ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴏʙɪᴜs (timetwister) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-09-05 11:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: loki, ₴ inactive: mobius |
WHO: Loki & Mobius
WHAT: A gold-dipped rose, a TALK, and Miss Minutes trolling
WHERE: Loki's cottage, then a cliff with an ocean view
WHEN: Backdated to one of The Addams Family musical nights
WARNINGS: Schmoop. FTB.
STATUS: Complete
This seemed infinitely complicated, and that was putting it lightly. And why was it full of complications, exactly? Because Mobius - an analyst, the best the TVA had to offer, didn’t exactly know where to begin when cracking open a book wasn’t an option. There was no precedent to this - not anything he could recall, not anything he read about; all he knew was that there was this barrier as old as time itself standing between Loki and the rest of the cosmos - and Mobius didn’t want to break it down, necessarily. He simply wanted to find a way around it - or under it. Or over it. Those dams within Loki, Mobius coaxed him to push them open - or he tried to, anyway. He could only hope this talk went well. As promised, he’d gone to see the musical - it was funny, actually, and surprisingly touching. He had a good time - and when it was over, and he headed back to New Asgard beneath a sky shimmering with stars - a collision of the heavens and whatever this planet even was (he still didn’t know, no one did) - he stopped by Loki’s cottage. Not with a bunch of flowers, but one preserved flower - a rose dipped in gold and shimmering in the preferred color green. Real flowers died eventually, but this one wouldn’t - he thought it was a nice sentiment, at any rate. It’s okay, his heart was only jackhammering a little as he knocked. No big deal. The musical had been a roaring success - despite Loki’s frustration that he didn’t hav anything that resembled a main part, he had still committed to being involved. It had been a part of his vague attempts to actually find something further resembling actual relationships in Vallo that weren’t either his brother or of an antagonistic nature, which had proven… perhaps not difficult, but word seemed to have gotten around. Many of Loki’s interactions were tinged with the distrust he had faced through his life. He had hoped that perhaps joining in with a group activity would help somewhat with that, but his new memories, the appearance of Mobius and Sylvie and then that whole mess with the magic-sapping had led to a lot of his attempts being put on the proverbial back-burner, so it was something of a relief that it had still managed to go down smoothly. He wasn’t entirely sure he deserved the gift from Mobius he’d been offered on tag but it wasn’t something he would be turning down, either. He had teleported himself back here in a continuing effort to strengthen his magic with the words of his older self ringing in his ears about sorcery being their greatest asset and it also gave him an opportunity to choose: Did he want to run? The option was there. He could pretend something had cropped up last minute or simply be a no-show and he was selfishly sure that Mobius would forgive him in regards to their friendship if he did, however - Mobius was also one of the first people who had actually trusted him. He felt something of an obligation to keep that trust, despite his utter terror at the thought of being honest about his feelings - even as the knock at the door dragged him from his mind he was still considering bolting, the only thing stopping him being the reminder that it was Mobius. For as much as he called Loki ‘kitten’, he looked himself like a kicked puppy on the occasions that Loki had disobeyed him or otherwise appeared to betray him. He walked over to the door and opened it, raising his eyebrows when he spotted the rose in his hands. “I’m… honestly surprised you found one, even in Vallo.” “I have to have at least one talent,” Mobius smirked, handing over the rose as he went into the cottage. Loki deserved it - he deserved a lot, in Mobius’ view. He Who Remains had written time, all of it, weaving it like tapestries - and deciding, somehow, that the only way for Loki to exist in that Sacred Timeline was to feel unwanted, unloved. Like he could never know what it meant to truly belong. He’d fought against that, again and again - he wrote new paths. And now Mobius was here - he was here, he accepted. All of it, everything. Including how terrible Loki was at chipping away at ice to reveal any true feelings he may have. “Can I sit?” he asked, since this seemed like a conversation best with his ass planted someplace and not standing, fidgeting awkwardly. He reached out, fingers brushing against Loki’s - and Mobius curled his around the fingers of a god, gently insisting, “Don’t go anywhere.” As if he could technically stop Loki from poofing out of existence - but it’d be mighty rude, and if he did that, Mobius was going to hide everything useful and turn all his furniture upside down out of spite. “Well, I suppose. If you insist,” although Loki had already stepped aside to let Mobius in as he was handed the flower, conjuring up a glass with a flourish to set it in for now. It was preserved, but he did have plans - preservation wasn’t much of a barrier to how far Loki had expanded his nature-related magic in his time in Vallo, a good chunk of it spent tending to Frigga’s gardens. They had been sad and half-heartedly just existing at first and had then grown wild with an over-application of spells. He had finally gotten them to a state where they weren’t just presentable, but they were flourishing with beautiful flowerbuds in the summer, ripe fruits and the ghost of his mother’s arms. He realised he’d been staring at the rose for a moment when a warm hand slipped into his and he looked down at it and then back up to Mobius, letting out a huff of air. “I’m not going anywhere,” he responded indignantly, as though he hadn’t just been considering running not a few moments prior to opening the door. He led the way to the room he’d dedicated as his study, bookshelves lining the walls and only half-filled with books of all manner of subject and containing a single chair, which became two at a click of his fingers. Comfortable, but perhaps somewhat detached in that they were facing each other at a slight angle, close but not quite close enough to touch. It almost mirrored the position they’d ended up in at the TVA so many times. “Feel free,” he gestured to the new seat, perching on the edge of the original. Cozy. Mobius was expecting, you know, a sofa or something. Maybe a chaise lounge on the back porch with a view of the stars that bloomed within an expanse of black velvet. But a more professional setting for a conversation that made him nervous as hell - sure, why not. Mobius settled in one of those chairs, stretching out a bit so at the very least they were in prime position to play footsie, legs entangled (this had also happened at the TVA on a couple of occasions). “Now, I admit I don’t know much about this sort of thing,” he started, leaning forward enough so his fingers could do a tapdance on Loki’s knee - did he have to perch? Why could he not just sit, ass in the chair? These questions were probably pointless - Loki was a Loki, no matter what form he felt like taking that day. “But I figure there’s no sense in trying to go forward if we’re not on the same page - so what page are you on?” That seemed like important information to have and, in typical Loki fashion, he hadn’t directly answered the question of ‘how do you feel about me?’ that Mobius had brought up in a dating app of all things. Honestly, of all things. There it was again. One of the questions from Mobius that Loki would have probably deflected if it had come from anybody else but as it was, he was stunned into uncharacteristic silence, despite having expected it. He hadn’t even fully agreed with himself on where he stood with Mobius and precisely what it was that he felt for him - a lot, was the general gist. A lot of slightly confusing and slightly terrifying things because Mobius was a human, for one, and probably his closest friend despite having not known him for very long. He didn’t want to lose that. “That depends entirely on whether we’re even in the same book,” he scoffed lightly, glancing down at the hand on his knee. “Do you actually want this? Or are you just infatuated with the idea of taming a Loki?” he raised an eyebrow. “I’m not amenable to being tamed.” "I don't want to tame you." That was said immediately, matter-of-factly. It was true. So what did he want? To be there for him. A balm for his wounds, his scars - something to soothe. Not because those scars were ugly, but because they hurt - and Mobius couldn't stand for that. "If I hadn't shown up here, I would have looked for you." He would have been shredding through Timedoors like they were tissue paper, and he had to be honest with himself about that. "I would have followed you down any path, not because I like being right or because it's about my pride or proving something - but because I want to make sure you're safe. Because I’m not taming you - I’m choosing you." All of him - the flaws, the misdeeds, the ways Loki did often go down the wrong path. Someone who accepted and saw him - maybe Loki never found a home within the bounds of the Sacred Timeline, but could be that was because home existed outside of those boundaries. Not in a place - but a person. Loki briefly remembered the Mobius who’d had no recollection of him and winced slightly at the thought, glad that this was the Mobius that the universe had decided to drop into Vallo. He wasn’t really one to believe in destiny too much - apparently Ragnarok was much more real than he had put stock in, though, so perhaps destiny was real. If it was, did that mean that they had been destined to find each other again out of the grasp of their own universe? “You do like being right,” Loki pointed out, but made a move to take Mobius’ hand where it was on his knee, his moves somewhat slow and hesitant as he slotted their fingers together, frowning slightly. He knew he wanted this, but it was more a matter of trusting this and trusting that it wouldn’t immediately implode in his face. He perhaps had more known experience than Mobius but that didn’t mean he’d had a successful relationship before - mostly just people using him or deciding it would be fun to have a prince for a while right up until they realised the fact that Loki was the family scapegoat. He knew that wouldn’t happen with Mobius but it didn’t exactly lend to a knowledge of healthy and trusting relationships. “I want you,” he confirmed, not sure that he’d even said the words out loud yet, fighting the instinct to go on the defensive and instead settling for something slightly more balanced. “I just don’t know if it’s strictly a good idea.” Mobius twined his fingers with Loki's, reveling in the touch - so much he had missed from behind a cubicle, just doing his job and analyzing right and left. The part of him that devoted his life to playing by the rules kind of seized up too, admittedly - it screamed at him about how he didn't know what he was doing, that maybe on some level this shouldn't be happening. But there was a much bigger part that told him that he'd already given it all up for untamed chaos anyway - that waltzing into the unknown, that taking a chance, was the only way forward from here. "Guess we'll find out together?" he suggested, his opposite hand reaching for Loki - fingers curled around the fabric of his clothing, attempting to tug him closer from where he leaned. "I'm willing to take the chance if you are though." He wanted to. For the duration of his too-long life, he believed he was simply a cog in a machine. That he'd been given purpose by the very beings that scribed the rules of the universe. Then he'd been whiplashed so very far from that - and now he wasn't worried about the risk of heartbreak. He already lost his heart anyway, each time he heard the whirr of the holoprojector cranking to life, and he watched the story of chaos incarnate unfold. Willing to take the chance. So much of Loki’s life had been taking chances and doing what he could to get a desperate foot up the proverbial ladder that his life had become and now he was being offered something that seemed to make all of his prior actions seem pointless, although he supposed that they had led him to this moment, in their own way. He let himself be tugged a little but there wasn’t really anywhere to go except to either stand up or to shift into Mobius’ lap, both of which seemed an awkward resolution to this. “I always knew you had a thing for Lokis,” he teased, but there wasn’t much behind it as he leant forward in a slightly hesitant movement, eventually coming to lean over the space between them and rest his forehead against Mobius’ for a moment, closing his eyes. “You realise that people will judge you heavily for this, yes?” Probably both of them, actually. Any Asgardian would recognise that Mobius was a human and would possibly die far before Loki had another chance to consider dying himself, which was a thought he didn’t want to entertain today. Vallo probably had ways around that and this was something significant. Mobius was something significant. “I have a thing for you,” Mobius drawled, that accent peeking through - smooth and buttery. He had such a thing for mischief incarnate so much he had been inspired to challenge lifetimes upon lifetimes of his work, what his existence even meant; that too, meant something. “Maybe old Loki also. Totally hot.” He was kidding about that, clearly. Even if the outfit had been hilarious. They touched foreheads and his fingers stretched along Loki’s jaw, that unfairly sharp and chiseled line that could slice pie - hell, Loki could slice Mobius’ pie anytime he wanted. That map of muscle and bone and tendons, shoulder and neck, he wanted to memorize. “I don’t care what people think though. They don’t see you like how I see you.” And he knew that maybe he wasn’t someone who Odin would have married Loki off to, used as a bargaining chip in yet another way - but Mobius didn’t care about that either. If he truly was going to live forever (still waiting on the test results there, after Alex poked at him with needles to take blood samples) then he couldn’t think of any other potentially dangerous (and exciting) entrapment he’d rather be involved with. “Well, Old Loki is apparently in my future. Or- an alternate version of my timeline’s. He hid when Thanos came,” he shrugged by way of explanation. Still, he rather hoped he might have a chance of aging somewhat more elegantly with not being trapped alone on a deserted planet and all - and hopefully with better clothing taste. Loki found himself leaning into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment as he sighed and just- allowed it, for once. Mobius was giving him so much and Loki’s rebuttals were half-hearted at best, not truly wanting to push him away. He wasn’t sure what they could have, but it seemed that they could have something. An almost idyllic life under the stars, if he really wanted to put some stock into hope, which he didn’t often do. Still, he closed the minute gap between them and pressed his lips against Mobius’ in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle coming from Loki despite the urgency behind it, his fingers gripping a little too tightly where they had come to rest on his shoulder. When their lips met, sharing that first kiss - it was like, fuck anything related to any device he had, any power that the universe held; that kiss alone could stop time and Mobius was pretty sure it did. He wanted gentle and he wanted urgent - he wanted bruising grips too. Needed that, needed exploding stars and the crash of meteors. His fingers carded through Loki’s hair and he returned that kiss, deep and intense and full of all this emotion like a dark, dark lullaby. He made a sound that was low and curious, rolling around in his throat; he technically had no idea what he was doing when it came to actually kissing someone. Or making out. Or anything further. Felt amazing though. Loki’s fingertips may as well be glowing embers, for how everything seared. Mobius never really sought out touch, not before Loki, didn’t seek out anything - but he was a quick learner, at least. “Can do more of that if you’re worried about awkward silences,” he pointed out, brushing their noses together. Loki hadn’t really allowed himself something like this before. Obviously, he’d had his paramours - a long line of them, in fact, many of which had been dirty little secrets. This was so different in the fact that Loki wanted to shout from the rooftops that yes, Mobius was his and he would be damned if he would let anybody change that. It was a far cry from deeming all humans to be not worth dealing with except to play a few pranks hundreds of years ago. He looked at Mobius and saw all of the potential that humans could be. “I’m not particularly worried about awkward silences,” Loki had never really found many of the silences with Mobius to be awkward, at least when they had been working together - companionable silence, perhaps. He was worried about a few other things but right now, they hardly seemed worth bringing up. Mobius seemed pretty single-minded in his determination for this to be a thing and Loki was sure that he wasn’t manipulating him in some way because he was one of the few who had seen him. He’d seen everything, from what he knew, every sordid detail and every minor or major mistake and he was still here. It was unfathomable. “Would you like to see one of my favourite spots near here?” he questioned instead, ready to both flex his magical muscles and offer Mobius something so that he didn’t instantly begin to regret this. Mobius was gentle when he glided his thumbs over Loki’s cheekbones - he’d seen him for all he was, all his mistakes, his flaws. And yeah, he was still here - maybe because he decided Loki didn’t need a hefty dose of ‘tough love.’ Maybe he needed something unyielding. So Mobius would give him that - he would give him all that he could. “One of your favorite spots? Well, how could I refuse,” he grinned, reluctantly pulling back - he’d honestly have stayed here in matching, opposite chairs and kissed Loki for another millennia, it didn’t matter to him - what was a stiff and sore spine if it meant getting to do that? But moving elsewhere was good too. “Show me.” It would no doubt be impressive, so he’d manage to get his swooning abilities ready. Even if he’d never been much of a swooner in the past. Loki definitely didn’t need to kiss Mobius in order to teleport him - he didn’t need to be touching him at all, in fact, but Loki was one for dramatic flairs and grandiose gestures. This perhaps didn’t quite fall into that category but it fell into something akin to it as Loki moved the both of them in a flash of green, keeping a hold of Mobius- well, just in case. His hold was tight because where he had brought him was to a cliff’s edge overlooking the ocean, a spot he found to be similar to those he used to sneak out to in Asgard, yet entirely different at the same time. It was late enough after the show that it was nearly pitch black outside, the only light coming from the moon and the stars - out here, they were far enough from the city of Vallo that its lights didn’t taint the sky, leaving it just a vast expanse of stars, space. The endless void of the universe that seemed so consistently daunting no matter what world Loki landed in, making it an odd sort of comfort. It was beautiful, terrifying and rather than make him feel large as it once had when he considered himself the future ruler of it, he suddenly felt small. Small in a way that the things that mattered to him were close rather than far-off specks of light that would kill him if he stood with them like he was with Mobius and really, wasn’t that a metaphor for the ages? He let go of him carefully once he was sure he was aligned with the ground correctly, pulling a deep green blanket from behind his back to lay it on the ground. “I’m not sure if the others have discovered this place yet. I would venture ‘no’ because it’s hardly a specific cliff edge, but it does happen to be my favourite. Sometimes you can see animals in the ocean. Whales, dolphins, things like that.” Well, that trip - was definitely a trip. Mobius blinked, hanging onto Loki with clenched fingers when they arrived at their new destination - then he managed to uncurl those fingers when Loki let go, and Mobius shook out his limbs. Teleporting like that wasn’t so different than taking a waypoint, he supposed - at least this option came with a Loki, which was vastly preferable. “Oh - “ It took him a second to register where they were, but he drank it all in quickly. “It’s beautiful.” It was. The waves breaking on the beach, the way the water seemed to sparkle with electric blue lights, milky seas that looked like snow for a moment - it was the bioluminescence, triggered by the moonlight. Some animals even used the brightness, the stars, to navigate. And those stars were bright - they looked like glittering gemstones. He settled on the blanket, tugging Loki to sit beside him. Mobius remembered he told the truth to Ravonna about where he’d go, if he could go anywhere - that he wanted to know who he was before he was taken by the TVA, what his family was like, if he had a jetski. But if he never knew, he’d come to realize that he’d be just fine - he had an identity regardless, he was anchored in seeking out this, for literal eons; he had Loki. Loki was enough. So he curled closer - there was likely only so much genuine affection, coming from a place of emotion and emotional intimacy, that Loki could handle before figuratively hissing in that feral cat kind of way and Mobius wouldn’t smother him. But the setting was pretty romantic so he wanted to appreciate it. “You come here pretty often to think, then?” Loki let himself be pulled down, surprisingly pliant under Mobius’ hands as he laid back with his hands resting on his stomach, staring up at the sky as he had done so many times before - but this time he wasn’t alone. He could feel the warmth of Mobius next to him and he reached down blindly to take his hand again, lacing their fingers together and glancing over at him when he asked the question. “Something like that. There have been many times in the past that I’ve needed to get away from even the people in the village,” After Thor had left, both times. After Valkyrie had left both times, when Fandral had nearly died - he looked over at Mobius again at that and realised that if he lost him, he would tear Vallo apart building by building until he found a method to bring him back. Anything was possible here. “Sleipnir usually comes to find me if he thinks I’ve been gone for too long, though. He always was my favourite of father’s horses,” he propped himself up on his elbows so that he could conjure a bottle of some of the more human-friendly alcohol that Torunn sold along with a pair of glasses, handing one to Mobius. “Drink? I suppose this is the kind of thing people celebrate for.” “Are you trying to seduce me?” Mobius teased, squeezing Loki’s hand, because that’s what it seemed like to him. Spoiler: It wasn’t going to take much to get him in a banging sort of mood though he definitely enjoyed the ambiance and the addition of alcohol to the equation. “But yeah, a drink would be great - fill ‘er up, gorgeous.” He shifted so he could hold the glass and sip on the honey-colored liquid - the aroma was delightfully pungent but also sweet like honey; it was clearly the human-safe version, which was fine by him. Having a functional liver was important. “And needing to get away is fair. Not like we can open a Timedoor and take a side jaunt to Pompeii or anything - I’ve tried, by the way. To open Timedoors, now that the TemPad is charged. It doesn’t work how it normally does.” Plus Miss Minutes popped up and offered snarky commentary - there was only so much of that he could take and it wasn’t a lot. It was so different from what Loki knew of courting on Asgard, although he couldn’t say he disliked the pet names from Mobius. They just consistently took him off guard in the best way, a smile tugging at his lips as he poured the drink for the both of them, setting the bottle down to the side as he shifted a little closer to him, gravitating to his warmth. It would take him a while before he was comfortable with giving and receiving touch naturally, but Mobius had already been… a lot more tactile than most were with him. “It doesn’t work?” he questioned, curious but not entirely surprised. If anything had a chance at punching through the barriers that Vallo had up, he had thought the TemPad would be it. “I- hm. I have to admit, that makes me a little more concerned about who - or what - is holding us here. If the TemPad can’t even surpass it, I don’t know what can. The TVA and He Who Remains were among the most powerful things I’ve ever encountered, and I’ve encountered quite a lot,” he frowned, holding his hand out and making a grabby motion for it. Mobius let out a little laugh, backs of his fingers brushing over the sharpness of Loki’s jawline, over his cheekbone again. Because it felt like his hand was made to rest there - like there was a perfect spot for it anyway, in a space carved from ice. Maybe it was all meant to be - maybe he’d been pulled from his jetski in his timeline of origin so that he could end up here, right now. “It works but - it won’t take us anywhere outside of Vallo. Or very far in either direction on this world’s timeline - though granted, I haven’t fully tested the limits,” he admitted. Maybe it was possible they could go back, back to whatever happened here - but not forward. Again, he’d have to do some playing around now that the TemPad was operational. But he almost always had it on him so he shifted a little, closer to Loki, but also so he could reach into his pocket and pull out the device. Mobius flipped it open and tapped the Miss Minutes button - a second later, the animated clock popped up with her ‘hands’ on her ‘hips.’ “Hey y’all!” Mobius braced himself for some kind of remark of judgment. “Look at how romantic this is!” “Here - “ The TemPad was handed over to Loki. “You can do with her what you want, I just thought I’d demonstrate.” Loki opted to lean into the touch, despite how aware he was of it. Mobius was right there and he was happy if not eager for Loki to lean into him and such a simple action getting positive reinforcement was doing a lot more for Loki that he could say. He rolled his eyes at the comment from Miss Minutes but rather than rebuke it, he just started to tap around the menu interface. "Yes, it is romantic. That's rather the intention. Do you have access to the files from the TVA?" he questioned. He didn't have any intention of ruining this by turning it into a research session but it was definitely something worth knowing. He was sure he had already looked, but he wanted to see whether there were files on Mobius - and his own, for that matter. He was less and less sure that it would change things if Mobius found out that he'd had a family. A wife or a husband, children, some kind of a life that Loki probably couldn't offer him. He could be both a wife and a husband and look any which way Mobius asked him to, but he could only ever be Loki. The looks he kept catching from the corner of his eye made him think that maybe even with information he would prefer such a thing. "Don't lie to me either. I'll know if you're hiding." “Will you though?” Miss Minutes asked, her voice dripping with southern hospitality, sweet tea, and condensation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Loki.” Mobius sighed - see, this was why he didn’t necessarily want to call up Miss Minutes but he had a feeling he knew why Loki did it. His heart beat fast against his ribcage and he scooted in, a flower seeking sunshine, and wrapped an arm around one of Loki’s - to keep physical contact but also because if he didn’t, he was concerned Loki might bat at Miss Minutes with the newspaper again, like she was a fly to be swatted or something. “Even if she has them it doesn’t matter,” he insisted, nuzzling at the spot beneath Loki’s ear - a bit of a mustache tickle, probably. “I can have my memories returned to me some other way and I’ll show you then that it won’t matter.” He’d given up everything for Loki - before him, the TVA was all Mobius knew. It was his whole life - and he’d betrayed them. Because he saw the good in Loki, believed in him - if that wasn’t love, then Mobius wasn’t sure what was. It was both as simple and as complicated (two hemispheres merging to form one perfect sphere - something romantic as the setting) as that. “Do you lovebirds think He would actually keep files on every variant who started workin’ for the TVA?” the cartoon clock batted her lashes innocently - blink, blink. “I didn’t start working there - He forced me to,” Mobius snapped. Miss Minutes waved a gloved hand. “Semantics, Mobius. He gave you a purpose, y’all should be grateful.” Mobius glanced at Loki. “She doesn’t have any files. Not those.” It was likely true. The situation with Hunter C-20 showed him that the former lives of the TVA employees were buried deep - and the TVA couldn’t risk anyone stumbling onto a paper trail there. Now, did Miss Minutes have files pertaining to the creation of the TVA itself? Probably. But Mobius had a feeling there was no convincing her to load those onto the TemPad at the moment. “I do think he would do that, actually,” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Although- yes, you’re right. Perhaps not on the basic systems,” he was sure there was a way, but regardless - her comment made him snap the TemPad shut before she could properly finish that sentence, deciding that she was something they could deal with at a later time. He couldn’t deny any kind of point she may or may not have about the fact that they certainly wouldn’t have met if Mobius had stayed back on Earth with his jet skis and his- whatever else that specific era of Earth had, he supposed. He had given up on keeping tabs on Midgard as soon as people had stopped playing pranks in the name of Loki, after all. “Well, she’s fairly irrelevant here,” he murmured, turning his head to brush his lips against Mobius’ temple. “I just thought- perhaps she would be able to divulge something. Maybe they even had records from Vallo itself, or some kind of- note regarding its existence,” that was a thought. If they could convince her to cooperate, she might have been able to get information from Vallo’s system. As much as Loki didn’t hate it here, he still didn’t like feeling trapped like a particularly irritating wasp under a glass cup. If they had freedom - true freedom as Sylvie had supposedly granted them (that being said, he wasn’t so sure whether or not that was freedom or whether it was painting a target on their backs) they could go anywhere. Do anything. Maybe they wouldn’t even leave Vallo, but they would have the option. “Sorry for bringing her into our- excursion. I’m evidently a little rusty on romance.” Mobius chuckled fondly, plucking the TemPad from Loki’s hands - they didn’t need it at the moment, because the thought of dealing with Miss Minutes definitely gave him a headache. And it would kill the mood. “She might be able to load something,” he agreed, a throaty rumble. “Probably gonna have to butter her up more though. Which - “ Fingers toyed with the collar of Loki’s shirt, “...I’d rather focus on you right now.” It was true. And he didn’t have any complaints about Loki’s romance attempts - considering how rusty Mobius was by comparison, well. This was a downright ten out of ten. “We can just pick up where we left off,” he said, going for another brush of their noses together - one as crooked as his no doubt was good for the very best of these particular displays of affection. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he added, because he knew Loki had kind of an interesting relationship with others touching him - probably due a variety of factors. But then Mobius kissed him, falling into it like it was one of his first (in many ways, that was sort of true), like a drowning swimmer searching for air. He’d be content with staying out here and keeping on with this - and to hell (Hel?) with that cartoon animated clock. Loki shook his head a little at the offer. He felt fine - surprisingly so, perhaps because he was willing to accept to some degree that Mobius did want him. The mocking wasn’t serious, it was more their way of communicating between one another and Loki felt relatively comfortable with it all as he shifted to lean over him, one arm resting on the floor next to his hip as he ended up in a position that was all but sitting in his lap. The kiss was different to the one they had shared before. More… desperate, for lack of a proper word, and Loki felt it just as equally as he leant into it fully and cupped his free hand behind his head, pushing up and into his short hair. He didn’t want to push too far and certainly not too fast but he was exerting a gentle pressure to lay them both down on the blanket that he’d conjured, breaking off only when he grew concerned that Mobius might have needed air and he pulled back a little so he could take a mental image of him like this, ruffled up and a far cry from his usual business-casual put together nothing-bothers-me expressions. “I must admit, you’re not half bad at that for somebody out of practice,” he teased, leaning back down to press a string of kisses up his jaw. Okay, yes, no stopping then. Not happening - he’d just be a locomotive on fire. Mobius didn't require much coaxing either - he went back on the blanket easily, inviting that mischievousness and then some to cover him like Loki was the blanket instead, a full invitation into the cradle between Mobius' legs. They slotted together as if Loki was meant to be there, and maybe that was the case. "I guess it's like riding a bike?" he smirked. Seemed like passion had bypassed a mere kindling and went right to roaring flames - which was fine with him, because giving in felt like being caught in a wicked undertow. Like drowning. Fingers stroked through Loki's hair, with Mobius giving it a bit of a yank, pulling him near so their mouths could touch again and he could go for another kiss that stole his breath and left something burning within him in its wake. He was pliant beneath Loki too, thighs hugging ribs - maybe that grip was a little possessive. “Closer,” he insisted, hands slipping up Loki’s shirt. The analogy was perhaps a little lost on Loki but he got the gist of it and didn’t quite care enough about the description right now to ask - he had at least seen bikes, so he asked no questions as Mobius distracted him by tugging on his hair, an action that would have earned many other people at the very least, some kind of a stab wound. As it was, Loki just made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and fell into place as he was tugged, arms bracketing his head as comparatively warm hands slipped up his shirt and he huffed out a breath, leaning into the touch. It was as though somebody had lit a fire in him. In the millennia he’d been alive, he truly hadn’t felt this in tune with somebody - not as though they were meeting in the middle as equals, at least. There wasn’t a power struggle here between Loki and Mobius, even if there perhaps should have been in one way or another. In this world, Loki was a god with all of his powers but at the TVA, Mobius had proved an even match for him. “Mobius,” he murmured his name as he considered for a moment just vanishing his jacket away so that he wouldn’t have to move, pulling back. “Are we really doing this?” Mobius made a warm noise of confirmation, assent, an mmmhmm as his hands stroked up Loki’s thighs - he wanted this, wanted him, wanted those bursts of color behind his eyelids that resembled fireworks. “Yeah,” he rumbled, and he sounded like he had something stuck in his throat - a deck of cards being shuffled or emotion. Possibly that. “If you want to also - I mean, if you...because I want to.” What is ‘speaking English’? Maybe he should just switch to another language, it might be easier - Mobius knew plenty of them. He was pretty sure he even knew how to say I would follow you across the Nine Realms into eternity in Old Norse too, but he’d have to bang the brain cells together enough to do it - hopefully the look he was giving Loki conveyed some of the sentiment, however. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out lowly, like music - and he didn’t pull on Loki’s hair (tempting though, to get him to make that noise again), Mobius just reached for him to reverently run his fingers through the black puddles of the slightly disheveled mess. “Gets me everytime.” Loki was more than happy to drink in the compliments that he was being given, looking very much like the cat that had got the cream. He'd certainly gotten something that could be considered a prize in Mobius, shooting him a smirk. It was odd how content he was to just accept this moment without trying to twist it or overanalyze it. Mobius hadn't necessarily always been the best to him - in the beginning, at least - but he told the truth. His sincerity had been like a slap to the face at first and now it was just a given, something that Loki could count on. "I want to, in case you had any concerns of your own. I don't think I could let you go and be happy with somebody else," he would always have some backup plan, some… escape route. That tiny little poke of doubt and needle that said 'you don't deserve this' would probably never truly leave considering how ingrained it was in his personality, but Loki had lost so much to his built up walls that yes, he was willing to take a few of them down and let Mobius in. It was probably selfish of him to cling to him with both hands and refuse to let go as long as Mobius wanted to be held but Loki had never been very good at honing in his selfish instincts and taking the so-called high road. It was hard to think it could be anything higher than how he felt right now, the vast expanse of the universe behind him and yet Mobius' eyes were on him. “I don’t want anyone else,” Mobius assured and, hell, he’d skywrite it if that would help. But no matter what, he figured he’d have enough time to convey that. Years and years and years, if he was lucky - for right now, he was content to exist solely in this moment, where his existence was whittled down to. It seemed simple, somehow. Concise. And reality, this reality and this world - it all made sense, somehow. He didn’t have a lot of field work training, beyond keeping himself in decent shape for those instances he wasn’t behind a desk - but he summoned every scrap he did have, and did learn, wrapping his arms around Loki and twisting them so he could pin Bad Kitty to the blanket instead. “Alright - talky-talky,” he said, palm of his hand pressed to the center of Loki’s chest, an anchoring point because it was right where his heart beat. “I’m good with you ensorceling our clothes away as long as you can bring them back later.” Doing a naked Walk (Teleport?) of Shame back to the cottages probably wouldn’t be ideal. Loki made a noise of shock when he was flipped - he could have easily pushed back and stopped it but he went with Mobius, his hair spread around his head like a disheveled halo. He knew he must look a mess right now but it wasn't something he was overly concerned about. "The- talky talky as you so eloquently put it isn't going away any time soon," he smirked a little, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "I rather thought you would want to undress me yourself, but yes. I can fairly easily bring our clothes back if I send them somewhere," for whatever reason, the thought brought up some interesting mental imagery of Mobius with magic that Loki would revisit as a concept at a later date when he didn't have the man himself hovering above him, pulling him back down to kiss him. |