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Mobius looked at Loki and felt compelled to ask one simple question:
“Whatever you’ve done. Is it a bad idea?”
The bad idea he was referencing, of course, was the one that had created the flicker of unbridled mischief in his own companion’s eyes. Loki seemed to always be looking for new ways to make him feel (well, old for one, but he wouldn’t say that–) like he was a few steps behind him, constantly.
Loki, with a smirk, held up the Tempad for his observation, its sleek and compact screen seemingly in perfect condition, “No. Definitely not.”
Mobius grabbed the Tempad, opening it to examine. It wasn't broken by any means. It didn’t even look too different from his own Tempad, most standard issue Tempads looked the same anyway. The problem started and ended with one simple fact.
This Tempad in particular couldn’t have belonged to Loki, seeing as he wasn’t allowed his own yet. (Forgive him if he wanted Loki to stay in one place after the horrible time-slipping incident earlier.) Mobius took a deep breath, basked in his final moment of peace for the foreseeable future, and flipped it open.
One look at the owner’s name in the upper right corner, and Mobius was letting out a long sigh.
It was definitely a bad idea.
“This is Casey’s Tempad.” He said.
Loki’s smile seemed to widen, “Is it?”
Mobius tore his eyes away from the Tempad to give Loki an unimpressed look, “How did you get Casey’s Tempad?”
Instead of answering, Loki reached out to take it back. Mobius quickly pressed a firm hand to Loki’s chest, keeping him at bay. He held the Tempad out of his reach, raising an eyebrow, “How did you get this?” He repeated.
Loki scoffed, “I took it, obviously.” He moved Mobius’ hand off of his chest, straightening his tie and his back simultaneously.
“Casey never goes anywhere without it.”
“Well, he’s certainly going somewhere without it now, because we have it.”
If it were any other situation, Mobius might have allowed himself the privilege to laugh a little at that. Instead he kept his face neutral, and the Tempad on his side of the metaphorical court.
“Why’d you take it, Loki?”
Loki blinked up at him, suddenly his voice grew cold, “Can you just give it back? Next time I won’t include you in my schemes if you’re going to be such a spoilsport.”
Mobius’ jaw dropped, “I am not a spoilsport!”
“I would categorize what you’re doing right now as spoiling, would you not?” Loki crossed his arms, expectantly.
Mobius sputtered for an answer, “Loki! You just can’t steal personal property-!”
Loki cut him off, his face going white with fear. He seemed to be staring right through Mobius. “Oh, Casey!” He greeted, stepping quickly onto Mobius’ foot to get his attention.
Mobius yelped, turning completely around, Tempad going behind his back in order to not get caught with the stolen goods.
As he did this however, he realized there was in fact no Casey coming anywhere near them in this completely empty hallway. Before he could turn back around, he felt Loki yank the Tempad out of his hand.
“Ha!” He yelled in triumph
Mobius wasted a moment, letting his eyes close with another sigh. By the time he had decided he needed to respond to this immature (and yet completely well executed) act, he saw Loki’s tall form rushing down the hall and around the corner.
“Aw, C’mon, Loki!” He yelled, breaking into a sprint, “That is so unfair!”
Despite how much Loki and Mobius shared, they did not share their feelings on running. Loki, accustomed to the action, had incredible stamina. Perhaps something to do with the well known fact that he is a God.
Mobius prided himself on a few personal achievements every now and then. But he wasn’t an idiot. He was not a strong runner. He had a hard time keeping up with Loki on a good day. Seeing as his mischievous competitor had a head start in this particular race, he was almost certain it was going to be impossible to catch up to him.
Mobius turned a sharp corner, and saw Loki’s head of dark black curls whip around to smile at him tauntingly.
He held up the Tempad, “Looking for this, Agent?”
Mobius, despite the burn of pain in his legs, pressed further, trying to catch up, “You little scamp!”
Loki tilted his head, as if considering the insult, “Maybe!” He said with a smile, and Mobius told himself that the sudden rise in heart rate after that must be because of the strain. Loki did seem to be running even faster.
Mobius held back a groan of frustration. He knew the TVA like the back of his hand. It was by far the largest and most complicated series of hallways Mobius had ever encountered. They never seemed to end. And while Mobius had been here eons longer than Loki, it seemed as though they were constantly discovering new entrances and exits. If his Loki was bored, (Which happened more often than you would think) Mobius would always tell him to simply walk in a new direction and stumble upon a room he’s never seen.
Mobius decided, as he watched Loki run into one of the largest filing rooms in the entire TVA, and start long-jumping the cabinets, that he should never have allowed him to do that.
“Can you stop?” He practically whined, taking a large gasp of air with his burning ribs, “Just for a second?”
Immediately at the sound of his voice, Loki took his last jump, and his feet planted firmly on the ground.
“Just for a second.” Loki promised.
Despite this, he continued to wait as Mobius powered through, dodging a few filing cabinets, and finally, once he was close enough to Loki, coming to a quick stop.. he took in a large deep breath, bent over and placed his hands on his knees.
“Nobody makes you do PE in the TVA, then?” Loki’s teasing him. He’s got his hands on his hips, and that devilish little smirk on his lips too. Despite this, Mobius can hear the hilt in his voice. Somewhere, buried deep amongst all that angst, he’s a little worried.
Mobius knows him well enough now to know that. So, he takes his time, gathering his breath. When he feels human again, and the burning in his ribs is less excruciating, he answers with a smirk too, “You know what PE is? Wow. Didn’t know they had that on Asgard.”
Loki clearly did not feel like gracing such a statement with an answer. They both knew what was or was not an activity on Asgard. Mobius knew everything about him. Instead, He waited patiently (read: impatiently) until Mobius finally stood up straight.
Back in one piece, Mobius fixed Loki a glare.
“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “You’re mad?”
Mobius shook his head bemused.
“Why?” Loki asked, seemingly shocked.
“Because you just ran me across the entire TVA trying to take back a Tempad that you stole from our friend!”
“Your friend.” Loki corrected.
“Our friend.” Mobius corrected his correction, “He’s our friend. You like him, I know you do.”
Loki shifted on his feet, “Perhaps a little.”
“So why take his stuff?” Mobius asked, leaning to sit on one of the filing cabinets.
Loki quickly mirrored him, taking position on one of the cabinets across from him. He held up the Tempad, running his thumb across the top of it. After a moment of passing silence, he finally looked at Mobius’ expectant face.
In the moment they made eye contact, Mobius could actually feel his own expression soften.
There are those sad green eyes, he thought. Those sad - but telling - green eyes. It was a trait exclusively to Loki, one that Mobius has since made himself very aware of.
Loki wore his heart on his sleeve. Something he would scoff at if mentioned, but true nonetheless. He was an open book, in that sense. Mobius needed just to watch him for a few moments to understand exactly what he was feeling. If he was scared, he’d start to grimace, with his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. If, on the other end, he was happy, Loki’s ears turned up (like a little pussy-cat) and his nose would color with blush. A few times, Mobius had seen Loki so happy that his eyes would start to gloss over. Those were his favorite.
Now, it only took Mobius a second to figure him out. He was upset. His brows scrunched together, his mouth twisted into a sideways pout. His big green eyes boring into Mobius’ soul. Reaching into his chest, and squeezing at his heart.
Or, in other words, wrapping Mobius around his little Godly pinky finger.
“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice low and soft, in the way he only could use with Loki, “Why are you upset?”
Loki swallowed around the obvious ball of emotion in his throat, “I’m not.”
“You are.” Mobius denied him access to the quick way out of the conversation, “Tell me why you want the Tempad so badly.”
Loki shook his head, holding the dreaded thing out to him, “I don’t want it. You can have it.”
Mobius quirked an eyebrow.
The straw that broke the God’s back. Loki grumbled under his breath, ran a slender hand through black hair and finally blurted out:
“I’m tired of grey walls.”
Mobius pushed it back at him, “Where do you want to go?”
After a moment, he gave in, a small shrug of his shoulders, “Anywhere.” He admitted, then added, “Somewhere warm.”
Mobius took the Tempad in one hand, and after a second of careful consideration, wrapped his other hand around Loki’s wrist. Immediately at the touch, Loki’s eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes brushing cheek.
Mobius did a quick double take around the room (as if there was even anyone who needed access to this filing room), and punched in a few coordinates on the Tempad.
The orange glowing hue of the time door opened, and he went in first, dragging Loki with him.
—
Once through the door, Loki’s eyes opened, and it took him a moment to adjust to the sudden natural light and take in his surroundings.
The sun was high in the sky, not quite overbearingly hot, but warm. Mobius stepped from behind their cover building. It was then that it became clear they were standing on a small, wooden pier overlooking the ocean. Littered across the pier were a few various shops and stalls. It wasn’t too busy, but there were some civilians in swimsuits, chatting excitedly. Someone was flying a kite. Loki took note that it was rainbow in color.
“Where are we?” Loki asked.
Mobius moved towards the railing of the pier, walking around without a care. He leaned on it, his back to Loki, looking out at the ocean. It occurred to Loki then, how well he fit in here. Like he belonged on the beach. Like that missing piece of the puzzle you find months after you have already put the almost finished one away.
“Seal Beach.” Mobius told him, flipping his head over his shoulder to look at Loki, his mouth playing up a smile, pushing at his mustache, “It’s in California. On Midgard, as you’d say.”
Loki joined him quickly enough, resting his arms on the railing, “When are we?”
“1983.” Mobius spoke.
He hummed in acknowledgement. The wind picked up then, and it filtered through their hair. It pushed Loki’s off his face, and he reveled in the feeling. He tucked a few strands behind his ears for good measure.
The pier overlooked the ocean. The waves rose high up, and then came crashing down. They ate at the sand, quickly washing away any evidence of footprints, and just as quickly rushing back to its spot.
“It’s my favorite.” Mobius broke the silence.
Loki fixed him with a confused look, so he amended his statement, “Decade, I mean. The 1980s.”
Loki shrugged halfheartedly, “I only visited a few times.”
“Lots of good music came out this year.” Mobius said absentmindedly. From this angle, standing beside him beachside, Loki was struck with a thought.
He looked beautiful.
Mobius looked good most days, Loki might even go as far as to say that he looked good everyday, except that the time he spends with Mobius is in the TVA, and there are no ‘days’ there. Nonetheless, what he means to say is - Mobius was by no means unattractive.
Still Loki thinks now, standing profile to him, crooked nose glowing tan amongst the vast blue sky beyond him, grey hair flickering in the wind, and the look of content swimming in those blue eyes -
Loki licked his lips, and tasted salt on them. Surely an effect of the beach air.
“Beethoven?” Loki asked, breaking away from his thoughts.
Just to spite himself, it seems, Loki broke the tranquility of it all.
Mobius turned to face him, a smirk playing on his lips at first, but it melted quickly into one of those soft smiles. He asked, “What are you talking about?” With a laugh tacked on at the end.
“You said good music came out this year. He was a musician..on Midgard.” Loki stumbled through, feeling rather stupid for even speaking now.
“Not in the 1980s!” Mobius clearly couldn’t help himself, and began laughing earnestly, falling forward so as to lean his forehead against the railing.
“Well, how am I supposed to know?” Loki retorted, “I’m not a Midgardian Music expert!”
Mobius had to recover from his laughing before he responded. When he did, he pulled himself up from the railing, face flushed a little red, shaking his head sillily, “No...definitely not.” He agreed.
Loki scoffed so as to dampen the butterflies flying circles in his stomach, “What music, then?”
Mobius, for a lack of a better descriptor, blinked. After the silence had started to border on unbearable, Loki’s head turned to face him, “Mobius?”
“Repeat the question?” Mobius managed.
“What music came out in your mystical 1980s?”
“You really want to know?”
Loki straightened his back, taking himself entirely off of the pier railing. He poured all of his attention into the other man, “Yes.”
Mobius rolled his eyes. Such a dork. He drummed his fingers against the railing, considering.
“You ever heard of Kajagoogoo?” Mobius found himself asking.
Loki gawked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head, “I beg your pardon?”
“This might take awhile. How’s about I buy you icecream first?”
Loki was quick with a smile, “I want chocolate.”
“Alright.” Mobius said, pushing himself off of the railing.
They began to walk along the pier, side by side.
“And a cone.” Loki added.
“Alright.” Mobius said, all smiles.
“I want three scoops.”
“Two.”
“Two and sprinkles.” Loki tried.
Mobius hummed in thought, “You’re pushing it.”
“That’s what I’m best at.” Loki agreed.