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Loki had an obsession. He’d realized it after being told off by Sylvie for daydreaming on-shift one too many times. Sure, it was normal to be attracted to your partner, but he could not stop thinking about Mobius.
His face, obviously. The twinkles in his eyes, the crookedness of his broken nose, the way his laugh lines were exaggerated whenever he smiled… everything about the man made Loki want to get on his knees and worship.
The specifics of his obsession, however, strayed lower— his belly. After his discovery in the bookstore those months ago, it was Loki’s singular thought. He wanted to touch it, to kiss it, to— well. He wanted a lot. He wanted all of Mobius.
But for some unknowable reason, Mobius didn’t see it.
Every time Loki went to touch, went to feel, went to kiss, he’d be met with nervous eyes and nervous touch, hands gently moving him away from the swell of stomach with a sad chuckle. Loki felt as if he was having withdrawal from a drug he’d never gotten to taste.
Loki was used to wanting, sure. He’d been nothing but pure want for forty-something years of his life, up until Mobius showed up on opening day and asked for the special. So, while Loki was used to wanting, he wasn’t used to wanting with Mobius.
A tiny, angry part of his brain tried to darken his thoughts, tried to tell him that he didn’t deserve Mobius, that the touch was a step too far, too intimate, too much. The much more logical part of his brain kicked those ideas away. It’s not about me, it’s about his insecurities.
That train of thought was sad, too, because the idea that someone as absolutely lovely as Mobius was unhappy with his body was devastating. And so, one evening when Mobius was sitting at his usual table under the MORNING DRUG sign, Loki decided he wouldn’t have Mobius’s self-doubts plaguing the love of his life anymore.
The only issue was figuring out how to get his boyfriend to let his walls down that far. His first idea was going to Sylvie for help, but that turned into 2 weeks of embarrassing teases about “big sister Sylvie” and her supposed superior relationship knowledge (which, Loki resented— they had roughly the same experience as far as relationships went.) So, that was off the table.
Turns out all it took was a movie night, in the end, Mobius lying on top of him, a comforting warmth weighing him down like a blanket. Mobius had been extra flirty all day, so it wasn’t a shock when the older man’s gentle touches turned something less innocent. However, Loki had a goal; he wouldn’t cave until Mobius let him care for him. Properly.
So, as Mobius attempted to instigate him into heated kisses, Loki kept them slow and saccharine. He used his hands to trace mindless patterns into his partner’s back, moving them to massage the knots in his neck as well. Mobius groaned, sagging a bit as Loki worked through the tense muscles until his partner was boneless in his lap.
“You’re too good at that,” he sighed, trailing his hands along Loki’s sides.
Loki hummed at him, migrating his touches from his neck slowly, slowly down, resting his hands on the older man’s hips, pressing his thumbs in and kneading in firm circles. Mobius huffed out a breath, moving his head off Loki’s chest to meet his eyes.
“What’s going on, Loki?”
In lieu of a response, Loki slid his hands from Mobius’s hips to his stomach, sighing a little as he felt the soft flesh there. Mobius inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to say something, undoubtedly self-deprecating, and Loki couldn’t handle it anymore. He leaned up and kissed Mobius hard, hoping to convey just how much he felt. The surprise of the unexpected kiss halted Mobius’s movement to remove Loki’s hands from his belly, and instead his hands found their way to the back of Loki’s head, gripping his hair as the kiss deepened.
When they broke apart, Mobius searched Loki’s face, confusion practically radiating from him. Loki kept touching his belly, squeezing and rubbing and touching, determined to get his fill of the thing he’d been so cruelly denied for so long.
“Loki, I’m—”
“You are the most attractive person I have ever met.”
That sentence stunned Mobius into silence, his eyes widening as a blush heated his face prettily.
“Gorgeous,” Loki murmured, extracting one hand from the head of Mobius’s midsection in favor of cupping his lover’s face, swiping a thumb over the reddened skin.
Swallowing, Mobius’s hands, which were tangled in Loki’s hair, tightened their grip minutely.
“Surely that’s not—”
“No,” Loki interrupted, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the man on top of him. “No, Mobius, please. Let me show you. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”
The blush deepened, and Loki’s heart both ached and felt as if it was overflowing with unbridled affection. Had no one told this man how absolutely perfect he was?
“Uh, no,” Mobius laughed, voice sounding wet and shaky, and Loki realized he said it out loud. “Can’t uh— say that they have.”
Unable to convey how much that made him feel with words, Loki surged forward and kissed Mobius again and again and again, hoping that it got the message across; the anger he felt that Mobius hadn’t been treated well before, the affection he felt for this incredible man, everything.
He slid his hand back down so he had both back on Mobius’s belly, and he made a soft sound when Mobius didn’t make any moves to dislodge him, instead tightening the grip on his hair. Loki broke away first, gasping for air and he fixed Mobius with a heated stare.
“Let me love you.”
Mobius stared back, blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, and he nodded. Loki jumped into action, shifting them to reverse their positions and lowering himself to be face-level with his object of fascination. Tugging up Mobius’s shirt, Loki immediately pressed his mouth to the swell of flesh, kissing and licking, reveling in the small moans of appreciation from the man underneath him.
“Beautiful. Mobius, you’re riveting.”
His partner just moaned in response, gripping Loki’s hair sharply.
“I’m— ah— not so sure what brought this on, but I’m— hng— not complaining,” Mobius grit, shifting his hips as his arousal became more apparent.
Loki didn’t say anything in response, too focused on ravishing the man he called his own. He sucked bruises into the soft skin, scraping his teeth along the flesh as he continued massaging circles into his sides. He moved his attention up for a moment, mouthing at Mobius’s nipples, licking up his chest, all while keeping his hands on that lovely belly.
The sounds he received in response only further fueled his fire, and he figured that he could spend the rest of his life like this.
—
Later, when they were both sated and cleaned off, lying on Mobius’s bed, Loki still wouldn’t stop giving attention to his stomach.
“So,” Mobius drawled, reaching up to hold Loki’s face. “Want to share what that was about?”
Raising a singular eyebrow (something Mobius had never quite mastered), the man shot him an incredulous look.
“You’re the one who’s been nothing short of insatiable all day, may I remind you,” he responded, a deflection that Mobius caught on to immediately. Despite that, the truth of his statement made a bit of heat rise to his cheeks, averting his eyes from Loki’s piercing gaze for a moment.
“… Sylvie told me you were obsessed with me.”
Drawing in a sharp breath, Loki’s hands flexed for a moment, squeezing the soft flesh of Mobius’s belly.
“Did she now?” he replied eventually, voice strained. When Mobius moved his gaze back to where Loki’s had been previously, he found his partner’s eyes turned resolutely towards the ceiling, a pretty flush steadily growing there.
“Yeah. Said you’d been daydreaming on your shifts. So I,” he swallowed, clearing his throat. “I thought I’d, you know. Help her out.”
“…help her out,” Loki echoed, sounding equally amused and embarrassed.
There was a slightly awkward silence for a moment, both men acutely aware of every point of contact they were making.
“You, ah, really like the ol’ tummy, huh?” Mobius said eventually, forcing a chuckle, not realizing that his grip on Loki’s shirt was tightening.
Loki snapped his eyes back to Mobius’s instantly, something burning in the depths of his gaze as if he’d been waiting for an opportunity. Belatedly, he realized: maybe he had.
“Mobius, you don’t understand the full extent of my attraction to you, do you?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question, not really. It was a statement, and Mobius wanted to disagree, but—
“Sometimes I don’t get it,” he confessed. “I mean, you’re— you’re so—” he gestured up and down Loki’s body, not knowing how to fully explain himself. “You’re you, and I’m literally a stereotypical office-dweller.”
“Mobius,” Loki said, and it was so achingly soft that Mobius had to fight the urge to squirm, to hide from the obvious care this man was showing him. “Mobius, I said it before, but… you’re amazing. I love every part of you. And yeah, maybe…” he flicked his eyes away for a moment, the blush that had been fading away reappearing tenfold. “Maybe I’ve got a fixation on, er, certain aspects of you—”
“‘Fixation?’”
Loki scoffed, ahem-ing as his eyes went anywhere but Mobius’s face.
“My point,” he began again, still refusing to look directly at his boyfriend, “Is that I love your body. And I wish you did too.”
Suddenly choked up, Mobius had to fight the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. He sat with the information for a moment, letting it seep into his heart before taking a deep breath.
“Okay,” he murmured, raising a hand to gently scratch Loki’s scalp. “I’ll— I’ll work on it.”
Loki sat up so quick it caused Mobius to accidentally snag a knot, tugging Loki’s hair.
“Shoot, sorry—”
“You will?”
Meeting Loki’s eyes, he saw nothing but heart-wrenching optimism, and it dawned on him just how much this was affecting his partner. But then, as he thought about it, he realized he’d probably feel the same way; he would have no idea how to cope with the knowledge that Loki was unhappy with his body, were that the case— the man was absolutely stunning. Maybe, Mobius thought, that’s how he thinks of me…?
Breathlessly, Mobius pulled Loki in for a kiss, tender and full of all the love he could muster.
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
—
Bonus Epilogue:
—
“I regret telling him anything, honestly,” Sylvie says in faux disgust, eying Loki and Mobius with poorly-disguised fondness.
Loki was currently on his break, sitting at the milk bar with Mobius at his side. Not unusual by any stretch of the imagination. However, their newest relationship breakthrough that she helped them with has resulted in constant touchiness on her barista’s part.
Mobius does not appear to mind, humming happily as he leans into his boyfriend’s touch.
“Bleh,” she rolls her eyes, unable to fight the grin rising to her lips. “Quit being in love!”
“No thanks,” Loki quips back, sticking his tongue out at her childishly.
Just then, a man with thick glasses and what can only be described as nerd clothes walks in the shop, eyes not leaving the book in his hand until he reaches the counter.
“Welcome to Kablooie’s!” Sylvie says, putting on her customer service smile.
“Hi! What a cool place you have! I heard good things about your drinks, though I gotta say the interior is so different.”
As she takes his order, Casey comes from the back, freezing when he sees the man at the counter. When Sylvie notices, she frowns in confusion and nudges Casey, who hasn’t taken his eyes off the customer.
“Casey, are you alright?”
As if he’s been shocked, the smaller man startles, eyes jumping from Sylvie to the man at the counter.
“Er— y-yep! Uh— what was his order? I’m sure I could handle it!” he sputters out too quickly, and Sylvie meets the eyes of Mobius and Loki, who’d started paying attention as soon as the new customer entered.
“London fog.”
Casey nods and grabs a cup, eyes almost comically glued to the newcomer.
“The name for the order was Ouroboros,” Sylvie tells him, smirking as he shakily writes the name on the cup.
Interesting.