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It’s maddening, really – the way they dance around each other. Loki has never been so frustrated in his life, sexually or otherwise. He can’t even really figure out what exactly it is that he sees in Mobius; he’s mortal, a TVA agent of all things, and honestly kind of boring. But then, there’s something about the way he smiles at him, a sort of special smile that seems reserved entirely for Loki that makes him melt on the inside. He’s patient, kind, and understanding yet far from gullible, with a mischievous streak of his own that could easily give Loki a run for his money. If he has to put words to it, Loki simply enjoys his company – despite the fact that he should probably consider Mobius an enemy. He is, after all, at his mercy. At least he finally took the damned collar off.
Loki isn’t sure how long he’s been at the TVA, but the time (days? Weeks? Months?) all seems to bleed together. It could be centuries for all he knows, maybe even only a few hours, not that it matters. Either way, he and Mobius are in the lounge, taking a break from trawling through the mountain of files on Loki variants, sharing a plate of cookies, when it happens. They both reach for the cookies at the same time and their fingers brush against each other. Mobius doesn’t seem to notice, but something just sort of clicks in Loki’s mind. His breath catches in his throat as he glances at Mobius, who isn’t paying him any mind as he dips his cookie in his coffee. Was his hair always such a pretty shade of silver? Were his eyes always such a lovely blue? Would his mustache tickle if he kissed him? Loki shakes his head. Norns, where did that come from? He quickly grabs his own coffee and swallows half of it when Mobius looks up, as if he knows what’s going through Loki’s mind.
He’s doing it on purpose, Loki thinks, he must be. It seems like they’re constantly touching – standing too close in the library aisles so that they brush against each other when they move, touching each other’s hands when passing a file, or bumping their legs together under the table they’re working at. Mobius doesn’t seem like a tactile person, not with any of the others whose path they’ve crossed. No, it seems like only Loki who is always two steps too deep into his personal space. Mobius obviously doesn’t mind, though. He would have said something by now. Loki isn’t sure how much more of it he can take, so he decides that if he’s going to be forced to do paperwork until the TVA inevitably vaporizes him, he might as well have a little fun while he can.
He starts small, with little things like standing too close in the elevator, and stealing bits of food from Mobius’ plate at meal times. The latter is especially fun, and well worth it for the irritated glares it earns him. Getting under Mobius’ skin is a lot harder than he imagined. He has this sort of unshakable calm about him, and always seems to expect the unexpected. Or, he’s completely oblivious , but that Loki highly doubts. When he figures out that he is getting nowhere, Loki steps up his game – adjusting Mobius’ tie if it’s crooked, resting his hand on his shoulder as he stands behind him reading a file, and sitting beside him while they work instead of across, so that their thighs touch. None of it seems to have any effect at all on Mobius, and it’s driving him insane.
Subtlety, Loki rationalizes, is no good on the TVA agent. He’s just going to have to kiss him. The first attempt is in the hall outside the lounge. No one is around so Loki ‘trips’ on the edge of a carpet, falling against Mobius’ chest. Their eyes meet, and Mobius raises an eyebrow when Loki doesn’t immediately right himself. He closes his eyes and leans for the kiss, just as Mobius shoves him away and he actually does lose his footing and face-plants into the wall.
“Damn it all,” Loki complains, and hurries to catch up with Mobius. At least no one else saw the particularly humiliating display, except maybe a lucky security guard watching the cameras.
The second attempt is in the elevator. He lets the back of his hand brush against Mobius’ while standing far too close. Again, he gives Loki a questioning sort of look. There’s maybe five inches of space between them, and he nearly closes the gap, but Mobius turns away as the doors open. Loki kicks the wall on the way out, rolling his eyes so hard he wonders if they can get stuck in the back of his skull.
The third attempt is in the library. He’s sitting next to Mobius again, their thighs pressed against each other so that he can feel his warmth. Loki slips his hand under the table and rests it on his thigh, so the edge of it is touching Mobius. He sees him startle slightly, and hears the hitch in his breath, but Mobius ignores him as resolutely as ever. Loki leans a little closer, making a show of reaching across the space in front of Mobius for a file on his opposite side. Mobius snatches it, and shoves it in his hand before he can get close enough.
“Loki, take that file to Casey and see if he still has the personal items seized from that variant,” Mobius tells him; Loki can’t detect any sign of emotion in his voice.
He’s screaming on the inside as he gets up and heads for the elevator. Once inside, he bangs his head on the wall and lets out a litany of positively foul Asgardian cursing that would make Thor blush. Somehow, he composes himself as he steps out of the elevator on the Analytics floor. He finds Casey’s desk (cubicle?) and slams the file down on it, making him jump and nearly fall out of his well-worn leather chair.
“Y-Yes?” Casey stammers.
“Do you have the personal effects from that case?” Loki asks, feeling a little bad for taking his frustration out on Casey.
He picks the file up and reads over it quickly before shaking his head and returning it to Loki. “No, sorry. The gold bracelet was in the cart that got pruned when you tried to escape.”
“Right. Thank you,” Loki says a lot more bitterly than he meant to.
“Hey, you and Mobius are dating, right?” Casey asks cautiously.
“…What?”
“I mean, everyone’s talking about it, and you’re always so close to each other so…”
“Norns…” Loki wants to die. Stop talking, he thinks desperately as he notices the others all turning to look at him.
“I know it’s not really my business, but, does his mustache tickle when you kiss him? Because it looks like – ”
Loki can’t help it, he screams like a feral beast as he stomps all the way to the elevator and throws the file at Casey’s head. Against all odds, he ducks and it thumps harmlessly against the wall behind him. Loki ignores the irritated glares from all the other analysts as he kicks the chair out from under one of them, before slamming the button for the elevator so hard he’s sure it bruised his hand. Really though, Casey doesn’t even know what a fish is, yet he has it in him to wonder if Mobius’ mustache tickles. He screams again once he’s alone inside the elevator, and lets his head fall back against the wall as he struggles to regain his composure. He fails, completely.
Mobius is standing by the table when he comes back. He looks up as Loki walks right up to him, grabs him by the lapels of his coat, and all but throws him against a bookshelf as he he takes his lips in a ferocious kiss. Mobius gasps, but doesn’t push him away, melting into the kiss instead as he twists his fingers into Loki’s hair. His mustache does tickle.
“Wow,” Mobius whispers, when they separate out of pure need for air.
“Shh!” A librarian admonishes them, and glares pointedly a bunch of books that fell from the shelf when Loki pushed Mobius into it.
“Sorry,” Loki says sheepishly and gives her his very best obnoxious smirk.
“Oh please, you aren’t sorry,” Mobius chastises him. “Anyway, that was fun. It took you longer to snap than I thought it would.”
“You son of a – ARGH!” Loki growls and slumps over at the table, scattering files everywhere. “I knew you were doing it on purpose.”
“So were you.”
“Guilty,” Loki admits with a shrug.
“Shall we take a break?” Mobius winks. “I want you to show me what that silver tongue of yours is really good for,” He adds in a whisper, and half drags Loki out of the library.