Chapter Text
Mobius wakes up with Loki—as Mischief still—curled up even further into his torso, his small and sleek-furred head tucked neatly into the crook of his shoulder, breathing out in soft puffs of air through his dark brown nose.
Mobius strokes Mischief’s soft fur and kisses the top of his head. “Hey, honey, it’s time to get up,” he whispers. Mischief picks up his head languidly, not in any rush as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes and smacks his mouth, an extra adorable sight in his feline form.
“I know you’re probably not pumped to get up but we don’t want to be too late to celebrate your brother,” Mobius says with a smile. “I’d rather snuggle up all night too but we’ve got places to be.”
Mischief sighs but gives a tiny nod. He looks briefly at Mobius and gives him a tiny lick on the nose before a swath of green envelopes him and a barely clothed Loki sits in his place, smiling slyly while still draped across Mobius’ body, his arms loosely hugging his neck.
“You’d rather be snuggled up with me all night, hmm?” Loki purrs.
Mobius chuckles and rolls his eyes fondly. “Is that surprising to you?”
“No, I just like hearing you say it,” Loki says with a wild grin.
“I’ll tell you how much I enjoy your company and your love every hour if I need to.”
“Oh, you’re the sap now,” Loki says, nuzzling his nose into Mobius’ neck once again, just now with it being a lot less velvety and damp.
“Always,” Mobius nods sagely, but with a smile on his face. He nudges Loki gently and they begrudgingly extract themselves from each other and stand to stretch.
Loki hums and approaches his closet, his sleek slippers padding against the floor.
“I feel… I have an idea for an outfit but I’m not sure…” Loki hums, half to himself and half out loud.
“Oh yeah? Let’s see it.”
Loki bites his lip and lets magic wash over him in the form of an outfit change, leaving him in a long silky dress with shimmering fabric that catches the light, emerald green of course, with a cowl neck accentuating his still toned collarbones and shoulders.
Loki turns around and holds out his arms in a questioning gesture. “What do we think?” Loki asks. There is a warm smile on his face but still a hint of doubt in his eyes. Mobius knows that even if typically he is proud of these facets of himself, it’s still a vulnerable thing. “I don’t know if you’re… attracted to fully feminine people? I know I’ve worn a few things that are more feminine, but never like this. I mean I’m still me, but…” Loki trails off with a slight shrug.
Mobius steps towards Loki and places firm hands on the hips that Loki has slightly adjusted to fit the curves of the dress, and he meets his questioning eyes. “I’m attracted to all sorts, but most importantly I’m attracted to you. And you look absolutely gorgeous.”
Loki’s smile breaks out of its nervous tightness, like a beam of light. “Good to know,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to Mobius’ forehead, holding his biceps lightly as he leans in.
Loki keeps his hands on Mobius’ shoulders and gives him a sly smile, his brow raised coyly. “Now, I believe I have some equally amazing outfits for you to try so you can match my… gorgeous self.” Loki is no stranger to being praised for his beauty, but he clearly gets a tickle out of being praised by Mobius in particular.
Loki waves his hand loosely as magic gathers at his fingertips. Mobius has to rapidly adjust to the strange (though not unpleasant) feeling of magic washing over him as Loki plays with his outfits, poofing individual pieces as well as entire ensembles onto his body. He cycles through multiple options—first, a sleek black suit that is neat and makes Mobius look longer and skinnier, but Loki deems that too simple and plain. He also tries full Asgardian robes, with a satin tunic, flowing pants, and a velvet cape in a colorful range of rich sapphire blue and green hues, and though he hums in satisfaction seeing Mobius in one of his cultural outfits, he finds it too heavy for Mobius’ body, wanting to see more of him rather than him being sheltered away under layers of fabric, no matter how luxurious the fabric may be. Finally, he tries a fitted yet still structured three-piece suit, colored a dark forest green with subtle pinstripes that pop in the right lighting. Loki forgoes magic to do up the single tortoiseshell button with deft fingers, securing the jacket in place and creating a deep vee shape that nips his waist and highlights the solid breadth of his shoulders, making Mobius feel like he’s standing with a much more regal stance, something he’s grateful to have the help with. Loki stands back and admires him, making Mobius blush despite everything, having such adoring eyes turned on him, drinking him in. Mobius runs a hand down his vest—no, waistcoat, as Loki had insisted when Mobius first commented— feeling the texture of the green on green brocade, ornate leaves and vines stitched neatly across the surface.
“Wow, Loki,” Mobius murmurs, smoothing down his outfit. “I know I’ve seen you perform much more powerful magic but this is really something, making me clean up so well!”
“Nonsense, I may provide the outfit but none of your beauty comes from my magic, that’s all you,” Loki insists, reaching forward and gently adjusting the knot on Mobius’ tie, a fond smile tugging at his lips.
Mobius shakes his head awkwardly, feeling the blush creep higher up his cheeks.
Loki reaches up and cradles Mobius’ now flaming cheek. “You’re extra adorable when you're this flustered, darling,” Loki purrs. “Now I feel that it’s my job for the night to keep that blush going as much as possible.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Mobius sighs, but there is no hint of anger, just a flustered acceptance.
“Let’s just see,” Loki winks, and Mobius hopes he knows that he’s just proving his point. “Shall we go show ourselves?”
“As long as you stay with me.” Mobius says, holding out his arm to Loki. Loki grins and loops his slender arm though Mobius’, tucking himself in close.
“I wouldn’t dare be anywhere else,” Loki murmurs.
If Mobius thought the regular appearance of Asgard was magnificent and opulent, he could have never been prepared for the state of it when decorated for celebration. The room is already a brilliant cacophony of gold and bronze, but is now decorated in drapes in many shades of red, with jewels and other shining trophies adorning many of the surfaces and walls. Large bouquets top off each table, and the one on the front table is so massive that Mobius isn’t sure how it is staying up. Loki leans in to tell him (rather proudly, Mobius notes with a fond twinge in his belly) that the flowers all came from his mother’s garden, so Mobius suspects perhaps some magic is at play.
Loki continues to keep his arm looped with Mobius’ and Mobius feels all at once entirely alight with warmth and entirely unworthy of the joyous attention Loki gives him. They are surrounded on all sides with beautiful people, royalty from lands Mobius doesn’t even know of, some who are literal gods, and Mobius can’t help but feel out of place. But Loki never strays from his side, never hides him or avoids the gaze of anyone who looks at them. In fact, Loki often nudges closer or adjusts to be holding more firmly to Mobius, making it clear there is no accident of them being near each other. Loki is proud to be with him, and that’s sure something.
“How do you do this all of the time?” Mobius whispers.
“Do what?”
“Be comfortable in a room full of people, all looking at you and expecting things of you… how do you have such command of a space to feel okay existing in it?”
Loki shrugs with an almost wry sort of smile. “I’m not sure. I’ve never much felt like I have , not with Thor around. You want to talk about commanding a room, he’s the one to talk to,” Loki says softly. “I used to be bitter about it, I’d overcompensate with flirting and teasing and whatever other attention I could get, following that old saying of ‘any attention is good attention’ even at the cost of my dignity or affection.”
Mobius presses closer to Loki, if such a thing is possible with how close they’d already been.
“I don’t feel the need to do that anymore. So, now I have the practice of experience being around groups like this but now without all the fear… thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me? I’m about to sweat through my suit.”
Loki chuckles. “Yes, you. Sweaty and nervous or not, you give off much more calm than you give yourself credit for. You just being here makes me feel more open, like I can just… be.”
Mobius feels the flush from earlier returning, his cheeks heating up. It’s not like Loki is usually shy with his compliments but Mobius is still adjusting to being on the receiving end of such affection, rather than just being the one giving it out.
“Well then, glad to be of service, then.” Mobius pretends to preen to maintain an air of composure even as he melts inside.
Loki simply grins and adjusts his hold on Mobius’ arm, giving him a gentle squeeze from where he loops his own arms through, turning briefly to press a chaste kiss to his shoulder.
After they make their way through the great hall, properly mingling with all of the people who vie for Loki’s attention, Loki leads them to the large table at the front center of the hall. A large seat, just down the large steps where the throne sits, is labeled for Thor, with seats all around for the royal family and guests. Mobius feels another wash of deep and utter unbelonging, but gives Loki a squeeze and feels him squeeze back in response and he feels just that much better. Loki wants him here, that’s enough.
Loki mingles nearby until he catches Thor’s eye and lights up, approaching him with Mobius still practically attached to him.
“Brother, how are you feeling? The big day is very nearly here!” Loki grins widely and separates from Mobius just long enough to place his hands on Thor’s broad shoulders.
“It’s wonderful. I never would have thought it before, in my hubris, but it’s good it’s happening now instead of in the past. I wasn’t ready.” Thor stands a bit taller. “But now I get to celebrate with all of my family in a much happier place, and with my own love.”
Loki smiles, and Mobius can tell it’s real, with the way slight tears shimmer in the corners. It fills Mobius with a sense of pride, the way Loki is allowing himself to be so open, when Mobius knows that being perceived as nothing more than a liar with no hope of sincerity is one of those fears that gnaws in Loki’s stomach constantly. Mobius has heard all of the tales of jealousy and rage and heartbreak between these two, but Mobius knows that for all of Loki’s pain before, while Loki still may struggle, he doesn’t hold the same resentment that had once been brewing for Thor. Now, the pride and well wishes are genuine.
“Your partner will be here soon, then?” Loki asks, a gentle tilt to his head.
“She was unable to arrange her work to be here for the feast but will be joining us for the coronation tomorrow, yes,” Thor smiles warmly, his eyes drifting off momentarily in a way that Mobius recognizes, the contented gaze of being absolutely smitten. “I can’t wait for you to meet her, it’s only fair now that I’ve met your Mobius.”
“I’m sure she’s wonderful, she seems to make you so happy,” Loki says.
“She does,” Thor agrees, a wistful smile on his face. “You know, Loki, I’m proud of you.”
Loki flushes softly but recovers rather quickly. “Isn’t that my line, tonight?”
“The feeling can be mutual. I’m proud of your openness, your love on display. I admit I feared you’d convinced yourself you always had to be unhappy.”
Loki swallows heavily and Mobius can feel him tense slightly. Mobius knows Thor has hit a rather sensitive spot, not one that causes anger but one that is so accurate Loki can’t hide from it.
“I hope you don’t believe me to be speaking ill of you, brother,” Thor adds, reaching out and dropping a large hand onto Loki’s shoulder. “I simply mean that I know you were hurt and angry about so much, especially more recently… that you felt unworthy… but I just hope you know you are worthy. You always have been, but now it feels you know that.”
Mobius wonders if Loki may burst into flames, the way his face heats up. Mobius feels him squirm slightly but Loki doesn’t pull from his hold.
“I… thank you, brother,” Loki says softly. “I have been changed, for the better.”
“I know the feeling. It’s wonderful, I’m glad we both get to know this joy.”
While Loki basks in the terrifyingly open kindness, finding his bearings, Thor takes one of Mobius’ hands in both of his own.
“Mobius, thank you for bringing such light and joy to my brother. It’s everything I ever hoped for him, to see my little brother so loved and cherished is important to me, thank you.”
Now it’s Mobius’ turn to flush. “No thanks needed, I feel like I’m the lucky one. He’s made me so incredibly happy, so if I make him half as happy as he makes me I think I’m doing something right.”
Thor simply grins widely as he gently drops Mobius’ hands.
“I must go speak to father to make sure we’re ready to start. I’ll see you in a few moments, you two.”
Loki nods shakily as Thor walks away.
Loki nearly immediately turns to face Mobius, a hand still on his arm but otherwise unlooped from him. He takes his free hand and cradles Mobius’ cheek, smiling so warmly that now Mobius thinks he might melt. Before Mobius can open his mouth, Loki has surged forward to capture him in a kiss, unyielding. Loki tangles his fingers in the fluffy ends of Mobius’ hair, and Mobius feels Loki smile against his lips.
Loki pulls away from the kiss, but presses a few quick kisses to Mobius’ jaw and cheek before fully stepping back.
“Love you too,” Mobius whispers, while trying to catch his breath, because that’s what he knows Loki is trying to say with that kiss.
Loki nods softly and presses one more chaste kiss to his lips. He knows Loki is overwhelmed, even if in a good way, so right now it’s easier to speak with touch, in some ways.
Loki sighs softly, a pleased smile on his face, and returns to holding on to Mobius’ arm. With a deep breath and a fond glance at Mobius, he asks “shall we go get our seats?”
Mobius nods and lets Loki lead the way. Loki ascends the short staircase and finds his seat, to Thor’s right at the end of the long table. Mobius takes a seat next to him, feeling dwarfed by the large ornate chair that he is directed to, though it is rather comfy.
Loki sits at his side in a golden chair with intricate swirls that taper into snakes, with green jewels accenting it. Loki’s hand finds his thigh under the table and rests there, giving him a slight squeeze.
Odin stands sternly near the throne, and as he clears his throat the room quiets almost immediately. It’s a power Mobius sort of wishes he had for his classroom, though he knows he doesn’t have the raw enigmatic coldness that Odin seems to give off in order to maintain such sudden rapt attention.
“Welcome, people of Asgard. Friends, family, visitors from across the realms, we are all gathered here to celebrate the passing of the throne,” Odin speaks evenly, remaining impossible to read. “My firstborn son, finally ready to take his rightful place. Tomorrow, we will crown him, but tonight we will feast in his honor. Please, to all of our guests, eat and drink freely tonight, do not hold back.”
With that, and a final nod from Odin, the noise in the room picks up again as all of the tables below them begin talking and laughing and feasting.
Mobius looks down at the crowd and then around the head table, with only around 15 seats of some of the most important people in Asgard. He still can’t shake this feeling of a deep lack of belonging here, even with Loki wanting him here… he feels he wouldn’t even fit in with the crowd below, let alone up here with royalty and the warriors that defend this entire realm. This is no ordinary dinner party, where he can show up with some homemade Mac and cheese or a modest bottle of wine and blend in with every other guest. Here he is a so-called distinguished guest, the partner of one of the princes. He’s not even the only partner of an important person here, but still feels like there is an ugly spotlight on him in particular, as a bland mortal man playing pretend.
Loki must feel him tensing below his hand, because he smooths it gently up and down his leg. “Hey, love, take a breath,” Loki whispers, leaning in slightly. “We’ve got this.”
Mobius manages a soft sigh. Yes, we. This is not Mobius fighting alone to not feel out of his element or Loki fighting alone to garner approval or stay afloat. This is both of them, together, finding strength in each other.
“I know. Sorry.” Mobius nods.
“Don’t apologize. I understand your fear, believe me. But it’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” Mobius agrees, managing a shaky smile.
Frigga leans forward slightly from her spot across the table, giving Mobius a soft smile. “Mobius, I feel that I haven’t properly been able to get to know you yet, so please, tell me about yourself.”
It’s as if she's aware of Mobius’ fears (and based on what Loki has told him about her abilities, perhaps she is), and is throwing him a soft ball. Sharing casual stories and chatting up parents around a dinner table is an area Mobius is more comfortable in, so he lets himself pretend that’s all this is. Just a relaxed dinner with his partner’s family. Totally not more high stakes and terrifying.
“Well, I’m a teacher, that’s most of what I do. I teach middle school history, and they keep me on my toes! When I’m off of work, I’m mostly just reading, I always like to be learning, and sometimes I garden or cook but I’m not particularly skilled at either. I’d say I’d be considered kind of boring, at least until I met Loki, he helps me find some more interesting things to do, broadens my horizons and all that, though he’s more than content to just sit and read with me too,” Mobius says, giving Loki a look that comes off so fond that Loki blushes and Frigga smiles wider.
“Your time teaching certainly must have helped you when getting to know my child,” Frigga says with a knowing look at Loki. “You want to speak about keeping you on your toes…”
Loki shrugs rather sheepishly though a smile still remains on his face. “Mobius has only seen the half of it, I truly don’t know how you have tolerated my antics for so long, mother.”
“You mean you haven’t turned his drinks into snakes or made everyone at a gathering look like a copy of you?” Frigga gives him a glance as she takes a long, smooth drink, but her mouth forms a smile over the lip of her glass.
“Of course not. I can’t repeat the same tricks, they’d get stale for me,” Loki replies coyly.
“Ah of course, how could I forget,” Frigga chuckles.
“I certainly wonder, as tricks seem to be his fallback,” Odin pipes up, his voice smooth and casual, but cuttingly sharp in its own way.
Mobius finds himself frozen, much as he had been with Dean harassing them. Dean and Odin could not be more different in demeanor, but in practice there are plenty of similarities. They both go for the deepest digs and comments with the most casual tones, acting as if there is nothing wrong with what they’re saying, even as their words drip with cruelty.
Mobius sees Loki swallow, his throat bobbing slowly. Even Frigga pauses, but does not speak. Mobius can tell she is assessing, always ready but never one to strike without thinking.
“Yes, well, my skills were certainly useful against the Sand Devils, most recently. As I recall we were cornered until I relied on a diversion to get us out of trouble,” Loki replies coolly. There is a chilling calm smoothed across his face, but Mobius knows better. He has learned Loki’s tells, seen the way the façade is imperfect if you’re willing to look, and he can see those cracks now, clear as day, and he aches for him.
“Of course, the tricks have their uses, sometimes,” Odin says in return. Mobius finds himself and reaches quietly under the table to lace his fingers with Loki’s, giving a tight squeeze. “You mustn't rely on them, is all.”
In tandem with recovering from his shock at Odin’s cruel brazenness, Mobius finds something new swirling inside him– a deep, raw anger.
It’s not entirely unfamiliar, he’s felt this rush of disgust at people on Loki’s behalf before, towards endless people from Loki’s past, towards Dean, and even towards Odin himself as Loki told him stories of how Odin treated him, but never with Odin right here, speaking to Loki as if his sole purpose is to be degraded. Mobius can’t fathom being so blatantly unkind to one’s own child in any way ever, but certainly not now , interrupting sweet banter with Loki and his mother to make Loki feel less than. He supposes maybe Odin is still bitter about the fights and chaos that had sprung up after Loki’s heritage had been revealed, maybe even feeling guilty and lashing out, but for any number of explanations it doesn’t make that gnawing anger fade. Perhaps Odin should have thought of that before allowing that secret to fester as long as it did, tainting Loki’s perspective with underhanded digs that shaped how he felt about himself.
Frigga clears her throat, soft but firm. She sends a quick glance Odin’s way, just brief enough to not be noticed if one wasn’t staring. “Mobius, you said you enjoy reading, has Loki shown you our library yet?”
Mobius forces himself to tamp down that bristling anger, focusing back on Frigga. “No, not yet, but I’d love to check it out, it sounds great.”
“After dinner, perhaps?” Loki whispers, seemingly having to come back to himself as well. As he does, he gives a soft smile to Mobius, meeting his eyes. Mobius searches them, finding nothing but calm, even if it may be forced.
Mobius nods. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Mobius, have you ever visited New Mexico?” Thor pipes up. He’d avoided the tense conflict from moments prior by talking to Sif, but now leans in towards Loki and Mobius. Just like Frigga, he’s aware of the tension, but choosing to redirect instead of acknowledging it. Hes sure this isn’t the first time Odin has said something out of line.
Mobius blinks, but nods. “Yes, just once though, at a conference one year. I didn’t get to explore much. Texas isn’t too far from it though, perhaps I ought to travel there again. I suppose that’s where you’ve visited?”
Thor smiles, his grin goofy and warm. “Yes, that’s where my Jane is from, it’s adorable there. It’s practically all sand, but it’s very quaint.”
Loki snorts softly, rolling his eyes fondly. Thor isn’t particularly subtle about wanting to bring up Jane at any moment possible, even if he has to shoehorn it in or change the topic, but he supposes he’s probably equally as soft in regards to Mobius. Once upon a time he may have mocked Thor for such brazen softness, allowing himself to go weak for some human, but now he knows better just how all-consuming love can be, how it makes him just as gooey and flustered as Thor.
“Well, perhaps Loki and I will have to take a trip over there sometime.”
“Oh! We could go on a double date!” Thor beams.
“That’d be quite the sight in a small midgardian town, don’t you think? Two princes of Asgard and their adorable human partners on a date,” Loki smiles in return.
“A sight indeed, but nothing the people there haven’t seen. Jane and I have explored all over and people barely seem to bat an eye now.”
“You must admit though, Thor, that you and Jane stand out much less than perhaps Loki might, especially like this,” Odin says, sounding so calm and sure even as he looks over Loki, eyes sliding up and down across his sleek dress and loose curls and subtle, feature intensifying makeup.
Loki’s hand is still laced with Mobius’, so Mobius feels it when Loki tenses up once again, and something in Mobius just breaks . He feels himself shaking slightly, not used to much confrontation, but he can’t handle this any longer.
“Why exactly do you feel the need to criticize Loki every chance you get?” Mobius snaps, his eyes locking on Odin.
Odin’s eyes grow steelier, but his face overall remains relatively calm. “Excuse me?”
“You have spent countless centuries tearing down Loki’s very being, and you’ve spent just this dinner making even more digs at anything you can think of, it’s like you can’t help yourself,” Mobius continues. He feels himself tensing, his eyes wide with an outward anger that is relatively unfamiliar to him, but he forces himself to keep his voice as steady as possible. He's not yelling, but he forces his voice to remain clear and not dip into a whisper as it tends to do when he’s frustrated.
“I think you misunderstand, there is no malice in what I say,” Odin replies, but his now slightly clipped voice says otherwise. “I don’t know what lies Loki has told you about who I am or how I’ve raised him—”
“No, don’t you dare. He doesn’t need to say a word for me to know, it’s written in the way he feels about himself. Where do you think he learned to hate some of the very things that make him up, if not for the way you have raised him to think?” Mobius finds his voice turning gravelly. “Loki is an amazing being, he’s kind and loving and warm despite you, and I hate that you choose to keep tearing him down.”
Loki stares at him, wide eyed, not looking angry but looking more afraid. Despite his tense form, he leans in closer to Mobius. “Mobius, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m sorry, Loki, but I can’t stand him treating you this way.” Mobius replies with a shaky whisper.
Odin clears his throat.
“Mobius, you speak of my child with such certainty. And yet you have known him barely a year, where I have raised him from infancy. Do you think you can claim to know him better? I have seen all he’s done and said, for better and for worse, yet you speak so surely of his perfection?”
Mobius feels his eyes blazing, but now tears sting behind them. He fights them back, refusing to show weakness right now. He is well aware that all of the rest of their table is quiet and tuned in, even if they don’t openly stare (though some, such as Thor and Frigga, do watch carefully.)
“I don’t need to have known him for his whole life to know who he is. You may choose to deny his good traits to fit your bias, you never want yourself or him to forget all that you’ve tried to mold him into and where he came from. You may think it’s all in fun, all casual remarks, but I know better.” Mobius replies. “I don’t think Loki is perfect, nobody is, but I sure respect and love him a lot more than you seem to.”
“Do not accuse me of not loving my children,” Odin growls.
Loki opens his mouth, but Frigga makes eye contact with him quickly, motioning with her eyes towards outside the banquet hall. She mouths a quiet “go, I will handle this” and gives a small, tense sort of half-smile.
Loki swiftly recaptures Mobius’ hand and tugs gently yet firmly until Mobius gets up with him.
Mobius feels the anger still boiling, but knows that he shouldn’t enrage Odin much further. Regardless, he turns towards him briefly even as Loki tries to lead him away from the table.
“You say you love your children, so I’ll believe you. But if you truly do, your way of showing it is terrible.”
With that, Mobius allows himself to be swiftly led into the small hallway outside of the banquet hall, the doors shutting behind them leaving them blissfully alone.
“How dare he speak to you like that? I knew of all the things he’s said and done before, but I couldn’t have imagined him saying such things at dinner, in front of everyone!” Mobius snaps. “He’s so cruel, Loki, he’s horrible to you.”
“Mobius, love, hey,” Loki whispers, hands finding Mobius’ shoulders, feeling them twitch under his fingertips. “It’s okay. We're alone. Take a breath.”
“It’s not okay. It’s not, he can’t just treat you like that. To raise you with such brutality and then to degrade you so blatantly? Why doesn’t he see how awful that is?”
“Mobius, please. It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. We're okay,” Loki smooths his hands gently up and down Mobius’ shoulders. “I know you’re angry, but I need you to take a breath and relax.”
“But…” Mobius falters, finally allowing himself to suck in some fresh, uninterrupted air. “He was so horrible to you, Loki… I just don’t…”
“I know. It was upsetting to hear, of course. I’m used to hearing it, but… I never really get used to the feelings , I guess.”
Mobius takes another breath, one that makes his whole body shudder. “God. Holy shit,” Mobius mumbles, finally feeling the anger seep away, only to be replaced with a nervous chill and a sense of dread. “Oh, Loki, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… he’s going to take all of this out on you, I’m sure, and I was broadcasting your business, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I’m so sorry.”
“No, love, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you,” Loki whispers, taking Mobius’ face gently in his hands. “I’m more worried about you. You got so furious, so shaken.”
“Because the person I love was being belittled right in front of me!” Mobius says. “I put up with so much, I’m willing to keep the peace to a point, but knowing everything he’s said and done to you, to see he couldn’t even hold it in during an important event? I’m sick of it. I’m tired of people hurting you…”
“I know, Mobius. I love you more than you can ever imagine for being willing to protect me this way,” Loki smooths his thumbs across the planes of Mobius’ cheeks, a steady rhythm. “My love, you are the bravest being I’ve ever met, to look Odin, God of the Heavens, in the eye and tell him off. You look at me and decide I’m worth defending, that I’m worth all that beautiful love you seem to have to give, and you are willing to defend me to the man who has deemed me unworthy.”
“Of course I did. Anyone who wouldn’t love you that way doesn’t deserve you. You are everything wonderful that he doesn’t think you are or can be.” Mobius sighs softly, tilting into Loki’s hand and reaching up to lace his fingers with his. “I don’t understand how you’re so calm, I’m ready to explode and yet you’re comforting me…”
“I’m a master of deception when I wish to be, remember?” Loki gives a watery sort of smile. “Of course it hurt, everything he was saying. I too had hoped he’d manage to be reasonable, not for my sake but for Thor’s, but even for his golden child he couldn’t resist the urge to spark discord. He’s adapted to war, he doesn’t know how to find peace, not even at a party.”
Mobius’ and Loki’s hands drop from the side of Mobius’ face but remain laced tightly together. Mobius gives Loki’s hand a squeeze.
“I think I’m almost numb to him, now. Not that it won’t still ache and damage me when he takes those blows, but enough that I no longer find myself able to fight back every time.” Loki continues, his voice low and rumbling, reverberating softly in the quiet hallway. “I have spent so long now hoping that maybe, just maybe, now that his little secret about me was revealed, he’d somehow recognize the pain he caused, both the intentional and unintentional. I always quietly hoped that maybe he’d see the damage he’s done and apologize, or even acknowledge it… but he never has, and I don’t think he ever will.”
Mobius’ other hand finds Loki’s hip and runs his fingers gently up and down, trying to ground him as he can hear the choked up hitch in his throat and the shaky sighs as he explains.
“I am nowhere near healed from him or from the damage he’s done and continues to do. I don’t know when I’ll ever be. But you, Mobius, loving me so completely, loving me even when I don’t know how to love myself, you give me such strength. You give me a taste of what such peace feels like, what loving myself and my life looks like, and I can’t get enough. You give me the strength to reconnect with those in my family that will love me unconditionally, and you have shown such immense bravery in defending me against those who don’t,” Loki leans forward and pulls Mobius into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Mobius. I hope you never dare forget that.”
Mobius curls into the hug, arms slung around Loki’s body, pressing so tightly into the embrace that he feels Loki’s heartbeat hammering against his own. The fiery anger has faded, leaving only the raw ache behind. It’s not sadness, not really, because Loki is here and safe from the threat of Odin, at least for now. But the overwhelm of Mobius snapping at an all-powerful god, one who has the power to snuff him out in an instant, followed by the sharp, harsh emotions of Loki sharing his raw fears, it’s all coming to a head.
“I love you so much, Loki,” Mobius says with a twinge in his voice.
He feels Loki crying and trembling against him, and that pushes him over the edge. Mobius sobs.
He can’t remember the last time he cried like this. He’d shed tears when Loki had been gone and upon his return, but this is something different. Mobius suspects this is just the straw that broke the camel's back for the both of them, all of the overwhelm, hurt, stress, masking and anxiety all swirling together and punching their way out of their collective chests. All Mobius truly knows is that he’s glad they’re entangled as they are now, chest to chest, heartbeats thundering in tandem, arms wrapped snugly around each other and fingers spread to reach as much surface area as possible across each other's backs and shoulders.
“I’m sorry you’ve been made to feel unlovable, Loki. I can’t fathom anyone not loving you, or not treating you with kindness,” Mobius whispers breathily once he manages to slow the raw flow of tears to a more quiet stream. “I can’t change what the world has done or will do to you, but I hope you always, always remember how loved you are by me. You’ve made my life better in every way, I don’t want you to ever forget that.”
Loki nods into his hair, pausing to press a long, slow kiss there even as tears of his own continue to stream down. “You never let me forget, that’s part of what makes you so wonderful. I am forever grateful for you, for the way you love me and the way you let me love you.”
Mobius tilts his face up, having pulled just far enough back to see Loki, and leans up into a rush of a kiss. Loki hums, a whine low in his throat, his hand slipping from Mobius’ shoulder to press into his lower back, the other hand curling up to cradle his head.
Loki, even in their entangled position, manages to maintain a steady motion of push and pull, occasionally pressing forward into Mobius’ mouth, accompanied by his fingers tightening in Mobius’ hair, before pulling back just enough to make Mobius surge forward to meet him again. The remnants of salty tears mingle with each kiss.
They break away just to catch breath, and Mobius looks at him with such adoration, his face flushed both from tears and interest, his eyes blown wide and his lips faintly plumped.
Loki takes Mobius’ face in his hands once again, unable to keep his hands off of him, wanting to soothe and lay gentle affections on him however he can.
“Mobius, for all of my reputation of always knowing what to say, I feel like I’m floundering with finding all the words to say how much I love you,” Loki gently smooths back the out of place hairs sticking out on Mobius’ forehead. “I want… I want all of you. I want you to have all of me.”
Mobius breathes out, a shaky, bashful sound. “Yeah?” Is all he manages.
Loki nods.
“Yes. Come to bed with me,” Loki whispers. “If you’ll have me, I want everything with you.”
Mobius feels new tears springing to his eyes, but not from the raw pain of before. This is different, the flustered overwhelm of being just so in love that it stings a little, everything is somehow both familiar and brand new.
“Lead the way.”
And Loki does, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together again, his pace quick and steady as he leads Mobius back to his room. Their feet echoing across the marble floor is one of the only sounds in the long hallway.
When they enter the room, Loki lets out a sigh of relief. Mobius’ hands find Loki’s hips once more, and mere seconds later Mobius finds himself being walked backwards until he lands on the bed. Loki’s legs bracket his from his spot sitting on the edge of Loki’s massive plush bed, the silky sheets becoming rumpled beneath him, and Mobius looks up at him with gentle blue eyes.
Loki reaches down and caresses his cheek softly. “You look at me with so much love,” Loki whispers, a mix of awe and affection clear in his voice and in his softened expression, eyes creased softly and a smile playing on his lips. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Mobius can’t help but feel his own lips curling into a smile. “Hey, you stole my line,” Mobius teases in a soft voice. “I was going to mention how smitten you make me when you’re looking at me the way you are, so open and lovely, so gorgeous.”
Loki’s face flushes but he resolutely ignores it. Instead, he swoops down and captures Mobius’ lips in a kiss once more, nearly bursting into flames at the way Mobius nips softly at his bottom lip and making barely perceptible little noises deep in his throat as their mouths explore each other.
Loki feels himself growing desperate to get closer to Mobius, to hold him tighter and feel more of him than just his face, no matter how beautiful it is. He feels insatiable, and he deepens the kiss, leaning over Mobius with one hand pressed into the bed to keep them steady, while the other works on gently but quickly removing his suit jacket. He could just use magic to put them in any state of dress he wanted, but wants to savor every moment of this, focus on feeling and perceiving everything, even the little details like the slip of fabric beneath his fingers as he starts to remove the jacket, Mobius quickly catching on to help him, their mouths barely separating the entire time.
When the jacket is finally tossed aside, Loki sighs softly and smiles against Mobius’ mouth. He inches forward, crowding Mobius onto the bed until he is laying back, the emerald sheets pooling beneath his silver haired head, his eyes sparkling as they look up at Loki. Loki cards his fingers through the fluffy fringe at the front of his hair. “My beautiful Mobius…”
Mobius smiles broadly, feeling so loved and so giddy, like he’s a teenager again, feeling everything for the first time. In a way, he is, because nothing has ever been like Loki. Not because he’s a god or a prince or anything of the sort, but because of how genuinely wonderful he is to him, how happy he makes him. Mobius didn’t know he could be this in love— if it wasn’t so soft and beautiful it would be maddening.
“I want everything with you, Loki.” Mobius whispers, repeating Loki’s earlier sentiment. “I love you so much.”
Loki smiles at him, soft and so incredibly fond. “You’re everything I could ever want. I’ll give you anything,” he replies quietly. “I love you.”
“Always.” Mobius says, feeling his breath and heart rate pickup again as Loki starts pressing kisses into his skin, starting at his neck, deftly unbuttoning a few buttons as he does.
“Always,” Loki breathes into his collarbone, and Mobius feels the words linger there as they are pressed into his skin, a promise he intends to keep .
…