Chapter Text
Loki doubled over, his mind swimming in pain from Sif’s repeated assaults on his person. Being made to relive a painful yet pointless memory was low, even for Mobius.
Mobius… he was so jealous, he wouldn’t let Loki get a word in edgewise about Sylvie. To explain that he hadn’t meant to abandon him, but this was the only chance they had to really understand… he saw the opportunity, and he took it. He’d been the only one close enough to follow, and oh, what he’d learned was so important.
They were all variants, Mobius had been stolen from somewhere, just like Sylvie had. He’d had a past, a life somewhere that wasn’t here. But the moment Loki stepped through that time door, they all forgot how he’d helped. How he’d tried so hard to help them find the rogue variant, how he’d managed to make something close to friends here. Even D-90 was back, gloating about how he’d been right all along, how Mobius should never have trusted Loki.
Mobius had come and gone. They’d argued, never reaching any conclusion. At least he’d managed to tell Mobius that he was a variant. Mobius was more intelligent than most of the rank-and-file here, maybe he’d be able to do something with that information, even if he was still bitter about the betrayal. That Mobius believed D-90 over him now—that stung more than anything.
Sif rounded the corner again.
“You are alone, and you always will be.”
Loki almost sobbed, the pain rising in the back of his throat. If Mobius no longer believed him… he had been right all along. He’d expected to lose Mobius, and he had fucked everything up just as badly as he’d feared. Somehow, the vindication of being right didn’t make it hurt any less.
Loki heard footsteps and scrambled to his feet, straightening his spine to face whatever was coming, and—Mobius stepped out from around the corner. He still looked flustered, but it was different this time. Still angry at Loki, but there was something else. Something more personal.
Mobius took one look at Loki, and dismissed Sif’s hologram. He shrugged off his jacket, and dropped it on the floor beside him.
“What are you doing?”
Mobius ignored the question, and instead pulled out his TemPad. “Dance with me, Loki.”
“What, here?” Of all the things he’d expected Mobius to bring up, dancing was not one of them.
“I need to know.” Mobius looked desperate, his eyes full of some unnamed emotion. Almost certainly jealousy, but there was something else. Doubt, maybe, and fear. “Please. Just one dance.”
“First you beat me up, and then you want to dance with me?” Loki stared at him in disbelief.
“Loki.” Mobius took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’m about to—to do something crazy, and I need to know if I can trust you.”
“And dancing with me is going to tell you that?”
Mobius opened his mouth, then hesitated. “You were always more honest with your body,” he muttered.
Loki gave him an incredibly scandalized look, knowing full well that Mobius was right. The man was as attractive as ever, his skin flushed with activity. Without his jacket, Loki could see how his shirt hugged the curves of his body, and Loki wanted nothing more than to hold him again, to put his mouth to the softness hidden beneath the fabric. Loki grimaced at his own weakness. “Whatever happened to ‘you don’t have to mean it’?”
Mobius smiled sadly. “That’s for the audience. Your partner can always tell.”
Loki stared, processing the utter gall of this man. How dare he, after dismissing his earlier attempts to tell the truth. And the bitter way he’d said partner—it was like a slap in the face, but he supposed he deserved that.
“Fine.” He was tired of this back-and-forth, of not being believed when for once he knew he had something worth listening to. “I’ll dance with you. Happy?”
“We’ll see.” Mobius opened a new Time Door, and urged Loki inside.
They stepped out into a boring, familiar room. “It’s a copy of the dance room, inside a time cell,” Mobius explained. “That door doesn’t go anywhere—and no one should be able to find us here. Not for a while, anyway.”
Loki frowned, but waited. “Go on, then.”
Mobius sighed, flicking through his TemPad. He pressed play, and the music started.
Loki was taken aback by the surge of emotion that filled him at hearing that familiar tune. He took Mobius’ offered hand, and they fell into step just like that last time. At first, Loki allowed muscle memory to take him through the figures—a dramatic circular dip, basic steps with turns, and then they both felt it as something like magic took hold, synchronizing their movements perfectly. Loki felt that same bliss, that same tug of seiðr flowing through his veins, and he sobbed as Mobius caught him and pulled him into the next figure. They moved in time, bodies aligned, steps blending gracefully from one to another as they spoke without speaking.
The song ended and they just held each other, breathing hard as though they’d just run from the archives. The dance hadn’t even been that long—and then their eyes caught. Neither one knew who initiated, only that they stood there kissing deeply, desperately, until they had to break apart to breathe. Loki whined as Mobius pulled away with a final flick of his tongue.
“Mobius, I know I can’t be trusted. But I—I had to know.” Loki looked down at him, his eyes pleading.
“I know you did, Loki.” Mobius leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his eyes falling closed.
“I didn’t want to leave you.” Loki’s shoulders shook as he closed his eyes, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes, trailing bright lines down his cheeks. “I’m… sorry.”
“I know, Loki, I know.” Mobius sobbed, stroking Loki’s hair reassuringly. “I love you.”
Loki gasped, his eyes flying open. Mobius looked back at him with watery blue eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “Now you know why I was so upset.”
“You were jealous.”
“Of course I was jealous. I thought you’d run off with… that other you, someone who would understand you better than I ever could.” Mobius looked away, his shoulders tensing. “I thought I’d never see you again. I couldn’t help but feel like this meant nothing to you. That I meant nothing to you.”
“Mobius, you mean everything to me. That’s why I had to know.”
Loki wrapped his arms around Mobius, just absorbing his presence. That warm, familiar scent wrapped itself around his senses, reassuring him that Mobius was here, and that he forgave Loki enough to at least allow this. That Loki hadn’t completely lost him. Tears silently ran down his face, soaking into Mobius’ shirt.
“Loki, are you—”
“I love you too,” Loki whispered, holding Mobius tighter.
Mobius exhaled sharply. He pressed his lips to Loki’s shoulder, and just held him. Before we get too distracted, I have to finish what I started.
“Now, I have to go. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”
He opened a Time Door behind them, and pulled both of them back through. Loki looked up to see they were inside the palace at Asgard once more, and he tensed in Mobius’ arms.
“Don’t worry, Sif is gone. You’ll be safe in here.”
Mobius punched another code into his TemPad, opening another Time Door. “I’ll be back.”
Loki glanced at the Time Door, then back at Mobius. He seemed nervous, but the set of his jaw was determined.
“Mobius—” Loki began, but Mobius smiled and leaned in, capturing Loki’s mouth in a firm kiss. Loki whimpered as Mobius pulled away, trailing kisses along his jaw and nipping at the side of Loki’s throat.
“I promise I’ll be back,” he whispered into Loki’s ear. “And if this works… get ready to run.”
With that, Mobius stepped through the Time Door, and it closed neatly behind him.
Now all Loki had to do was wait.