?" Loki reaches his hand out, fingers dancing with magic. Mobius smiles at him but doesn't take the offered hand. 

"Nope! If I let you do that, then next time I break it it will hurt more. I appreciate it though." Mobius presses a kiss against Loki's cheek before turning to look at Ravonna. "So, what else is on the agenda today?" 

"You're going to go to the hospital." Ravonna tells him matter of fact.

"I'm fine, really. I just want to work." Mobius flashes her the biggest smile. 

"No, you're not. You need to go see a doctor and get that hand of your's checked out." 

Mobius let's his shoulders slump, and the smile falls from his face. "I understand if you're... uncomfortable working with me after seeing... That. However if you're truly just worried about me being hurt, then I would really just rather stay and work." Mobius sounds defeated, and Loki hates it.  He stands right behind his beloved and wraps and arm around him, holding him close and offering comfort. 

"It's not that, Mobius. I promise." Ravonna has nothing but kindness in her voice.

"That being said, you can't stay at work after an injury like that." Tony speaks up for the first time since Devin was taken away. "Liability." He explains with a shrug. 

"But I-" A loud clap of thunder booms outside and moments later, Thor crashes though the celling. 

"Hey! Point Break! We've talked about this!" Tony throws his hands up, getting real irritated at how often Thor breaks things. 

"I am sorry Man Of Iron, I will be more careful." Thor promises. Tony grumbles irritatedly, calling his contractor. 

"Brother! I hope the stream that was live went well! I had to make a trip back to Asguard, there was an urgent matter I had to speak with Fandral about." Thor smiles and rests Jonathan on his shoulder.

"Brother. You didn't." Loki chides him and Mobius doesn't understand why until he sees the smear of blood on the corner of Thor's hammer.

“Is he okay?” Mobius asks, eyeing the size of the mark. It doesn’t look like any significant damage, probably just a nice thunk and some mild bruising, but Thor may have missed a spot. 

“He was alive when I left.” Thor states it carefully. He’s less slick with playing up royal airs than Loki is, but to someone who doesn’t spend every day with them both, it might not seem like avoidance. 

“Good,” Mobius nods, ignoring the fact that Fandral is most certainly injured and bleeding on the floor somewhere. He deserves it. “I wanna have a turn with him.”

Thor’s expression is clear with confusion and concern, having only missed Mobius breaking his hand for Loki by a few seconds. “You know what guns are, right, Thor?”

Before the elder God can answer, Loki pulls Mobius closer to him. It’s a form of restraint and affection, and if they weren’t in front of Thor, Mobius is sure he would have been chastisingly bitten for the suggestion. 

“No, Mobius.” Loki emphasized the point heavily, as though he doesn’t believe Mobius will listen. He’s right to, Mobius will not. “I’m taking you home to be healed. There will be no more discussion of weaponry.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Mobius says with a sigh, gently squeezing Loki’s arm where it crosses his chest. “The building needs healed more than I do.”

With a spark of green, the ceiling is repaired, as well as the rest of Thor’s not insignificant damage to the Tower. “Darling, I worry for you.”

“Don’t,” Mobius suggests simply, tilting his head to look back and up at Loki. “Bones are made to break. I’ve had way worse than this and come out just fine, I swear. It doesn’t even hurt.”

"Yeah, that's not normal, bud." Tony says, before glancing at Loki. "Thanks for helping with the roof." 

"I am quite experienced when it comes to cleaning up Thor's messes." The God tries to be serious, but everyone can see the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey!" Thor seems outraged at Loki's claim, and that only makes his smile more obvious. 

"No offense, sir." Mobius starts slowly. "There's nothing really normal about this."

The three of them eventually manage to convince Mobius to go home. (It would be the four of them, but Thor's not really sure what's going on, so he doesn't exactly count.) Loki teleports them back to the apartment, but Mobius still refuses to let him heal his finger. 

The bicker about it but Mobius ends up winning in the end. It's his body, so therefore, his choice. 

Mobius leans in to kiss his partner, only for Loki to place a hand over the humans mouth with a devious smile. 

"Darling, I love you, but I am going to need you to go brush your teeth." 

"What? Why?" 

"You still taste of that horrible drink." Loki's face and voice are neutral, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. 

"Oh come on!" 

Mobius strips himself of his jacket and tie, tossing them on the bed as he goes to the bathroom. The entire time he's brushing his teeth, Mobius is loudly grumbling about , 'unappreciative gods. Break a finger for him and it's still not enough'.

It's so adorable that Loki can't help but share it, especially now that he's able to. With a flourish, his phone is out and live streaming his lover to his many Instagram followers. 

They seem to find Mobius just as amusing as he does.

Chapter Text

A few days later, they go out on their date, hands clasped together, bracelets gently rubbing against eachother every so often. Loki wears no disguise, except for the one he's worn his entire life. They remind each other 'no fear', which has become a mantra. 

While they're out, they get curious looks, a handful of glares, and someone spits in their direction, but nothing happens. They enjoy their dinner, and when they get home, they enjoy eachother.

They enjoy each other with a fervor these days. It isn't as if they were anywhere near chaste before, but they can hardly keep their hands off each other. 

Loki, out of the kindness of his heart, restores the magic that hid the marks on Mobius's throat, but only during work hours. He keeps a professional image at the office, but the moment he leaves the Tower, the world can see he's been claimed. 

Loki does not give himself the same illusion. At first, he simply doesn't need it, but as the days go on, Mobius gets a little possessive. By the end of the first week of their relationship being public, Loki is little more than a walking bruise. 

Just as Loki finds joy in sharing their relationship on social media, so does Mobius. 

His Twitter has always been filled with little tidbits of their life, but now he can say Loki instead of 'my beloved dumbass'. 

He still calls Loki that, but he just doesn't have to. 

He keeps his personal Instagram account private but creates a second that he uses surprisingly often. 

A lot of it is just commenting under Loki's posts and getting into little bickering matches with him, but Mobius does make his own posts. 

The grand majority are Loki. Loki curled up in their bed, Loki on the couch correcting a book on mythology, Loki making breakfast shirtless, covered in hickeys, Loki tenderly nurturing their plant children. 

Occasionally, Mobius posts just the plants, or something with the team, maybe a particularly lovely sunset, but the majority is him disgustingly in love with his partner. 

The newness of not having to hide slowly levels out. Things are odd for a while, but Mobius learned early that if he ignores the people staring, they get bored and look away. 

Work is tense for a while, but there's no dam break of hatred. Eventually, people see that he's still the same Mobius. The few interns with whom he was willing to have personal conversations ask how Loki is, their tone the same as when they would ask about Lucas. 

The weight of fear and anxiety that Mobius has been carrying for two whole years all but vanishes in the span of a few weeks. 

The Media Team meets every two weeks to discuss plans going forward, and he's not painfully stiff going into it for once.

When they arrive, Stark is already sitting at the head of the meeting table. One of the interns, Cece, scampers out after handing him a coffee cup far too big for human consumption. 

They all filter in, chattering amongst themselves. He's trying and failing to look intrigued by Sylvie's frustrated monologue about one of the Hunters fucking up some paperwork. Loki got a little too into worshiping his God last night, and Mobius is struggling not to limp. 

"Mobius," Stark greets him with a slight nod, and shit, this can't be good. He's never acknowledged him individually at the beginning of a meeting. Is this the end? "Rough night?"

Oh. Oh okay. Mobius laughs, shifting in his seat slightly. "Rough morning." That's not entirely a lie. They did go well into the morning. He shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of his coffee-flavored energy drink. "Got hit by a taxi on my way in."

All the Avengers, except Clint, take turns teasing him whenever possible about getting 'hit by a taxi' or getting 'mugged'. 

They discover some interesting truths about Sylvie through very convoluted and impossible-to-recreate circumstances.

She's a Frost Giant.

Well, half frost giant, anyway. She says something, and Loki looks at her like she has a second head, asking where she heard that. Apparently, it's a phrase that Sylvie's mother used to say to her; it's the only thing she had to pass along to Sylvie from her father. 

Loki looks at her very intently for a long moment before turning his hand blue. He pokes her cheek, and she slaps his hand away, calling him a weirdo. 

Sylvie's face turns blue. 

She's understandably freaked out. But Loki calms her down, telling her about his people, their people.

He realizes very, very quickly that he knows next to nothing. 

It's not a pleasant realization, especially not after identifying himself as the heir of Jötunheim. Sylvie asks about their world, culture, and basic physiology, and Loki has to uncomfortably admit he doesn't know. 

Mobius offers scholarly texts to them both, and for once, Sylvie doesn't insult him. Loki does forewarn her that Midgard's knowledge has already proven spotty at best, but she'll take anything. 

Their frequent hangouts, during which Sylvie wrecks their asses at Mario Kart and then complains about them cuddling, have a new segment between them where Mobius infodumps about his research, and Loki almost immediately discredits every theory. 

It takes a number of these little mythology lectures for Loki to cave. He knew it would come to this from the moment those words left Sylvie's mouth, but he had hoped it would not be needed. 

He visits Mobius during his workday under the guise of bringing his forgotten lunch, and then sneaks off into the Tower to find his brother. 

The plan is simple. There is only so much Loki can borrow from the palace library before its keepers start to notice, but if Thor were to take the books himself, no one would bat an eye. It would merely be the future king continuing his studies while on Midgard. 

Thor is surprisingly easy to convince, not even asking for a reason why, and for a moment, Loki wonders just how much mischief he could have gotten up to if they had been working together. Once this mission is complete, he will find out. 

When Mobius returns home that evening to find stacks upon stacks of official histories on Jötunheim, Loki is kissed hard and then abandoned in favor of study. 

Loki was deprived of any further affection for nearly three days as Mobius poured through them. 

Even when he completed his painfully meticulous study of the texts, there were questions. More than any of them had before, actually. Asgard isn't exactly well educated on the goings-on in other realms, but it isn't as if they have access to the libraries of the others. 

Loki is the prince of Jötunheim, though. 

When Sylvie suggests he go home and talk to people, Loki says there are difficulties with that, and does not expand on it. It's not until much later that night, tucked tightly against Mobius's chest, that Loki admits his fears. 

Yes, he worries about what may happen if he ever returns to Asgard, but at least he knows the boundaries of what is possible. But Jötunheim? The realm he was taught to fear, that he attacked twice, attempting genocide and successfully killing their king? How much can his royal status protect him there?

To say Loki is terrified would be an understatement. He fears nothing more, other than him. Mobius tries to comfort him, but there's not much to say. According to the Asgardian texts, the Joutin people are violent, but who knows if that's accurate or not. 

He won't push Loki to go; in fact, after hearing Loki's fears, Mobius develops similar ones. Sylvie, on the other hand, pushes every time she sees Loki. Mobius tries to distract her, but it's every time without fail. 

She's curious and eager to learn about this part of herself that she didn't know about until recently, and Mobius can't fault her for that. But can't she see how uncomfortable she makes Loki every time she suggests it? Doesn't she see the way he curls in on himself slightly and fidgets with the bracelet adorning his wrist?

Eventually, she gets fed up with Loki giving mostly half answers and clearly dodging the questions. "Fine, if you're not going, I'll just have Thor take me." She crosses her arms over her chest. 

"Don't be a fool. You would freeze in minutes." Loki scoffs and acts like he's not worried, but Mobius can feel that he is. Over the past two, almost three, years, he has genuinely come to care for her. 

"You don't know that. If I'm half Joutin, then maybe I'll be just fine." 

"I'll tell Thor not to take you. He'll side with me." But will he? Loki would certainly hope so, but his brother is a bit too soft-hearted for his own good, and if Sylvie gains his sympathy, then he might make a foolish choice. 

"Why are you being so stubborn?" She doesn't stomp her foot like a child, but it's a near thing. 

"It is far more dangerous than you can imagine."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" Sylvie scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Loki's voice is so icy that it's more than believable that he's from an ice planet. 

"It means if you're not going to go, your majesty, "She uses the honorific mockingly. "Then I'll figure out a way to go myself."

"You will get yourself slaughtered." Loki says flatly. Fear is rolling off of him in waves, hard enough to nearly double Mobius over. How can Sylvie not feel it? 

She glares, and for a moment, her eyes seem to shift in color. "Maybe you would. I'm built differently."

"No, you're not." Loki runs his thumb over the words carved into his bracelet. No Fear has never felt more unattainable. "They will kill you. Your intentions will be assumed, and this realm will be invaded. Your people will die."

He could go on; he's imagined it all before. Sylvie could succumb to the elements or be taken by a frost beast. If he takes her there, would she not be tortured as his compatriot? 

Sylvie scoffs at him, but she takes a few seconds to respond. She's still just as frustrated, not the slightest softening to her tone. "Why do you assume everything will go wrong?"

The question is so naïeve, so blind to Loki's dealings. He has kept the nightmarish bedtime stories from her because he doubts their truth, but clearly, she has no understanding of what she's trying to do. "Why don't you?"

"I didn't do anything!" Sylvie says, throwing her hands up. She either doesn't see or doesn't care to acknowledge how Loki flinches. 

"You didn't have to." 

"You were left in another realm, unaware of your kind. You could not have been hard to find. If it's taken this long to discover.." Loki's voice is tinged with something, a kind of hurt that Sylvie could so easily as condescension. "They do not want you."

"I don't give a fuck if they want me!" Sylvie's reply is immediate and furious. "I want answers."

"You're not always going to get what you want, Sylvie. So stop acting like a petulant, ill-mannered child." He snaps back. 

"Why don't you make me?" Sylvie steps closer to Loki, and Mobius can tell this will be bad. He pushes his way between the two, pushing them away from eachother.

"Okay, that's enough!" he says in the firmest tone he can. "Sylvie, I think it's time that you leave." Loki's hand rises to Mobius's, pushing against his chest. He doesn't attempt to move it away; instead, the God's fingers wrap around Mobius's hand, almost pulling him closer.

"This is ridiculous." Sylvie snaps. "You're really taking his side?" 

Yes. Absolutely. 100% he is. But he can't say that, it will only make everything worse. 

"It's not a matter of 'taking sides'-" Sylvie doesn't let him finish. 

"Bullshit. Mobius, I've told you how much I've wanted to meet my dad my whole life. You're really not going to support me now that I might finally have a chance?" She looks so betrayed. He knows that this is something she's wanted since she figured out what a dad was as a child, but isn't her safety more important than that?

"It's too dangerous, " he says softly, but instead of calming her down, that seems to make her more angry. 

"Fuck you." Sylvie says quietly but forcefully. She grabs the bag from where she dropped it next to the couch and storms out, stopping when she stands in the open doorway. 

"You're not going to stop me. I'll figure it out myself." She promises before slamming their door shut behind her.

They both jump at the sound and stare at the door for a few moments in dead silence. 

"I have to go."

Loki feels Mobius's hand turn into a fist in the fabric of his shirt and looks down, seeing nothing short of pure fear on Mobius's face. "No."

Their bond groans under the weight of their feelings, and both of them are fully aware of how inescapable the situation has become. 

"I must," Loki says quietly, not meeting his lover's eyes. It sounds like an apology. 

"No." Mobius repeats, no more steady than before. His voice is barely more than a horrified whisper. He's beyond terrified, his hand resting just above the scar that nearly killed Loki the last time he had to leave him. The thought hits like a stake of ice through his chest, cold spreading out through his core. "Loki, you can't."

"She will find a way." Maybe not soon, but eventually. Perhaps that stubbornness is a part of being Jotunn. "She will die, Mobius."

"We just have to let her calm down. If we tell her everything, maybe she'll understand." Mobius doesn't believe the words even as he says them. There's no way to sway Sylvie now that she has her mind set on this. 

Loki gives Mobius a look, half a smile forming at the simple absurdity of the thought. With trembling hands, they pull each other to their chests, clinging tight and desperately. 

"I love you." 

It's a promise, a prayer, a plead that can't be heeded. They press closer, hiding their faces in each other's necks and shoulders, paying no mind to anything but the feeling of their lovers in their arms as tears prick up and start to spill. 

"I love you."

Loki breathes in Mobius, clinging to his lover, desperate to remember this feeling. With an incredible show of strength, he begins to pull away. Mobius tightens his hold, not letting Loki go.

"Don't." Mobius begs, fingers curling in the God's shirt.

"Mobius, I have to-"

"Not today." Mobius says, eyes scrunched shut, face turned away from his lover. "Stay with me tonight." 

Loki doesn't respond for a long time, letting Mobius cling to him. He brings a gentle hand up to his humans back and begins rubbing it.

"Okay." Loki agrees, dipping his head down and presses a against the top of his head. "I'll stay tonight. But tomorrow-"

"We don't need to talk about that." 

It's only mid-day, but they migrate back to their room, touching the entire time. A hand on a waist, legs brushing against eachother, lips on skin. 

Mobius burrows against Loki's chest, letting tears fall. It's not fair. Something's always trying to take them from eachother.

They stay there for the rest of the day, pressed against each other as close as possible and still trying to get closer. 

When sleep takes them they are clutched to each other's chests, breathing still staggered as they drift off. 

The morning comes with soft chimes from Mobius's phone. The light, melodic sound is usually just annoying, but today, it sounds like a dirge. 

He blindly reaches back to shut it off, shoving his face farther into Loki's chest. Maybe if he nuzzles in deep enough, everything will disappear. 

"Morning already?" Loki asks, voice not the slightest tinged with sleep. He cards his fingers through Mobius's hair soothingly, the way he knows makes his lover melt. 

Mobius peers up, catching sight of Loki in all his bed-tussled beauty. There's a gentle upturn of his lips as if he's amused by Mobius's self-smothering attempt. How is he supposed to see that and not kiss him?

Their kisses are soft and sleepy, arms wrapping around bodies loosely as they lean against each other's chests. They do this nearly every day, a comfortable routine that still has yet to get old. Mobius tries not to think about how each of Loki's kisses seems to last just a little longer than usual. 

"Mm, maybe I should call out." Mobius mumbles between kisses, grazing his nose against Loki's. "We could stay in today."

Loki smiles against his lips, stealing one last kiss before untangling from him. "You can't get mugged again, darling."

They move separately, like they always do. Mobius readies for work, and Loki pretends not to watch. He ties Mobius's tie at the door, the same way he undoes it every night when he comes home. 

Typically, they banter about dinner and evening plans, trading little witty one-liners with smiles on their faces. They don't speak today. 

Loki tightens Mobius's tie, gently using it to bring him into a final, lingering kiss.

Mobius wraps his arms around Loki's shoulders and pulls him even closer. They both struggle not to think it's their last one. 

Loki lets go of his lover's tie and takes a step back. With a deep breath, he forces a smile on his face, but sadness and fear easily bleed through. 

"Have a good day at work, beloved." His voice wavers, and Mobius wants nothing more than to pull him close again and hold him. 

Mobius doesn't bother to try and match Loki's face smile. He just nods, trying not to cry. "Yeah."

"I love you," Loki says, and it means so many things. It's an apology, a prayer, and a goodbye. 

"I love you too." So much. So damn much. It takes everything Mobius has not to drop to his knees and beg Loki not to go. They can figure out another way. They can try talking to Sylvie again. Loki doesn't have to go off to his death. 

But takes a step back. And then another. Reaching a hand out behind him, he finds the door handle.

As soon as Mobius is gone and the door shut behind him, Loki closes his eyes. He reaches his magic out to the pathways that twist between the realms. It takes an extremely powerful mage to access these paths, and for the first time ever, Loki wishes he could not.