Archive of Our Own ^beta

Loki found seducing Mobius to be a practical solution. He had done it before—seducing officials for information or other advantages was nothing new. It wasn’t a big deal. He had long since moved past the idea of sex being something noble or exalted. To him, it was just another transaction. In Loki's view, people overestimated sex, but he had learned to exploit the opportunities it provided. He could gain a lot from it, and officials were usually easy prey. They were all starved for a little variety. But Mobius was different. He was smarter, more cunning, and perceptive, and neither sweet words nor the fog of desire clouded his judgment. Moreover, as an analyst and Loki’s specialist, he knew his entire life. The usual, well-practiced methods wouldn’t work here. Still, Loki remained confident he’d get what he wanted. Mobius hid it well, but occasionally, Loki caught a flicker of interest in his eyes. That was something Loki excelled at—spotting the details. So, over the course of a few weeks, Loki worked to lull Mobius’ suspicion until, finally, he got himself invited to the agent’s apartment. There, he made his move. By the time they reached the bed, Loki knew it would be easy. He let Mobius take the lead, ensuring success. But he didn’t expect his plan to backfire.

Mobius’ incomprehensible kindness and attentiveness extended to their sexual encounter, making it different from his other lovers, who had been solely focused on their own pleasure. Even during sex, Mobius was attuned to every movement, doing everything he could to ensure Loki’s enjoyment, making it clear that his pleasure mattered. By the time they got to the heart of it, Loki realized that with each thrust, Mobius wasn’t just penetrating his body deeper but also breaking down the walls he had built around his soul, like a battering ram crashing through his defenses. He was defenseless against these forces, so foreign to him, and as he lay there, completely exposed to Mobius’ goodwill, he helplessly realized that Mobius, unintentionally, was conquering him. Tears blurred his vision.

Mobius stopped.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Mobius whispered. But to Loki, nothing felt okay. How could Mobius have such power over him?

“What do you want?” Mobius asked, concerned.

“More of this,” Loki replied without hesitation, pressing himself even closer to Mobius.

Mobius wasn’t sure what Loki meant, but he could feel how much Loki needed him, and it felt too good to stop. Yet, beyond the haze of ecstasy, familiar doubts started creeping in. He was sinking deeper into Loki, fully exposing his desires and vulnerability. At any moment, Loki could still reject him—or worse, mock him, claiming it was all an act. He looked at Loki, but the surge of emotions, this raw vulnerability—there was no way it could be faked. Loki was just as shaken as he was.

“Say something,” Mobius urged.

“You’re killing me.”

“What do you need?”

“I need more of you.”

And as if Loki drew strength from his own confession, he unexpectedly flipped Mobius over. Now on top, Loki rode him harder and harder, each movement more intense than the last. Where before he had been quiet, now it was as if a dam had burst within him, and he began moaning loudly in pleasure. This, in turn, freed something within Mobius. It wasn’t just the sounds—it was the fact that he had brought these sounds out of Loki.

Loki’s loud moans blended with Mobius’ own sounds of pleasure, both of them approaching their climax. Loki gave a final shudder, spilling onto Mobius before collapsing onto his chest, his release spreading between them.

Mobius, who couldn’t get enough of the sight of Loki riding him, his head thrown back in ecstasy, quickly followed suit. After a few euphoric moments, he regained some clarity. Lovingly, he began to stroke Loki’s head as it rested on his chest, marveling at his tousled hair. God, this really happened. Loki had given himself to him. And not just his body, but his entire self. Mobius was certain of it. This wounded soul had opened up to him and made a connection.

Loki, with his head nestled against Mobius’ collarbone, panted softly. The touch was so comforting that, if he had ever planned on retreating quickly, he now forgot all about it. It didn’t matter anymore. He would indulge in Mobius’ closeness for a bit longer. Tomorrow, with a clear head, he would figure out what to do next. What harm could come from staying a little longer? These few minutes wouldn’t change anything. Yes, he had shown plenty of passion. But that was just an act. Tomorrow, he would pretend nothing had happened. Nothing irreversible had occurred. He had slightly miscalculated, but no lasting damage had been done. Everything would be fine. And Mobius was now in the palm of his hand.

Mobius, for his part, was delighted to see Loki practically melting on top of him, so relaxed and at ease in his arms. He hadn’t jumped up, as Mobius had somewhat feared he might. Would he still be with him tomorrow? Would he let him back in tomorrow? Or was this all just for one night? What had Loki originally wanted? Probably just to ensure his survival. There had been no promises, no declarations. Loki had simply come and overwhelmed him, completely confident in the outcome. How long would this last? Better to enjoy it while it was happening. So Mobius buried himself in Loki’s cascade of hair and let his doubts drift away.

The next morning, Mobius woke to find Loki still half-lying on top of him. A sweet burden, though it made it hard to breathe. How would Loki react when he woke up? If it were up to him, Mobius would keep him in bed forever. But Loki had his own will—one that was as unfathomable as it was magnetic, which was part of why Mobius loved him. What should he do? How could he brace himself for the potential rejection? He didn’t dare move. Who knew? The moment Loki woke up and realized what had happened, he might flee. Mobius was sure that this kind of complete surrender hadn’t been part of Loki’s original plan.

In his sleep, Loki murmured Mobius' name and smiled lazily. Mobius’ heart skipped a beat. As Loki began to fully wake, Mobius' heart involuntarily sped up. This was the moment of truth. Loki looked at him with a warm, sleepy smile, but as he glanced around the room and realized this was real, the smile quickly faded, and his expression darkened. He cautiously looked back at Mobius and started to move, as if to get up.

Before he could fully rise, Mobius instinctively pulled him back.

“Don’t! Please stay with me. This was the best night of my life.”

Loki looked at him for a long time, searching for deception. But when he found none, he cautiously lowered himself back down. Mobius could feel under his hand that Loki's muscles were still tense, that the surrender he had shown last night had vanished. How could he make Loki trust him again, make him open up once more? He could tell him he loved him, but Loki probably wouldn’t believe it. Mobius felt like he had only one way left—to show Loki that he wanted more than just a one-time thing. So, he began stroking him again wherever he could reach.

Loki allowed it, but he didn’t return any of the touches. No matter what Mobius did, Loki remained distant. When Mobius touched Loki’s cock it twitched, but Loki remained as silent as a sphinx.

Despite last night, Loki still didn’t trust him. Maybe he was even more afraid of rejection than Mobius himself. The only thing Mobius could do was open himself up to Loki. Maybe that would prove his own commitment. If Loki rejected him in that moment… if he was rough with him… at least Mobius would know there was no real chance for a future between them.

“I want you inside me,” Mobius whispered, turning over and propping himself up on his elbows to offer himself.

Loki didn’t respond immediately, and the delay was so unsettling that Mobius nearly withdrew the offer, but he knew he couldn’t back down now. He couldn’t let his own fears take control. He knew what they had achieved together last night. He needed to know if it was truly lost. His only chance was to hold firm and prove his trust and loyalty to Loki.

After what felt like an eternity, Loki moved and stroked Mobius’s entrance. When Mobius didn’t pull away, Loki knelt behind him.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Loki asked, his voice flat and devoid of warmth, which didn’t bode well.

“I want you,” Mobius replied firmly, though his voice wavered as Loki’s hand caressed his entrance again.

“And what if I’m rough with you?”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”

Loki didn’t hesitate much longer, entering him with his full length. Mobius wasn’t prepared for how hard the thrust was, and tears sprang to his eyes. So this is what Loki wanted. Rough. The previous night didn’t matter to him. Or maybe it mattered too much, and this was a test of how far Mobius was willing to go for him.

“Wait!” And to his surprise, Loki actually stopped. “You know it can be different.”

“I don’t want it to be different,” Loki replied, and without waiting for a response, he began thrusting hard again. Mobius’ entire body ached. He felt like crying, but he didn’t, because he knew that would give Loki exactly what he wanted—power, and the belief that he was a monster who couldn’t be loved. Loki finished in a few short minutes, leaving without looking back, abandoning Mobius shattered in the bed.

Mobius sat there, crumpled inward, completely crushed. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Should he accept defeat? But he knew—he had seen—that deep down, Loki wasn’t like this. How could he reach him again? One more session like that, and Mobius wouldn’t be able to take it. He had to find another way. B-15 would probably tell him it was time to give up, that all Lokis were monsters, and now he had seen it for himself.

But despite everything, Mobius now believed more strongly than ever in the opposite. The best thing to do was to wait for Loki’s next move.

To his surprise, Loki avoided him. When they did have to interact, it was strictly for work, and Loki’s expression was so closed off that it gave nothing away. Days went by like this. In the loneliness of the evening, Mobius longed for the Loki who had melted into his arms, but he knew it would take time—if it ever happened again.

After a week, the tension between them seemed to ease slightly, but Loki remained distant, and Mobius mirrored that. It wouldn’t do to act like a puppy eager for affection, following Loki around, because Loki would surely take advantage of that. Mobius wanted to be his equal. He wanted a relationship where he wouldn’t have to fear that Loki would stab him in the back. But the way Loki was avoiding him wasn’t a good sign. Maybe it had been a mistake to get involved in the first place, to try. Maybe he had rushed things. Or maybe B-15 had been right all along.

But as the days passed, something changed. At work, Mobius occasionally caught Loki looking at him for longer than necessary or watching him with a thoughtful expression. Mobius never commented on it, never made any hints about it. He knew that if he asked, or God forbid, pressured Loki, it would only push him further away—or, worse, provoke him into hurting him again. And since, apart from these fleeting glances, Mobius saw no other encouraging signs—no matter how hard he looked—after two weeks, he resigned himself to the fact that this was all there would be.

Then, on the evening of the third week, there was a knock on his door, and Loki stood there on the threshold, his expression more inscrutable than ever.

“May I come in?” Loki asked.

Mobius opened the door wider.

“What can I do for you?”

Loki stepped closer, bent down, and kissed him.

Mobius closed the door behind them.

“What exactly does this mean?” Mobius asked, turning to face Loki. He wasn’t going to make it easy for him. The humiliation from three weeks ago still stung.

Loki leaned in for another kiss, but Mobius stopped him firmly.

“You’re famous for your silver tongue. I want to hear it.”

Loki cleared his throat. His confidence wavered for a moment, but then he lifted his head.

“I want sex. With you. Again. Here. It stays between us. And it’s only for the nights. Like strangers who meet for a night. By day…”

“…It’s as if the night never happened?” Mobius finished for him.

Both of them thought back to that one night. Mobius saw a flicker of fear cross Loki’s eyes. So, it was important to this scoundrel, but he was so guarded, so protective of himself and his boundaries, that he would do anything to avoid being exposed. Mobius could work with that.

“Fine. But I have conditions.”

A long silence followed before Loki finally spoke.

“I’m listening.”

“You will never be cruel to me again.”

“You agreed,” Loki defended himself against the unspoken accusation.

“We both know what I agreed to and what I didn’t. If you don’t like my condition, you can leave.”

When Loki just stood there, saying nothing, Mobius stepped over to the door and opened it wide, emphasizing his point.

And there it was again—that wide-eyed, wounded look. Like a frightened child. Mobius finally understood just how deeply and how early Loki’s trust and faith in others had been shattered. How he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, let alone bond with someone. Mobius wished Loki wouldn’t see their relationship as a struggle for dominance.

If only he could connect with the scared, infinitely lonely child inside him—the one who would deny his very existence if Mobius tried to talk to him about it. If he could just tell him that he sees him and, despite everything, maybe even because of that, loves him. If he could get Loki to see and accept that part of himself, with all its pain... Mobius wished he could approach him more gently, but he had to maintain his boundaries, because Loki had already proven that he would walk all over him if he felt threatened—whether genuine or imagined. As soon as even a spark of intimacy appeared, Loki began to defend himself. That moment of surrender three weeks ago had been an accidental slip-up, one Loki hadn’t been prepared for. By now, he had carefully rebuilt all his walls, perhaps even thicker than before.

Mobius thought for a moment. The fact that Loki was here, that he had returned of his own free will, meant that this was important to him. If not Mobius himself, then at least the intimacy he could offer. Loki could get sex anywhere. But he had come back to him. That was progress. Maybe there was hope after all. Mobius closed the door.

“What exactly are you hoping for?” Mobius asked, scrutinizing Loki with a look that was far from friendly. To his surprise, Loki began to squirm. So, he wasn’t as sure of himself as he liked to appear. Good to know.

“I...” Loki began, but the words caught in his throat. He was visibly taken aback by the question. Mobius had thought he would feel some satisfaction from that, but instead, he couldn’t bear to see Loki struggle. He stepped closer and kissed him, firmly but gently. Then he pulled back slightly.

“More of that. No cruelty. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Loki finally answered.

Mobius watched Loki long enough to catch the fleeting relief that passed over his face. The walls were back in place, but Mobius had seen the crack. It was going to be a long, challenging road, he thought, but maybe it would lead somewhere. Mobius wanted to believe it could work.

“Come in. Would you like some dinner?” Mobius asked as he headed toward the kitchen.

“We only agreed to sex,” Loki quickly pointed out.

Mobius froze, as if slapped. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all. He swallowed hard and turned around calmly.

“Sex involves doing things together beforehand. Consider it foreplay.”

They stared at each other. Loki seemed to weigh the situation and the possible consequences. It was clear that he wanted to stay, but he was terrified of any kind of attachment. Mobius could see that now, as clear as day. If he threw him out now, Loki would never come back. He turned away as if he wasn’t waiting for an answer.

“There’s some lasagna left over from yesterday. I think you’ll like it.”

With that, Mobius busied himself in the kitchen, acting as though he didn’t care whether Loki followed him or not.

Eventually, Loki slunk in and sat on one of the barstools.

“I made it myself. I hope you enjoy it. Plates and utensils are over there,” Mobius nodded toward one of the kitchen cabinets, and though Loki seemed reluctant, he eventually got up and fetched what they needed for the meal. Then he sat back down silently, watching as Mobius pulled the dish out of the oven and placed it in front of them.

As they sat across from each other in silence, Mobius ate while Loki merely picked at his food.

“Why are you doing this?” Loki asked suddenly, putting his fork down.

“Why do you think I’m doing it?”

Silence. Then, Loki said quietly, “I don’t know.”

Mobius studied Loki’s distant, uncertain figure.

“You must have some idea.”

Loki was silent for so long that Mobius thought he wasn’t going to answer, or worse, that he would leave again. But Loki stayed and eventually spoke.

“If I were you, I’d say you’re trying to lull me into a false sense of security.”

“About what?”

“That you're hiding more than you're letting on.”

“I don’t understand,” Mobius frowned.

Loki stared at him, then pushed his plate aside. His gaze became more determined.

“Now that the foreplay is over, can we finally get to the sex?” he asked, standing up expectantly.

Mobius realized that he wouldn’t get any further with Loki tonight. The fact that Loki had stayed was already a small miracle. Mobius stood as well.

“But no cruelty.”

“I promise,” Loki spoke with such sincerity and conviction that Mobius believed him.

They went to the bedroom. They made love. Loki was reserved and cautious. He took Mobius again but was careful this time, making sure it felt good for him too. After they both climaxed, Loki didn’t stay long. But at least he didn’t rush out without a word like the last time.

Mobius’ heart ached seeing the empty side of the bed. It had felt so good waking up with Loki beside him before. But maybe that day would come again. He just had to wait. In the meantime, he would cherish whatever moments Loki allowed him. And he would give as much as Loki could accept. Loki would come back. He needed this. He needed Mobius. That thought gave Mobius comfort and strength.

The next day at work, Loki gave no hint about the previous night, and he wasn’t any warmer toward Mobius. He looked at him like he did any other coworker. Mobius tried not to show how much Loki’s indifference hurt him—after all, Loki hadn’t promised anything else, and Mobius had agreed to it. Perhaps, with time, that too would change.

That evening, Loki knocked on his door again. As soon as Mobius opened it, Loki pounced on him. There was no chance for any personal conversation—Loki came, saw, and conquered. Then he left. The sex was good—Mobius had to admit that—but they hadn’t moved forward at all.

On the third night, when Loki knocked again, Mobius called out cheerfully, “It’s open!”

Loki entered to find a beautifully set table waiting for him. Mobius feared Loki’s angry glare meant he might upend the whole table, or worse, storm out without a word. But that didn’t happen. Loki sat down, composed, and asked with slight sarcasm, “What have you prepared, darling? I hope the meat is tender.”

As Mobius took the dish out of the oven, he felt as though he’d been doused in cold water, and he almost dropped the pan. He should have known a nicely set table wouldn’t impress Loki. Instead, he had walked right into a match. He had to pull himself together. He couldn’t show that he was hurt. A gauntlet had been thrown, and he had to pick it up, or there was no chance of winning Loki’s trust.

“I’ve prepared something simple. I hope you like it, kitty,” he said, placing the steaming moussaka in front of Loki, all the while carefully watching for his reaction.
Loki looked at him with a mixture of acknowledgment and surprise. Then he served himself, took a bite, and clicked his tongue in approval.

“It’s really good. Nice to see you excel at more than just the bedroom.”

Mobius could have taken that as an insult, but instead, he thought. So, Loki wanted to play. To test their strength. If that’s how he softened up...

“I’m glad I could pleasantly surprise you, darling,” he replied.

Loki just raised an eyebrow, but to Mobius’ relief and delight, he really began to eat. After dinner, as Mobius started clearing the table, Loki grabbed his hand, pulled him closer, and whispered hotly into his ear, “The dishes can wait, darling. There are more important matters to attend to.”

Mobius almost melted at the promise vibrating in Loki’s voice, and without another thought, he yielded to the unspoken command. He was not disappointed.

On the fourth night, the pattern repeated. Loki came, got what he wanted, and Mobius couldn’t complain, because Loki did nothing Mobius hadn’t agreed to, and he made sure Mobius enjoyed it as well. And so it went, day after day. By the end of two weeks, as Mobius summed up the results in his mind, he concluded that his previous tactics had not worked. Somehow, he needed to get closer to Loki, but he didn’t know how.
The dinners seemed to be the most effective, so Mobius continued cooking for him every night. Loki ate everything he was served, but as soon as they finished eating, he headed straight for the bedroom and took control of the night. He always dictated what would happen and how, which invariably ended with him fucking Mobius, who, if he were to be honest with himself, wouldn't have had any problem with this whatsoever, if only he could feel they were equals in the process.

But because that sense of equality never came, Mobius knew something had to shift.

So, Mobius made up his mind. One evening, after dinner, just before Loki could steer them toward the bedroom, Mobius quickly announced, “I want to talk about something before we go any further.”

“What is it?” Loki sat back cautiously.

“I’d like to change the terms a little.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze waited expectantly.

“We could switch... if you’re okay with that.”

Mobius saw a flicker of real panic cross Loki’s face before it was quickly masked by a sharp, deep stab.

“Mobius, I don’t think you’re capable of...”

“You’ve enjoyed it before,” Mobius interrupted.

The mask of arrogance fell away completely, and once again, there was that wounded, boyish look. Mobius wanted to pull him close and comfort him, but instead, before the mask could slip back into place, Mobius leaned forward and hurriedly said:

“I wouldn’t force anything on you. But I think I deserve a chance. I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want.”

“I don’t know, Mobius…”

Mobius could tell Loki wasn’t just pretending to hesitate to extract some advantage—he had real reservations. But Mobius was determined to make a change, even if it meant new compromises. So he cut Loki off again before he could end the conversation.

“In return, when it’s your turn, you can be rougher with me.”

Loki's eyes flickered, as if sensing an opportunity. He didn’t hesitate any longer.

“Agreed. Can we start now?”

Mobius swallowed hard. Already? Maybe he hadn’t thought this through carefully enough if Loki agreed so quickly. But—he reasoned further—if Loki had complete control over him, maybe that would put him at ease. Mobius didn’t have any other ideas.

“All right.”

What was Loki planning for him? Mobius didn’t have to wait long to find out. Loki made him his sex slave. The only thing missing was a collar around his neck. But Mobius gave in to everything, serving Loki completely, because he had to admit it felt good to do it for him. It felt good to be submissive. And Mobius knew that tomorrow, the roles would be reversed. He trusted Loki’s promise.

But he ended up disappointed. The next day, for the first time in weeks, Loki didn’t come to him. He must have been scared, Mobius thought, and tried to be patient. Loki couldn’t hide from him forever. Besides, they’d see each other at work tomorrow. He wouldn’t reproach Loki—in fact, he would be kinder to him than usual. Everything would be fine, Mobius reassured himself.

But he was disappointed again, because the following day, Loki didn’t show up at the office either. It was then that anger started to simmer in Mobius. He had thought Loki was more confident than that, but to avoid trouble, he reported that Loki was ill. But on the third day, when Loki was still absent from both the office and his home, Mobius grew furious and went to him in person, setting aside all reason as he pounded on Loki’s door.

“Loki, open up right now! I know you’re in there! Do you hear me?” He paused to listen. He heard movement. He banged on the door again. “I’m not leaving until you let me in!” he shouted.

He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t a deathly pale Loki in pajamas opening the door.

“Are you okay?” Mobius asked, his anger forgotten as concern flared. 

“No, I’m not okay,” Loki replied. “Please leave.”

“I have no intention of leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?” Mobius asked, and when Loki tried to shut him out, Mobius wouldn’t let him. Inside, the room was in complete disarray, as if it had been wrecked in a fit of rage, and Loki hadn’t had the strength to clean up.

“Mobius, I can’t give you what you want. It’s better if you go,” Loki said weakly.

Mobius suspected that he wasn’t just talking about sex.

“You’re sick and talking nonsense. I’m staying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone. Least of all you,” Loki said coldly.

Mobius resisted the urge to take the insult personally and immediately walk out. Loki couldn’t be that sick if he still had the energy to recognize Mobius’ weak spots and knew exactly where to hit him. His own ego couldn’t take much more. But he wasn’t about to let Loki shake him off.

“I’m not staying for that. But as your superior, it’s my duty to ensure your safety, and that includes your health.” He placed a hand on Loki’s forehead, which felt burning hot. “Have you taken your temperature?”

“No, I haven’t…”

Loki was clearly flustered that his insult hadn’t had the desired effect and that Mobius was still there, pushing past him and invading his personal space.

“Every apartment comes with a medical kit. I’ll find it. You go lie down,” Mobius ordered, leaving no room for argument.

Loki wanted to protest, but he didn’t have the strength. He had grown weak. Weak because of Mobius, and he no longer had the energy to resist him. He lay down on his bed, hoping that maybe Mobius would leave him alone and go away.

Then he wouldn’t have to deal with these confusing feelings. Though he missed Mobius’ touch.

Loki had thought that by playing by his own rules, he could have it all: the emotional security of keeping enough distance, and the sex with Mobius. Because it had been too good with him to just give it up. And although convincing Mobius hadn’t been easy without the cooperation he had hoped for, after some effort, Mobius eventually agreed to his terms, and for a while, things seemed to go smoothly. Mobius, as Loki had expected, occasionally tried things, but nothing Loki couldn’t fend off. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stick to his own rules—especially the first and most important one: leaving as quickly as possible after getting what he wanted. It was getting harder and harder to pull himself out of Mobius’ bed after each encounter. Yes, encounter. Loki refused to call it making love. That would suggest something emotional and deep, an intimate connection between the two of them. He didn’t want any of that—just the safety of solitude. Where no one could reach his emotions, where he wouldn’t miss anyone, and no one would miss him. This was only about the sex. Mobius gave, and Loki took. In return, Mobius got him, too.

And then Mobius had come up with that outrageous request. Loki hadn’t wanted to agree. But Mobius had been willing to make concessions for it, and the temptation was too strong.

But when Loki returned to his apartment that day and thought about how he would have to surrender himself completely to Mobius the next day—the way Mobius had done for him—the mere thought made him break out in a cold sweat.

He had become ill. He, who had never been sick before. He was sick with indecision. He didn’t dare face Mobius. He didn’t have the courage to come clean. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Mobius it was over. He should have known getting rid of Mobius wouldn’t be that simple. He had always sensed that Mobius was after more than what he let on. He had hidden it well, skillfully played his cards, but Loki had always felt that this meant more to Mobius. Maybe, deep down, he had wanted that. For someone to finally care enough about him to fight for him. For someone not to give up on him, but to keep trying, so that Loki could finally believe he really was important to someone.

And now, Mobius was here. Shouldn’t Loki be glad?

As Mobius busied himself around him, Loki felt both incredibly grateful and incredibly terrified. What had he gotten himself into? His life had been so much simpler without Mobius. Why was he doing this? Why was he doing all of this for him? Could he really be that important to Mobius? Loki didn’t dare believe it. He had spent much of his life trying to win people’s love, only to be let down time and time again. Why would Mobius be any different?

Although he had treated him so cruelly the morning after their first night together, Mobius still chose to talk to him afterwards. He had even made him dinner after they made their agreement. Over and over, Mobius had welcomed him back. But surely that was just because Mobius wanted to indulge in Loki's renowned talents in bed. After all, none of Loki’s lovers had ever complained about that. They had only ever accused him of being selfish, unapproachable, and distant. As if they hadn’t been selfish and distant with him.

But Mobius had always been different. From the very beginning, Mobius had treated Loki as an equal. He had been kind to him. He had cared about Loki's opinion. He had stood up for him. Maybe Mobius really did care. How could Loki know for sure?

There was nothing to know. It was better if he sent Mobius away. Then he would be safe.

But now that Mobius was here, Loki could no longer lie to himself. He longed to be with Mobius, yearning for the warmth and kindness that flowed from him, wishing for that light to shine solely upon him. He longed, for once, to matter to someone—to be the center of someone's universe. At times, Mobius gazed at him as if he held that significance. Maybe he would look at him like that more often if Loki didn’t always keep him at arm’s length.

Suddenly, it became desperately urgent for Loki to find out the truth.

As Mobius bent over him with a thermometer in hand, Loki grabbed his arm tightly, his eyes feverishly searching Mobius’ face, and asked the question.

“Mobius, I need to know! Do you love me?”

Mobius thought he must have misheard. Or, if he hadn’t, then Loki must be delirious. And if neither of those things were true, then Loki was simply too weak to defend himself, leaving his vulnerability exposed without thinking. Mobius couldn’t take advantage of this momentary defenselessness. He looked at Loki’s haggard face. Of course he loved him. He had always loved him. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t protect himself from Loki. If Mobius admitted it now, Loki could use it against him later. He had to choose his words carefully. Leaning closer, he gently stroked Loki’s face.

“You’ve always been important to me. That’s why I’m here.”

“Not just for the sex?”

“Not just for the sex.”

Loki seemed satisfied with this answer. He looked at Mobius like a frightened child, one who couldn’t believe he had been given the gift he had always longed for, and was terrified it would be snatched away. Mobius stroked his face again.

“Can I do anything else for you?”

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, then whispered, “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Mobius reached for a chair, but when Loki saw, he weakly, almost mournfully, pleaded, “Not there! Here.” He pointed to the empty space beside him on the bed.

Mobius took off his shoes and jacket, then lifted the blanket and climbed in next to Loki. As soon as he tentatively placed a hand on Loki, the god pressed his entire body against him, as if he had been waiting for this signal the whole time.

“It feels so good to have you here with me,” Loki whispered, his voice barely audible.

No more words were exchanged between them. Mobius didn’t dare say anything, just held Loki even tighter. He didn’t know how long this fragile, possibly fleeting closeness would last, and he was afraid to fully give himself over to it. He couldn’t bear another rejection.

They both fell asleep. In the middle of the night, Loki awoke from a dream. He had dreamt of Mobius leaving him, no matter how hard he ran after him or how loudly he called his name—he hadn't even looked back.

As he woke up and felt Mobius’ warmth beside him, heard his steady breathing close by, and felt his bare arm resting on his shoulder, Loki began to shake off the terror from the dream. Mobius was here. He hadn’t left. He had said Loki was important to him. He wanted Loki. At least, that’s what he had said on that first night. That he wanted to be with him.

Maybe he had always wanted to be with him, but had kept his distance to protect himself from Loki’s thorns. That’s what he had been talking about in veiled language a few weeks ago when they had worked together in a rose garden, and Mobius had rambled on about different types of roses. At the time, Loki hadn’t understood what Mobius was getting at or what it had to do with their mission, but now it made sense. And how many times had Loki pricked him? Sometimes, he had driven his thorns deep into Mobius. And yet, Mobius was still here.

Maybe Loki really was important to him. The thought started to soothe him, and slowly, a peace settled over him that he had never known before. He realized how lonely he had always been, and the unfamiliar warmth that now replaced it brought tears to his eyes. The tears kept coming, spilling down his cheeks in the darkness.

“Hey, Loki, are you okay?” Mobius asked sleepily.

“I’m fine. Just go back to sleep,” Loki replied, his face wet with tears, but he pressed himself even closer to Mobius. If belonging to someone felt this good, he never wanted to be alone again.

The next morning, Loki woke up with a clear head. When he turned his head, he saw that he wasn’t alone. Mobius was still lying beside him.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Mobius greeted him cheerfully.

“Mobius!”

Mobius froze for a moment. Loki’s eyes were clear, but he didn’t seem distant. Maybe Mobius had misjudged the situation. Maybe he had gone too far.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“You stayed with me.” Loki’s eyes lit up.

Mobius looked at him in surprise, then smiled.

“Where else would I be?”

Loki looked down shyly, then at the blanket. He couldn’t bring himself to say what was on his mind. He was afraid the magic would break, that Mobius would leave after all. But maybe it was time to face that possibility.

“Yesterday, you said something about…,” Loki took a deep breath, “…about me being important to you.”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything.”

Loki fidgeted with the seam of the blanket for a moment before blurting out, “You’re important to me too.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Loki barely dared to look up.

“How did you know?”

Mobius paused for a moment, then smiled again.

“I’ve been watching you. I noticed the small signs.”

“I didn’t give any signs,” Loki protested defiantly.

“Oh, but you did. You just didn’t make it easy for me.”

Loki fell silent, his brow furrowing. Then, still looking down at the blanket, he spoke again.

“When you mentioned the roses, how beautiful they are but how some varieties resist cultivation, and how the wild ones grow thorns to protect themselves, but that doesn’t diminish their value…” Loki glanced up but quickly looked away again when he saw the tenderness in Mobius’ gaze. “…so, you were talking about me?”

“I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

“I might always have thorns.”

“Then I’ll just touch you where there aren’t any.”

“You’re making light of it, but I’m serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

Mobius looked at him, and their gazes met—Loki’s eyes filled with fear and sadness. Mobius wished he could take that sadness away.

“Loki! I’ve already told you. I know your whole life. I’ve seen the worst of it. I know why you did everything you did. And despite all of that, I accept you and love you. You just have to believe it. Do you believe me?”

For the first time, Loki held Mobius’ gaze for a long time.  In his unguarded eyes, which Mobius had longed to see, there was everything Loki had so carefully hidden before—the hunger for love, the yearning, the fear of rejection.

“Kiss me,” Loki asked.

Mobius kissed him softly, gently. Loki felt tears welling up again. Was this going to happen every time? He pulled away from Mobius’ lips just so he could snuggle into his embrace.

“My dear, frightened little kitty! There’s no more beautiful rose in the garden than you,” Mobius whispered in his ear.

And for the first time in his life, the little boy inside Loki believed it might be true. He nestled contentedly into Mobius’ arms, wanting to savor every moment. Maybe, in the not-too-distant future, he would even let Mobius take him again. Mobius wanted that. And so did he. He just needed a little more time. But Mobius was patient. He would wait. He wouldn’t leave, because he loved him. The thought made the warmth and peace inside Loki spread even further. For now, he felt sure that he wasn’t alone anymore, not only physically, but in every way that mattered. He finally felt at home.