Mobius woke sometime in the night, his throat dry, sleep patterns pressed into his skin by the buttons on his shirt.
As he flipped around in the bed, he found what had woken him up.
Loki face was tense, eyebrows knitted close and anxious. He seemed to be dreaming, fingers twitching against the bedsheets.
"Loki?"
Loki's hand twitched, falling back down onto his chest with a thump. His black, curly hair splayed across the avocado green pillowcase like ink dropped in water, a slight sheen to his forehead that was illuminated by the orange glow of the side table lamp.
"Loki?" Mobius prompted again, his whisper more frantic. Why wasn't he waking up? One would think after years of running, trusting nothing and no one, that Loki would be a lighter sleeper.
"Lo-," It was all he could get out before Loki shot up in bed, breath heaving raggedly in and out of his lungs. It sounded awful, like sandpaper against his throat, and Mobius flinched back at the sudden movement. And his eyes, they were huge--
Loki's gaze swung widely around the space, taking in the dark of the room, the rumpled sheets and figure sitting before him. The figures hand was on his leg, for gods sake, who--? His sleep deprived mind, still groggy from the deep night of sleep, flashed a huge, glowing, warning sign, and he was suddenly lurching across the bed.
He snarled as he and Mobius rolled off the bed, every fiber of his being wound tight ready to protect himself.
His adrenaline warmed his hands as it came to the surface, tingling and ready to stomp out anyone who dared surprise him in the middle of the night, taking him as a fool, as unaware, weak--
Loki's panic rose and swarmed them both, crackling like loose electricity. His face was contorted in rage and fear, a mix so unlike his previously sleeping form that Mobius has to tell himself to breathe. That Loki was scared, confused, still half asleep- it didn't stop the fear that rose in his throat, though.
"Loki! Hey!" Mobius choked out against the weight against his chest. Loki was sitting on his chest, rough hands pinning his wrists above his head. He squeezed, the godlike strength bruising his skin, nails digging into skin and drawing blood...
"What do you want from me?" Loki snarled, his face inches from Mobius'. Icy blue eyes and words that cut deeper than a knife.
His nails dug in deeper, Mobius wincing at the feeling.
"Stop. Loki, Stop!" He panted, struggling against his tight hold.
The switch in Loki's face was borderline heartbreaking.
"M-Mobius? What--," Vulnerable is the only word that comes to Mobius' frantic mind. "I-."
His gaze traveled up to their hands, the tips of Mobius' fingers trembling the slightest bit. But all Loki can see is the crescent moons of blood adoring Mobius' pale wrists in a sick bracelet, and he almost gags. He did that to him, he hurt him, pinned him to the floor and held him there, ready to pounce like a frightened snake.
"It's me." Mobius said, voice uncharacteristically small. His eyes held Loki's, pleading greens meeting horrified blue. Something passed between them, something familiar and grounding, their gasps for breath melting into the air. "It's me."
Loki's breath hitched as he realized the full weight of their situation. He had attacked Mobius, jumped him in the middle of the night. The analyst would never trust him after that, he'd kick him out of his room at the least, prune him at the worst...
Loki's world fell apart around him, and he could feel a heavy blanket of panic settle around his shoulders. He jumped off the analyst, falling against the bed frame. It was all over for him, he- he had hurt Mobius--
"I c-could have killed you." He whispered. His head was stuffed with cotton and his lungs felt like lead. "I cou-could have--." Mobius heart cracked in two with the desperate gasps for breath, Loki stuttering over his words like that.
A warm hand on Loki' wrist, and he was jerking away like it burnt him.
Mobius would have done anything to return to the sleeping, bed-messed Loki from an hour prior. He missed the way his breath puffed out of his lips and the way he made his scratchy sheets look so comfortable. Now, he was trembling before him, afraid to touch or be touched. It broke his heart.
Loki's chest hitched as he desperately tried to steady his breathing. The room was still dark. He met Mobius' eyes, realizing just how much he must have frightened the poor analyst.
"You were just...trying to wake me," Loki realized with a small laugh that quickly morphed into a sob. "And I-."
Mobius took note of how badly he was trembling, how terrified he seemed. His breath hitched, and his chest heaved dangerously as a suffocating heat washed over him like a tidal wave.
Mobius knew it wasn't good.
"Loki, try to calm down for me."
The god was panting furiously, watching Mobius. He had hurt him, he could have killed him...
The return of this realization sent a bolt of adrenaline through his stomach.
"I... I'm... I'm sorry." Loki croaked, voice hoarse and tight with emotion.
Gone was the trickster god, adorned with gold plating and sharp horns. Loki's big scared eyes were wide and pleading. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I-I wouldn't-," Loki choked on his breath, and Mobius couldn't stand it anymore.
"Shh," Loki shook his head, "Loki, I believe you."
Nothing was getting through to him. Why couldn't he listen to Mobius, what he was saying? He wanted to shake the god sitting before him, tell him about all the ways he trusted him, how he watched him all those years. How he ached to wipe the tears flowing from his face, hot and angry and hurt. Just how much he wanted Loki to feel okay...to feel safe with him.
Mobius went to press his hands against the heat of his cheeks.
Loki froze at the hand coming nearer, his body shaking wildly as his heart hammered in his chest.
His face tilted up to meet his gaze. Was Mobius...reaching out for him?
Why?
To strike? Grasp his hair?
To-to hold him down while he reached for the time stick?
There was no way he wasn't getting pruned after what he just pulled. Attacking Mobius, making him bleed...
"Wait! Ju-just wait!" Loki croaked, pushing Mobius away. His hands clenched into fists, heat swirling around his shoulders as he tried to think. He wanted to run. "Just--, I know, I'm a monster. I know. Just-wait."
He couldn't run. Couldn't flee. There was nowhere else to go.
But then, he felt it, like the gentle brushing of a petal against his cheek. A soft touch, despite the rough calluses of the mans fingertips.
Loki flinched away, eyes wide in fear and shock.
Gently, Mobius held Loki's cheeks in place. His index fingers pressed into his high cheekbones, pinkies just grazing the bottom of his earlobe. One of his thumbs came to rest upon his lips with such a reverence that Loki couldn't believe it was real.
"It's okay." Mobius insisted, voice no more than a whisper on Loki's skin. "We're okay."
Something in Loki broke open.
All of his carefully constructed barriers, the shields he had built around himself to protect his heart and soul, melted away in a matter of seconds. Loki felt his soul, vulnerable and exposed, aching for more. He melted into Mobius' touch, feeling Mobius wipe away the tears he tried so hard to stop.
There was no escape, and yet no fear of what might happen.
This kind man, who had showed him such grace, such forgiveness, stood before him. Loki had exposed the grittiest of himself, the dirty hate he carried in his heart, the scared, pitiful little boy hiding away under it all, and Mobius still looked at him like he was the only thing in the universe. Like the only thing that mattered was that he was okay.
Loki's fingers curled into his chest as he sank deeper into the analyst's touch.
Mobius was the only thing in the universe that mattered, Loki realized. Everything else was... noise. Confusion. But this-- this was clear, a glowing light in the darkness.
He closed his eyes, leaning into the analyst's chest as his touch spread warmth over his skin. Mobius felt like a warm bath full of valerian root and honey. He felt like the sun's rays upon the planes of his cheeks.
"We're okay. Try to relax for me, you're really shaken up there."
Loki turned his face up to allow the man's soft hand to move against his jawline. He shivered as Mobius' fingers ran through his dark hair, pulling at the strands with just the right amount of pressure.
It was the most he'd ever been touched in years, and he couldn't help it when a small noise of pleasure escaped him.
---
Loki could have fallen right back asleep with Mobius' hand in his hair.
He leaned his head into his palm as he reached the nape of his neck, the hair there long and soft.
He felt the gentle rumbles of a laugh deep in Mobius' chest.
"Are you laughing at me?" Loki couldn't muster the energy to sound venomous. It came out a little whiny, instead.
Mobius chucked louder, pulling Loki back from his chest.
"You're just like a kitty cat, you know."
Loki scowled at this.
"That's mortifying."
Mobius laughed again, and continued to unwind Loki's tangles. His hair curled around his fingers like wispy smoke.
"Cats... scratch." Loki started. He hesitantly traced below the marks, gliding a single finger across his skin with a gossamer touch.
Mobius' eyes glanced to his wrists. Redish purple blood caked them, some of it smeared along his forearm, a ring of halfmoons. As he noticed them, they started to burn just the slightest bit.
"They might." Mobius mumbled. "I don't mind."