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Mobius had been noticing a pattern: Loki kept disappearing during breaks or downtime. Not long, only for about 10-15 minutes at a time. At first, Mobius assumed he was off causing trouble–something with his “mischievous” acts or a secret plan of betrayal he’d be slightly devastated upon stumbling. But, after a few weeks of this, he’d heard countless TVA agents mention their recent occurrences of the god curled up in odd places: behind shelving units, on the floor of the Time Theater, even atop a stack of folders in the archives. Napping, like a cat.
“Is this some prank I just don’t know about?” he scoffed, his hands making their way comfortably to rest on his hips.
“No – seriously, you should’ve seen him yesterday,” B-15 joked, slightly whispering as if the god could hear them through the walls, causing Mobius’ eyebrows to slightly raise in curiosity, “Dead asleep beside the lockers.”
And, despite the ridiculous explanations, he’d laugh about it. Throughout the remaining days, he’d constantly tease Loki about it lightly, but he’d secretly – quietly – waited and watched for it. There was something amusing about it that he couldn’t seem to understand. Maybe it was the fact that Loki, the most commonly known God of Mischief, could sleep anywhere he pleased despite the unruly circumstances he’d been through.
But, another side of him began to realize the little sleep Loki had in general – and when he does, it’s always tucked away from everyone else like he was constantly on edge. Even after he’d awaken some nights, he’d find Loki missing from their quarters or hear him flipping through reports and files at his desk.
It strangely hit him harder than he expected.
After a rough night of constant variant hunting and file searching, he and Loki had a quiet walk around the halls for a swift break. Loki’s hands stayed well-rested in his pockets while Mobius had them straightforward by his side. They walked in a synchronized, awkward silence; the only noise audible between them was the thud of their footsteps against the floor.
“So, what's it about you and these weird sleeping habits I’ve heard about?” Mobius asked, breaking the silence as Loki gave him a slow stare, his eyebrow cocked upward.
“What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, you don’t think I’ve been noticing either? I mean – I haven’t seen it first-hand. But people see you sleeping practically everywhere. Anywhere. Not to mention you disappearing on me,” he added.
Loki fell silent for a few seconds, seemingly thinking over the agent’s concerns carefully. The hands in his pockets shifted lightly, his eyebrows furrowing for a split second, before a low chuckle left his throat.
“I’m a god, Mobius. I don’t need sleep,” he spoke, shrugging softly, a small smile forming on his lips.
Mobius replied with a similar small grin, followed by a slow nod. But, he didn’t believe a single word that came out of his lips. He’d read his file countless times before, over and over – he’d know almost every time he’d lied about something. So, he didn’t utter a confrontational word back in return, avoiding anything else to flow in the slow, settling, tense air.
“In the mood for pie at all?” he offered, stopping in his tracks for a second, his head tilting with a sincere look in his eyes. Loki too stopped, stared, and gave an almost admiring gaze toward him.
“You go ahead,” he assured, his eyes scanning the agent closely before continuing, “I’ll be there after I get another look at the files.”
With that, Mobius replied with a hum, watching as Loki turned his back toward him, heading back in the direction of the archives room. His eyebrows lightly furrowed once he hesitantly turned away from him, giving one last glance over his shoulder, before making his way toward his key lime pie.
Later, Mobius found himself wandering down the hall once more, holding a plate with two pie slices in his hand: one already half-eaten, while the other was untouched. He’d been waiting in the room for quite a while, Loki’s presence never making it as he had promised earlier. So, he ultimately decided to look for the god himself, taking a walk toward the archives room, occasionally passing and greeting a few agents along the way. But before he could step past the hall and enter the room, a figure caught his attention. A familiar figure caught his attention.
The dark curls, clingy jeans, and the god-awful tight white shirt were all familiar to him.
“And you said gods don’t need sleep,” Mobius muttered under his breath, using his free hand to gently run his fingers through the curls in his hair, seemingly getting a reaction out of the man as he shifted his head in closer to his touch, getting a soft hum in his exhausted, sleep state.
A few days had passed since then – the days after seemingly getting more tiring and irritating each second. Mobius barely had time for anything, even missing out on a few hangouts and pie invitations to focus on his task at hand. But, as he’d finally been granted a day of relaxation, he immediately decided on spending it with Loki – just, not before dropping off his work at his office.
With a huff, he entered his office late at night, the room dark and seemingly empty. He set a few files and paperwork on his desk, not bothering to sort the mess he’d added his pile onto. Just as he turned his back to leave, he heard the low shuffling of something, someone, close behind him.
His eyebrows furrowed as he took a slow step toward the door, one hand reaching for something to defend himself, seemingly a book at the feeling of it, while the other swiftly reached for a nearby light switch. Mobius took in a breath before flicking it on, turning his body toward the direction of the noise while raising the book, his guard immediately falling once he realized what it was.
There lay peacefully asleep, hair messy, arms tucked in with a file in hand, and utterly still, was Loki.
He paused, carefully watching, staring even.
Mobius didn’t dare wake him, a slow breath leaving his lips as he slid his jacket from his shoulders, walked up toward Loki’s sleeping body, and carefully placed the fabric around him. He walked back toward his desk, tugging at the pull switch on his lamp, the faint glow casting a small circle around the mess swamping it. He then turned the main light off, made his way toward his desk, and quietly sat.
He should go. But, he doesn’t – he can’t.
The next morning, Loki slowly stirred awake, the low light of Mobius’ lamp the first thing hitting his vision. He took a second to compose himself before sitting up, feeling something slide off his body as confusion hit him suddenly. His head turned toward the object, his hands caressing the fabric gently. Although, his attention was stolen from the object as he tilted his head up toward the shimmering lamp, only now realizing the past empty desk was suddenly occupied.
He was almost startled – then strangely touched.
Overtime, there was a gentle, almost unspoken shift. More brushes of fingers when passing files, softer looks. No one talks about the nap – but both remember it. From then on, Loki continued napping in Mobius’ office more often. At first, he pretended not to notice.
Then, he started keeping an extra blanket in the bottom drawer.
One day, Loki falls asleep with his head tipped onto Mobius’ shoulder instead of the couch. Mobius freezes, then relaxes, letting himself lean into it.
“You know, you don’t have to keep hiding when you need rest,” he murmured, giving him a small glance in the corner of his eye.
“I don’t. Not here.” Loki, half-asleep, replied.
Mobius doesn't say anything. He just smiles, enjoying the moment while pressing a kiss to the top of Loki’s hair.