Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Payton can see someone talking to Dr. Mobius in his office. The thin, grey window doesn’t give way to any details to who it could be, but she supposes she’ll see once the person walks out. She’s generally the only one who goes to these things, so that’s what’s really intriguing to her—Dr. Mobius isn’t the most warm and fuzzy of the professors before you get to really know him, and frankly, she wouldn’t be meeting with him if it weren’t for her senior honor’s thesis. He’s the only professor in her department who would have a keen, unbiased eye when giving her critiques on her research. His brand of nice is one that’s confusing to someone who doesn’t particularly take a shining to it right away. Over her four years she appreciated the focus he brought with him to the topic, his weird, “I know more than you” take to the entirety of human history, and then some. Most people don’t bother pushing back on his very specific brand of questioning.

The door swings open and Payton nearly jumps out of her seat trying to tear her eyes away and cast her gaze on the ground. She tries to listen in on the parting words between the two people in the room, but she’s too frazzled. One footstep, two, and then a voice chimes out.

“Oh, my apologies if I made you late.”

Payton looks up and looks at what she can only assume is another professor. He’s young-looking. His dark green shirt is unbuttoned at the top and for some reason that’s what catches Payton’s eye first. She’s never seen this professor in her life, so it’s fair to assume that he’s from a different department, and if she was being honest, she’s not even completely convinced that he’s a proper professor and not just someone who broke in and hasn’t figured out how to leave. She remembers that she has to have manners, and smiles.

“It’s alright. No worries.”

The professor gives a polite smile, a curt nod, and continues on his way down the hall and away from the offices, heels clicking gently on the floor as he does. She casts a quick glance over her shoulder, to maybe track him down or get a clue as to who he is, because sure as hell Dr. Mobius isn’t going to tell her. The door to the office is still open and right, she has a class after this meeting, and she really needs to talk about her research.

Dr. Mobius is already watching the door as she comes in, because somehow he knows everything, and he gestures a hand towards the chair that she knows well. “Please, sit. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

She bites her tongue to keep from prying and shuts the door behind herself.

James isn’t paying attention. He hasn’t paid a lick of attention since the start of class today. It’s just that Valkyrie’s invited one of the English professors, Professor Laufeyson (who had immediately insisted they call him Loki) to sit in and talk about whatever book they were supposed to have read last night, and he is incredibly attractive. There’s nothing wrong with ogling him as long as he does it in the privacy of his own mind, right? It’s not very progressive to be checking someone out while they talk about gender equality in young adult literature. But Steph has definitely noticed and she kicks the back of his chair yet again, effectively jolting him out of it.

“What?” he hisses over his shoulder, and he can feel the glare against his back. Right. Right, okay, focus.

He tries to narrow in on the man’s hand, and as soon as Loki gestures grandly, he catches the glint of gold flash in the light. There it is. James feels like he can breathe again. Somehow it makes it feel less wrong. Now he can ogle in peace.

“The purpose of this book is to make you think about how gender is presented in young adult literature,” is the first sentence he catches, Loki’s accent smoothing out whatever nonsense he says, “as opposed to taking it all at face value. That is the one thing you should never do—never accept anything in literature for what it seems, for better or worse.”

He makes it through the rest of the class unscathed. And he does actually have a question for Valkyrie regarding their next assignment, but it seems like a couple others caught the drift and are standing around the two of them. So, James takes a step back and watches. Loki’s got one hand propped on the table, leaning against it, left ankle propped on top of his right heel. He’s close to Valkyrie’s side, watching her fondly as she talks with a few classmates about something James can’t hear. They can’t be together, she’s too insistent to go by her first name or “Miss” that if she did have a partner, James would be offended on their behalf.

Before he can step forward to ask his question, Steph grabs his shoulder bag and yanks him back towards the door. He stumbles, but this is a game he’s used to with her, and he laughs quietly.

“You’re an asshole,” he grumbles, and Steph doesn’t let go of his bag. “I’m trying to figure out those two. They’re not married, are they?”

“No, no no. She’s a stone cold lesbian,” Steph says, and glances over her shoulder back at him. “Your gaydar must be terrible to not guess that.”

James scoffs. “I think ‘gaydar’ is horribly reductive. Don’t you think Professor Loki would agree?”

“Professor Loki is also married and way out of your league.”

Their spirited yet goofy debate carries them all the way to their next class.

Ravonna needs to jog every few steps in order to get to lunch in time. Well, she doesn’t have to be on time , since free time works a bit differently in the TVA, but she has only about half an hour between her two classes, and despite the knowledge that she really is too good to run, it’s her own fault for meandering. It also doesn’t help that she generally meets Mobius during this time—Mobius has a few more minutes than she does, but it at least helps Ravonna remember that she has to talk to other people during the work day so she doesn’t go completely stir crazy.

After a quick scan of the dining commons, she spots Mobius sitting at a table with, inexplicably, Loki Laufeyson. She had no idea those two even knew each other, let alone well enough to sit at a small little round table by themselves. She heads up and simply expresses as much.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” Ravonna says as she sets her bag over the back of the chair, smoothing the handle down. “Would either of you like something when I go up?”

Loki gives an amused glance at Mobius, and Ravonna feels deeply out of her comfort zone. “I’m alright, thanks.”

Ravonna nods dumbly and goes up to grab her food.

Loki watches her go, that same smirk still on his face. “Didn’t know we knew each other?”

Mobius laughs and knocks their feet together under the table. Could be written off as an accident to the naked eye. That’s how they prefer it, here. “I mean, we don’t really talk about one another at work after the whole...you know.”

“Still. She’s known you for how long now? She has worked here with you since I was a student, no? I didn't get pruned from the system.”

Mobius waves a hand dismissively. “Semantics.”

“Mighty big word for you,” Loki shoots back, “do you even know what that means?”

“What I do know is that becoming a professor has gone to your already huge head.”

If they weren’t in public, Loki would probably shove Mobius. Instead, he watches Ravonna come back, which must remind him of something, because he checks his phone and swears under his breath. He hops up and grabs his bag off the back of the chair, giving Ravonna a curt nod.

“Got a meeting in a few minutes. Gods forbid I have a class off for once. Mobius, Ravonna. Don’t talk about me while I’m gone.”

“We will,” Mobius shoots back. Ravonna watches as Loki smiles and heads out of the room.

“When worlds collide, hm?” Ravonna says after a few minutes of eating, and Mobius, who’s looking at something on his laptop, looks up and raises his eyebrows. Ravonna barrels on despite herself. “It’s nice to get to know some of the new professors.”

Mobius must find that amusing, because he chuckles and focuses back on his laptop. “Is that so?”

Ravonna takes another bite and hums. “I’m just impressed you got out of the department to go and meet him.”

“I’m actually a fan of his, if I’m being honest with you.”

Ravonna literally doesn’t remember the last time Mobius spoke to someone outside of the history department at all, let alone read their work. It floors her completely. “Really?”

Mobius looks excited when he looks up again. “He’s passionate. Even more so than the usual new hires. I think it’s refreshing. Maybe it’s time for you to climb down from that almighty tower of yours and greet them sometime.”

Ravonna shoots him a look, which Mobius looks more than pleased about. It’s clear she’s not going to make any headway here whatsoever. This is a classic wall that Mobius has slammed up before she can even check to see if there’s a door through.

“It’s just unexpected, that’s all. Although I do suppose you’ve always had a knack for the unexpected.”

There’s times like this where Ravonna wonders about Mobius’ husband. Husband , Ravonna has to remind herself, specifically after the three times she said wife and Mobius laughed at her every single time. They have similar careers, that much Ravonna knows. Been together for a while, as far as she can tell. She feels like if their relationship was new, Mobius would be talking about it a whole lot more, so that’s a point in that corner. She wonders what they talk about, what keeps their relationship interesting. What if it’s not interesting? What if it’s absolutely terrible, and that’s why he never mentions it? The possibilities are awful, and Ravonna is not going to be the one to ask those questions.

“A cross-department friendship is absolutely unheard of,” Mobius quips, and Ravonna knows she’s fully stepped in it.

“Look. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. He said not to talk about him while he was gone.”

“Exactly.” Mobius taps the clock in the top corner of his computer, and then looks at Ravonna expectantly. Shit. She’s late again.

“I get it, I get it.” She rushes to finish food, gather her things, and grab her plate all at the same time. Mobius snickers and waves goodbye to her. A terrible thought pops into Ravonna’s head. She turns around to look at Mobius again, who is back to being immersed in his computer, same as he ever is. But unlike the normal, rather monotone look on his face that he has when he’s researching (or waiting for students to be done with an exam), he’s got the hint of a smile still dancing around his face.

She needs to see this Mobius and Loki thing through. Just to make sure it’s nothing.

Chapter Text

Loki’s time spent learning at TVA was actually nothing short of a mid-level scandal—as most things tend to be when he gets his hands on them. What would a post-grad be without a little bit of drama, anyway? But he thinks, as he makes his way back to his office (and definitely causes whoever it is to wait for him), that’s probably why Ravonna is one of the many professors with a blind eye to who he actually is.

After a few years of meandering around the world and not finding a job that fit his requirements, some angry, spiteful God decided to give him the good idea of going back to school and pursuing another degree. It didn’t seem too hard; if undergrad was a breeze, how hard could post-grad really be? And yeah, the first semester was fine. Uneventful and stressful; literally the worst combination of things Loki could possibly conjure up. Not quite refined enough for him to figure out his passion, not quite broad enough for him to coast. It was torture.

Second semester, however, a mythology class was offered by a professor he had not yet met. Coming in, he had an inkling that his Master’s thesis would lay somewhere within that realm, so naturally he signed himself up.

The glaring problem was that fucking professor. Dr. Mobius, never any other version of that name. Normally Loki had a pretty good read on his professors—what they wanted, how they graded, what he needed to do to skate by without breaking his back with work. But Dr. Mobius was an absolute mystery that he had to get to the bottom of.

The fact that he was good-looking just made everything more annoying.

Loki went to a lot of office hours. Too many office hours, if he was being honest, especially for someone who, during undergrad, never stepped foot into a professor’s office unless he absolutely had to. A lot of the first meetings were frustrating beyond belief:

“All I’m asking is how you want this paper to actually be formulated.”

Dr. Mobius, ever-annoying, leaned back in his armchair that was (and still is) as old as time, waving his hands out as he talked. “I already told you. There’s no secret to it, Loki, there’s no other, special way to do it.”

“Your instructions make no sense, the only prompt you’ve given is to write it , and you’re treating me like I’m the insane one for asking questions.”

“You graduated undergrad, yes?" When Loki didn't immediately answer, he continued. “Answer the question.”

“Obviously,” Loki spit, with an indignant shake of his head.

Dr. Mobius’ face fell, deadly serious. “Then act like it.”

He might as well have reached up and slapped Loki across the face.

The other glaring problem that semester was that Loki, despite himself, grew rather quite fond of Dr. Mobius. Even though when he showed up unannounced in his office, he knew he was bracing himself for a scathing back and forth, there was something about it that was thrilling . It was a challenge. He wanted it, because it had been so long since he’s been able to find an actually worthy opponent. And despite Mobius’ best efforts, there was a real, genuine part of him that cared, too.

So he finished. His first year of post-grad left, and when the second one came, Loki just kept going to Mobius’ office. A few weeks after that, Mobius closed the door behind Loki:

“Why the door?” Loki asked, thumb pointed at it over his shoulder.

Mobius faltered for a moment. “I just figured my colleagues are probably tired of hearing our crap.”

From there, the dynamic shifted. It was less student-professor, more peer-to-peer. They were both adults, after all. They talked about how Mobius was pretty securely tenured, how Loki could go about getting a teaching job when things were said and done, and, most bizarrely to Loki...him. Mobius had this morbid curiosity about Loki as a person and not just another graduate student. There was this genuine passion for learning about his life—every spare tidbit that Loki happened to let slip was something that, when asked about, Mobius genuinely seemed to care.

Sometime in the early Spring, Mobius asked about his mother.

“You mentioned her once,” he clarified when Loki sat up in the chair, sitting up as well. “I didn’t ask then, but…”

He could’ve left. He could’ve gotten up, threatened Mobius’ job for crossing boundaries like that, and never stepped foot in the office again. Maybe last year he would’ve done exactly that. But there was a part of him that was just so...seen by Mobius. That he wasn’t just that guy who tries to climb to the top by taking the easy way out or stirring up a ruckus to cover his tracks. 

“She passed while I was in high school,” he said slowly instead. “I was always much closer with her than I was with my father. She certainly cared a lot more.”

“I’m sorry. That must’ve been terrible for you.”

The sincerity struck hard. Loki, before he could help himself, snapped, “You don’t know me.”

“I know quite a bit, actually,” Mobius said, shockingly sincere, “but I’d like to learn more.”

On the last day of his second year, Loki finally let himself be impulsive.

It was just this...ache. The thought of leaving him for a few months, to forget about him and think that he was just another student that Mobius talked to like this. He didn’t want it. He kind of hated it, actually.

“I’ll see you in the fall, then,” Mobius said as he stood to follow Loki to the door. 

“Right.”

"Have a nice summer, Loki."

Loki took three steps out the door. Mobius closed it behind him. He took about one more half-step before cursing, turning on his heel, and bursting right back into the room.

“What are you doing?” Mobius asked, a laugh bubbling up as Loki walked back in.

Well, stormed in. He crossed the room briskly, grabbed Mobius by that weird, skinny little tie, and pulled him up into a kiss.

Whatever nagging part of his brain that was worried that Mobius didn’t actually care about him went quiet that day.

During the summer, their relationship kicked off in full swing. If they were honest, it moved a bit fast. But then again, they were both kind of beating around the bush for an entire year before that. Loki spent a lot of time, if not the whole summer, at Mobius’ home, trying and succeeding to distract him from creating a syllabus for the next academic year. And “swimming”. (Let’s just say that Mobius was glad he didn’t have any neighbors closeby).

In his third week of his third year, he got pulled out of one of his courses and toted down to the dean’s office. There, already sitting in a seat, sat Mobius, who didn’t look over at him once during the entire meeting. To be honest, Loki didn’t remember most of it, the man in charge and his two lackeys ran their mouths like they just wanted to hear themselves talk. Something about being glad they caught wind before the teachers and students knew anything. What garbage. What he did remember, though, was Mobius walking out ahead of him and him jogging to catch up.

“Can we at least talk about this like proper adults?”

Mobius stopped briefly to turn and let Loki catch up and stop bouncing around both of his sides to get his attention. “They threatened to take away my tenure. Do you know how embarrassing that is, Loki? I went out on a limb for you. I know you always manage to somehow avoid consequences, but you’re not talking your way out of this one. Not this time. As far as I’m concerned, this,” and he gestured between the two of them, “is over.”

Despite the knot in his throat, Loki barrelled on. “And you’re just going to take that lying down? What happened to all that talk from the summer? You talk a big game about free will for someone who has nothing to say when someone higher up suggests anything different.”

Mobius sighed and whipped his head away from Loki. “Stop it.”

Loki glanced back at the door they just left from, where one of the men whose name he never learned stared at them from the doorway. “You’re a coward. You’re an absolute coward, Mobius.”

They went their separate ways.

For about...two hours. That was the plan, after all.

Mobius’ office was a bit of a mess after that one. And Loki was quite grateful they put that blind over the door window.

Frankly, it was a miracle that he even got hired at the school after all that. Loki was strategic about his application process. He waited a solid year after graduation before even applying, he had an impressive resume, and no other alumni of the school had applied at the same time as him. (He may have made sure that those resumes never hit the Dean’s desk. If Mobius asks, no he didn’t.) Loki probably pushes it a bit now that he's hired, but his end-of-semester reviews must’ve been good enough to keep him employed.

As he makes his way around the corner to his office, the student—Rebecca? Sarah?—is knocking on his door rather aggressively. Good. This is one he could afford to keep waiting.

His office is tucked in the corner, where most people would completely miss it if they weren’t looking. It’s the end cap of the hallway, and instinct tells you to continue straight down the hall, directly past him. Loki takes to keeping the door open and playing music on days he has a lot of meetings.

“I’m so sorry,” he sighs, making a show of scrambling to get his keys out despite them being in his hand as he walks up, “I got held up by Miss Minutes on the way. Do come in.”

Her dirty look softens up—whatever her name is has a rather soft spot for that woman in particular—and she smiles. “I was just worried I missed our meeting time.”

Loki gives his best polite laugh. “Perfectly alright to be worried.”

The office is...cluttered. Even he can admit it’s not a very functional room, at least to anyone that isn’t him. Filing cabinets, folders everywhere, plants spilling out of their pots and on top of papers that Loki has no clue of their origin. He’s lucky there are even things that aren’t in boxes, because if he had it his way, that’s exactly what it would still be. Since it’s not, though, mostly at Mobius’ insistence, the bookshelves are full of a mix of textbooks, plays, poetry, and multiples of assigned readings for his classes (in case a student can’t afford it, or simply doesn’t want to buy it). It’s a system that really only makes sense to Loki.

Three chairs sit in a semicircle, facing Loki’s desk. (He tends to give up on sitting behind it and just sitting on top of his papers in front of the students a lot of the time.) A soft-looking rug takes up a majority of the floor, a golden color that warms up the whole space, especially with the dark walls that can make it feel small. On those walls there are pictures, but surprisingly, not many of them are of friends or family. His degrees, maps, a children’s drawing of the mystical Thor.

As he sits down behind his desk, he casts a quick glance around it, mostly to figure out what this student’s name is and why, exactly, she insisted on this meeting. There, where nobody looks but himself, is a framed photo of Mobius and himself at his Master’s conferral of degrees, not too long ago at all. Really for the best that it worked out the way it did.

Chapter Text

Right now, Dr. Mobius is standing in front of one of Loki’s bookshelves, arms behind his back as his eyes scan the spines. James, who is waiting in a chair at the other end of the hall for Valkyrie to be done with her last meeting, is staring at this man’s back like he’s going to disappear if he blinks. The only reason he even knows Dr. Mobius is because Steph had a class with him last semester, and she complained about it from time to time. From his vague memory, he’s a very mysterious teacher. The type who will simply claim things to be on the midterm, despite them never making an appearance on the actual paper when the day comes. The type whose jokes don’t exactly land all the time. Dr. Mobius turns towards where James knows Loki’s desk is, and he’s smiling towards the man presumably sitting there. The door’s open, so Loki’s there.

James whips out his phone and shoots a frantic text to Steph.

James: do loki and dr mobius know each other???? mobius is in his office???

Steph: HUH

WHAT

oh my god

James swallows and looks back over. Dr. Mobius, still facing Loki, plucks one of the books off the shelf without looking. He then walks out of sight from the doorframe, and James swears under his breath. He wants, more than anything, to jump up and...he’s not sure, catch them in the act? What act would that even be? Oh, Jesus, he’s going to start up another rumor mill in the English department. This is worse than that old professor who had a kid with one of the professors within the department while they both worked there.

Whichever student that’s been hogging Valkyrie walks out of her room and speeds down the hall, and James has to snap out of it and hop off the chair. He knows those two professors are friends...so what if she knows something that no one else does? The question is on the tip of his tongue, but he knows he shouldn’t. He is, however, still watching the open door, and Valkyrie pops out to grab him.

“James?”

James hums and smiles at her. She casts a worried glance down the hall, and James can’t help but follow her gaze. Dr. Mobius, now holding a book and looking exactly at them, smiles politely and exits to the left. Well, alright then.

“Come in before I skip you altogether. What did you want to talk about today?” Valkyrie says as she beckons James into the room. 

Well, Valkyrie, is there a possibility that Dr. Mobius is an interdepartmental floozy, who is not only cheating on his own spouse but making Loki cheat on his? “I, uh, my journals, if you don’t mind.”

Twirling a pen in between his fingers, Loki watches the ceiling as he talks. “—not to mention that my students spent ten minutes trying to get my opinion on Call Me By Your Name every time I tried to get us back on topic. And the movie is just awful if you think about it. An age gap like that is just going to lend itself to a power imbalance, and normally I love a good power imbalance—”

“Our entire relationship started because of one,” Mobius interjects, still browsing the books in Loki’s bookshelf, hands clasped behind his back.

Loki snaps his head over at Mobius and points the pen at him. “Exactly. Which is great, and I love it, obviously. But the problem in that film is that the boy, whatever his name was, was underage and that was a main source of the inequality of the film. So when Armie Hammer, who, by the way, may or may not be a cannibal , leaves at the end, I was almost relieved for the boy. He doesn’t need that kind of toxicity in his life.”

“I see why your students wanted to hear it so bad,” Mobius teases, tilting his head to read the title of one of the books. “You should really organize these better.”

Loki, whose feet are kicked up on his desk, shrugs. “How often do I really need to read them, anyway?”

“Touché,” Mobius laughs, still looking them over. “You don’t have any of mine?”

“You refuse to give me any copies for free.”

When Mobius looks over at him, he’s smiling, and Loki rolls his eyes. “I worked hard on those, I can’t just hand them out to anyone.”

Loki lifts his legs off the desk and slowly, deliberately, leans forward on his elbows over the desk. “Not even your husband? ”

Mobius hums as though he’s really pondering this, but his eyes—which flick down to Loki’s arms and then back up to his face—betray him. “I’d have to really think about it. I can't just let you use my love for you against me. Stab me in the back.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Just because I said that one time, doesn't mean you get to hold it over me forever."

"Doesn't it?" Mobius laughs.

"Besides, you think too much."

Mobius, without looking, plucks one of the books off the shelf and starts towards his desk. Loki glances to see which one it is—honestly, it’s probably one that he stole from Mobius at some point in the past few years. It certainly isn’t one he immediately recognizes. 

“You can’t be a professor and not think too much,” Mobius says, flipping the book in his hands once. “But I guess they hired you, so.”

“ Cold , Moby,” Loki mutters, lifting his head to keep Mobius’ gaze as he keeps approaching to tower over him. He plucks the book from Mobius’ hands and sets it onto his desk. “You’re going to have to try harder than that to let me let you steal from my office.”

Mobius hums again and leans down to kiss Loki. As he does this, he takes the book back off the desk. When they pull apart, Loki mumbles, “I saw that.”

Mobius whispers back, “I know,” before pecking Loki’s lips one more time.

“Don’t you have a class to get to or something?”

“Ooh, you are smart, then.”

Loki laughs and shoves Mobius back with a hand in the middle of his chest before gesturing with a sweeping motion down his body. “Obviously.”

As Mobius leaves, he catches Valkyrie and a student he doesn’t know glance at him. Naturally, he smiles, and turns to leave down the hall. He falters in his step for a moment, though, wondering what the hell all that was. Of course people can be curious, but if this whole thing means even more people don’t trust him? Might have to be something that they deal with.

Although, honestly, he’s kind of still having fun keeping it under wraps.

A few minutes after she says goodbye to James, Valkyrie is still drumming on her desk, watching the door. She’s had quite a few bad feelings about Loki since he started working at the TVA, and she hates it every single time. For someone who loves to hear himself talk so much, he’s somewhat of a mystery to her.

That’s what makes this whole Mobius thing so confusing.

She hasn’t spent much time with him, if at all. Maybe some group meetings, maybe a simple greeting as they’ve passed in the halls. His reputation, however, precedes him—he has a deep passion for history, he (and his reviews) are unpredictable, and while he does respect authority, his brand of following the rules involves bending them slightly to his will. He’s not often the topic of conversation during her conversations with Ravonna, but lately he has been coming up just a touch more. Specifically in the same sentence as Loki. And that worries her.

It’s just that Loki is...difficult. He never gives a straight answer, and sometimes Valkyrie thinks he looks right through her. In the past few months she’s never quite heard so many conversations from other professors about his antics, ranging from all-nighters spent grading to napping in his office with the door open all the way to a class that he let out half an hour early just for fun. Now, what Ravonna said is ringing in her ears: “I’m worried that he’s going to be a bad influence on Mobius.”

“How come?” Valkyrie asked, and Ravonna sighed.

“Mobius is...he’s got this kind of soft spot for the underdog. But this specific dog looks like he might bite.”

Valkyrie pushes herself up out of her chair and walks down the hall to Loki’s open door. She knocks on the frame twice before she pokes her head in to see Loki turn his head from his computer monitor and smirk at her. “Good afternoon, Valkyrie.”

Crap. This is one office she definitely should’ve come prepared with a plan for. “Hi. One of my students that I advise asked about what courses you were teaching next semester and I wasn’t sure. Do you...know yet?”

Loki looks dubious, but Valkyrie doesn’t waver. “I can certainly check for you. I haven’t written the course descriptions yet, I know that, but I can shoot you an email with the information.”

“Right.” Valkyrie takes a second to glance around the office—which, she realizes now, she’s never actually stepped inside of. It’s quite nice, although he hasn’t really taken advantage of the windows he has by keeping mostly closed shades over them. 

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” Loki asks slowly as he folds his hands together, and Valkyrie has a very strong desire to leave and never come back. It’s the cadence with which he says it that makes her think that he knows exactly why she actually came into this room.

“No, thank you,” Valkyrie says with her best smile, tipping her head slightly before she turns to leave.

Loki, however, is apparently not done. “He borrowed a book, if that’s what you’re so concerned about. But if I were you,” he pauses when Valkyrie turns to look at him, scrunching his nose and smiling, “I would stick to your own business.”

Valkyrie doesn’t have it in her to smile, this time. “Just send me the email.”

Loki grins wolfishly. Valkyrie should’ve left faster. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Text

Something that Mobius learned quite early on is that Loki is hard to read. In class he always wanted to find a way out of things—whether it be the class itself, boring lectures, a paper that was five pages too long for his liking. It didn’t matter. But it fascinated Mobius, more so than he let on (or, he supposes, thought he let on).

Loki is very perceptive. He likes to know what’s going on, where it’s happening, and how he can get a leg up by knowing this information. On the first day he sat as close to the door as possible without just not even showing up at all. He would pry about other teachers to know if he should take their courses, the inner workings of the upper staff, everything. Ask leading questions during class that he hoped would give him some kind of insight into the way Mobius’ head worked. Perhaps he figured because he was among the oldest of the other graduate students, he had earned the right to this knowledge. The thing that bothered Mobius the most, however, was he couldn’t quite figure out what Loki was gaining by coming into his office almost every day.

It started as classwork. That much was obvious enough. It wasn’t a matter of getting to know his professors or trying to get help with the class, like most of his other office hours tended to be (if anyone actually showed up.) There was almost a disdain that Loki carried with him whenever he showed up that Mobius, frankly, didn’t care for one bit. Why come back to school if you’re not going to take it seriously? He didn’t have any respect for the system, and yet he kept returning. So the only logical explanation was that he took the system so seriously that he wanted to get into it himself. Once Mobius figured it out, everything made sense.

“Do you want to be a professor?” Mobius asked one day towards the end of that first semester. Loki didn’t look up from where he was picking at his nails.

“Why would I want that?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing here?” This made Loki look up. Slowly, with that hardened look on his face that Mobius knows he just slammed over whatever accidental vulnerability that he might have shown. “You don’t like when you’re not in control, that much is pretty clear. You respect authority, sure, but why respect it when you can be it? You may take my job if I’m not careful.”

Loki scoffed. “I don’t want your job.”

Mobius hummed. “So you do want one.”

A grin spread across Loki’s face. “I suppose you’ll write me a stellar letter of recommendation.”

That was the leg up that Loki wanted. It made complete sense, so much that it almost eased the inner turmoil that Mobius would feel every time he would start caring just a little bit more about that delinquent. It’s easy to file feelings away—Mobius had felt like he’d been doing it his whole life—and for a while that was an easy folder to separate that into. Once Loki would move on from his class, he would keep in just enough touch to remember to get that letter when all was said and done.

Then he kept showing up. And it got harder to make that excuse anymore.

The problem with relationships, Mobius had found, is that typically one person is much more invested than the other. Any form of relationship, really, and this one was no different. Mobius, despite his best interests, was genuinely interested in not only what Loki’s grand plan was, but understanding the man himself behind it all. There were quick, fleeting moments where Loki would say something that made him believe that he, too, was invested in their relationship, whether they be mentions of his family or questions back to Mobius outside the standard ‘how are you?’.

Loki, having glanced at one very particular photo on Mobius' wall every few minutes, finally pointed at it with an incredulous look on his face. “Do you own a jet ski?”

Mobius, playing like he didn’t notice Loki’s newfound interest in this picture, turned to look where he was pointing and smiled. “Every summer I try to get to the shore and rent one. The guys there all know me at this point, but no, I don’t have my own.”

“Why not?”

Mobius’ heart, the traitorous bastard, picked up slightly when he looked back at Loki and saw that look on his face. He was fully invested in finding out this entire story, watching him with an intensity that Mobius only really saw when he was taking exams last year. “I just think it’s the perfect vehicle. It's sleek, it's fun, it's the feeling of being on the open sea without the stress of taking care of an entire boat. My family used to rent them way back, too. It's a great memory all around."

"Oh," Loki mumbled. "I've definitely never been on one."

"Not many people have. It's a shame. You should definitely try it some time."

"Maybe with the right teacher."

See, that was so baffling to him, too. Because what possibly could Loki gain from flirting with him? It’s impossible to tell what, exactly, Loki was getting out of their whole...interaction. Even after he rushed back into the office and kissed him, it just made things even more complicated.

From the months of learning from Loki, Mobius knew that he felt that relationships of any kind were something to be wielded to an advantage. A friendship at a restaurant can get you a free drink. A professor who likes you can get you through the class with flying colors. Up to a point, Loki had been very strategic about his relationships. And it was very clear that Loki was flying by the seat of his pants, too.

When he was at Mobius’ home, for example, he always had this urge to vacate a space if he spent too much time in it with Mobius. If Loki had slept over, rarely would Mobius wake up with him still in the bed. Loki had a problem with personal space, but only for short bursts—almost like at any moment he expected to be shot down and cast aside for Mobius’ personal gain. It hurt Mobius, honestly, that he felt like he had to move through life like this.

One morning, Mobius had woken up before Loki. It wouldn’t be long before the other would wake up, slide in close to wrap an arm around Mobius’ waist, and press his lips to the back of his shoulder. He always ran cold. Mobius found it rather charming. Loki made his move to slide out of bed and do whatever it was he did in the mornings, but Mobius grabbed his wrist lightly and muttered, “Too early.”

He could feel Loki tense just as quickly as he had tried to leave, still not quite settled back onto the bed, but also not trying to move his wrist from Mobius’ grasp. Mobius rolled onto his back and peered up at Loki, who watched him like a spooked horse. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Leave.”

Loki dragged his teeth over his bottom lip nervously. “Old habits, I suppose.”

Mobius hummed. “All about control.”

A smile finally crept onto Loki’s face. “I assume you have a theory about me.”

“Oh, when don’t I. I think you realized that you’re past the point of using me for your own gain at the TVA.”

Loki settled back down onto his side. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. You’ve invested more than you thought you would, and now you’re nervous that I’m going to spin this around on you.” Mobius turned his head to look properly at Loki. “I’m not, by the way.”

So, Loki confessed. For as long as he remembered, every relationship he had ever seen had had some element of gain to it. His father married his mother with the sole purpose of starting a family. A bad relationship when he was younger that revealed itself to just get close enough to his brother. His brother never talked about his relationships, but they were never stable enough for him to get much out of them. Quick hookups, ways to sneak into bars, getting into a place he shouldn’t be—that’s all he’s known. It was just to get him by.

Mobius was very close to marriage, once. A very, very long term relationship with a woman that ended when they finally grew apart. His proposal was an attempt to pull them closer—and it worked for about two weeks. But they were two very different people, and they learned to understand that that was okay. It caused quite a ripple in his family, since all of them were so attached to the idea of her joining the family, but in the end, it was okay.

“How is that okay?” Loki asked, head propped up on his hand.

Mobius shrugged. “Life works in mysterious ways, Loki. Some things are just destined to happen. And it’s easier to follow along with it than to question everything at every step of the way. Sometimes order amidst all that chaos is nice to lean back on."

Loki smirked. "So you'd call my whole little stunt 'fate' then, would you?"

Mobius laughed. "Well, maybe it was. I certainly didn't get a say in it."

Learning to read Loki wasn't exactly easy, but Mobius liked to think he put in extra effort to do so. His intentions are actually quite simple to pin down once you get past all the masks and carefully placed words—he wanted order. He wanted a routine to fall into, a passion to lose himself in, a direction in life that was exciting, yet familiar.

That morning, and most after that, Loki would slide back down into the bed and press close to Mobius, because he knew that that was what he was meant to do. If he didn't, it was perfectly okay, because these things take time.

"So what is love, to you?" Loki would ask on a beach late at night, the two of them laid out on the sand with no real intentions on moving just quite yet.

There would be a long pause. Long enough for Loki to lift his head and make sure Mobius hadn't fallen asleep on him. Finally, Mobius would say, "Love is understanding."

Chapter Text

“Moby,” Loki sighs, thunking his hands down on the large book in front of him, “I thought you loved me. Why are you making me read all this nonsense?”

The two of them sit in one of the classrooms tucked in the back of the library, hidden amidst all the lines of old books and desks donated by odd groups of people over the years. The library is one of Loki's least favorite places on campus, yet it remains Mobius' favorite—there is just something about the organized chaos of it all that Mobius absolutely adores. Loki thinks they could trim down the collection a bit. And that's coming from the English professor.

“I’m trying to find relevant resources for one of my students, and you are going to help me because you have nothing better to do than come in here and annoy me.”

Loki glares as hard as he can at Mobius’ forehead, which (unfortunately) hasn’t had the desired effect on the man in years, if at all. During his post-grad it maybe, maybe worked once. Despite it, though, Mobius looks up with that look that Loki’s mental narrator has helpfully defined as “amused disappointment”, and Loki huffs. “And you just believe I’m going to be able to figure out if it’s relevant or not?”

Mobius smirks. “Don’t you always?”

“Oh,” Loki breathes with a laugh, ducking his head. “Oh, you cheeky…”

Mobius laughs and knocks his foot to the inside of Loki’s ankle twice. “Don’t English and History overlap a lot, anyway?”

“Quite a bit indeed. But I’m sure you’ve heard that lecture a couple times by now.”

“Oh yes,” Mobius laughs, leaning back in his chair and sliding the textbook with him. “Maybe once or twice, it’s really hard to say.”

Loki hums, satisfied. The two of them both know that Loki does not have to put in any work whatsoever to actually find this research. But, with this new arrangement, old habits die hard. When he was still a student, this would be the only way to keep the Dean out of their asses. Now, however, it’s just become standard practice. It’s not like Loki minds reading all that much, anyway.

This routine is common regardless. Mobius absorbs himself in a textbook or six, while Loki half-heartedly helps until he decides to say 'fuck it' and go to sleep, no matter the time of day. (Granted, Loki has this talent to fall asleep anywhere, which Mobius finds both impressive and inconvenient.) When he was a student, he would try his best not to fall asleep. "His best" just happened to be "not very."

But things have changed, so now, instead of pretending to read whatever boring, long-winded essay on Shakespeare that Mobius placed in front of him, he crosses his arms, plants his chin on top of them, and watches Mobius read. 

The first time he did this, Mobius glanced at him a bunch before laughing and asking, "What?"

Loki, honestly, didn't realize it was odd. "Hm?"

"You're watching me read," Mobius explained. "Do you want me to read aloud?"

"Please don't." Loki wet his lips and moved his gaze to Mobius' hands before admitting, "I used to do this with my mother. I actually find reading out loud annoying, but it was...fascinating to watch her read. Almost like I could hear her saying it out loud regardless."

Mobius smiled, then, that small and secret smile that he reserves for only Loki, teeth poking out ever so slightly, eyes scrunched up at the edges. "Alright then."

Eventually, though, he falls asleep. He always does, even when he was a kid. This time is no different—Mobius looks up to see Loki's head on his arms, napping away, shoulders moving gently with every deep breath. He smiles and turns his attention back to the book in front of him.

Sylvie has stopped dead in her tracks in the row in front of this classroom. Inside are two professors she didn't even know knew each other outside of what she thought were baseless and useless rumors. But no, Loki is asleep in front of Dr. Mobius of all people. Dr. Mobius is up there with her least favorite faculty—his brand of fake-cheeriness and belief in finding the simplicity of the chaos of the past makes her dread any godforsaken history class she ends up having to take with him. She's been yelled at one too many times about taking assignments seriously to give a shit about keeping whatever this silent.

When Sylvie caught wind of those whispers, she thought it was absolutely crazy. From what she did understand about Loki, he was a free agent. Whatever husband had locked him down was simply lucky to have even managed to get a ring on that finger. But, clearly, her assumption was partway right—it's just that Loki has awful taste in paramours.

Sylvie smirks to herself. This is going to be good, and she could use this to soar through with flying colors. Sylvie turns on her heel and forgets whatever book she was looking for in favor of pulling open her phone to shoot Dr. Mobius about his office hours the next day. She has to go find Ravonna.

There's not even a knock when Sylvie bursts into Loki's office, and yet Loki is already sitting on his desk, smirking at the door frame, as she does. She stops, plants her feet firmly, and states, "I need you to be on my thesis committee."

"I thought you'd never ask," Loki chuckles, waving a hand towards one of the seats. "Although I'm a bit confused as to why."

Sylvie is...interesting, to put it mildly. She's very strong-willed and independent, and if she had her way, she wouldn't have any interference from the staff at the TVA whatsoever. According to other professors she can be rather hostile if they ask her a question unprovoked—there are the rules at the TVA, and then there are Sylvie's rules. The two do not overlap.

Except, oddly enough, when it comes to Loki. He had her last semester, which made his first semester as a professor rather interesting. A lot of people in various departments, apparently, were dumbfounded when they heard that Sylvie came into Loki's office after their second class together to discuss her work. If he were being honest, he finds her rather brash and irritating, but in a way that's almost exciting. He certainly prefers their meetings to some of the other drones that tend to linger around the English department.

"Well you're always flapping your gums about how important language is to history," Sylvie explains as she kicks her legs up onto the side of the couch, "and I think you would provide some artsy fartsy insight that the boring History department won't bring."

There's a challenging look in Sylvie's eye when she namedrops that department, but Loki has mastered the art of schooling his features to reveal nothing. "I see. Can I ask who else is on your committee?"

"I have a feeling you already know."

Loki tilts his head slightly. "I'm afraid I'm none the wiser."

"Ravonna and Dr. Mobius. Will that be a problem?"

Sylvie watches Loki's face for some sort of tell, but Loki just smiles wider. "It will be lovely to get their insight on this project. I look forward to it."

Sylvie hums and narrows her eyes just slightly at Loki. Her meeting with Mobius went just about as well as this one did. Ravonna was more than happy to listen to her ramblings—it seemed like she, too, was concerned about whatever it was Loki and Mobius were getting up to. The other two were definitely stonewalling her in their own unique ways. She didn't care for it one bit.

"I'll set up a meeting for all of us to go over my thesis next week," Sylvie says as she hops up, not looking back at Loki as she goes. "Shoot you an email."

"Right."

Although it's the weekend, Mobius' internal clock still wakes him early, so he's already on his phone when the email from Sylvie comes through. He can't stop Loki's before it makes a noise, though, and the mass of blanket that makes up his husband stirs and pokes his head out just enough for Mobius to see his eyes. Mobius moves his free hand to push Loki's hair out of his face.

"Sylvie sent us that email."

Loki groans and presses his face into Mobius' chest. "At this hour? Gods she's annoying."

Mobius chuckles softly. "She doesn't like me at all. I don't know why she asked me, I think she knows that the feeling's very mutual."

Loki struggles to get his arm free from the blanket to limply slap Mobius' phone out of his hand and off bouncing to the side. "Don't care."

"Right," Mobius whispers, shifting lower into the bed so Loki can properly wrap himself up against Mobius' body.

"Go back to sleep," Loki grumbles into Mobius' chest, "you're ruining my Saturday with her nonsense."

Mobius can hear Loki's smile when he says it, and he braces himself for the inevitable—Loki makes a quiet noise of effort and slings himself over to completely lay on top of Mobius, arms bracketing either side of his head, grinning down at him not even inches from his face. Mobius reaches a hand up to smooth Loki's hair back, and Loki leans into the hand. "Are you going back to sleep?"

"I need an offer I can't refuse to stay up," Loki murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to Mobius' lips.

"What about a meeting with Sylvie at 5 o'clock Monday?" Mobius jokes before he can help himself, and Loki groans and flops dramatically off Mobius and onto his side, facing away from him.

"It's gone, the moment's over," Loki grumbles.

Mobius, still laughing, shifts and reaches to get an arm around Loki's waist. He tucks a kiss into Loki's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You better make it up to me."

"See? The moment's not over after all."

Loki heaves a loud and long sigh, as if he's putting in so much effort to roll onto his other side and face Mobius. "You owe me."

Mobius hums. "I always do."

Chapter Text

A new problem has presented itself for Ravonna.

It’s just that...well, she’d rather not say.

But Mobius definitely has a hickey that pokes out of the top of his shirt collar when he moves a certain way. And now that image is seared into her eyeballs forever.

She’s happy for Mobius, she thinks. Maybe his marriage is finally on the up and his husband got a little bit, er, excited. Except in the many years that she has worked in his department, she has never once seen...that. On him. Like that.

It's also not helping that she's stuck between Mobius and Loki for this meeting with Sylvie, and it doesn't keep her mind from wandering. Nice knowing that Sylvie and a fair amount of the student body share her sentiments that something is happening here, though. She doesn't quite know what Sylvie's endgame is currently, though, having them all on her committee. Maybe she just wanted an excuse to get them all together and...what? Try and shake some information loose?

Ravonna and Mobius have been steadily jotting down notes as Sylvie presents them with a surprisingly succinct list of ideas for her thesis, but Loki has been mostly kicked back in the chair, fidgeting with the pen he'd brought for the notes he isn't taking. 

Every time Mobius ducks his head to write, Ravonna can spot that hickey out of the corner of her eye, and it's massively distracting. Finally, though, Sylvie finishes her speech and turns to Loki. "Thoughts?"

"I'm excited," Loki says, sitting up in his chair finally. "You seem to have a pretty solid grasp on what you're doing, so I don't know how much you'll even have to consult with us."

"I just need to have a committee so the TVA doesn't start poking their nose into my business," Sylvie explains, and she looks right at Mobius when she says, "I don't particularly care for your help in the writing process."

Mobius, despite the very clearly pointed comment, smiles. "Great. I'm assuming I can speak for all of us when I say that if you change your mind, we're around."

"Grand assumption," Loki interjects, pointedly glaring at Mobius, "it better be good if you show up at my door."

"Loki..." Mobius warns.

Loki waves his hands out defensively. "I'm being honest, just as she is. These things are about honesty, no?"

Although she could watch their oddly confrontational back-and-forth all day, Ravonna clears her throat and shifts in her seat. "I'm happy to help however I can."

"So insightful," Loki sighs as he stands up, knees pushing the chair backwards. "Are we done here?"

Ravonna casts a glance at Mobius and feels relief when he visibly looks as annoyed as Ravonna feels. She somehow expected Mobius to be amused by this little number of his, especially if they were...cavorting on the sidelines. When he looks up, though, she can still see that fucking hickey. It's a very confusing puzzle and there are definitely a significant amount of pieces missing.

Sylvie sighs. "Yes, we're done. But we will have to be in contact quite a bit, just so you're aware."

"As long as I'm in the email, I'm good."

With that, Loki is leaving the room. All three of them watch the door as he leaves, and Mobius is the first to turn around and shake his head disapprovingly.

"He lasted longer than I expected," Sylvie comments, and Mobius starts laughing quietly as he finishes up the notes in his notebook.

"It's a miracle he's even still working."

Ravonna shares a quick glance with Sylvie. Figuring she should test the waters, she asks, "Do you know that for sure?"

"Oh, no, just," Mobius waves a hand in the air vaguely, "He's really arrogant sometimes. That tends to not fare well in places like this."

"'Places like this' come with the job, Mobius," Ravonna says, her disappointed teacher voice shining through.

Mobius gestures to the middle of his chest with his right hand. "Hey, I know that."

Sylvie has been packing her things as they talk, and she finally finishes up and stands straight. "Right, well, I'll talk to you guys later, probably."

The two of them wave goodbye to her, but don't watch her go. It's probably better off for them if they don't, anyway. Mobius is still writing away in his book, probably half-cooked ideas for if/when Sylvie does eventually come around to ask for help. He's really good for those kinds of things. Ravonna knows that even if Sylvie kind of hates him, he truly means well.

Ravonna stands up and faces Mobius, who looks up expectantly. "Do you want to grab drinks tonight? It's been a minute, and I miss our talks."

Mobius smiles. "Sounds fun."

"Do you...um," Ravonna stops that train of thought in favor of pursuing a much more pressing one. She points a finger at her own neck and wiggles it. "You, uh, have. Something."

Mobius' smile falls, which makes Ravonna cover her mouth to laugh quietly. He adjusts the top of the collar, which doesn't help much, before thunking his hands back down onto his lap. "Has it been bad? I don't think I saw any students laughing at me during lectures today."

"Only when you look up," Ravonna explains, and Mobius visibly slumps in relief. "So, right now, it's just. Right there."

"I can't help it, I'm just always looking up to you," Mobius jokes, before standing up and holding his arm out for Ravonna. She obliges him, looping her arm in his as they walk out of the library together.

A normal Ravonna would just let that stand there. Instead, she bumps him with her shoulder lightly. "So you're getting some at home, huh?"

Mobius laughs and hangs his head. "I don't know if I feel comfortable having this conversation with you here."

"Fair, fair. Do you have to warn this husband of yours that I'm stealing you?"

"Oh, he won't care." Ravonna opens her mouth to ask a follow up, but Mobius beats her to it by saying, "And no, he won't want to come, either."

Damn. Maybe she can pry some information if she buys Mobius a nice enough scotch at the bar.

After a long lecture of pacing back and forth across the room and gesturing to the projector to make his point, Loki settles at the front of the desk and begins explaining the next week of assignments to a group of half-bored adults.

"I spent a long time with my husband trying to figure out how to section up this reading so it makes sense, so I expect you all to at least do me a favor and try your hardest," Loki finishes explaining, setting the unapologetically thick book down off to his side where he's leaning.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sylvie's hand fling up, and it takes all the strength in his body to not sigh. He knows good and well that the question isn't going to be relevant in the slightest.

"Yes, Sylvie?"

Her hand comes down and she smirks. "How did you meet your husband?"

Loki does sigh this time. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"I mean, class is almost over, you might as well tell us," she continues, leaning forward over the desk towards him.

Was he this annoying to Mobius? Damn, maybe he does owe him an apology. He glances around to look at the other students, who seem to be watching the two of them like they're watching a particularly thrilling tennis match.

"We met during school, actually," he explains, hopping up onto the desk to sit fully, folding his hands together in his lap.

"How long have you been married?" another student asks.

"Almost two years. Not very long at all."

Sylvie asks, "And you're happy?"

Someone in the back gasps, and Loki can't help but laugh. "Do I look un happy?"

Sylvie holds her hands up in defense. "Just killing time."

Loki twists the ring on his finger while he fields other questions from other students. The ring is rather simple, mostly black with a line of gold around the center. It certainly wouldn't be what he picked for himself—even Mobius was nervous that it was too simple when he did offer it up. But diamonds are overrated, and men's engagement rings are, for the most part, hideous. Regardless, they stray from his husband for a while, talking about pets and his job and how he thinks his first year is going as a whole. Sylvie remains mostly quiet, very clearly disappointed that she didn't get more out of the conversation.

"Can I ask who proposed?" James, who is on the opposite side of the room, asks, and Sylvie visibly sits up in interest.

Loki smiles. "He did."

"How?"

There are two versions of this story. This is the one they tell:

"We've always tried to get down the shore for at least two weeks over the summer, as long as we've been together. So, we went, and on our first night there, he proposed on the beach. Pretty simple."

They do this because the reality is so much more boring:

Loki had been half-dozing on their bed, his head on Mobius' shoulder. Neither of them had said much in the past few minutes, both making their way towards sleep but not quite willing to turn it in just yet.

Suddenly, Mobius asked, "Do you think you'll ever get married?"

Loki hummed. "Never really thought about it, honestly."

"How come?"

Loki shrugged. He remembers how fast Mobius' heart was racing, but then he didn't quite put two and two together. "Long term relationships weren't really my forte."

"Are they now?" Mobius asked, bringing one of his hands to flit through Loki's hair. "Your forte, I mean."

Loki chuckled. "It's really not terribly difficult."

"So?"

It took him, probably, a full minute to figure out what Mobius was asking. As soon as he got it, though, Loki shot up and stared down at him. Mobius had this little nervous smile on his face that Loki will probably never forget. First time he'd ever seen the other man nervous in front of him. "Are you serious?"

Mobius jut his chin towards the nightstand. "Check for yourself."

He climbed over Mobius (definitely crushing him a bit) and pulled open the drawer to find, sure enough, a small box with his ring inside. He sat on his knees for a while, turning the ring over between his fingers, staring at it while Mobius watched him. Finally, he held it out to Mobius with a teary-eyed smile. "At least do part of it yourself."

Mobius sat up properly and slipped the ring onto Loki's finger. A frankly obscene amount of tears were shed. They didn't move much for the rest of that night.

But that was a private moment, one that they don't indulge to anyone. It was theirs, and theirs alone.

Loki checks his watch and hops off the desk. "Alright, I'll see you Wednesday everyone. Make sure you submit your appropriate questions online so I have some time to form some answers for you. Or don't, I honestly don't care either way."

Mobius genuinely does like Ravonna. They've known each other for quite some time thanks to the TVA, although Mobius had found it in his own best interests to keep his private life private, especially with her. The degree she respects and follows the rules scares him quite a bit, although most of the time it usually is on his side. He knows in his gut, though, that if she had caught wind of the whole Loki situation during the first go-round, it probably would have gotten way worse way faster.

She's definitely suspicious of something, though, and it's kind of baffling to Mobius. He's not quite sure what's changed in the last few days, but maybe Sylvie's just making everyone on edge just a touch. Luckily, after a scotch and a few very strangely worded questions from Ravonna, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Loki: u ditched me for RAVONNA??? 😠

after everything we've been thru

Mobius smiles at his phone.

Mobius: You could always come if you want.

Loki: fuck no she doesnt like me

When Mobius looks up, Ravonna nods her head towards the phone with a small smile. "That your husband?"

Mobius sighs a laugh. "Yeah. Impossible as always."

Ravonna hums quietly and swirls her glass in her hands. It's clear that she wants to ask a follow-up, but Mobius doesn't really care for it.

"Are you getting out there?" 

Ravonna shoots Mobius a look before shaking her head. "I can't find the time. I don't even know how you managed to get married with all the shit going on."

Ah, yeah, there it is. Still, Mobius hangs his head and laughs. "It wasn't a big thing."

"It better not have been," she jokes, "you didn't invite me."

Mobius holds up the scotch glass, fingers spread. "Hey, we didn't invite anyone."

"That's sweet."

His phone buzzes again, and he glances at it.

Loki: come back drunk or not at all

"Thanks. It was . "

Mobius: Why??

Loki: ur more fun when ur drunk :P

Mobius slips his phone back into his pocket before that conversation gets any worse to have in a public space. Ravonna, who is still watching him with this look of mixed, half-restrained emotions, reaches out to place a hand on the outside of Mobius' shoulder.

"I'm really happy for you, you know."

Mobius glances at the hand, confused, but smiles. "Thanks."

"And I just want you to know if you need anything, or...want to talk, I'm around."

Mobius can't hide the confusion on his face when he replies, "...right."

On the other side of the bar, in a booth, Steph is poking her head over to make sure the two professors don't leave her line of sight.

"Come on come on come on," she mutters under her breath, glancing at her phone again as it rings, eyeing Ravonna as she drops her hand from Mobius' shoulder to throw her head back and laugh.

"What?" James grumbles when he picks up, very clearly woken up by her now fourth call.

"Ravonna and Mobius are getting drinks at the bar," she hisses. "I've literally never seen them together, and they're being all...touchy."

"Holy shit. Could they…?"

Steph looks over again and Mobius is talking with grand gestures, seemingly specifically to make Ravonna laugh. "Neither of them talk about their spouses, and I wouldn't be surprised if Ravonna didn't wear a ring and Mobius did."

James hums in agreement. "He gives off total wife guy energy."

"Exactly!" Steph says, a bit too loud, and she shrinks down more into the booth. "I don't know what the fuck is happening."

"Keep me posted."

As the night proceeds, Steph maintains a watchful eye, and Mobius and Ravonna finally head out after quite a few drinks at the bar. Mobius has a hand on the small of her back as they walk out, and Ravonna (who Steph thought she had a read on before tonight), doesn't seem bothered by it one bit. Steph, against her better judgement, snaps a photo and shoots a final text to James.

Steph: just walked out together. losing my mind atm !!!

Chapter Text

There are a few weeks where nothing happens. The rumor mill goes back underground in time for classes to pick up in full swing post-midterms, where everyone, under- and postgraduate, start gearing up for their finals with rapidly increasing speed.

Cold, damp weather makes way for blooming leaves and still-chilly breezes. Students start sitting outside whenever they can, hunched over wooden tables or laughing with their friends between classes. Mobius always feels that the campus sparks back to life in the Spring after a relatively dormant winter season; it makes his walks across campus that much more enjoyable to see everyone outside and having a good time. The added bonus this year, though, is that people get distracted by the nice weather and the pace of the semester, that they forget to keep gossipping about their professors’ private lives.

For the most part.

Mobius is sitting at his desk, eyes bouncing between the paper in front of him and his computer, when his door flies open and Sylvie storms in.

“No, please, come in,” Mobius deadpans, finishing up his next section of work before folding his hands together and lifting his head to look at her. She’s standing in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, glaring pointedly down at him.

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

Mobius furrows his brows in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Last week I watched you drop Loki off in the morning,” she starts, waving a hand as she talks. “Yesterday I hear one of his students talking about seeing the two of you in a hallway all...up close and personal with each other.”

He was wondering when she would remember that whole debacle. Loki told him all about his run-in with Valkyrie in exchange for details of his bizarre run-in with Ravonna that night a few weeks ago at the bar. He’s not an idiot, he hears everything that goes on within the walls of the TVA. The running theory that Loki seduced Mobius into cheating with his mystery spouse is, quite honestly, the most entertaining rumor that has happened during his tenure at the school. And he lived through the one where a student allegedly didn’t know what a fish was.

“I’ve heard you’ve been snooping around instead of working on your thesis,” Mobius says instead of a real answer, leaning back in his chair and schooling his features into a calm amusement.

Sylvie huffs indignantly. “Answer me.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I’m trying to help Loki out.”

Mobius clicks his tongue and smiles. “Aw, you like him. Thought you didn’t care about any of the staff here? They’re...oh, what was it? ‘Not worth your time and energy’?”

Sylvie, despite her best effort, looks a bit shocked. “Who told you I said that?”

“Walls have ears, Miss Sylvie,” Mobius says slowly, a smile spreading on his face.

The poor woman suddenly looks like she’s been thrown off her game, and Mobius can’t help but feel a little bad. He doesn’t want this rumor to spiral completely out of control, after all. He and Loki had decided that a little bit of fun never hurt anyone. Except maybe their respective, fictional spouses that they’re cheating on.

Mobius gestures to the couch for her to sit as he stands up and rounds the desk to sit in the chair next to it. She hesitates before sitting, and Mobius sighs as he follows suit. “Look, Sylvie. Nothing’s happening that isn’t completely above board. I’m glad you’re worried about Loki. It’s very sweet.”

Sylvie doesn’t look quite placated by this explanation. “That’s really all you’re going to offer me.”

“Like I said,” Mobius says, sweeping his hands out wide. “It’s none of your business.”

“You’re sick,” Sylvie spits, and Mobius breathes out a laugh.

“No, okay, come on, now you’re taking this even worse. I care about Loki, alright? I’m almost flattered you think that I’m a homewrecker, of all people.”

Sylvie cracks a smile. “It is a bit ridiculous.”

“He’s way out of my league,” Mobius says with a solemn nod of his head, and that gets Sylvie to chuckle. Seems like they made some progress together, too. 

Sylvie does mean well. She reminds him a lot of Loki in those early days—all bark, no bite. Desperate to know what was going on, but really just craving information from everyone who would give it to her. She definitely intimidates Mobius a touch more than Loki did, though. She seems eager to get out of this school and onto bigger and better things. Mobius genuinely wants that for her.

“Alright then,” Sylvie declares, standing up and heading towards the door. She spins around to look at Mobius, who hasn’t moved. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“But—” she interjects quickly with a point of her finger, “I’m watching you.”

Mobius holds his hands up in defense. “Like a hawk. I’ve got it.”

“I really think we should give it up.”

Mobius says this as he slides into the seat across from Loki in the dining hall, to which Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are so boring, Mobius.”

Mobius sighs. “I don’t like lying to them, Loki. They’re our students, our peers . We need them to trust us.”

“You’re not lying. You’re just,” Loki waves a hand around in the air, searching for the right words, “withholding some key truths.”

Mobius stabs his fork half-heartedly into the salad in front of him, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he decides to broach this topic. Finally, he asks, “It’s not ‘cause you’re embarrassed or anything, right?”

Loki gives him an incredulous stare and leans forward over the table. “Where’d that come from?”

Mobius sets the fork down again and smooths his fingers over his mustache nervously. “I don’t know! I don’t know, it’s just…” he thunks his hand down onto the table and looks up to meet Loki’s gaze. “People don’t expect it, right? That’s the key reason why everyone thinks that we’re cheating with each other. So when they do find out, you don’t think they’ll be a bit...disappointed?”

“What, that my husband is you and not some...twink supermodel from Hollywood?” Loki blurts, and Mobius covers his face with his hands to hide his laughter.

“Exactly,” Mobius mutters, voice muffled by his hands. 

He feels Loki try and pry his left hand away from his face with cold fingers. “Come on, you silly old man, look at me for a second.”

Mobius obliges, dropping his hands and letting Loki cover one of them with his own, across the table. He can’t explain the wave of nerves it brings with it, even though he knows it’s perfectly acceptable to hold his own husband’s hand in the dining hall. Maybe it’s still left over from the years of previous sneaking around—maybe that won’t disappear in just one year of working together.

“I’m just as surprised as they are that you managed to capture me,” Loki says softly. He’s still nervous around the edges with these types of feelings. “I am... so happy to be yours, for all time.”

Mobius grins and taps Loki’s ankle with his foot. “Always.”

“Besides,” Loki declares as he leans back into his seat, picking up his own fork again to continue eating. “I’m an absolute marvel to that eyesore of an English department. Who could blame them for being curious?”

That man, his husband , always had a knack for knowing what to say at the right time. Was it always emotionally mature? No, but neither was Mobius. Mobius watches him with a fond, exasperated smile for a few moments before they start to eat in a peaceful silence.

It's nasty, though, that feeling that Mobius gets sometimes. It's green, blinding, burning as it sears up his spine and makes itself home in the back of his throat. It's almost always irrational, has been ever since Mobius was young and would tear toys out of other children's hands because they were having just a little bit too much fun with them that he wasn't having. Over the years Mobius has tried to work on caring less, about going with the flow. But it's that damned jealousy that trips him up at the best of times.

Right now, that ache resides in his clenched jaw as he sits at the table that Loki left him at a few minutes ago, watching as the crowd of students he's accumulated watch him with unfettered glee. Mobius is not jealous of the attention, no. Nor is he worried that Loki is cheating or whatever garbage that apparently half the student body and his friends believe. What he is worried about is that somewhere in there, Loki is embarrassed that his husband is Mobius, of all people.

Because he is a marvel to the English department, isn't he? He's the youngest and the handsomest, the boldest and the newest. He's a breath of fresh air to a department that, like most, could use an upgrade or two. Even now Mobius can't really believe that he gets to go home to Loki waiting for him on the couch. 

That's precisely the problem, though, Mobius' irrational brain decides as Loki smiles along with whatever the students have been talking about. Loki is smart, but sometimes he's not quite self-aware. So he can talk the big talk about not being embarrassed, but when it comes to the walk…

" Mobius," Ravonna snaps, having appeared from thin air like she's wont to do. Mobius clicks out of his head to look up at her. "You still here?"

"Sorry," he says, forcing a close-lipped smile at her, "long day."

She turns to track his gaze. Great. Another level of things to worry about. She sighs and sits across from him, directly in his eyeline to Loki and the pips. "Tell me about it."

"I'd rather not."

Ravonna smiles and squints, challenging. "Try me."

Mobius casts a glance over Ravonna's shoulder at one of the students in the circle around Loki. They're smiling and nodding along with whatever words are being shared, probably about some rule or something at the TVA that Loki thinks is ridiculous. Mobius looks back at Ravonna and scrunches his nose quick, once. "Not today."

He gathers his things a little too haphazardly, stacking papers on his laptop, a folder on top for good measure. Mobius mutters an unintelligent goodbye and heads out the dining hall, crossing the threshold of Loki and the pips as he goes. Loki tries to catch his eye, but Mobius' gaze is trained forward, focused elsewhere.

If he were looking, he would have seen Loki's face fall just slightly when the eye contact was never made, before the smile comes back in full when another student chimes into the conversation. As he walks outside, Mobius takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. He's got a class to teach.

Chapter Text

Payton has her head propped in her hand as Dr. Mobius continues his lecture. It’s one of the last classes of the day, Thursday, and it’s clear that Dr. Mobius has absolutely no interest in being any easier on them because of it. It’s one of those lectures that Dr. Mobius scarcely takes a break during, in favor of giving them every single important piece of information they might need for the weekend’s homework assignment.

Behind him, on the screen, is a dense powerpoint that has most of the information that he is saying out loud. Dr. Mobius knows it so well that he barely has to glance behind him when the next slide begins, and the class of twenty starts up in a furious race to write everything down quickly so they can go back to thinking about which bar they might get to that night. If they don’t have a class like Payton does in the morning.

“My point, with talking about the most recent century of mythology,” Dr. Mobius continues with finality, pacing back across the front of his desk. “Is not to describe for you every single theory of mythology, because we would be here longer than any of us would like.”

A half-hearted chuckle smooths over the room. The metal door at the back squeaks open, and most of the students, Payton included, turn to look at Loki as he walks in, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and waits in front of the door as it makes its controlled close. Dr. Mobius’ eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Unless you’re here to share some wisdom on the mythological schools of thought, I’m not sure why you’ve swung by.”

An excited low murmur now fills the room. Loki exhales and dips his head a little bit as he smiles. “I can if I must. Finish your lecture, Dr. Mobius, by all means.”

When Payton looks back to the front, Dr. Mobius’ jaw works before he clears his throat and whistles to get everyone’s attention back at him. “As I was saying, I want you to find your own, new school of thought over the weekend. Branch out of your comfort zone. Pick a new world mythology to dig into. This will be the last one of these we do for the semester, so this should be an absolute breeze for you folks.”

Dr. Mobius dismisses them, but Payton and everyone else seem to suddenly have all the time in the world to pack his things and linger. Loki comes down the middle aisle as Dr. Mobius goes around the table to sit and start putting away his own things. Loki props himself against the side of the desk to talk to Dr. Mobius, who is more focused elsewhere. No one can really hear much of the conversation between the two of them, but Loki’s joyful demeanor has given way to something much more frigid—Payton catches herself staring and rushes to shuffle her papers away and get out of the office, despite how badly she wants to say and hear the drama. Behind her, Dr. Mobius hisses, “I don’t have time for this right now,” and when she glances back, Dr. Mobius has his thumb and forefinger pinched together, gesturing with it in the way he does when he’s trying to get a point across. Damn. She wouldn’t want to be Loki.

Loki honestly thought him showing up would be a nice surprise. It’s no secret he doesn’t have anything to do during Mobius’ last class, so it’s frankly a miracle that Loki hasn’t showed up before then. He’s not quite sure what the attitude is all about when he walks in, though. He wracks his brain to make sure he hasn’t done anything blatantly wrong as he waits for the lecture to finish.

Once he heads up to the front to make himself comfortable against Mobius’ desk, he grins. “Can I walk you home?”

Mobius is very busy putting his things away. It’s not even that much stuff. “My class didn’t need the distraction.”

“They were barely distracted,” Loki says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You couldn’t wait five more minutes?”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” he teases.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Mobius snaps back, and Loki recoils back slightly.

“Why not?”

Mobius sighs and scrubs a hand over his mouth. He finishes packing his stuff for a few seconds in silence; once, he glances up, and the rest of his students hurry out of the room. He waits for the door to close behind the final one before turning in his seat to look up at Loki. “I don’t want you interrupting my classes.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “That’s hardly fair—”

“Would you do that to any other professor?”

“No, but you’re not ‘any other professor’,” he says, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “You’re my husband.”

“Am I? Not according to the TVA, I’m not.”

Mobius stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder, making his way to the door. Before he can get too far, Loki snatches his wrist and makes him stop dead in his tracks. “You’re not walking away from this one.”

Mobius drops his head before turning around and lifting it to look at Loki. “We have to get out of the classroom.”

“I don’t care.”

Mobius glances back at the door before turning to face Loki. Loki drops his wrist, and Mobius’ hands immediately go to rest on his hips so he can watch Loki expectantly.

“Is that really what this is about? Because, need I remind you, you haven’t said anything to anyone either," Loki points out.

“That’s different.”

Loki raises his eyebrows. “How is that any different?”

“We never talked about this, Loki! I’m still operating under the rules we had when you were a student, and you seem more than happy to keep it that way.”

Loki swallows. He knows that them getting into arguments can blow up into something nasty—it has before, and there’s no doubt in his mind that it’ll happen again. They’re both fundamentally stubborn people, and although Mobius is more than willing to bend to Loki’s whims, there’s only so much that he can give. Which Loki gets. Or, is trying to get.

“Do you want me to just go out there and shout it from the rooftops?” Loki asks, gesturing towards the door. 

“No, I just—” Mobius sighs and drops his arms. “I don’t know.”

“You just want to fight for the sake of it then,” Loki continues, the words spilling out before he can stop himself. “Been too good for too long, has it?”

“Loki…” Mobius warns.

Apparently, though, Loki has had something building up inside himself too. Maybe it’s a mixture of stress of teaching for the first time and whatever it is they’ve been dancing around for the past few months—maybe it even goes back to how angry he was that they had to sneak around for three years together so Mobius wouldn’t get fired for falling in love. He’s not quite sure. “I don’t think you’d be happy even if we did tell everyone we were married.”

Mobius crosses his arms over his chest. “How come?”

“You’re a jealous man, Mobius,” Loki drawls, starting to circle his husband like a predator to their prey. “You’d just find something else to latch yourself onto, like me being Sylvie’s favorite like I was yours.”

Mobius scoffs and watches Loki as he moves. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, but it’s not rational, is it? It never is.”

Mobius presses his lips together before admitting, “I’m jealous of the attention you get, sure. But I trust you.”

“Do you?”

“ Yes,” Mobius sighs, reaching a hand out to hold the outside of Loki’s arm to make him stop. He sounds more sincere than he has since this entire little spat started, and it makes Loki relax a touch. “I just want to know what we’re doing. If we’re on the same page, it’s fun. If we’re not…”

“It ends up like this,” Loki finishes, and he cracks a smile. “I get it.”

Mobius echoes his smile and lets go of Loki’s arm. “You may walk me home, by the way.”

Loki chuckles and gestures grandly towards the door, bowing slightly and making Mobius roll his eyes. “After you.”

Mobius gives half a curtsy and laughs as he turns to head out of the classroom. Loki jogs a step to catch up with him, leaning over to press a kiss into his hair and making him shove the middle of Loki’s chest. 

"I can still shout it from the rooftops, you know," Loki points out.

"Please don't."

"Hey everyone," Loki whisper-shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Mobius is cheating with me, on me!"

Mobius laughs and bumps his shoulder into Loki's lightly. They don’t bother trying to stand any less close to one another as they go, Mobius’ shoulder continuing to bump against Loki’s as they walk and talk idly all the way back to Mobius’ office (which was the whole point of Loki coming in the first place, so he honestly considers the interaction a net positive). On the way they pass Valkyrie, who gives them a tight-lipped smile and half a wave.

“There are definitely people we need to keep this up with,” Loki murmurs as he leans close to Mobius’ ear, once Valkyrie has passed the two of them.

“Oh, one hundred percent. I want Ravonna to figure it out the hard way.”

Friday morning, Sylvie walks into Loki's office without warning. It's a terrible habit that she really needs to break out of, but Loki supposes he doesn't really care for other people's free time, anyway. It would be a bit hypocritical to lecture her on it.

"I…" Sylvie starts, before she shakes her head and clears her throat. "I wanted to apologize to you."

"Oh no."

Sylvie glares at him. "I mean about the whole you and Dr. Mobius thing. I figure I've been a bit of a pain in the ass about it."

"A bit," Loki agrees. If it were another student, they would probably be offended. But Sylvie must find it funny, because she smiles. It's a very calm smile, one that's a little bit timid, and Loki knows immediately that she is out of her comfort zone. 

"He cares about you."

Interesting. She thinks she's playing the mediator here. Loki hides his surprise at this sudden reveal of genuine care for himself and Mobius by smiling. "I know."

"Good, good," Sylvie mutters under her breath, looking around before sitting on what is basically her chair in the office. She's quiet for a few beats, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, before she leans forward and plants her elbows on her knees. "It's just that it really doesn't make any sense to me."

There it is. "What doesn't?"

"You. Him. You and him."

Loki's face spreads into a soft smile. "Me neither, if I'm honest. I think he has this...soft spot for broken things."

Sylvie looks quizzically at him. "You're broken?"

Loki shrugs. "Once upon a time, maybe. Aren't we all?"

"But you barely know each other."

Loki twists the ring on his finger, once, still holding Sylvie's gaze. Mobius, the absolute bastard, was right—maybe some part of him was worried that people would react poorly to them being married. Appearances have always played a huge part wherever he applies himself; it is the first thing that people see that can wildly change their opinion of you depending on how it goes. Loki has always held himself a certain, stuck-up way. And honestly, it's getting a little bit tiresome. That man is too damn smart for his own good. Loki will never admit that, though. On the one hand, they still have a charade to uphold for just a little while longer. On the other hand, Loki is almost positive that Sylvie can keep a secret.

"Well, funny you should mention it…"

Chapter Text

Mobius is laughing down at Loki, who is laying with his head in his lap as they sit on the couch together that evening. "Out of all the people—"

Loki waves his hands up towards the ceiling. "I know! But she just looked so...confused. Dejected over the whole thing. I put her out of her misery."

Mobius resumes his mindless petting through Loki's hair where it sits draped over the outside of his thigh. "And how'd she take it?"

Loki closes his eyes with a pleased smile. "Oh, just so well."

"You what?!" Sylvie exclaims as she bursts out of her seat. "You're joking."

Loki grins. "I'm not."

Sylvie jabs her pointer finger at Loki. "This has got to be some...some cruel, elaborate trick. You mean to tell me—"

"Mobius and I met while I was getting my Master's. We got married shortly after my graduation."

Sylvie tears her head away from Loki with a frustrated sigh, shifting on her feet to get some of her pent-up anger out before she whips her head back. "I don't believe you."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Come on, what did you expect? What possibly could I gain from lying to you about this?"

"You've been lying this whole time about not knowing him!"

Gods, she's daft. Loki folds his arms over his chest. "Have I? Nobody's thought to ask. I'm a little offended you think I'm some kind of…" he waves a hand back and forth, "floozy."

Sylvie grinds her teeth as she very visibly thinks of a response that isn't going to get her immediately kicked out of the office. "Why are you trusting me with this information?"

Loki leans forward and squints slightly, eyes challenging, as he says, "Nobody will believe you."

" Loki, " Mobius admonishes, "come on."

Laughing, Loki turns his gaze from the ceiling to Mobius, who's got that little disappointed smile on his face. "What?"

"You can't just say that to her."

Loki sighs dramatically. "I didn't leave her like that. After she freaked out a little bit more I told her that she could tell whoever, as long as she was sure they wouldn't tell Ravonna or Valkyrie."

"Ah," Mobius laughs, "so you're not as cruel as you look."

"No, but it was fun to see her flounder for a few minutes."

Mobius smiles down at him. It's a smile that Loki knows all too well—it's a hopeless one, kind of incredulous, that screams I can't believe that I'm in love with you . Mobius, if not in public, wears all of his emotions loud and clear on his face. If he lets someone in he lets them in fully; he trusts with his whole heart, and sometimes it's definitely led him astray. Otherwise Mobius is a closed book, telling people only what they need to know, keeping them at arm’s length until he knows them to his satisfaction. It's originally what drew Loki to him, he realized once they were together; Loki really wanted to figure him out, just as Mobius wanted to figure Loki out in return.

Loki lifts a hand to Mobius' face and leans up to kiss him quick, which Mobius, the absolute sap, doubles down on. It's not ideal, the two of them at different angles, and yet it's absolutely as perfect as all the others. Loki doesn't think he'll ever get tired of it, and somewhere deep in his head that scares him. Surely he must get tired of it, right? Mobius said himself that his last long-term relationship ended because they grew apart. They have long lives ahead of them—surely they will grow and change around one another. 

"Hey," Mobius whispers, "I lost you for a second. Where'd you go?"

Loki, whose head is now back in Mobius' lap, looks between both of his husband's eyes for a quiet moment, before smiling. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"If you say 'about Sylvie' we're gonna have to have a very serious conversation," Mobius warns, and Loki laughs.

"No. Fuck no, please. "

Mobius looks at Loki for a few seconds before he focuses his gaze to where he's gently raking his fingers through his hair. Loki feels like sometimes Mobius can read minds. Or see through him somehow, like he knows exactly what's bothering him and what's the best course of action to deal with it. Hell, even Loki doesn't know what's wrong with him sometimes, but Mobius knows when to pry him away from a book or force him to put words to his emotions. 

Loki takes Mobius’ free hand in both of his, tracing along the lines of his palm with a thumb. Slowly, he makes his way up to the simple gold ring that compliments his own, twisting it once, making Mobius chuckle above him. Mobius doesn’t take care of his skin nearly as much as Loki cares for his own, the skin there rough and a bit calloused in places, in stark contrast to Loki’s meticulously manicured hands roaming across his. (Loki remembers the time he wrestled one of Mobius’ hands into getting a matching green manicure. They lasted all of one day.) There are a lot of differences between the two of them—so much so that it’s boggling to the entire student body that they’re friends , let alone partners. They have already grown separately for so much of their lives. Will they continue to go their separate ways? Has the situation at school already exacerbated that?

“Can we go outside?” Loki asks finally.

To confirm, Mobius asks back, “You want me to come?”

Loki nods and rests Mobius’ hand down on his stomach. “Please.”

The house, although Mobius has lived here for at least five years before Loki joined the picture, is very much both of theirs. Mobius happily handed over the reins for decorating, and now the home is cozy, with dark wood and white walls and a wide array of colorful furniture and accents all around. Out back, through the sliding door in the living room that they’re sitting in, is a small pool that hasn’t been opened yet. In the summer, or as summer approaches, they bring out all the stops: tables, chairs, a grill that Loki won’t go within five feet of after a particularly terrifying hair-based fire incident. Since there are no seats out yet, however, Loki sits cross-legged on the side of the pool and looks up at Mobius expectantly. Mobius presses his lips into a tight line, before giving in and sitting next to Loki with his legs straight out.

“You could’ve tried, ” Loki chuckles, shifting back to be in line with Mobius.

“We both know I’m not flexible.”

Under his breath, Loki mutters, “I’ll say.” Mobius slaps his shoulder lightly.

He offers his hand out, palm facing up, and Loki takes it and laces their fingers together. “Are you going to get tired of me?”

Mobius snorts, which was not one of the reactions that Loki was expecting. Loki whips his head around and Mobius is shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“What’s funny?”

“You…” Mobius looks down at their hands and claps his left hand on top of Loki’s, shaking them. “Every single day you find something new to surprise me with.”

Loki sighs. “But surely I can’t keep that pace forever.”

“I genuinely think you can.”

Loki tips his head to the side and shoots Mobius a look. “Come on.”

“I’m serious! They’re not all huge things. Like...today, with Sylvie. Or even something as simple as you making me coffee in the morning.”

“I do that every day.”

Mobius grins. “And it never ceases to amaze me.”

Loki groans, disgusted, and tears his hand out from both of Mobius’. “I never should’ve asked. That was horrible.”

“You love it.”

“And I’m starting to seriously question why.”

“Should I be worried?” Mobius asks, “I mean, I’m not even remotely surprising. Are you gonna get tired of me? ”

Loki flaps a hand dismissively. “That’s different.”

“Explain that to me.”

There’s that ever-critical mind again. Mobius approaches him sometimes like he’s a spectacle to be studied. He’s another one of those history books that Mobius wants to crack into and understand from front to back. Nobody has ever made Loki feel seen like that, and maybe nobody else ever will. Loki’s thing was that he knew everyone—but Mobius, for once, finally seemed to know him . And wanted to continue knowing him.

“You’re comfortable as you are. A little boring, sure, but you’re just so... at home in your own image.” Loki wets his lips and looks down at his hands. “I have to be interesting. I’ve always had to be, in order to keep up with my family. It gets people to see me.”

The way they’re sitting isn’t very conducive to this conversation, but Mobius still adjusts to face Loki as much as he can, while Loki still watches his hands. “You don’t have to be interesting all the time. You can just be . That’s the whole point of all those hoity-toity vows that they made us say, isn’t it? For better, for worse. ‘Till death do us part. I’m sure I’ll find something to be fascinated by until the day we die.”

Slowly, Loki looks over at Mobius with a small smile. Mobius is watching him just as earnestly as he always does, even though he’s sitting uncomfortably on the cold concrete of their backyard, twisted to face him. “Do you just have one of those locked and loaded at all times?” Loki questions.

Mobius rolls his eyes. “Maybe I’m just really good with my words,” he says quietly, squinting his eyes in a half-hearted challenge.

“I’ll never get tired of that.”

“See? You found something.” 

Mobius taps his finger to the underside of Loki’s chin with a smile, before very gracefully lifting himself up off the ground with a quiet grunt. Loki watches him with a bemused grin, and it’s still on his face when Mobius extends a hand to help him up. He takes it, and Mobius doesn’t let go, just pulls him close. Over the fence and through the trees, the sun continues to set, the sky lit up with pastel pinks and oranges. The breeze is slightly chilly, but Mobius is there. He always is. Loki probably can’t shake him if he tried.

“I love you,” Loki murmurs.

Mobius presses a kiss into Loki’s hairline. “Obviously.”

Chapter Text

Finals creep up on everyone, and Loki is wildly unprepared for them. The exams and the papers are fine, but the speed at which he has to grade all of these things wears on him something fierce. Mobius has a handle on things, because of course he does—but all of this is new to Loki, and he feels massively out of his element here.

He sits at his desk, elbows planted, fingers threaded through his hair and gripping just a little too hard as he reads the same sentence of this kid's essay for the seventh time. It's not well-written in the slightest, but he knows this student always struggles with opening paragraphs, so once he's past skimming this he can get into the bulk of the thing. He's been reading for too long, his classes long since over for the day, most of his colleagues gone for the night. It's too much work for a Wednesday night, but Loki still has so much to do. He doesn't get how everyone handles this so well.

There's a light knock before Mobius lets himself into the office, and when Loki lifts his head to look at him, Mobius whistles lowly. "You look terrible."

Loki scoffs and drops his hands down on the desk, turning his attention back to the paper. "Not in the mood."

"Oh, that's not what I like to hear," Mobius teases. He sets his bag down in front of the middle-most chair before sitting down and patting his lap. "Come on, let's talk."

All he gets in return is a glare. 

Mobius rolls his eyes. "Seriously?"

Loki blinks.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me anything. I already love talking about myself."

"No you don't."

Mobius holds his hands up in defeat, a small, guilty smile on his face. "Caught me. Come here?"

Loki chews his bottom lip as he debates it, glancing down at the paper in front of him one more time. He clearly isn't going to make any progress tonight. The school gave him until Monday to finish everything up, so realistically he can be done for the night and continue tomorrow. He has two whole exam periods to continue the work tomorrow, one Friday, and then an entire weekend to tie up loose ends. He smooths a hand over his hair before standing up, knocking his chair backwards a bit, and heading over to Mobius.

Mobius cheers quietly, which makes Loki smile despite himself. He pats his lap again, and Loki sits down sideways. Mobius hooks one arm around his waist, the other over his thighs, and looks up at him. "Finals, huh?"

Loki sighs and rubs his forehead. "I have so much to do. Would it kill them to give us more time before grades have to be in?"

"Probably," Mobius chuckles. "You just have to learn how to manage your time, keep from getting swamped. Move quickly, but still grade as you would if you had more time."

"Easier said than done."

"I know." Mobius' hand moves to rub small, comforting circles between his shoulderblades. His hand is warm through the fabric of Loki's button down, same as it ever is. It's grounding, and it makes some of the tension in his shoulders drop. "You'll get the hang of it."

Through the door's window, Valkyrie squints to try and take in what she sees. It's not very wide, but as she crosses to her classroom to grab a book she had forgotten, she's eighty-five percent sure she spots Loki fully in Dr. Mobius' lap in his office. She's really trying not to stare, because quite honestly she'd forgotten about this whole ordeal, but this happening right in the middle of the school makes her mind race about what else they possibly could've done here. 

She unlocks her office to grab her things, and when she leaves, she casts a glance back over, but there's not much she can see. The window is too small and she's too far away, so Valkyrie sighs, straightens herself up, and walks away to leave. Someone has to do something about that. Valkyrie supposes it's going to be up to her tomorrow.

Despite how much he wants to sleep in, Loki wakes up before their alarm. He rolls over to check the clock and huffs, annoyed, before deciding to make it Mobius' problem that he's up. Mobius has always been much better at sleeping than Loki—sure, Loki can sleep anywhere, but Mobius is consistent. Once he's out, most of the time, he's out for the night. That's never stopped Loki before.

During the night Mobius has migrated towards his side of the bed, back facing Loki, covers halfway kicked off and only around his waist now. Loki watches the slow rise and fall off his side for a second before he slides forward to tuck himself in close to his husband's back, hooking an arm around his waist. Mobius stirs, but doesn't wake. Loki tucks a kiss into Mobius' shoulder blade and sneaks his hand under his already rucked up shirt to rest on his stomach. The skin there is soft and almost burning hot from being stuck under the covers, and Loki wants to scratch over the soft trail of hair under his bellybutton, but it seems like he's already been caught. Mobius shifts again, slow and bleary from sleep.

"What're you gettin' up to, hm?" Mobius mutters lowly, voice thick with sleep. Loki very nearly feels bad for waking him up.

"Nothing, dear," Loki replies, flattening his hand against Mobius' skin, "just wanted to wake you."

Mobius hums a chuckle and takes his time fully waking up. He stretches his arms over his head, effectively knocking Loki loose, but he's content to watch his little routine anyway. Loki sits up and watches as he rolls onto his back, scrubs his hands over his face, and then blinks and smiles at Loki. It's not graceful in the least (nobody really is graceful in the mornings, not even Loki himself). It honestly shouldn't even be attractive, at least on paper. But something about how vulnerable it is makes Loki's heart race just a little in his chest, and Mobius reaches a hand out to him to say, "C'mere."

It's a little funny how often Loki's been across Mobius' lap lately, but neither of them seem to be complaining about it too much. Mobius probably has some half-brained and completely correct theory about why Loki likes it so much, something about control or whatever, but Loki will deny that if need be. Regardless, he slings a leg over Mobius' thighs and settles on top of him, Mobius smiling up at him the whole time he adjusts.

Loki smooths his hands over Mobius' pecs, reveling in the soft fabric of his sleep shirt covering surprisingly firm muscle. He's always hidden in those damn suits, all the work he does at the gym with Loki tucked away in a bland suit jacket that he looks a little bit too good in. Loki prefers him like this, though, out of that shell and looking comfortable, arms now tucked behind his head as he watches Loki with a tired bemusement. 

"You're adding weight in the gym?" he asks, and he feels Mobius' chest rumble with a low chuckle under his hands.

"Gotta keep in shape. It's good for the heart."

Loki groans. "You sound like an old man when you say that."

Mobius smiles and moves his hands from under his head to rest on Loki's thighs, still sleep-warm. "I'm not exactly a young man."

"No, I suppose not."

Loki is very fond of the effect that the years have had on Mobius. The gentle crow's feet by his eyes, the lines on either side of his mouth, all of which make themselves known whenever he smiles at Loki hopelessly. He will smooth his thumb over the frown lines on his forehead when Mobius has a bad day, making the man laugh and yank his head backwards from the touch. He can't imagine Mobius without the distinguished grey in his hair—he's seen photos of a young Mobius, with sandy-blonde hair and adorned with puka shells and sunburn, and he thinks that maybe it's best they crossed paths when they did. 

The years have also worn on Loki, but those he's not quite as fond of. He has lines on his forehead and his bones ache sometimes and if it gets unseasonably hot, he gets a migraine. But Mobius assures him he's beautiful, smooths warm hands over his aches, his wrinkles, and takes care of him when he needs it. Loki reciprocates, of course he does, but never did he think that someone would continue to love him as he grew older. For a long time, he was alone, and feared that he would always be alone. 

Loki rakes his fingers through the front of Mobius’ hair. “You should grow your hair out.”

“What, like yours?”

“Just a little bit,” Loki continues, fingers now skating lightly down the side of Mobius’ face, tracing over the scratchy stubble there. “you’d look very handsome.”

Mobius turns his head to press a kiss to Loki’s palm. “Maybe you’ll cut yours to match.”

“Absolutely not,” Loki laughs, smoothing his thumb over Mobius’ cheek. “I haven’t had short hair since I was a child.”

“It’s for the best. Scary to think about you with short hair,” Mobius teases, grimacing and shaking his head, “horrifying.”

“Don’t be dramatic now—”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to keep going with this.”

Loki pinches Mobius’ cheek and the man slaps his hand away, which turns into a half-hearted tousle. Loki gets Mobius’ hands pinned over his head, the two of them laughing softly. He could get out with a simple tug of his hands, but of course, Mobius doesn't. Instead he cranes up to kiss Loki, and Loki can’t help but sigh into it. It’s just so easy to lean into, and maybe it’s because of the morning, but Loki feels that surge of love bubble up in his chest, making way into something giddy and stupid. He pulls back and grins. “Happy anniversary.”

Mobius hums. “One of them, anyway.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re insufferable,” Mobius snaps back, finally opening his eyes. “I’m pretty sure married folks don’t celebrate their other anniversary once they have a wedding.”

Loki scoffs. “Why not? It’s just an excuse to celebrate an otherwise meaningless day of the year.”

“I don’t need an excuse to celebrate you.”

Mobius laughs as Loki sits up, lets his hands go, and covers his face in shame. “Horrific.”

"You walked right into that one, darlin'."

Loki drops his hands and smiles disdainfully. "You're never going to quit doing that, are you."

Mobius hums thoughtfully as Loki leans back down, whole body shuffling backwards so he can bracket the other man's head with his elbows. "Mm, no. Especially since you give me such fun reactions every time."

Mobius' hands slide up to hold Loki's hips while he turns his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. He sighs, and looks back at Loki, barely inches away from his face.

"We still have work today," he mutters.

Loki pecks a kiss to his lips.

"Which means we have to start moving—"

Another kiss.

"—if we want to be on time—"

Another kiss.

"—for Sylvie's thesis defense—"

One more for good measure.

"—jeez, you're real annoying this morning."

Loki laughs and kisses Mobius again, which this time he finally leans into. If someone had told Loki he'd be this much of a soft mess for anyone, he would've probably smacked them upside the head for suggesting it. But maybe it's the fact that he knows he's getting older, or the way that Mobius snuck his way in between his walls and knocked everything loose. Whatever it is, as they trade lazy kisses in their well-lived-in bedroom on a Thursday morning, Loki lets himself bask in the stupid domesticity of it all.

Chapter Text

Valkyrie pushes herself away from her desk and sighs. This is always the time of year she regrets giving the page requirements that she does, but today, something else is racking her mind and not letting her finish as quickly as she'd like. She doesn't have to work up the nerve to confront Loki, lord knows she has plenty of nerve for the entire theater department when it comes down to it. Honestly, she'd been needing a reason to give him a piece of her mind—they got along, of course, and Valkyrie was honestly fond of him and his theories, but fuck was he stupid sometimes. It wore on her nerves.

She actually did debate confronting Mobius, but that would only go so well. She knew even less about that man's personal life than Loki's, and they had worked together for longer. There's just something about that man that eludes her, but she knows as much as anyone else that she cannot, in good conscience, sit by and let Loki potentially ruin whatever home like he has going on. That's not fair to him, nor his spouse.

Valkyrie stands up and looks around her office, unsure of what her move is. She has to get this over and done with, so she can stop this quiet rage that's simmering within her slowly. It's making grading damn near impossible. Which then makes her angrier. Fuck, she needs a drink. She eyes the drawer of her desk, decides against it, and heads out the door and down the hall to Loki's office.

For a change, she knocks on the doorframe and sticks her head in, the music drifting out unfamiliar and slightly too loud. Loki lifts his head and smiles. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Valkyrie clears her throat. "We need to talk."

"Oh, don't I love that statement."

Loki stretches to reach for the volume on the speaker, turning it down until it's just a low murmur in the background. Clearly, he doesn't expect this to take very long. 

She walks in and sticks her hands into her pants pockets. There is probably a more graceful way to start her gambit, but she opts for, "Whatever you're doing, quit it."

Loki squints and tilts his head. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't want your little...affair to cause any more problems. And I certainly don't understand what you're gaining from it. If anything. I get that you want to come into the TVA and cement yourself 'not like other professors', but this is the last way to do it. It's selfish. It's annoying. It's hurting people. Stop it."

It's quiet, safe for the soft music still playing. Loki is running his tongue over his teeth, debating something, watching Valkyrie with a close eye. Valkyrie continues to hold eye contact—she put herself into this mess, and she is going to keep herself there. 

"Are you quite finished?" Loki asks finally. He waves his hands out and looks around his otherwise empty office as if searching for approval. "That was touching, really, but you're going to have to try better than that to scare me."

Valkyrie plants her hands on her hips. "You will answer me."

"Or what? You'll run off to the dean or whoever and get me fired?"

Valkyrie shifts on her feet, nervous despite her hardened exterior. "Something like that."

Loki smiles. "It's not that simple."

'Why the hell not?"

He reaches over his desk to the photo that always rests there. For a moment he looks at it, tilting it in the light, before flipping it around and extending it to Valkyrie. She stares at Loki, wary, as she takes it. And then she looks, lifts her head at Loki, and then looks just one more time at Loki's graduation photo.

"I don't understand."

Loki juts his chin towards the photo in her hands. "We got married two weeks later."

Valkyrie's face drops, and Loki nearly bursts out laughing. 

Loki walks around his desk slowly, and continues, "You know, I thought it would be fun to play this game with everyone, but I don't appreciate that everyone's coming to me to yell about it. What does that say about my image, that everyone thinks I seduced Mobius into cheating, hm?"

"I'm sorry—"

"I mean, really," Loki says, pointing at himself with both hands, "part of me is honored. But part of me is deeply offended."

He continues his circle around his desk until he makes it to the front, leaning against it. "Causing mischief in this department is one thing, but fabricated adultery is far out of the realm of 'mischief', don't you think?"

Any sympathy Valkyrie might have had for her little outburst is sufficiently gone now. She really wishes she had grabbed that drink above anything else. "So why lie?"

"We didn't lie."

"You didn't tell the truth."

Loki shrugs. "Nobody thought to ask the right questions. You certainly didn't. If memory serves, you froze up as soon as you tried to confront me the first time."

Valkyrie grits her teeth. "I didn't freeze."

"And I'm a cheating manipulator," Loki shoots back, tilting his head, face spreading into a grin. "Hurts to hear a bold-faced lie right to your face, doesn't it?"

She scoffs. "What do you want me to say here? I'm happy for you. I wish you hadn't made a whole scene about it."

"We can't always get what we want, Miss Valkyrie," Loki drawls, standing up straight and smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my brother is in town and I have to prevent him from interrupting Sylvie's thesis defense at one."

He points an open hand at the door. Valkyrie rolls her eyes. "Asshole."

She turns to leave. Loki calls, "Do you want to get lunch?"

She throws a hand up over her shoulder. "You're paying."

"Mobius!"

The shout startles Ravonna and makes her spin around, ready to yell at whoever just shouted down the hallway that surely has classes with finals going on. The two of them have been chatting idly since both of their previous test periods let out, mostly about how they wish they could just give everyone nineties and send them on their merry way for the summer. She glances back at Mobius for confirmation, but he doesn't look phased one bit. In fact, he's smiling. Huh.

The stranger holds his hand out for a handshake and pulls Mobius into a hug, clapping a firm hand on his back and laughing. As he pulls back, he continues, "I was actually on my way to come looking for you. Did my brother let you know that I was in town?"

"He did."

The man laughs, loud and proud. "I’ve got to see him on the other side of graduation for a change. I presume he didn't say anything about me hosting a dinner while I'm here."

The two of them chatter for a few moments, all the while Ravonna is wondering who the hell this man is and why he's in the school. He looks wildly out of place—amidst all the old, dark wood and business casual clothing, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Ravonna's mildly impressed with the sheer amount of muscle this man has, arms fully exposed by his muscle tee, on which is a faded image of that 'hang in there' cat. His long, sun-bleached hair is haphazardly pulled half-up,  and to Ravonna's disgust, he is wearing sandals. Gross. He's definitely not Mobius' husband, although Ravonna wouldn't be too surprised at him finding some surfer type because of his summers by the shore. But this guy was out of town for a while, so that cancels that one out pretty quick. Before she can work on another theory, Mobius turns to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't introduce you. Ravonna, this is Thor. Thor, Ravonna."

Of course that's his name. Thor sticks his hand out and gives Ravonna a very firm handshake. "My apologies. You're welcome to come to dinner if you'd like as well."

"Oh, no, I probably shouldn't—"

"You should! Thor makes a mean barbecue and, besides, it’s basically a grad party. You deserve one too," Mobius interjects, smiling at her. Ravonna closes her mouth and smiles politely. You know what? Screw it. She doesn't get out much as it is.

"Sure."

Thor claps. "Great! I should really be going to find Loki, though. And Mobius?"

Mobius raises his eyebrows.

Thor grins. "Bring your husband."

Mobius laughs. Ravonna feels like she missed a joke somewhere. Why on Earth does Thor need to go find Loki of all people? "We'll be there."

Chapter Text

Two years ago.

Loki is pacing across the floor in their home, right in front of the door, as he waits for Mobius to emerge from the bedroom. It’s not uncommon for him to be ready first, but today he’s worked himself up into quite a frenzy—he is not going to be late for his own graduation. He’s put in way too much effort to fly under the radar with a perfect GPA to make some stupid mistake on the last day. Plus he has no time to rest, he thinks as he twists the ring on his finger nervously, because after this whole debacle is over, they have a godforsaken wedding to plan. And they both know Loki would be too worked up to let Mobius anywhere nearby when he starts to hash those out.

“Stop pacing, you’re making me dizzy,” Mobius comments as he walks out finally , still adjusting his tie. His hair is still a little wet and he’s missed a bit of shaving cream by his ear in his hurry to leave, and somehow that makes some of the tension Loki’s been holding dissolve. It endears Loki to him, and he mentally adds it to the list of things that really aren’t charming if it’s anyone else.

Loki holds out his hands and flaps his fingers. “Come here, you absolute buffoon.”

Mobius grins and does as he’s told. Loki wipes the shaving cream off, rubs it into his fingers, and then focuses on the tie, straightening it out and tightening it up where it’s supposed to lie. When Loki looks up at him, Mobius lifts his chin expectantly, and Loki rolls his eyes and presses a quick kiss to his lips. Mobius sighs contentedly. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Graduation is long and boring. A couple of the people around Loki sneak in flasks to drink from to ease the pain of the humidity and the long, dull speeches. He occasionally pulls his phone out to text Mobius, who is sitting among the rest of the professors, nowhere near the front. Little updates, like how a person a row in front of him just downed two miniature bottles of Fireball, or the girl next to him who snored herself awake again. He wishes he could see Mobius try and hide his amusement at the messages, but from where he sits, he can't tell where he is.

As his name is called and he walks across the stage, he tries his best to spot Mobius in the crowd. Loki doesn't spot him right away, and he definitely holds things up a little bit as he tries to find him. From his seat, Mobius gives him two thumbs up, and Loki gets ushered off the stage just as quickly as he got on.

Once everyone throws their caps and makes their way onto the college green to talk, Loki is quick to find Mobius in the crowd. He’s looking just as hard for Loki, and in the middle of all the chaos, nobody notices that the hug they share is miles away from professional. Mobius voices all of his complaints he didn’t get to text about the other professors as they chat, before the line of students who want to say their goodbyes to their professor starts growing larger. First, though, Loki holds his phone towards one of his peers he’s never known the name of and asks them to take a photo.

Loki is grinning, looking at the camera and posing, his arm around Mobius' shoulders and holding him close. Mobius, after the first photo of him looking at the camera, turns to laugh at Loki as he has to throw a hand up to try and keep the graduation cap from falling sideways off his head. What’s-their-name just mashed the button to take a whole bunch of photos, and Loki pauses on that one as they stand hunched over the phone and look through them. Mobius squeezes his waist lightly before remembering to drop his hold on him.

"I really like that one."

Loki hums. In it, Mobius is watching him like he's the only person there. Even though the background is packed with people trying to get photos with their families and friends, and probably a few people who want to talk to Mobius before they leave forever. Doesn't matter to Mobius. Not one bit. "Me too."

Mobius nudges him with his elbow. "I've got to chat with a few students before we head out. Then we can go home and celebrate properly, deal?"

"Of course," Loki agrees, smiling at Mobius. He really wants to kiss him. Unfortunately, they're not quite out of the woods yet.

It’s clear that Mobius feels the same when he says, "Love you. Be back in a jiff."

"Love you too."

At home, they’re halfway to drunk before they remember that Thor exists. Loki swears and scrambles to find his phone amidst all the couch cushions, Mobius laughing and being absolutely unhelpful as he hunts for it. They try to make themselves appear a bit more sober before they call.

“Brother!” Thor calls as soon as his face appears on the screen, a bit too close for a few seconds as he struggles to adjust to modern technology. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person to see you walk. I caught the livestream though!”

“I was worried you wouldn’t be able to figure out how,” Loki teases, but there’s a hint of seriousness to it. Mobius squeezes his thigh lightly.

Thor’s face turns sincere when he says, “I am so proud of you, Loki.”

Loki blinks and ducks his head for a moment. “Thank you.” He takes a quick breath to steel himself, before adding, “I don’t get to bask, though. I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

“He won’t let me help,” Mobius finally says, and Thor’s laugh is so loud that Loki winces and moves the phone back to distance himself from it.

“Let me see the lucky lad!” Thor says, and Loki tilts the phone so that Mobius is in-frame.

Mobius waves with a grin. “Long time no see, Thor.”

“I’ll say! I haven’t seen you since you announced the engagement. I still can’t believe you roped this one into monogamy.”

Mobius looks at Loki with that stupid, mushy look on his face. “Neither can I.”

Before Loki can protest the sheer softness of it all, Thor clears his throat. “You know, I’m technically ordained.”

Loki blurts, “Are you serious?” at the same time Mobius laughs and says, “No fucking way.”

“Yes! I did an online course to help out this lovely lesbian couple that I had met at work. If you want me to, I could be up there in...what, two weeks, earliest?”

The two of them share a look. 

Mobius looks thoughtful. “I mean, how many people would we really invite anyway? Any colleagues I would think about inviting don’t even know I’m engaged. And family is…”

“Yeah,” Loki sighs. They don’t have to touch that subject now. 

When he was young and hopeful, he’d fantasize about his wedding. Something grandiose and unnecessary, with lots of gold and white and probably some fucking birds or whatever. He never really thought about the whole “who” part of those daydreams, but transposing Mobius into that fantasy never made sense. Nothing about their relationship made sense, really. It was like trying to shove two completely different puzzles together.

Also, he really didn’t want to plan a wedding.

“Fuck it,” Loki says, and Thor grins onscreen. 

“Are you sure? We don’t have to make this decision now,” Mobius asks, his hand squeezing Loki’s thigh again.

“Do you want to?”

Mobius wets his lips. “You’re gonna hate what I’m about to say.”

“Try me.”

“I just want to be married to you.”

Loki groans, and Thor’s laugh booms at the interaction. They promise to buy Thor the plane tickets and, instead, plan for their own version of a wedding.

The thought of inviting guests comes and goes in a single night, and they decide to spend the money on a nice, long honeymoon. Thor meets them at their home two weeks later, on a Saturday. He’s wearing his best effort at nice clothing, which is a button down and pants that aren’t jeans for once. Neither Loki nor Mobius are wearing white—Loki opted for a black dress shirt and black slacks, while Mobius (at Loki’s behest) wears a grey dress shirt and a skinny black tie that belongs to a dressier version of the outfit that Loki is wearing.

Their wedding is in their backyard, their backs to the pool. (Mobius had suggested indoors, but Loki insisted that they couldn't get married in their own living room.) Thor's ceremony is surprisingly well-thought out, if not a bit rushed at the end to make sure they could get to the city hall before it closed for the day.

"Let's just combine these into one. No need for me to say it twice," Thor grumbles towards the end of the makeshift service, shuffling some papers in his hand. "Do you both take each other to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Both of them say "I do," at the same time, and all three start laughing together.

"That's why they do it separately," Mobius jokes, squeezing Loki's hands. 

"We're not exactly doing this by the books, though," Loki shoots back.

"It wouldn't be your wedding if you two didn't bicker in the middle of the whole thing," Thor adds.

For good measure, Mobius smiles at Loki and says, "I do," once more.

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you...men? Husband and husband," Thor chuckles, and then flaps a hand. "Just kiss each other."

Loki grins and cups both of Mobius' cheeks to kiss him. Mobius immediately grabs for his hips and holds him close, and he chuckles against his lips. Loki's married. He found someone to love him unconditionally, flaws and all. Before he can stop it, a few tears slip out of the corners of his eyes.

Thor makes a noise that makes the two of them pull apart from each other, and when they snap their heads over to look at him, he smiles sheepishly and waves the camera. "I didn't have it on."

Loki groans and Mobius rests his forehead on Loki's shoulder, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Thor snaps a picture of that. 

"Think we can kiss again?" Mobius asks as he lifts his head.

Loki hums thoughtfully. "I think I'd be amenable to that."

Mobius, his husband , brings a hand up to wipe away the few errant tears with a gentle thumb, smiling all the while. He leans up on his toes and kisses him again. This time, Thor gets the photo.

After they rush to city hall to fill out the appropriate paperwork, they go home and get drunk. It only seems appropriate—Thor is gracious to offer his bartending services up until he leaves them for the night with a smug wink.

"We didn't do vows," Mobius says. He's laying halfway in Loki's lap on the couch, arms around his waist, face mostly pressed into his stomach. He's a very clingy drunk after a certain point, and Loki absolutely adores it.

Loki scratches his nails against Mobius' scalp. "I'm assuming you prepared a speech."

"'Course I did," Mobius chuckles. He takes his time sitting up and detangling himself from Loki (to Loki's dismay), and he scrubs a hand over his mouth. "I hope I'm not too drunk to remember it."

Loki scoffs and grabs one of Mobius' hands to lace their fingers together. "I highly doubt that. You probably practiced in the mirror."

Mobius smiles and squeezes his hand. "You know me so well."

"I try my best."

Mobius clears his throat. "Okay. For a long time, I felt like I was stuck. Once I got my career I just kind of went through the motions of day-to-day life, not really minding the monotony. God it was boring. But I didn't really know better. And then, this supremely annoying student showed up and messed everything up."

Loki breathes a laugh and mutters, "Sorry."

"No, don't be," Mobius says, patting the back of Loki's entwined hand with his free one, "it was for the best. Even though I was the teacher, you taught me so much about life, and how I wasn't exactly living it to the fullest."

"Terribly corny."

Mobius rolls his tear-filled eyes. "I'm almost done. I genuinely can't imagine myself going back to that boring life I lived. Certainly not without you. You changed me, for better or worse. Jury's still out on which one."

Loki smiles, tilting his head to the side. "Is that it?"

Mobius gives a choked-up laugh. "That's the whole thing. Aside from 'thank you' and 'I love you' or whatever."

"I love you too. Is now when I confess that I never wrote vows?"

Mobius' laugh rings out loud and bright in their quiet little home. Loki watches him with an amused grin—he's had tons and tons of half-witted speeches bouncing around in his brain since they got engaged. None of them felt perfect; his future lied in English, sure, but none of the words he could put together felt right for the occasion. How could he phrase how much Mobius had altered the trajectory of his life? He could never dream of saying it better than Mobius himself already did. And Loki knew he didn't really have to find those words. Mobius knew. He always knew.

When Mobius wipes his eyes as he finishes laughing, Loki says simply, "I love you, too."

Two weeks ago.

"Brother!" Thor shouts as he answers the phone, as is customary. "I'm coming up for graduation!"

"Yes, you've told me. But we're in a kind of amusing predicament right now."

"Did you get fired?"

Loki and Mobius share an amused look across the couch. " No , oh ye of little faith."

"The students seem to think we're having an affair with one another," Mobius chimes in, "like, we're cheating on our respective spouses instead of you know. Being married to each other."

There's a beat, and then Thor is belly-laughing on the other end of the line. It takes a full minute for him to calm down before he says, "I love it. Why are you telling me?"

"We need you to play along. The more grand the reveal ends up being the better. Shove it in the dean's face after all those years." Loki's voice dips into something sinister towards the end, and Mobius glares at him half-heartedly.

Although Loki can't see Thor, he's almost certain he crosses his heart before he declares, "You have my word."

Chapter Text

In the middle of Sylvie's thesis defense, which is mostly Sylvie ignoring professor questions and barreling on with what she thought to be most important, Ravonna's phone lights up with a text from Mobius. She glances over to find him texting under the table, and he catches her eye to wink and tilt his head ever-so-slightly at her lap and the phone. She rolls her eyes, but does check it.

The text is the day, time, and address of the rental home Thor is staying in to host the makeshift graduation party. Mobius must be seriously bored if he’s texting in the middle of this meeting. She disregards the phone and turns her attention back to Sylvie for the remainder of her time, trying hard not to think about it too much.

Mobius tells Sylvie to wait outside while they deliberate, which goes over about as well as telling a cat not to knock over your favorite mug. She glares at him as she leaves, and all three of them watch as the door closes before sighing in relief. Then, Loki leans over the table to look around Mobius and at Ravonna. “So we’re just giving her honor’s, right?”

“Her paper was thorough, and she knows what she’s talking about,” Ravonna says. “You did read the paper in full, right? Or is that not worth your time either.”

Loki narrows his eyes at her. “I did. You weren’t too busy crawling up the dean’s ass to find time—”

“Okay, okay,” Mobius interjects, waving both of his hands out in front of them. “What’s with the hostility? Tensions are high this week, I get it, but this is ridiculous.”

Loki slumps back into his chair, arms folded over his chest, and huffs like a petulant child. “She started it.”

“We should ice her out, though,” Mobius says, completely ignoring Loki’s little outburst, “get her shaking in her boots a little about whether or not she got honors.”

That’s something that Ravonna can agree with. She and Mobius talk about the weekend with each other for a few more minutes before she gets out of her chair to go and let Sylvie back in. They’re quick to let Sylvie know that she will be graduating with honors, and she doesn’t celebrate at all outside of a quick nod and a seemingly genuine smile for once. They all shake hands with her, and they watch her leave once more. Ravonna still doesn’t really get why all three of them were chosen. They definitely weren’t the most qualified to give her help on her research. But she supposed that in the end, they gave Sylvie the experience she wanted for her senior year. They got her over the finish line. Even Loki seemed genuinely happy when he signed the certificate of proof of her receiving honors. Ravonna can’t be too mad at that.

Mobius leads Ravonna out of the room, not too concerned about Loki taking his time to leave for a change. Ravonna glances back at him and Loki looks less pleased than he normally does at the two of them, but she simply doesn’t care. Mobius is talking a big game about Thor’s bartending abilities, and drowning herself in homemade margaritas sounds better than caring about whatever’s going on with that delinquent back there. She says as much, and Mobius laughs and squeezes her waist fondly.

“This is the worst anniversary ever,” Loki declares as he walks into Mobius’ office, kicking the door shut behind him. He throws himself onto the couch, “First I have to listen to Sylvie blabber on for three hours straight, and then I learn that you invited Ravonna to my party—”

“First of all, it was less than an hour,” Mobius begins, setting down the paperwork in front of him and leaning his elbows on his desk, “Second, this is why I said that people generally have the one anniversary. Third, it is not your party.”

Loki glares at Mobius. “How is it not my party?”

“Thor is throwing it, Thor invited her. Simple.”

Loki groans dramatically. “She hates me.”

Mobius smiles. “You hate her.”

“Because she hates me!”

Sighing, Mobius stands and rounds his desk to go and sit on the opposite end of the couch. “I know she can be a goody-two-shoes. She even gets on me sometimes for not listening to all the rules, and it drives me crazy. But Ravonna is my friend.”

Loki just continues glaring. Mobius tries another approach, “It’ll be a good opportunity to freak her out before telling her we’re married. She doesn’t know you’re going.”

Finally, that angry glare makes way into that mischievous smile. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Loki spends most of the next morning at the house Thor is renting, setting the backyard up for a party. A lot of the time he’s grumbling how much easier this would have been if Thor had just asked to have the get-together at his and Mobius’ house, but Thor seems more than happy to put in the extra effort just to have the party his way. Besides, he picked the place “for the spacious backyard”. 

Said backyard is nice, Loki admits begrudgingly. It doesn’t have a pool like his own home, but there is a play set that looks unnecessarily expensive. The grass is well-maintained, the grill is large and (in Loki’s opinion) menacing, and there is plenty of space to stand together and talk. The two of them—Mobius had wanted to get some work done before he joined—also set up a few tables for the food. Thor came to their house to grab the extra chairs in the garage, too, so there is seating and standing room galore. Loki steps back from it all, plants his hands on his hips, and sighs, satisfied. Thor emerges from behind him with a set of “Congrats, Grad!” balloons, and Loki rolls his eyes.

“Since I didn’t get to last year,” Thor explains unnecessarily, and Loki presses his lips together in a smile.

“Thanks.”

Thor sets the balloons off to the side and comes back, patting Loki on the shoulder and holding. “Don’t get mad at me.”

Loki sighs. “That statement usually precedes something that will definitely make me mad at you.”

“I invited some of my friends from the city to come out,” Thor admits, “it wouldn’t be a party if there was no one but us here, you know?”

Loki sighs and drops his head forward. “Please don’t tell me Tony’s coming.”

“No, yes, okay, he is. But he has a kid now, he’s calmed down significantly. Pepper assured me he would behave.”

“Is Jane?”

Thor gets quiet for a moment, which makes Loki look over at him. He’s smiling a little bit. “I told her to bring Darcy. I know it’s been a while.”

It’s not like he can do anything about it now. The gate on the side of the yard squeaks open before Loki can protest even more, and people that Loki half-recognizes as said friends from the city start walking in, food in hand. One of them— shit, Loki should have asked for names of the important ones before Thor ran off—looks over and smiles politely at him, which makes him remember he threw his hair up into a ponytail while they were setting up. He swears, rips the hair tie out, shakes his head to make his hair cooperate, and gives a tight-lipped smile back. Whoever it is gives an amused laugh and turns back to Thor.

Loki whips his phone out of his pocket.

Loki: people are coming in, get ur old ass over here!!!

Mobius: I’m driving with Do Not Disturb While Driving turned on. I’ll see your message when I get where I’m going.

Loki feels like screaming at his phone. The other automated text comes in as he shoves his phone into his pocket and turns to head inside and at least grab the alcohol so he can get this party started for himself. When he does turn, though, he wheels around and practically smacks into someone, and he can’t help the undignified shout he makes when he does. Loki steps back and stares at the bewildered Ravonna who has appeared out of nowhere , and she looks as thrilled as Loki feels right now.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Loki snaps.

Ravonna jabs her thumb over her shoulder and into the house. “Mobius told me I could just go in the front door. I guess people aren’t on time to parties anymore.”

Loki flips his hair out of his face and pushes past her and into the house. Over his shoulder he says, “Make yourself useful and help me take out the cocktail ingredients.”

Mobius better get here soon and pull his little buddy away from him. Loki sure as hell isn’t trying to interact with her if he doesn’t have to.

She apparently has other ideas. “How is it that you seem to know everybody?”

Loki picks up a tray and pushes it towards Ravonna, making her scramble for a moment before grabbing it. “And yet, everyone seems to think they know me. Ironic, isn’t it?” He turns back around and grabs the other tray, walking past Ravonna who hasn’t used that almighty brain of hers to think that she should walk outside with the tray instead of waiting for Loki to show her how to do everything. He grits his teeth to keep from saying anything too bad. Otherwise he’ll be hearing it from Mobius later.

Thankfully Thor seemed to have the same idea about the drinks, because he meets them at the door and plucks the tray from Ravonna with a laugh. “Don’t make our guests work! Ravonna, can I make you something?”

Loki sets the tray down and continues to the group of people now walking in, one of which he vaguely recognizes as the one whose kid is really into ants for some reason. The kid in question is standing behind her father—Seth or Sean or something else with an S—up until she spots the swings, before she sprints towards it, leaving Sal (that’s definitely not it) to stand there, uncomfortably clapping his hands together. Alright, fine. He can make friends if he needs to. Even if Thor’s taste is usually overwhelmingly terrible.

It takes an hour for people to finally stop trickling into this backyard, and Ravonna has already consumed enough margaritas to feel not completely out of her element. She spends all day everyday talking to academics who she’s known forever, and this crowd is a mixed bag of people who have nothing in common save for knowing Thor. 

Over her cup, Ravonna is staring at Loki and Mobius on the opposite side of the backyard. Mobius had snuck in at some point, Ravonna hasn’t gotten to head over and talk to him just yet. Loki is standing with half his body pressed against Mobius' back, head ducked slightly as the two of them talk. She's pretty sure if she looks close enough, one of Loki's hands is resting on the small of Mobius' back. 

It's just...mind-boggling to her. Nobody seems to care that this is happening. Also, nobody warned her that Loki would even be here. The man she thought was Loki's husband is toiling away on the grill, bopping away to whatever music she doesn't recognize that's playing quite loudly. There are tons of people who aren't batting an eye. Did she miss something?

"They're sweet, aren't they?" someone says as they approach Ravonna from behind, and Ravonna whips her head around to see a woman a bit shorter than her smiling.

"I'm sorry?"

"Those two. Hard to believe they've only been married for two years. Feels like a lifetime."

Ravonna snaps her head back at Mobius and Loki. Mobius is covering his mouth and laughing, while Loki, still close, watches him with a fond smile.

Oh, fuck.

Ravonna tilts her glass towards Thor on the grill. “And Thor is…”

“Loki’s brother, yeah,” the woman chuckles. “Loki’s adopted.”

Welp, she might as well start drafting her massive apology letter now. The woman gets dragged off into another conversation and Ravonna watches her go, racking her brain for why the hell neither of them thought it might be smart to drop a name over the last few months. Not that she has to blame them for her misunderstanding, but really would it be so difficult? As if he senses her turmoil from across the garden, Loki catches her eye and winks. That little troublemaker. Of course he knows exactly what’s going on. He almost certainly has always known. Since the beginning of the year. Son of a bitch.

“Jane just spilled the beans,” Loki murmurs next to Mobius’ ear.

Mobius glances over at Ravonna, who is now fully in a conversation with someone else that Loki vaguely recognizes. “I figured someone was bound to today. We still have the graduation.”

Loki hums and slides his hand into Mobius’ back pocket. No sense in not having a little fun out here. Mobius casts him a look, and before he can even do anything else, there’s a childlike scream and then someone barrels into Mobius’ legs and knocks his hand loose.

“Sorry!” she shouts, circling around his legs and pointing an arm at another boy who looks just about ready to pounce. “We’re playing tag and we made you the base.”

Loki leans close again to mumble, “Which one’s this? Snart’s kid?”

“ Scott,” Mobius hiss-whispers back.

Mobius squats down next to the child and wraps his arm around her shoulder, as if protecting her from the other child. “Can bases move, Cassie?” he asks.

Cassie nods enthusiastically. “I said so. Tommy said no but he’s fast and can catch up so I think it’s fair.”

“It’s not fair!” the child called Tommy exclaims.

Loki backs very slowly out of child-tackling range as Mobius, ever the mediator, says, “What if I promise to walk slowly?”

Loki goes to pour himself another drink and takes the moment of no one trying to talk to him to sit down and watch the goings-on without disruption. Getting absorbed into conversations that don’t have anything to do with him is usually very interesting, but he finds himself drawn to where Mobius is now being circled by a sprinting Tommy, protecting Cassie who is keeping very close to Mobius’ legs. 

They had talked about kids once. Before they were together, face to face in Mobius’ office, shooting the shit about nothing because Loki didn’t feel like going home. His brother was the one who was good with kids, not him. He liked college students because they were full adults. They could think on their own, debate on their own. They kept Loki on their toes, and then Loki could forget they ever existed when they graduate or never take his class again. But a child? Someone to be responsible for twenty-four seven? Not many things scare Loki. 

Mobius sidesteps unexpectedly and Cassie gets two-hand tagged by Tommy. He’d make a great father. Loki doesn’t want to deprive him of that forever.

Chapter Text

Once he’s done being the mediator of some very intense children, Mobius jogs over and sits down heavily next to Loki with a dramatic sigh and a smile. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Loki juts his chin towards Billy, who is holding his hands out in the middle of a standoff between Cassie and Tommy. “Which one’s that?”

Mobius scoffs. “He’s also Wanda’s. She’s somewhere around here.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki mutters under his breath, “I like her.”

"She's sweet," Mobius agrees. He waits a second before tapping the outside of Loki's thigh. "What are you actually thinking about?"

He watches as Loki's jaw works for a second before he asks, "Do you want kids? You're just so...good with them."

“I always thought ‘someday, maybe, sure’," Mobius starts slowly, "but as time went on and I got older I never really… saw myself as a father." He turns his head to look at Loki and adds, “That has nothing to do with you, of course. I would love to have a kid with you, if that’s what we wanted. But I like my life. I like what I do, I like my routine, I’m perfectly happy with the little life I’ve carved out for myself. If Thor ever has a kid though, I promise to be insufferable.”

Loki laughs softly. “You have uncle energy.”

Mobius pokes the outside of Loki’s thigh. “Ex-actly . You hit the nail right on the nose.”

Loki bats at Mobius' hand, and Mobius doubles down by jabbing his side and making Loki squirm. The two of them chuckle quietly and turn their focus back on the kids, still deep in the throes of an intense game of tag. Loki steals a look at Mobius; the man has a small smile on his face as he watches the children run around, probably mentally keeping tabs on who's 'it' and silently cheering for the girl. Maybe Loki could guilt Thor into having a kid so he could see Uncle Mobius in action. Get his act together with that professor in the biology department with all those PHDs and buck up already. Uncle Mobius just sounds too natural.

"We could get a cat," Loki offers, and Mobius' smile spreads into a full grin.

"It'd be like having two of you around."

"What?" Loki balks, and Mobius looks at him with that stupid grin. "I am not— "

"A little pussycat?" Mobius interjects, and Loki presses his mouth shut. "Come on sweetheart, knocking things over just to get my attention is exactly your speed."

Loki huffs and turns away from Mobius. "That was one time."

Despite himself, Mobius' loud and surprised laugh makes Loki smile. He's never been good at feigning anger when it comes to that man. 

Before Mobius can continue waxing poetic about how a cat would be the perfect pet for them, a new and seemingly more shy child approaches from Loki's right. It takes Loki a moment to recognize this as Tony's kid—she, if anything, is the complete opposite of both of her parents at this age that Loki is surprised she's not declaring that everyone on the playground works for her.

She twists her little hands together and gives a small smile. "My daddy said to ask you where the bathroom was."

Loki's mouth opens and closes, trying to figure out what the hell people even say to children, before he tilts his head and smiles. "Oh, well, I'm not actually too familiar—"

Mobius slaps him in the side, and Loki whips his head around to see Mobius jerk his head inside. Loki presses his lips together angrily and widens his eyes, silently asking Mobius to take the damned kid himself. Mobius shakes his head. Fine.

Loki turns back around and replaces his best, hopefully kid-soothing smile. "I suppose I could show you."

He stands and Morgan grabs his hand before he can even protest; over her head, he looks at Mobius and mouths, "What the fuck do I do?"

Mobius has the stupidest shit-eating grin on his face. He mouths back, "Just go."

Helpful as ever. With his free hand, Loki flips him off. Mobius blows him a kiss.

Once Morgan brings Loki back, she insists he be the base for tag, which the other, slightly older kids agree to enthusiastically. He's standing with his arms crossed in the middle of the lawn, and even though his posture says one thing, his face tells a whole other story. Loki's eyes are actively darting around to keep Morgan (who's "it" this round) in his line of sight, as Billy and Tommy both hide behind him. Mobius is watching fondly when Ravonna's hand smooths across his shoulders before she sits down next to him.

"I...feel like I owe you some sort of apology," she says, looking down at the cup in her hands. 

Mobius leans over to bump his shoulder against hers. "No need."

Ravonna studies him for a second before sighing. "How long have we been friends?"

Mobius smiles. "Way too long if you ask me."

"Ha, ha," Ravonna deadpans. "How did I miss this happening?"

"Well," Mobius drawls, waving his hand in a circle, "that was kind of the whole point."

"Teacher and student, yes, how rebellious of you."

"Ah-ah, no, professor and grad student," Mobius clarifies, shaking his head. "Much different. There's nuance."

Ravonna chuckles softly. "Of course."

"And you know how Dean Kang can be."

She scoffs. "Don't drag him into it now—"

Mobius says at the same time, "And I know you have your weird little crush on him—"

"I do not!"

Mobius levels a stare at her.

Ravonna flounders for a second. "I, well—you have to admit he's a good-looking man."

"I don't have to admit anything."

A child yelps and Mobius looks over to find Loki with his hand planted directly in the middle of Morgan's forehead, defending himself and the other children from her wildly flailing arms. He must see Mobius look over, because he lifts his head just in time to smirk and wink at him. Ravonna, who is also watching this go down, clears her throat.

"How many years ago was it? When you two…"

"Four. Five if you count the year he was my student."

Ravonna snaps her finger, making Mobius look away from Loki and the kids. "You know what, I think I do remember that. We stopped getting drinks after work as often. You gave me some excuse about trying to get into a better routine or something."

Mobius pats her shoulder. "Well then I guess we both have something to apologize for."

Ravonna hums in agreement. The two of them lapse into a comfortable silence, watching Loki slowly try to creep away from the children and towards the table with the alcohol on it. As he takes steps, Billy and Tommy stay behind him, and Mobius can tell he's a few seconds away from just walking away regardless of what the kids think.

Mobius was once roped into having the kids conversation once, at school.  

“Have you and your wife ever thought of kids?”

Mobius knew Dr. Tucker was trying to be polite. He’s an unbelievably old man who always had everyone’s best interests in mind. One the crazy old tenured accounting professors who Mobius had, against his better judgement, bonded with during one of his first years as a professor and couldn’t seem to shake. While it was completely inappropriate to talk about this with this man, Mobius found he couldn’t help it.

“In passing.”

Dr. Tucker smiled, a flash of yellow teeth. “How come you don’t have any?”

Mobius’ lips curved into a smirk. “We’re, ah, unable to have kids of our own.”

Dr. Tucker hummed a soft ‘oh’, and Mobius clears his throat and folds his arms over his chest. The older man looks thoroughly uncomfortable with the topic they’ve broached, and Mobius wets his lips.

“We’re busy people,” he added, as an afterthought.

“Adoption?”

Mobius looked down at his feet and cleared his throat. “This isn’t what I came to discuss, Dennis.”

A wave of sadness passed over the old man’s face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Mobius looked back up and studied Dr. Tucker; he wasn’t sure why, all of a sudden, he wanted to bare all his child-related feelings to this man. This man who thought he had a wife. Maybe he was the asshole for never correcting him. Mobius sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. “We thought about it. I looked at all the qualifications out of curiosity—we fit but...I don’t know. Wasn’t time. Maybe it never will be.”

“How long have the two of you been together?”

Mobius smiled. “Almost a year.”

Dr. Tucker wasn’t subtle when he mouthed ‘wow’ and pushed himself up out of his chair. It took him a second to round the desk and place a comforting hand on Mobius’ shoulder. “If you ever need any help with the process or anything, let me know. My wife and I had to go through it decades ago. I’m sure it’s easier now, but I can probably give some words of wisdom.”

“We have time. But, uh...thanks, Dennis.”

Mobius never told Loki about that particular conversation. Mostly because Loki would go straight into that professor’s office and give him a piece of his mind regarding heteronormativity. Something along the lines of ‘just because Mobius wears flip flops and khakis does not mean he is a straight man’, which is a rant that Mobius has been on the receiving end of before. Mobius smiles to himself and takes another sip of his drink.

Ravonna, who must have been watching him watch Loki, bumps her knee into his. “You also seemed happier. Not that you were sad before—”

“No, no,” Mobius interrupts with a shake of his head. Across the lawn, Billy slips and hits the ground. Loki presses his lips together to keep himself from laughing, instead holding out a hand for the kid to take and hoist himself up. Mobius continues, “I was kind of stuck, if I’m honest.”

Ravonna turns to look where he’s looking. “And the...person laughing at a kid who just fell is the one who helped you out of that rut.”

Mobius scoffs. “Yeah. It doesn’t make sense to me either.”

Chapter Text

“This brings back memories,” Mobius says as he adjusts the front of Loki’s graduation hood, the two of them standing face-to-face in the middle of Mobius’ office.

Loki scoffs, “It was two years ago.”

“Was it?” Mobius asks, smiling up at Loki. “Feels like yesterday.”

Loki nods his chin towards Mobius’ graduation cap. “That thing looks ridiculous.”

“They really didn’t consider aesthetics when making the doctoral garb, no.”

It’s Loki’s turn to reach up and fuss with the cap on Mobius’ head, straightening it out before moving his hands down to rest on either side of Mobius’ neck. “I’ve seriously got to wear this every year?”

“Forever and ever,” Mobius jokes, almost sing-song, “until you retire.”

Loki grunts.

“Or if you ever decide to get a doctorate, and then you get to wear an even worse option.”

“I’d rather die than do school again, if I’m honest with you.”

“You always are,” Mobius chuckles, resting his hands on Loki’s waist. “Dr. Loki has a kick to it though, doesn’t it? Dr. Laufeyson.”

“Ew.”

“I’m getting chills just thinking about it.”

“How? It’s ninety degrees in these accursed things.”

Mobius chuckles softly. "It's only gonna get hotter."

Loki grins and tilts his head slightly. "Are you flirting with me, Doctor?"

"Guilty," Mobius admits, trying his best to look a little sheepish, "but we really have to get going."

"One second," Loki murmurs, before leaning in to kiss him. 

Once they part, Mobius sighs and looks pleadingly at the front door of his office. "I don't want to do this."

Loki clicks his tongue and smooths his hands over Mobius' lapels. "You promised."

"It was a bad promise," Mobius says, "what if we get in trouble?"

"We won't," Loki assures. Mobius is still watching the door, so he tugs on the front of his robe lightly to get him to look. When Mobius turns, he catches his lips in another quick kiss. "I think we deserve a last bit of fun before the summer, no?"

Mobius' jaw works for a moment, before he sighs. "Nothing's gonna happen."

"Nothing's gonna happen," Loki echoes. "We'll all laugh about this in August."

The air at graduation is always a confusing one. It's a sadness filled with excitement, dread for the future chased up with glee about what that future may hold. Some people cry, some people drink, others just want to get the hell out of Dodge. The professors are the same, but on a smaller scale—some of them have students they will deeply miss, others just want the kids to leave them alone so they can finally relax for the summer. Mobius is generally towards the latter. The only student he ever really bonded with is standing at his side now, the two of them headed towards the rest of their colleagues. Loki will probably miss a few of the kids. Definitely Sylvie, at least. Mobius wouldn't be surprised if she showed up at their house one day.

The TVA on the outside is much more lively than the old and tan-tinged interior. The grass is well-maintained, now lined with rows and rows of chairs for the incoming graduates. It's a luckily sunny day, not too hot, even though the heavy fabric of the gowns will make everyone just a little uncomfortable. Along one side of the wide green there are a row of trees that line the academic row; the spring has them blooming nicely, providing an excuse for those students who never cry and need something to blame it on. 

A makeshift stage that Mobius is intimately familiar with is getting its finishing touches, upon which the dean, Kang, is strutting around in his purple doctoral robe, making sure everything is in place. The others are placing themselves strategically out of the way of his tirade, even though the man is smiling as he goes. Loki and Mobius share a glance as they head to their seats.

Graduation is long and boring, same as it ever is. The valedictorian is some nerd (Loki's words) who tries and fails to tell jokes to a less-than-enthusiastic crowd. Their guest speaker is a bit more successful in riling them up, although in the opposite direction—Loki has a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter as Dr. Banner tries to talk over rowdy young adults about the meaningfulness of life after graduation. He is going to have a field day with this one. Especially since Thor is in the audience.

Once caps are thrown in celebration, everyone rises from their seats and starts finding their peers and their professors. With a quick, parting touch on the shoulder Mobius and Loki set out different ways to find people who may be looking for them in the sea of black robes.

Amidst the crowd, Mobius sidles up to the dean, who is happily chatting with a few students who either aren't listening or trying to escape the conversation. Kang is a nice man, but there's something about the way he talks that places him on a whole new pedestal than everyone else. He knows what happens, exactly when it happens, and if you're unlucky enough to get on his bad side, he makes it explicitly clear.

Kang did not enjoy Mobius very much. Even before his and Loki's relationship started, the two never quite saw eye-to-eye. 

"Mobius!" Kang announces, clapping a hand onto his shoulder, "Made it through another graduation, huh?"

Mobius laughs politely, but starts looking around the crowd. "Not completely unscathed. Have you seen my husband anywhere? He tends to stick out in crowds, but not when everyone's dressed the same."

Kang's face lights up with confusion. "Husband! When did you find the time?"

"Not everyone spends their free time devoted to this place."

"No, but there's few that are more dedicated than you. Not to mention that whole—" Kang waves his hand in the air in a circle,"— debacle a few years ago I just figured—"

Mobius catches his eye and gives him a challenging glare. "Figured what?"

Kang's face falls ever so slightly before he smiles wide once more. "I'm just glad things worked out for you."

"Me too," Loki chimes in, approaching from behind Mobius, one hand snaking across his lower back to alert him of his presence. "Thought the old man would never settle down."

"So rude," Mobius mutters under his breath. Loki presses a kiss to his cheek for good measure.

Kang's smile gets wiped off his face completely, now replaced with a seriousness that, if Mobius was alone, he would probably be scared by. Instead, he kind of wants to laugh. Kang looks around to see if anyone else has seen what just transpired in front of him—all he finds are excited, weepy students and professors minding their own business. When he looks back, Loki is grinning wolfishly at him. Mobius is watching Loki, a fond and small smile on his lips.

"See you in August," Loki says, voice a low drawl. Kang just nods and excuses himself, folding his hands together in front of his waist before disappearing into the crowd. 

Loki is the first to crack, ducking his head to laugh. Mobius slaps the middle of his chest, still watching where Kang disappeared to, a smile on his face. "Stop it. Stop—"

"I wish the cameras were still rolling," Loki says between laughs. When he lifts his head he flips his hair back, forgetting about the cap on his head, and sending it flying a few inches back. This makes Mobius crack, the two of them cackling quietly in the middle of a sea of people who couldn't be any wiser to their situation.

Payton is holding onto Steph’s hand as she tries to navigate her way through the crowd, tugging the other woman through. “I want to settle this,” Payton calls over her shoulder, and Steph’s groan is loud enough to hear over the crowd of chattering students.

“There’s nothing to settle! James and I cracked it!” Steph calls back, huffing when Payton banks left and tugs her arm to keep her close.

“Absolutely not. There is no way that Ravonna and Mobius are together.”

“Give me an explanation then!”

Payton stops moving, making Steph bump into her now-still body. Steph clears her throat as she steadies her footing again, before Payton says, quieter now, “I think we have to man up and ask.”

“ What?” Steph balks. “We’ve spent all semester speculating about some juicy gossip and now we’re just going to ask?”

“I am not going to graduate without knowing,” Payton states firmly. Her gaze makes it clear that she’s going to ask no matter what Steph tries to say. Whatever . Steph sighs and nods, before the two of them continue through the crowd until Payton calls out, “Dr. Mobius!”

The professor spins around with a large grin on his face, glancing at Steph and offering her the same thing. Steph doesn’t even know if the guy remembers her from that class last year, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Payton has spent way more time with Dr. Mobius than, probably, the rest of the student body combined. She doesn’t know what the hell that girl sees in this professor.

“I never got to congratulate you after we granted you honors,” Dr. Mobius says as he and Payton hug quickly. Steph looks down at her feet as they do so. “Your symposium was excellent.”

Payton nudges Steph with her hand to make her look up again. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh!” Dr. Mobius says all of a sudden, flinging a hand out into the air by his side. “Have you met my husband? I’m almost positive you didn’t have him this year—” he turns to where he’s gesturing and shouts, “ Loki!”

Steph flinches like someone just blasted an air horn directly into her ear. Payton glances at her and widens her eyes, and Steph can’t even react fast enough to get her own reaction out there. Sure enough, Loki excuses himself from whatever conversation he’s having and comes over, looking between the three of them before smiling and holding his hand out to Payton. “Hello. I heard quite a bit about your research. Sounded interesting,” he says. When he turns to Steph, his smile changes ever-so-slightly in a way that she can’t quite place before he says, “Congratulations, Stephanie.”

Steph’s mouth opens and closes a couple times before she gives up, presses her lips into a tight smile, and nods. Dr. Mobius, Loki, and Payton all have a conversation that she can’t hear over the sound of all the wheels turning in her head. Because of course it makes sense. Well, no, it really doesn’t, especially looking at the two of them side by side. But even then , when Loki talks and Dr. Mobius watches him with this silent fondness that Steph would kill to experience in her life, or when Dr. Mobius gets excited about Payton’s job that she has lined up and starts using his hands to talk and Loki has a similar bemused look on his face? Of course they’re in love. It just makes sense.

“Do you have any plans yet, Steph?” Loki asks, snapping her out of her lovelorn daydream.

Steph shakes her head instinctively. Then, she realizes she should probably say something, so the two professors don’t think they handed a bachelor’s degree to a moron. “No, no. Not yet anyway.”

Loki flaps a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t know what I was doing for...oh, ten, eleven years?” He shares a meaningful look with Dr. Mobius, which makes a small smile grace his lips when he turns back to Steph. “I ended up here either way. It’s perfectly alright to not know yet.”

Steph smiles. “Thanks, Professor.”

As the girls walk away, a lot of the students seem to have a similar idea and start dispersing with their families and friends to various post-graduation plans. Loki slips his hand easily into Mobius’ and sighs. “I didn’t think I’d get emotional.”

“It’s your first graduating class,” Mobius explains, giving Loki’s hand a light squeeze before they start walking back towards the building, “that means something to even the most cold-hearted snake.”

“That’s no way to talk to your husband two weeks before your anniversary.”

“You’re so right. I’ll be sure to worship the ground you walk on until then,” Mobius teases. When they get to a crosswalk, Mobius holds a hand out and moves to unzip his gown. “No, your highness, please , allow me.”

Loki rolls his eyes and bats Mobius’ hands away from the zipper, glancing around to see if anyone else is watching this idiotic stunt. “That’s downright embarrassing.”

“My sincerest apologies, my liege,” Mobius says, raising his voice to be a high-pitched and offensive mimic of Loki’s own accent, “I will never dare to interfere with your glorious purpose ever again.”

Loki walks straight past Mobius. “I’m leaving you.”

Mobius jogs a few steps and catches Loki’s hand in his once more. “Now that’s no way to talk to your husband two weeks before your anniversary.”

The two of them bicker the entire way back to Mobius’ office. It’s a routine that they’ve completed more times in the span of their relationship than anyone else, and yet they have never run out of things to argue about. Maybe they never will. They both certainly hope they never do. In the office, separately, they set about taking their caps and gowns off, hanging them up nice and neat, straightening the clothes underneath and fixing their hair. When Loki finishes, he looks over at Mobius; Mobius is fiddling with the hood of the robe, making sure it lays flat on the hanger, even though he will probably press it when they get back home (just like he pressed it before they left the house). It’s a stupidly mundane moment. Loki tends to find these all throughout their relationship—Mobius is, at his core, stupidly mundane. But his heart feels full of an uncomplicated kind of love. One that he doesn’t have to explain, nor could he to anyone except probably the man who’s standing with his back towards him, humming a wordless tune while he deftly smooths the small wrinkles from the piece of clothing he only wears once a year.

“You know I, uh,” Loki blurts, making Mobius turn to look at him, “I lied to you.”

Mobius slowly smiles, the all-knowing smug one that makes something warm spread in Loki’s chest. “Which time?”

“When I said I hadn’t written vows. When we got married.”

“Oh.”

This office is the site of so much emotion for Loki. For both of them. Loki scuffs his toe against the dull grey carpet that he has paced across more times than he can count on both hands. He breathes a laugh, “Well, I mean, I never wrote them down . I thought about what I’d say if I were to propose to you for...longer than I’d like to admit.”

Mobius turns around fully and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Before I got you first?”

“I would’ve done it in here, obviously,” Loki says, to which Mobius nods his head a little and echoes obviously. He continues with a smile, “I think it’s better that it happened the way it did.”

“What would you have said?”

Loki holds his hands out, palms facing up, opposite of what they did at their backyard wedding. Mobius steps forward and places his hands on top, and Loki shifts on his feet for a few moments. Mobius' eyes roam over his face, probably searching for whatever brought this on, ready to soothe whatever he needs. Loki hangs his head and takes a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with it, before he lifts up and smiles.

“Bear with me, it’s been a while. Not once did I think that I would ever settle down. I didn’t want to—I was terrified that if I stopped, I would crash and burn. I thought I was...destined to keep wandering about trying to find my purpose in life. I’m not one to believe in fate or whatever, but whatever got me to come back to school and meet you, I should figure out a way to thank it. You made me unafraid to finally stop running.”

Mobius sniffles, and then removes one of his hands from Loki's to wipe his nose before muttering, “Sorry, keep going.”

“I can’t believe I get to wake up every day next to someone who finds it so easy to love me, even when I don’t find it easy to love myself.”

“It’s not hard. It never will be.”

Loki moves his free hand to cup his cheek. Mobius silently leans his head into the touch and opens his mouth like he’s about to speak—Loki doesn’t let him, closing the space between them like he has countless times before, and will continue to do. This part he’s much more comfortable with than putting words to his emotions, the slow, confident slide of lips. They have all the time in the world in this stupid little office, the one that’s decorated in different shades of brown and books that Mobius could probably name in his sleep. 

Mobius pulls back and opens his eyes, light blue and shining with unshed tears. “For all time,” he murmurs, lips ghosting against Loki’s.

Loki grins and whispers back, “Always.”

Chapter Text

Summer approaches quickly and brings with it a comfortable heat. Early June, before it's so hot that just thinking about going outside makes you sweat. Most of the pollen from the spring has left, leading to regular, fully-bloomed plants, and the lawn in the backyard actually requires maintenance to keep it from dying.

Summer is also Mobius' favorite season. He watches the freshly opened pool glitter in the sunlight as he drinks his morning coffee, reads books he's already analyzed out in the fresh air, drags Loki out and ensures that every part of his way-too-pale body is protected from the sun. Loki loves Mobius always, but he especially loves Mobius now; the man is in his element during the summer months, even if he keeps refusing to get rid of his gross flip flops.

Case in point: Loki is finishing putting his hair up as he exits the bedroom, finally dressed to go to the beach, when he drops everything to stare incredulously at Mobius. Mobius, who's on his phone by the door, looks up at the commotion with a soft hum.

“Absolutely not.”

It takes Mobius a second to register what Loki’s referring to and he narrows his eyes quickly at him, before looking down at the blue Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing. “What’s wrong with the shirt?”

“ What’s wrong with the shirt, ” Loki mutters before pointing with both of his hands at him. “Everything! Everything is wrong with the shirt. I’m just glad you’re wearing the swim trunks I bought you. At least.”

“Oh, well yeah. I like them.” For emphasis, Mobius smooths his hands down the front of the shorts. He lifts his head and declares, “I’m not changing the shirt.”

Loki groans and spins in a dramatic circle. “I’m going to burn it while you’re asleep.”

Mobius laughs. “Come on! For better or worse, remember that? This,” he waves a hand up and down at his own shirt, “is the worse.”

“I don’t think the shirt was in your vows.”

“No, but it was in my closet, which counts.”

“Took about as long to come out of there as you did.”

Mobius throws his head back to laugh, wagging a finger at Loki. “That—that’s a good one. How long’ve you been waiting for that conversation to happen?”

Loki finally goes back to putting his hair up, a small smile on his face. “Was hoping it would happen in a real fight, but I’ll take it.”

Mobius wipes a tear from the corner of his eye and slides the sunglasses off his forehead and onto his face. He then nods towards the door behind him. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

There is nothing special about the beach they frequent. If they choose to spend time on the land, it is full of, like every other beach, families who are frying in the sun and drunken beachgoers who may or may not be too young to have smuggled alcohol onto the premises. For this particular excursion, though, they’re standing on a dock that sticks out into the ocean, although the beach is a few miles away, and the next closest thing to a beach is the boat ramp that leads those with their own jet skis and boats into the open ocean. 

A bored teenager explains the rules of jet ski rental to the two of them; it’s clear that both the teen does not want to be talking, nor Loki wants to be listening. He’s eyeing the jet ski warily, the bland grey machine bobbing gently with the waves, taunting him with what’s about to happen. Mobius is listening enthusiastically, despite him probably having been on a jet ski longer than the teen has been alive. The thought makes Loki grimace at the jet ski. Almost like it wronged him personally. (This particular one didn’t, anyway.)

Loki grabs the neck of the lifejacket and tugs it away from him, rolling his shoulders back to try and give himself just a glimpse of freedom from the damp garment. It smells like feet and ocean water, and the grimace must not only be on his mind, because he feels the back of Mobius’ hand knock into his hip to get his attention. Subtly, barely a full lift of his arm to signal to him that it’s time for him to play nice again. Loki clears his throat and nods with a tight-lipped smile to the teenager who returns the nod quickly and then turns on a heel to book it back to their safe haven of a little hut at the end of the dock.

“You ready?” Mobius asks as he toes off his flip flops, and Loki huffs.

“No.” Loki mutters this as he reaches down to tuck his and Mobius’ shoes under the bench, right underneath the shirts they doffed and exchanged for sticky lifejackets.

“We don’t have to go if—”

Loki lifts his head and glares at Mobius, who just smiles, shakes his head, and mounts the jet ski effortlessly. Even though there is water and a level change. It’s just ridiculous—no matter how many times he and Mobius have come here, Loki’s approach is more of a giraffe learning how to walk for the first time. 

Mobius turns around and extends a hand to Loki to help him on, but (as always) Loki is stubborn and just shoots him a look as he approaches the edge. One foot goes down, and then he grabs Mobius’ hand in a vice grip so he can try and wobble his way onto the metal beast. Once he gets on, shaking the jet ski something fierce along the way, he wraps his arms around Mobius’ waist, just below the lifejacket.

With a laugh, Mobius twists the handle to rev the engine. Loki makes a rather petrified noise and wraps his arms tighter around Mobius' waist.

Mobius laughs. "Don't you trust me?"

"No! Clearly not!" Loki shouts against the wet fabric of the lifejacket, before pulling his head out of it and hooking his chin on Mobius' shoulder. "I still haven't forgiven you for what happened last year."

"It's the ocean sweetheart, I have no control over what it does." Mobius takes one hand off the handle to pat the outside of Loki's thigh. "Just try to trust me, alright?"

"I thought the 'until death' part would be way later than this," Loki grumbles.

"Aw, you know that's actually sort of sweet—"

"Shut it," Loki snaps, but Mobius can tell he's smiling. "You're lucky I love you."

"I really am."

Loki groans, but any witty remark is cut off by Mobius sending them flying out onto the ocean. No gentle acceleration, just top speed and as fast as humanly possible. Loki complains every time they do this; even though he trusts Mobius wholeheartedly, especially with the man’s years and years of experience on a jet ski, he's still nervous every time he climbs aboard.

In reality, Mobius isn’t going top speed. He teases it every now and again, but he knows how to keep tabs on how comfortable Loki is behind him; when Loki relaxes a little bit, his arms loosen around his waist, before they hit a wave and his arms are right back around him, snakelike. Right now Mobius is travelling on the faster side, but Loki has his head resting on the sleeve of the lifejacket, watching the whole ocean stretch out as they go, head rising and thumping back onto his shoulder every time they catch a small wave. 

He calls, “How’re you holding up back there?”

“Good,” Loki shouts back, “still haven’t been bucked off this time.”

Mobius rolls his eyes. “I lost count of how many times I apologized for that.”

“Not enough!”

“Do you want to try?”

Loki lifts his head and leans to make bewildered eye contact with Mobius. “Absolutely not!”

“It’s not difficult.”

Loki falls quiet for a second. He looks at the handles where Mobius’ hands aren’t even resting currently, and then back at his husband. “...really?”

“I was eleven when my father put me on one by myself,” Mobius explains, and then gestures towards the handles.

Them shuffling around each other also isn’t the most graceful thing in the world, but this time Loki’s not alone. It involves some shifting backwards, an obscene amount of manmade waves, and not a small amount of manhandling to get them situated, but once Loki is up front and holding onto the handles, he takes a deep breath. “What am I doing?”

Mobius explains, chin hooked on the now-less-damp lifejacket, arms around Loki’s and just shy of actually being able to place his hands atop Loki’s to guide him. (Admittedly, Loki gets a little distracted by seeing this that he misses a few steps, but knowing Mobius, he was just elaborating for effect anyway.) When he’s finished with his explanation, Mobius rests his warm hands on the skin below the vest, and Loki relaxes slightly at the familiarity. 

His first couple of tries are jerky and send them launching a couple of times. Every time, Mobius doesn’t tense his hands around Loki’s waist. In fact, if Loki had been listening instead of silently cursing himself for not getting a handle on this right away, he would hear Mobius laughing quietly behind him. After a few attempts, though, he manages to set a moderate pace and go straight forward without any interruptions. He laughs triumphantly, leans a bit more forward, and—with his newfound confidence—starts them going much faster. Mobius pats himself on the back, for he knew that Loki would take to it quickly. He’s a fast learner, after all.

In fact, Loki surprises Mobius (and probably himself) by leaning left and yanking the handles right, making a sharp turn and throwing up a wall of water because of it. He laughs, loudly, and turns around to grin at Mobius. “Did you see that?” he yells excitedly.

Mobius chuckles and nods. “You learned from the best.”

Once the novelty wears off and Loki’s hands hurt from gripping too hard, he steers them to the dock and they disembark with about as equal success as Loki did getting onto the water. It always takes them a few minutes to remember how to walk on land, and that time they spend chatting idly about how Mobius knew Loki would like it, he just had to try , and Loki vehemently denying that he had a good time, despite the smile that’s still on his face.

Their first date was here, years ago. First real one, anyway—”real” to them meaning they had  scheduled to meet outside of office hours or stolen moments behind closed doors. School had let out for the summer, although it wasn’t quite June yet. And the date wasn’t technically here , it had started at Mobius’ house, with dinner and dessert that he admitted he didn’t make like the dinner, he’s actually an awful baker. Loki commented that baking’s the only thing he can really do, because cooking bores him. That was a lie. The only baking he can do is those pre-cut Pilsbury cookies, but damn can he do it well.

They didn’t want to go out anywhere, for fear of being seen. Not like a lot of the students stick around once the semester ends, but they wanted to be sure that they didn’t get found out when this was something that could end up being a silly and ill-advised summer fling that the two of them would move on from. Mobius, not wanting the night to end, offered to take Loki to the beach he always went to. “It’s not the season for it, so no one will be there,” he explained, and as he did, a blush colored the tops of his cheeks, and he ducked his head in a laugh when he added, “If you’d like.” Loki very much liked.

Much like now, they strolled the shoreline aimlessly. Mobius explained why he liked this beach better than some of the others in the area—the sand was mostly bigger chunks of shell, sure, but that meant that less people would be around to wonder why this man always rode his jet ski by himself. Loki laughed softly and tried to think of a way to take Mobius’ hand in his own, and then reprimanded himself for sounding like a teenager in his head.

“Shit,” Mobius muttered under his breath, and Loki watched him look around. “We wandered pretty far, huh.”

Loki shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”

Mobius turned and started in the direction back towards when they came. “Probably should head back.”

Loki grabbed Mobius’ hand before he could think of a reason to. Spun the man back around, Mobius giving him a confused smile as he turned. Loki floundered for a moment—he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to mess this up. “In a second.”

Mobius raised his eyebrows, amused. “Yeah?”

They kissed, there. Slow, meaningful, with the waves that were too cold hitting their feet every so often. It wasn’t even technically the beach that Mobius frequents, that’s how far they had gone—in reality it was someone’s backyard that they were loitering on, but it’s fine, because everyone else does it too.

Hell, they’ve done it nearly every time they’ve come back here. They’re doing it now, Mobius pulling back from the kiss to squint at the house whose back comes nearly right up to the shoreline. “Do you think they’re tired of us at this point?”

Loki snorts and looks at the house as well. “I hope they’re silently rooting for us.”

“I wonder if the house is on the market.”

“I think the more appropriate question is if two professor salaries can afford it.”

“You don’t know how much money we have. I do the taxes.”

Loki groans. “Just hearing you say taxes makes me bored.”

On that first date, Mobius had known that he was in this for the long haul. Trusting too quickly had led him astray in the past sometimes, but he was older now, and would continue to get older. He didn’t have the patience to send someone through trials—and honestly, he and Loki had danced around each other to practically qualify for trials. If his heart got broken, then so be it. He would pick up and move on like he had time and time before. He had a feeling that if it came down to it, though, that this one would hurt.

Mobius hums. Loki pulls away to start heading back to their things, but Mobius doesn’t follow. Loki looks back in confusion; he’s still looking at the house, an inscrutable look on his face. He turns his head ever so slightly towards Loki and says, “You know, it’s not even that big. It seems larger at night.”

Loki looks at it again. He’s got a point—it’s a surprisingly normal house that just happens to look at the ocean. “I suppose so.”

On that first date, Loki had known that he was in this for the long haul. There was still hesitation, as he always hesitated when giving his heart to people, but he was older now, and would continue to get older. He didn’t have the patience to try and date around—he preferred hook ups for their lack of emotional connection, but this was a special occasion. If his heart got broken, then so be it. He could find some way to bounce back like he had time and time before. He had a feeling that if it came down to it, though, that this one would hurt.

Finally, Mobius looks away from the house and catches up with Loki. Loki slips his hand into Mobius’ own with practiced ease, and Mobius squeezes lightly, as he always does. Loki is the one to turn back and give a final glance to the house, and when he turns back, Mobius is watching him with a small smile, as if to say, It’s not a bad idea, is it?

“You’d have an excuse to have your own jet ski, at least.”

Mobius’ smile spreads into a full grin, and he leans up to press a quick kiss to Loki’s lips. “I love you.”

“Do people name their jet skis? Like boats?” Loki asks as they start walking again, gesturing with his free hand. “I’m thinking...Barufakr. It means,” Loki waves his hands out in front of him, gesturing grandly, “Wave horse.”

Mobius scoffs. “No, people don’t name them. And I’m certainly not naming it wave horse. ”

“I’m not buying it for you if you don’t name it.”

“You’re not buying it for me at all.”

That first date they didn’t talk much on the walk back. It was a comfortable silence, both of them separately trying to figure out what their separate realizations meant for their relationship as a whole. None of them had said that they love the other one yet. It hadn’t even been a month yet! And yet Mobius knew in his heart that he would end up being the one who would say it first, when he least expected it. Loki knew that he would probably avoid saying it when Mobius said it to him first, even though he would mean it back. 

Loki finally grabbed Mobius’ hand and slotted their fingers together in the last two minutes of the walk. Mobius squeezed lightly, mostly because he was surprised that Loki had done it at all. They shared a glance and a small smile, and Loki said, “I suppose I should go home.”

Mobius shrugged. “You don’t have to.”

He didn’t.