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“Loki?” Mobius asks. His hands reverently cup the god’s face, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones, worshipping the soft pale skin of his face. His kind blue eyes see right through the wild green ones staring back at them.
Loki blinks, long lashes fluttering, and averts his eyes.
“Yes?”
The agent smiles at his bashfulness. He knows Loki has some issues with compliments, and they’ve been working on it together. Mobius slips compliments and praise into their casual conversations, during work and whenever they’re together. Loki seems to be making a lot of progress, eagerly showering his lover with affection and kind gestures. Mobius knows it’s his way of saying he’s grateful, and that makes it even more endearing.
Mobius brings his thumb to Loki’s lips, running his finger over them. Loki purses his lips, presses them closer in a soft kiss.
“I’d like for you to do something for me.” He says, both hands resuming their gentle worship of Loki’s cheekbones. His face shows no hint of malice, completely unguarded around the god.
It’s rare for Loki to trust anyone, not after everything, and yet.. He trusts this man. Trusts him enough to kiss him, to hold him, to let him touch him, to sleep with him, to make love with him, to eat with him. Mobius matches him on his level, yet manages to display a level of vulnerability that lets Loki know he can be trusted.
It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say that Mobius is the best thing to happen to him.
The god is quiet for a bit. “What is it?” He asks, voice slightly above a whisper. There’s no real need to be quiet, they’re sitting on the old wooden bench placed on the balcony in Mobius’s living quarters. There’s no one else here to overhear, and yet Loki keeps his voice low, as if he’s disclosing some sort of important secret.
Mobius pauses. His hands stop moving. “I’m not sure how comfortable you’ll be with this, but I’d figured I’d ask.” He continues on. There’s a hint of nervousness in his tone, eyes darting downwards. Loki would find it overwhelmingly cute if he wasn’t straining to hear what Mobius is saying next.
“I’d like for you to show me who you are.” He finishes softly, rubbing a circle into the soft skin of Loki’s cheek. ‘’I want to see all of you, not just the way you are now.”
Loki squints, cocks his head in confusion as he tries to comprehend what Mobius is asking. “Mobius, I’m really not quite sure what you’re referring to. We’ve been intimate numerous times, so I don’t understand what you are trying to say-”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that, mi sol.” The agent laughs, the edges of his bright blue eyes crinkling as he smiles. “I’m not asking for anything sexual. I just want to see..” He stops for a moment. “ You . Not your projection of yourself, as devilishly handsome you are,” He pauses to steal a quick kiss from Loki, making the god flush a lovely shade of pink, “I want to see you, just as you are. No change of form. No illusions.”
Now Loki catches on. He nods slowly, signalling his understanding.
“You wish to see me in Jotunn form?” He says slowly, quietly, letting Mobius hear each word of his own request carefully.
Mobius puffs out a breath. He does nothing more than cup the god’s jaw, and leans in to kiss Loki again, a barely-there press of lips.
“Yes.”
The room is engulfed in a comfortable silence for a while after that, no noise other than the soft breathing of two beings, their lives tangled up and belonging to each other in a sort of tangled up way, where they don’t really know who they are to each other, but they know that they can’t live without one another.
“Okay.” Loki whispers, just barely loud enough for the other man to hear. He definitely doesn’t think about the possibility of a bad outcome.
He doesn’t think about what will happen if Mobius doesn’t like what he sees. If he’s repulsed, ( And there’s a good chance he will be, his mind tells him,) will he run away? Hide? Abandon his work and leave Loki to be reset? Throw him to Renslayer and let him fade away into nothing more than paperwork and a sour memory?
He doesn’t realize his breathing has gone uneven until there’s suddenly not enough oxygen in them. His inhales are shallow and fast, Mobius’s face in front of him beginning to become blurred as his eyes suddenly fill with water. The familiar burning shame begins creeping up his throat and filling his chest, the sting making him tremble and shake.
He’s going to hate you, you know, and then he’ll either leave or die, just like every other person in your life, and you’ll be all alone again, same as before, and-
Then Mobius is shaking his shoulders, crying out for him, snapping him abruptly back into his body. “Loki, breathe! You’re having a panic attack!” He shouts, and Loki manages to slow his breathing a bit, squeezing his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he tastes the iron in his mouth as the violent shaking of his shoulders only gets worse.
And hell, he’s crying. The tears are spilling from his closed lids, hot and bitter. They catch on his eyelashes, and despite his best efforts, continue to flow. They roll down his face, dripping off his chin, leaving stinging trails of more self hatred in their wake.
It hurts , hurts more than anything, and yet..
He manages to gain the courage to open his eyes, and watches as Mobius takes off his jacket and rolls up the bottom. He brings it up to Loki’s face and begins wiping the wetness away as best he can. The generic, standard issue fabric is harsh against the god’s skin, almost painful, but he stays where he is and just takes the gesture of kindness.
Even though he doesn’t deserve it. Monsters don’t deserve the kindness Mobius gives him.
Loki hazards a tearful glance at Mobius, and immediately his heart feels like it’s shriveling within his chest as he attempts to curl in on himself.
The agent’s smiling, but it’s a rueful kind of smile, like he hates to see Loki hurting but is trying to remain positive for him.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He whispers. His eyes are watery too, but they’re filled with the sort of sheer emotion that makes Loki’s chest squeeze in a way he doesn’t like to think about too much. Maybe it’s because he’s scared after all those years pushing how he feels to the side, but there’s a nasty little part of him that rages when someone manages to crack open his tough exterior.
He hates it, but mostly he hates how uncomfortable he still feels opening up in Mobius’s presence, even after all this time.
They sit there for a while, just letting the emotions flow freely despite themselves. Mobius wraps his arm around Loki, giving him the solid, warm human contact he desires. It seems to help ground him, and his breathing begins to calm further, the inhales coming in staccatos as he tries to breathe more deeply.
When the tears have stopped pouring from his eyes and the sobs fade into little more than sniffles, Loki finally looks up at Mobius.
The agent is looking at him in a new sort of way, and it’s then that Loki looks down at his hands and realizes he’s unintentionally shifted back to his Jotunn form.
And yet, for some reason, Mobius isn’t running away . He doesn’t seem scared or disgusted. He seems fascinated, and… and that look in his eyes is love, isn't it?
“Loki.” There’s that soft tone again. It makes his heart ache. “You’re so..”
Loki scoffs, his defenses trying to come back up. “What? A freak, perhaps? Are you going to run away like the rest of them?” He doesn’t specify who them is, but Loki knows Mobius is well aware of who he’s referring to.
As soon as those words fall from his lips, he instantly regrets them, because Mobius’s eyes go painfully wide. His arm wraps tighter around Loki. His lips quivers, eyes filling with tears, but not for himself. Never for himself.
Mobius blinks a few times. A tear carves a path down his face. “No.”
“No, no, Loki, never.” His brow creases, and Loki watches in agony as the agent fights back against the emotions filling him.
He cups his cheek, hands so kind and gentle against his blue skin. A luxury no one ever afforded him before. “You’re beautiful. So goddamn beautiful like this. I can’t believe you’re mine, cor meum.”
Loki’s shoulders begin to shake again at the sudden tenderly spoken words, biting his lip, and he whimpers, chin trembling.
“No one, no one ever-” He chokes out, voice trembling. All the rejection, the pain, the hurt and disdain comes spilling out like emotional vomit, all of it falling away from him like a shell being opened because damn it, Mobius thinks he’s beautiful just the way he is. No illusions, no change of form, just himself.
“Oh, mon rayon de soleil, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Mobius soothes, his thumb swiping a stray tear from Loki’s face, “I didn’t want to risk spooking you, but I’ve always wanted to see you, in your most natural state, because you’re beautiful. Always beautiful, no matter what form you take, no matter who you are. You’ll always be a work of art to me. And I know no one’s ever said it to you, but you’re so goshdarn wonderful in every way. If you don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to prove it to you.”
With that, he leans in to kiss Loki. The god quickly wraps his arms around the back of Mobius’s neck, his hand getting a grip in his hair as he frantically pulls him down on top of him.
Making out on a bench is never the most comfortable, but they make it work. Loki keeps one hand slung around Mobius’s neck, the other in his hair, tugging him down and keeping both of them pressed tight together as they kiss. It’s desperate, messy, and not the most coordinated considering their position, but it may as well be the best kiss in the world, and it’s exactly what the both of them want so badly.
When they pull apart, the tears still stain both of their faces, but they’re smiling.
Mobius sits upwards again, wiping his lips before slinging one arm around Loki’s shoulder. The other entwines their hands, squeezing tight.
Loki has never felt more loved, more cherished than he does now, and it feels a little terrifying, feeling a truly genuine way towards someone.
It’s a leap of faith, isn’t it?
The words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them.
“I love you, Mobius.”
Mobius smiles that warm, genuine smile.
“I love you too, Loki.”