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Something’s wrong. Loki knows there is. Mobius was supposed to meet him over an hour ago to go over their plan for the day, but he’s yet to appear. Which isn’t like him. At all. He’s usually the first one here, in fact. Which only adds to Loki’s worry.
Loki frowns at the doorway, debating on waiting longer or setting off in search of Mobius himself. He’s just made up his mind and stood from his seat when Casey walks in. Maybe he has some idea of what’s delayed Mobius this morning.
“Casey,” Loki says, walking up to the man’s desk. “Have you heard from Mobius today?”
Casey shakes his head. “No, but I saw B-15 earlier, and she said he was sick.”
“Sick?” Loki questions.
Casey nods. “Yeah. Some sort of cold or something. She said she had to force him to go and stay in his quarters.”
Well, that just won’t do. It’s bad enough that Mobius isn’t feeling well. He shouldn’t be confined to his room alone.
“I’ll be going out for a bit,” Loki tells him. “To grab some things for Mobius.”
Casey shrugs. “Alright. But if anything happens, I don't know anything.”
“Of course,” Loki says.
Mind made up, Loki pulls out his TemPad and sets out to find what he needs for Mobius.
Loki returns what feels like hours later with his arms full of bags. He navigates the halls of the TVA until he finds himself outside of Mobius’ quarters. He shifts the bags in his arms to free his hand so he can knock, hoping Mobius is awake and able to hear him.
It’s not long before Mobius peeks out the door at him, face pinched in a frown. “Loki?”
“I heard you weren’t feeling well,” Loki says. “So I brought you a few things.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Mobius says, but he steps back to let Loki in. “It’s just a cold. I think. I actually can’t remember ever having a cold.”
“Probably for the best,” Loki says. “I’ve heard they’re not the most pleasant. But not quite as debilitating and deadly as the flu.”
Mobius’ eyes widen. “What if it is the flu?”
“I don’t think it is,” Loki tells him. He looks him over. His face is slightly flushed, his hair a mess, and his nose red. But he doesn’t look sick. At least not as bad as Loki had been imagining it.
At least until Mobius starts to cough. Loki winces when he puts a hand to his chest and groans. “I hate this.”
“I have something that might help,” Loki says. He digs through the bags he placed on the table until he finds what he’s looking for. “Cough medicine.”
“Oh my god,” Mobius says, taking it from him with greedy hands. “You’re my hero.”
“It’s just cough medicine,” Loki tells him.
“But the cough has been the worst part,” Mobius says. He measures out the correct amount carefully before downing the cup. He grimaces and puts the empty cup down. “Disgusting. It better work.”
“The woman at the pharmacy assured me this was the best,” Loki says.
“You really put some thought into this, huh?” Mobius asks him. He peers into the rest of the bags curiously.
“I wanted to help make you feel better,” Loki says. “There’s soup in there that should still be warm. Some Kleenex and tea with honey. And…”
“A card?” Mobius says. He holds up the envelope with a smile. “Did you get me a card?”
“The woman said it might help to receive something heartfelt,” Loki says.
“I see,” Mobius says.
Loki clears his throat as Mobius slides a finger along the seam of the envelope to open it. “You don’t have to do that while I’m here.”
“No, but I want to,” Mobius says. “So I can thank you properly.”
He opens the card, his eyes scanning the words inside. In the middle is some generic message telling him to get well soon. Loki had also added a few words of his own at the woman’s insistence. It hadn’t seemed a big deal at the time. But now, with Mobius’ eyes carefully reading the words, he wonders if maybe it had been too much.
“Mobius, I’m sorry to hear you’re not feeling well. I hope these small gifts can bring some brightness to your day and help you on your path to recovery. Love, Loki.”
Mobius looks up at him, his eyes scanning Loki’s face. “This is nice, Loki. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“There is just one thing I’m curious about,” Mobius says, stepping closer.
“What’s that?” Loki asks him.
“The way you signed the card,” Mobius says.
“With my name?” Loki questions. “Isn’t that customary?”
“No, not that,” Mobius says. “Love, Loki.”
Right. Loki had debated on that for a while. He’d almost written something like sincerely or all the best, but that had seemed impersonal. Aloof, even. Not something he wanted to be with Mobius. And, well, what he wrote isn’t exactly untrue. But it’s also not something he’s expressed to Mobius before.
“Is there something wrong with that?” Loki asks him.
Mobius shakes his head. “No, of course not. I guess I’m just wondering…”
“What?”
“If you meant it,” Mobius says.
“And if I did?”
“Well, I would say maybe you could have said it to me out loud and, you know, not in a card first,” Mobius says.
“Do you want me to say it, Mobius?” Loki says.
Mobius smiles and rubs his neck. A nervous habit Loki’s come to notice. “Yeah, I do.”
Loki takes his face in his hands, his eyes searching his. “And you’re sure you’re not delirious from the cough medicine?”
“I just took it, Loki,” Mobius says. “It won’t affect me that fast.”
“I just need to be sure,” Loki says. “I need you to be sure.”
“I am,” Mobius says. “Trust me.”
“With my life,” Loki says. He takes a deep breath and looks into those blue eyes he’s come to know better than almost anyone else’s. Blue eyes that look at him with such open affection that it makes his chest ache. “I love you, Mobius.”
Mobius smiles. “I love you, Loki.”
Loki returns the smile and kisses his forehead. Mobius pouts up at him. “That’s all?”
“You are still sick,” Loki says.
Mobius sighs. “ Fine . We can wait until I’m better. But for the record, I thought Gods couldn’t get sick.”
“We can’t,” Loki says. “But as you know, things work differently inside the TVA.”
“True,” Mobius says. “Probably for the best. You would be insufferable if you caught a cold.”
“I would not,” Loki says. “I would be the ideal patient.”
Mobius snorts. “You? Really?”
Loki opens his mouth to argue when a thought occurs to him. He narrows his eyes. “Are you trying to goad me into kissing you?”
“I would never,” Mobius says. “Whatever you do has to be of your own free will.”
“Right.” Loki shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You should eat your soup before it gets cold.”
Mobius takes the bowl Loki offers him and sits down at the table. Loki frowns when his body shakes as a shiver runs through him. Maybe he is sicker than Loki initially realized. He grabs the blanket off the couch and wraps it around Mobius’ shoulders.
Mobius smiles up at him and leans into his side. “You’re warm.”
“So are you,” Loki says, resting a hand on his forehead.
Mobius frowns. “Sure don’t feel like it.”
“It’s the cold,” Loki says. “But it’ll pass soon enough. Eat your soup. It should help warm you up. And then we’ll get you in bed.”
“Will you stay?” Mobius asks him. “Or are you too afraid of getting sick?”
Looking down at Mobius, Loki knows there’s not a thing he could deny him. Not that he’s going to voice that out loud. At least not yet. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Giving into the temptation, he leans down and kisses Mobius softly before pulling back. “You’re worth the risk.”