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The pair of footsteps pound through the vintage 1890s corridors of the mansion in Timely, Wisconsin.
Loki materializes a pruning stick in green, tossing it at Mobius. Mobius catches it.
“And then…” Mobius puffs, fighting to breathe but still chattering happily. “I worked with the folks in tech to configure the TemPad to send these little messages directly to Bee’s TemPad!!” He tosses one dagger, then another to Loki.
Loki puffs as he runs with Mobius, catching the daggers. “So… you’re telling me… you set up a private link with B-15 to send… what… pen pal messages?”
“Yah!!” Mobius puffs, nearly tripping on a wood board but dodging it. “Morse Code!!”
“*Why?*” Loki marvels. “... when you could just text her?”
“It’s cool!!” Mobius defends.
“It makes no sense!” Loki playfully retaliates, flipping his daggers in his palms as the figure in black they chase suddenly throws a table in their path to stop their tracks. Loki bounces over it, then grabs Mobius’ waist to help him over too. Mobius kisses Loki’s cheek before they start tearing after the figure again. Loki nudges Mobius again. “Why wouldn’t you just text Bee your bets during the World Surf Competitions?”
“You’re hopeless,” Mobius finally shoves him playfully.
In the distance, the figure continues straight before taking a sharp left… because, yes. Loki and Mobius *are* having this conversation while they chase down one of the most dangerous figures in the Multiverse.
“Split up?” Loki puffs.
“Split up,” Mobius agrees, puffing slightly more than Loki. He taps Loki’s shoulder in a quick ‘I love you’ before tearing down the path on the left. Loki continues straight, tracking the Variant in his exact path before tearing down the Variant’s corridor, too.
Vintage clocks line the hallways, filling every corner of the wall space. The deafening C-C-C-C-CLICKS of the mechanic and eerie cuckoo clocks suddenly CLONG in a simultaneous top of the hour. Bronze and chrome birds CUCKOO out at Loki, pecking his clothes with razor-sharp beaks. Loki growls – definitely not expecting to be assaulted by fake fowl today – as he slices them pettily with his daggers and knocks the clocks off the walls. Mobius, the hallway over, simply tugs up a TVA shield, ducking as he runs.
Mobius sees a clearing. He ducks lower behind his shield as he breaks into a battle cry, charging the fresh light.
Hearing Mobius’ battle cry, Loki kicks it into high gear, meeting his battle cry in kind as he tears toward the light at the end of the tunnel. A figure in a prim, 1890s black suit stands at the end of the corridor. Finally…
CRASH!!
Mobius, arriving first, rams into the figure with his iridescent shield like a bull, knocking him to the floor in an OOF. Loki, the matador, throws his daggers, pinning each of the figure’s wrists to the floor. He materializes a new set of daggers to his palms in green. Mobius suddenly tosses Loki the pruning stick. Loki returns with the daggers. Mobius manages to catch one of them. He dives after the second, but then bounces back up like a giddy school child, both daggers in hand. Loki smirks, flipping the pruning stick like a baton before lounging on it like a cane.
“Well done, love,” Loki praises, ruffling Mobius’ hair. “You really got your ‘pummeling’ stance down.”
“I know, right?!” Mobius still bounces. He tries to do a dagger flip like Loki, but the knife clatters to the floor once again. He dives after it sheepishly, then brandishes it ‘threateningly’ at the Variant once more. “A few more lessons, and I’m givin’ *you* a run for your money.”
“We’ll see,” Loki hums with a warm smirk. He rounds gently on Mobius, his hands affectionately cupped on Mobius’ waist, his nose hovering mere inches from Mobius’ as his smile lines crinkle. Mobius giggles before meeting him in the kiss.
“a-HEM!”
Loki and Mobius pull back from their kissing and cooing. They seem only then to remember the horrifying figure on the floor.
The Kang Variant — who does not look unlike a Variant of Tesla – blinks up at them with an unamused expression. “As much fun as it is to be daggered to the floor,” Victor Timely drawls in his deceptively kind glasses. “... I would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase with as little PDA as possible.”
Loki and Mobius blink unamusedly at this Kang Variant, then meet back in a kiss. Loki finally pulls back, raising his hand in a high-five.
“Remember your training?”
Mobius clasps his high-five in an affectionate squeeze. “Be very angry. Burn this place to the ground. A clean throat slice is a safe throat slice.”
Loki thrums with pride. “That’s my husband.” Mobius giggles again as Loki presses a kiss to his temple, then takes a step back. He lets Mobius take the stage.
Mobius rounds his ‘very angry’ eyes on Kang.
Victor Timely simply stares at this kitten with mittens unamusedly.
“Alright,” Mobius drawls, stepping intimidatingly closer to Kang. He squats to eye level, taking in this Kang’s eyes through the shine of the round glasses. Finally, he sits on the floor with him. He offers a hand.
“I’m Agent Mobius, by the way,” Mobius grins. He thumbs behind him. “This is Agent Laufeyson. He’s my beloved...”
“Mobius,” Loki chirps in a chastising scold.
“Right.” Mobius hardens back into his angry eyes. He pushes his daggers toward Kang. “What are you scheming to do with the Sacred Timeline…” the daggers dip toward a propaganda pamphlet in Kang’s pocket, his eyes squinting as he reads: “... ‘Victor.’”
“Better,” Loki nods. Mobius shoots him a look… the slightly peeved look that says: Hey, I got this, hon’. Interrogation is *my* area of expertise.
Loki finally shuts up, taking his intimidating place supportively behind Mobius. Mobius turns back to Kang in his own quiet, intimidating way.
Kang simply takes Mobius in. “You have something I want.”
“Oh yeah?” Mobius drawls with far more confidence than earned. “What’s that, sunshine?”
Victor remains oddly charismatic and magnetizing, even at his supposed weakest. “Your TemPad,” Kang returns simply.
Mobius’ eyes dip to the TemPad at his belt. He frowns. “Why would you need…?”
VWIP!!
Kang disappears in a streak of purple right before their eyes.
CLANG!!
The two entrances to the small wooden room swing shut.
Mobius pushes to his feet, tiptoeing protectively back by Loki. Loki meets him, slinking protectively forward toward Mobius. They blink around the suddenly claustrophobic room, breathing heavily – still having not fully recovered from their run – knives and pruning stick at the ready. Suddenly, the ceiling opens up, revealing a glass surface upon which Kang lazily strolls.
“Ahhh,” Kang clicks his metal heels on the glass, strolling nonchalantly with hands clasped behind his back. “This is more like it.” He winks down at the trapped pair in the enclosure. “You know,” Victor continues. “... the Multiverse *likes* when prey and predators are in a certain hierarchy. Call it… the Natural Order: Mice below cats. Cats below snakes.” He finally stops pacing, rounding to smirk amusedly down at Loki and Mobius. “You below me.”
Loki and Mobius stare defiantly up at him. Kang simply draws a little heart around them on the glass with his shoe.
“Give me your TemPad, Agent Mobius,” Kang says simply.
“Why?” Mobius demands.
“Simple,” Kang flops to sit on the glass. “I need to get into the TVA. Your TemPad has clearance. And you, my good sir, don’t have a choice.”
Just then, the tiny but many vents – which the pair only notices now – suddenly spew hot air by their ankles. The temperature rises noticeably.
“Pfft. Or what…?” Mobius scoffs. “You’ll heat us to death?” Mobius half-laughs at how ridiculous this thought is till he turns to jab Loki in the side. Loki, however, is deathly pale. His chest, in the sudden overwhelming heat, puffs slowly… laboriously.
“Exxxactly,” Kang purrs, rattling like a snake. He inspects his pocket watch nonchalantly. Hm. It is 1893. He thought he was in 1894. No matter. He flicks his gaze back to Mobius. “I’m sure you’ll find watching your *beloved* frost giant husband die while I keep you alive *just enough* to pry the TemPad from your nearly-dead fingers *very* convincing.”
Mobius’ blood runs cold. He glances back at Loki.
Loki, however, is pointedly unfazed. He simply plucks the TemPad from Mobius’ belt. He sets it to the time and place, then opens the Time Door.
The Time Door fizzles out.
Loki grumbles, trying again.
The Time Door glitches out a second time.
Loki shoves the TemPad back into Mobius’ hands, tugging his own TemPad from his belt. He sets the time and place again, only this time…
… the Time Door doesn’t even open.
Loki finally grabs the pruning stick, aiming it to prune Mobius and then himself, only this time…
… it disappears in a sudden flash of purple.
Loki slowly glances up. Victor simply stares down, the pruning stick now destroyed in his hand. He cl-cl-clucks his tongue in faux pity.
“Greatest inventor in all of Time,” Victor reminds him. “Certainly, you don’t think I wouldn’t put a TemPad scrambler on this place, as Other Me did to the Void.”
“... and like what Bee did to the TVA,” Mobius realizes quietly. That is why the Kang Variant needs Mobius’ TemPad.
Kang simply nods. His hand outstretches. “I am not an unreasonable man, Mobius. Type in your code, give me the TemPad, and I *will* let you both go unharmed.”
This clear lie does not help Loki’s mood. He GROWLS, suddenly throwing his TemPad across the room in a fit of rage. It smashes into itty-bitty pieces. He then reaches for Mobius’ TemPad, but Mobius holds it back. He glances unsurely up at Kang once more.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Kang clucks in pity, a ‘merciful’ conquistador watching the locals live in their mysterious, ‘savage’ ways. “You break that…” Kang waves a hand. Mechanical flame throwers appear in every corner of the room. “I kill you both on the spot.”
Mobius’ blood could not possibly run colder in spite of the heat that now visibly makes him sweat. He glances at Loki, fear in his eyes.
“Lok…”
“Don’t give it to him,” Loki instructs calmly, despite the sweat that begins to bead on his pale forehead. He swallows, finally forcing himself to stay cool in a place that is very quickly becoming, in every sense of the word, uncool. “There are refugees, people we care about in the TVA. Don’t do it.” Loki forces himself to smile softly, running a hand on Mobius’ arm. “I’ll be okay.”
Mobius shakes his head. “You won’t.”
“I am very tricky to kill,” Loki reminds him. “Frankly…” he glances up at Kang, raising his voice and hoping it doesn’t shake as much as he feels it shake. “I would LOVE to see him TRY!”
Kang simply shrugs, chomping into an apple. Mobius glances once more back at Loki.
“Lok,” he tries again.
Loki wraps him in a hug, cradling Mobius’ head in his arms. “We’ll figure something out, love. We always do.” Loki’s eyes dip to the daggers that remain in Mobius’ belt. “Remember your training.”
Mobius finally tugs Loki to a corner, sitting him down, loosening his shirt at the collar, and moving to block the vents from shooting hot air on him as much as possible. He finally glares up at Kang.
“You won’t get out of this, you know,” Mobius threatens.
“Neither will you,” Kang returns simply.
CHOMP!
Kang tosses the rest of the wet apple core to the glass ceiling.
—-
Loki’s shirt is all but open now, his head resting on Mobius’ lap. Mobius fans his skin, *tap* *tap* *tap*ing the TemPad nervously in his free hand. Loki’s signature cool skin, which once drove Mobius nuts when Loki leeched heat from him at night, is alarmingly not so cool anymore. What Mobius would give to have Loki’s cool back, cold nights and all.
“I love you,” Loki reminds Mobius softly, snapping Mobius out of his worrying.
Mobius shakes his head, fanning faster. “No goodbyes. We’re getting out of this.”
“I like goodbyes,” Loki hums absentmindedly.
“I don’t.”
“We say the things we’ve been meaning to say,” Loki continues wistfully. “... but are otherwise too afraid to admit.”
“Good god, you’re delusional,” Mobius puffs, his fanning hand still flying back and forth. Loki finally snatches Mobius’ hand, pulling it in for a kiss before leaning up to press a kiss to Mobius’ lips. Mobius cradles Loki’s face like the most precious possession in the Multiverse. A moment of peace. Suddenly, Loki scrunches in pain.
“Where?” Mobius demands urgently.
“My leg,” Loki pants, all but writhing.
Mobius carefully sets him back on the floor. He goes to Loki’s cramped leg, massaging the spasming muscle.
“It hurts,” Loki whines, nearly breathless and momentarily swaying without actually moving. Where is he, again?
“I know,” Mobius clamps and unclamps his muscle till it falls into soft twitches. He massages both of his calves before the other jolts into painful spasming, too.
A small form brushes Mobius. Mobius glances at Loki’s hand on his.
“Love…” Loki rasps.
Mobius takes his hand, rubbing it with his thumb and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“Yah, hon’?”
“Could… you do me a favor?” Loki asks weakly.
Mobius holds back the tears in his eyes. “Anything.”
“Could…”
“Yeah?”
“Could…” Loki tries again, his throat really dry.
“What is it, hon’?” Mobius prods gently, squeezing his hand. “I’ll do it. Just tell me.”
Loki finally runs his tongue over his cracking lips.
“Could you get me some water?” Loki asks.
It is like the daggers and pruning stick that had once belonged to the pair stab into Mobius’ heart all at once. He stares in horror at the person who should know neither of them has water, and should certainly know neither of them is able to get it.
“I…” Mobius gapes.
“Please?” Loki finally begs, nothing left of his voice but a whisper. “... love?”
That’s it. Two fat tears wad and then tumble down Mobius’ cheeks. He thumbs his TemPad, turning his now truly angry eyes up to the ceiling.
Kang sits on his throne expectantly, a set of Newton Balls click-click-clicking in front of him to the beat of a clock.
Time is running out.
Mobius balls his fists… his hand tugging the TemPad from his belt.
—-
“You,” Mobius gets to his feet, unraveling from Loki and stomping to where Kang watches them from the ceiling. “You want my TemPad?” Mobius slides the TemPad across the floor toward the door. “Fine. Ya can have it. Unlocked. Security clearances authorized. Ready for use. You win. Let us go.”
Loki suddenly shifts behind Mobius. “N…o,” his weak voice calls from the corner, the unbearable hot air now blowing directly on his form in Mobius’ absence. Mobius pointedly ignores Loki’s voice and his own tugging heart. He glares up at the Space Lizard.
Kang simply coils in a smile. He slides his glasses up his nose, then, in a blink, he disappears from his seat on the throne. A moment more, and the door pops open. Kang steps inside, the deliciously cold air swooping in with him as he stoops to the TemPad. He watches Mobius carefully.
“No…” Loki warns weakly from the corner again, dragging himself in vain toward Mobius. Mobius keeps his gaze pointedly on Kang.
“You sure?” Kang asks.
Mobius nods coldly, his heart officially tugged in two.
“Damn,” Kang finally scoops the TemPad. “I really wanted to kill you two after all that PDA. Shame.”
“We can go now?” Mobius breathes, stepping back toward Loki. He meets him on the ground, cradling Loki’s head as Loki shakes it vehemently, still trying to get Mobius to back out. Loki suddenly retches a little in his mouth. Eugh. Gross. Too much movement. Not enough active brain cells. Aw… worse, he threw up Mobius’ little grilled cheese he had made him for lunch. Not Mobius’ grilled cheese…!!
Mobius clenches around him nervously, his defiant eyes still glaring at Kang.
“Very well,” Kang sighs, tossing the TemPad nonchalantly in the air before catching it. He gestures toward the door. “You may go.”
With that, Kang spins on his heel again, teleporting out of existence.
The cool, open door gapes.
—-
Mobius glares suspiciously at Victor’s now empty spot, then turns to fluster over Loki. He fans him quickly, then works to shift Loki’s slick, clammy form into his own sweaty, exhausted arms. With a grunt and a knee-up, Mobius finally pulls them both standing.
Dammit, why does Loki have to be so heavy??
Mobius grunts in protest but finally heaves him to the exit. One more step and they are…
SLAM!!
The door slams shut. Mobius shoots his gaze to the ceiling.
Kang appears in a whiff of purple. He fiddles with the TemPad nonchalantly.
“On second thought,” Kang hums. “I can’t let you leave. Now you know my hiding space, and frankly, it would be a shame to leave such an aptly named town as Timely. So…” Kang gets the setting he wants on the TemPad, celebrating in a momentary ‘a-ha!’ before wiggling his fingers in a goodbye. “Toodles.”
With that, Kang steps through the Time Door.
Mobius’ gaze drops to the floor, his knees with it. Slowly, he collapses to the ground, finally letting Loki rest back on the floor, Loki’s head cradled in Mobius’ lap.
“You shouldn’t…” Loki pants, his voice dying out, his eyes barely conscious. “You shouldn’t have…”
Mobius just hugs him in a kiss, his lips pressed to the top of Loki’s head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
A moment of peace.
“I love you,” Mobius reminds Loki.
Loki shakes his head against Mobius’ arm. “No goodbyes…”
But… Mobius just meets him in a kiss.
“I… love the way you smile,” Mobius whispers, combing his fingers through Loki’s hair. “I love the way your eyes sparkle when you see the stars, and the way you bounce on your heels when you’re excited, and the way your little nose crinkles every time something mildly pisses you off.” Mobius runs a pinkie over Loki’s nose. On cue, Loki wrinkles it. Mobius chuckles tearfully, combing Loki’s sweaty hair away from his face before pressing his forehead to Loki’s.
“Mobius…” Loki whispers, his breath stolen for a very different reason now as his weak fingers curl in Mobius’ hair.
“Shh. I ain’t done yet,” Mobius continues stubbornly. “I love how you light up when you find fresh roses in the garden... and I love that you light up in the exact same way when you play a prank on Casey, or Sylvie, or Bee, or me, or even the dog.”
“Love…” Loki whispers.
“And,” Mobius powers over him. “Above all, I love that you chose me. Ya coulda had anyone in the Multiverse, you beautiful, stubborn-ass god, and ya chose me. I don’t know why, but you did, and I cannot possibly love you more for it.”
Tears bead in Loki’s eyes.
“I am the luckiest man in all of Time, and don’t you forget it,” Mobius continues. “You are a dream come true on our good *and* bad days, a soulmate, but above all, you,” Mobius bounces his finger on Loki’s chest. “You have been, and always will be, my best friend.”
A thin tear bubbles before leaking down Loki’s cheek. He sniffles, scrubbing his fingers through the spot behind Mobius’ ear he so adores in lieu of painful words that will not come. He presses his forehead to Mobius’ chest.
“So… yah,” Mobius finishes. “If this is the last thing you ever hear in your entire life, I know it will not be enough, and that it could never be enough for someone as special as you, but I hope you hear it, and you take it, as it is all I have.” Mobius sucks a breath, squeezing his gold ring against Loki’s matching one in his hand. “I love *you*, Loki Laufeyson.”
A small whimper sounds in the back of Loki’s throat. Too weak to move his own head now, Loki instead tugs Mobius’ face gently toward his. There, he kisses him, then kisses him again, his unnaturally hot, cracked lips meeting Mobius’ warm, moist ones. Slowly, his head droops back on Mobius’ lap, it being very difficult to stay awake now. Mobius just blows on his face, a last-ditch effort to cool him.
Mobius finally glances his tearful, weakening eyes skyward to where Kang had been, hardening in defiance. Any minute. Any minute now. Come on.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Not a damn thing.
Finally…
VWIP!!
A Time Door opens.
WAH!!
A figure in black shoots through.
Oof!!
The figure lands on their rump on the ceiling.
*Victor* lands on his rump on the ceiling.
Victor turns his angry, seething eyes with his slightly skewed glasses to glare at Mobius. Mobius simply holds his glare.
“You…” Kang growls.
“I told ya you wouldn’t get outta this,” Mobius maintains calmly.
“YOU!!” Kang erupts, stomping dangerously toward Mobius. However…
VWIP!!
VWIP, VWIP, VWIP!!
Time Doors open left and right. Armored figures with pruning sticks step out. At their forefront:
B-15.
“Bee!” Mobius calls.
B-15 glances at Mobius below her in the trap. She flicks a lazy salute.
“Nice message,” B-15 returns. “You could’ve texted me, though.” With that, she flicks her pruning stick long, she and her fellow troops advancing on Kang. A grenade of sorts flies from the troops. The wooden and now extremely hot building ignites in flame like a match falling on gasoline. The effect is immediate, Kang retreating quickly, a knife slicing across the throat of his entire operation.
*Message…* Loki’s mind slurs. *What message…?*
But… Mobius’ arms feel so safe, and Loki feels so, so tired, and as his weary eyes watch Kang finally disappear in a spiral of purple…
He loses any inkling of why he still needs to be awake to protect Mobius.
Loki slides into sleep.
—-
Brrr… Loki’s spine jolts.
BRR!! Loki’s spine jolts again… even though, somehow, the cold feels delicious against his still-hot skin.
Loki’s eyes peel weakly open. He peers curiously at the edge of the tub.
“Hi,” Loki croaks.
Mobius perks his head up from where it had rested against the tubside.
“Hi,” Mobius returns just as hoarse.
Loki frowns. He realizes then he is fully submerged in cold water. It is as if Mobius had stumbled inside their bathroom -- their home in a distant Timeline -- and dumped Loki fully clothed in the cold tub… then fell from the exhaustion and steadied *his* head against said tub. Loki reaches out a hand. He thumbs Mobius’ hot, tired cheek.
“You’re overheated,” Loki notices sadly.
Mobius barks a laugh. “You’re one to talk, ya big popsicle puddle.”
A grin curls the corner of Loki’s lips. Mobius suddenly seems to remember something. He sucks a sip from a plastic, TVA-issue water bottle, then pushes it toward Loki’s lips.
“Small sips,” Mobius instructs. “Drink.”
Loki’s jaw hardens pettily at Mobius’ mothering. “I’m not thirst… mmph!!”
Mobius smushes the water bottle to Loki’s lips. Not realizing how dehydrated he’d been, Loki suddenly gulps and gulps. When the water is finished, he fills the bottle with cold tub water, pressing it to his forehead and closing his eyes. Mobius just watches him gently, his warm chin still pressing against the cool of the tub.
“What message?” Loki suddenly peeks an eye open at Mobius.
“Huh?”
“Message!” Loki insists. “Bee said she got a message. What message??”
Mobius suddenly blushes beyond the flush his skin is already turned to. “It was nothin’.”
“It was too something!” Loki persists. “What message?! How did you get us out of there?”
Mobius humbly brushes off his proddings, then finally lets it slide, along with his smirk.
“So Kang wanted my TemPad so he could get in and take over the TVA…” Mobius starts.
“Yes?”
Mobius smirks broader. “Ya know how you called my little Pen Pal/Morse Code thing with Bee stupid?”
“Oh no…” Loki anticipates where this is going.
“Yup,” Mobius grins broadly now. “The moment Kang stepped through that door is the moment Bee and every other Hunter in the TVA would get the message of where, when, and how to attack… with a constant trace on my TemPad, too.”
“You devil,” Loki mutters in gentle shock.
“What?” Mobius defends innocently, blushing slyly. “You were the one who said: ‘Be very angry. Burn his place to the ground. A clean throat slice is a safe throat slice.’ Once I had a reason to *be* very angry, the other two kinda just slid into place.”
Loki sits in his gentle awe and shock a moment more, then snaps out of it, smacking Mobius in the arm. “You DEVIL!! C’mere!!”
Mobius yaps laughter as Loki’s wet knuckle rubs and messes up his hair. Mobius grins as Loki holds him, relishing the fact Loki feels cool against his skin once more.
There’s his beautiful ice popsicle again.
Loki drifts happily in the moment, his eyes gently closed and resting against Mobius’ very hot form, when suddenly his eyes snap open.
“Mobius,” Loki blinks.
“Hm?” Mobius slurs, wishing Loki’s cool would snuggle up against him like that again. His head hurts very, very much.
“If…” Loki starts. “... you knew help was on the way, why did you say goodbye?” Loki frowns. “I thought you hated goodbyes.”
Mobius suddenly perks up from his drifting, having a reason to anchor back to the moment. “Well, you said you liked goodbyes,” Mobius mumbles simply, doing his best not to slur. “... because they let us say to the other person what we normally wouldn’t say but wish we could.”
Loki blinks. “S…o?”
“So,” Mobius continues happily, ignoring the subtle pounding in his head. “I figured, why do I need to wait for a ‘goodbye’ to tell ya how embarrassingly much I love you when I could just tell ya now?”
Loki blinks, then practically melts in a wholly different way from the fatal method before. That’s it. He tugs Mobius affectionately toward the tub. “Come on.”
Mobius huffs a small laugh as he shakes his head, palming his tired face. “I’m okay.”
“You’re burnt up worse than me, now,” Loki stubbornly presses the back of his hand to Mobius’ forehead. “Come. Here.”
“There’s not enough room. I’m still in my clothes…” Mobius finds every excuse. “My boots…”
“... will be soaked just like mine,” Loki kicks his worn combat boots above the surface, water sloshing from his ankles. “... but will be magicked better in two to ten minutes, with the rest of your clothes once you are properly cooled. Now get in here, Mobius Mobius Mobius, before I make you.”
Mobius chuckles. “Pushy,” he teases before finally clambering into the tub with Loki. Loki scooches to let Mobius’ squeaky boot slide in the tub before Mobius does a controlled fall into Loki’s lap. Loki turns on the tub with fresh, cold water, scooching to dip Mobius’ head in the flow. Mobius lets Loki take care of him, his eyes drifting closed as a much-needed shiver shoots up his spine. Loki combs his cool fingers in Mobius’ short, silver hair, his hands leeching the excess heat into his fingertips. Slowly, Mobius breathes a relieved sigh, nuzzling the back of his head on Loki’s shoulder as Loki cradles him.
Loki presses a kiss to the top of Mobius’ head.
“I love you,” Loki reminds him. He thinks about what he would say for a goodbye… everything he could ever possibly want to say to the person who means so much, everything Mobius would ever need to know. Where does he even begin?
He’ll start, he supposes, with Mobius’ hair.
“I love the way you use gel to spike your hair up,” Loki says gently. “It makes you immediately more stylish than any other silver-head out there.”
Mobius puffs a laugh, his eyes still closed. Loki thinks again. “I also love the way your hair rebels in the morning. It has a stubborn mind of its own like its owner, and if you left it tousled and cow-licked every morning, I would love it just the same, if not more. I love the way your arms swing when you get passionate about something really, really lame but really, really important to you so that I get excited too. I love the way you look at the mundane yet new-to-you things you encounter – things outside the TVA, Morse Code, human inventions, chicken nuggets – with the utmost enthusiasm and grace… sometimes even if it's just a coin I glued to the sidewalk and didn’t tell you about. I love how you can say ‘I love you’ in a million different ways, and still somehow find new ways to pleasantly surprise me, the literal God of Mischief. I love that you are my rock, my stability, my home, my source of sanity. I love…”
Loki continues passionately and holds him close as Mobius listens gently, his eyes falling closed with a soft smile playing on his lips, his arms wrapped around Loki’s as Loki holds his midsection. The headache slowly fades to the back of his mind as the burning heat leaches from his body. As Loki finishes, Mobius listens carefully – extra carefully – vowing to commit every word Loki says to lifelong memory.
“... I love *you,* Mobius,” Loki finishes, squeezing the precious soul wrapped safely in his arms.
Mobius finally twists in the embrace, nuzzling his chin in Loki’s soggy shirt near his collarbone.
“I love you, too,” Mobius returns softly.
Loki tugs Mobius affectionately closer. Mobius snuggles around him, holding him close.
What the hel. Tempus fugit.
They press into a kiss.