1.
The snow is coming down swiftly outside, and Mobius watches with a fascinated silence. Loki is asleep beside him, drool slipping from his mouth. It draws a smile to Mobius’ lips, and he reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind is lover’s ear. “Loki,” he whispers, shaking him gently. “It’s snowing outside!”
Loki grumbles something unintelligible into his pillow and rolls over with a groan, burying his face into Mobius’ chest. His heart fills with warmth- he always cherishes these sweet, mundane moments with Loki. “It’s time to wake up, kitten.”
Loki lets out a small whine but pulls away slightly, bright green eyes blinking open to stare at Mobius. They’re sleepy and somewhat confused, and Mobius can’t help but surge forward to give him a messy smack on the lips.
“What time is it?” Loki grumbles, eyes fluttering shut for another moment.
“Time to shovel!” Mobius responds with a wide grin and untangles himself from Loki so he can go brush his teeth. He doesn’t wait for Loki, muttering a quick, "I'll meet you outside", and shuffles to the bathroom to get ready. Once he’s thoroughly freshened up, he pulls on leggings and sweatpants over them, as well as a chunky sweater.
He slides out the back door and stomps to the garage to grab a shovel. The snow is still coming down heavy, but he figures he can at least deal with the layer that was leftover from last night. He wonders where Loki is momentarily, but eventually decides that he must just be taking a shower or eating breakfast- neither of which Mobius can exactly complain about.
After an hour or so of shoveling, no Loki to be found, he finishes. He’s slightly annoyed. While it’s not abnormal for Loki to be lazy, he usually tries to help for a bit before inevitably growing bored and disappearing to find something more exciting.
He quietly slides into the house, but his presence is only met with silence, as opposed to the frantic apology he had been expecting. “Loki?” he calls, as he pulls out of his cold, slightly-wet clothes.
He walks cautiously to the bathroom, a little worried. There’s nobody in there, so he quickly moves to investigate their bedroom. “Loki?” He pushes open the door hesitantly and is met with darkness. The blinds are drawn, there’s a lump under the covers that’s curled into a small ball, and his stomach fills with dread at the site. “Kitten, what’s wrong?” he murmurs and reaches out to pull the covers away from his hiding partner.
“I do not feel good,” comes a muffled response after a moment. Mobius sighs, not wanting to push but curious for the truth.
“You can tell me when you’re ready,” he finally agrees, and cards a hand through Loki’s hair.
“I am sorry I did not help you shovel. I am unwell,” Loki insists, staring at the wall, unblinking. Mobius wonders if he really is. He does look awfully pale, and his breath is coming out somewhat raggedly. “I got sick in the bathroom.”
Mobius blinks at that, unsure what to say. He knows Loki doesn’t get sick often, other than the occasional headache. It truly is worrisome that Loki is throwing up. He leans over, resting a hand against Loki’s forehead. It’s warmer than normal, but nothing too alarming, and it allows Mobius to relax somewhat.
“I’ll make you some tea,” Mobius offers, and stands to go do just that. “Why don’t I open the blinds? Some light might do you good.”
“No,” Loki hisses forcefully. It makes Mobius stop abruptly, but before he can turn back to confront Loki, he continues speaking, “I- I have a headache, Mobius. The light was only making it worse.”
Mobius frowns, tempted to pry some more, but instead makes his way to the kitchen. He grabs a mug and some water, shoving it into the microwave. Not the best for tea, but it’s faster than the kettle method. He hesitates slightly as he opens the tea cabinet, debating if he should give Loki a simple green tea and honey, or go for something more relaxing like chamomile.
He chooses the chamomile and grips it tightly with two hands as he brings it back to Loki. Loki is once again buried deep under the covers. If he must admit it, Mobius feels a little bit helpless- while he’s glad Loki trusts him, he hates seeing Loki so miserable. He leaves him to get some rest as his stomach rumbles, keen to make a late lunch for both of them.
He figures if Loki feels nauseous, a big meal is the last thing he needs, so he grabs a variety of fruits and sets to cutting them up. He’ll make something for himself after he tends to Loki.
As he did with the tea, he sets the fruit platter down on the nightstand. Half the tea is gone, and he supposes it’s the bet he could have hoped for. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, a hand reaching back to rest on Loki’s shoulder. “Feeling better?” He inquires.
“Yes,” comes the stiff answer, but at least Loki squirms so his head is poking from the covers. “Lunch?”
Mobius hums a confirmation. “I’m going to go make something for myself. If you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you join me in the kitchen?”
Loki frowns, seeming to consider. He looks less pale than he previously had, but the hollow look remains in his eyes. “Very well,” he agrees slowly, like he’s still unsure, but he pulls the covers fully down and stands on shaky legs.
Mobius reaches a hand to steady him and stands as well. Loki follows him silently into the kitchen and takes a seat on the counter, clutching his plate of fruit in one hand and his lukewarm tea in another.
“What do you want for dinner?” Mobius asks, grabbing some leftovers from the fridge.
“Dinner? We have not even finished lunch.”
“Fruit isn’t much of a lunch,” Mobius counters, throwing some chicken in the air fryer to reheat. “If you’re feeling better, you should eat more.”
Loki stares at him for a long second and then shrugs. Mobius watches as he grabs a slice of kiwi and shoves it obnoxiously in his mouth. “I do not care. I would not mind Mexican, but you’re already eating tacos.”
Mobius tilts his head fondly. If Loki wants it, they’re going to get it. He can never say no anyway, and it’s not like he’s going to deny Loki when he’s clearly ill. “We can have Mexican,” he promises, heart fluttering at the beaming smile Loki sends him.
Good. He’s glad that his lover is feeling better. He hopes it will last.
He does not notice the fact that it is no longer snowing.
Loki stares at the TV, but he’s not really watching. Mobius is shuffling around on the other side of the living room, grabbing essentials for his ski trip. Loki can’t help the bitter feeling in his chest, and he turns his gaze to his hands, trying not to let tears form.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Mobius' soft voice interrupts his thoughts.
No, I would only ruin it for you, it’s going to start snowing soon, he wants to say, but instead, he forces a toothy grin. “I really must indulge my brother, Mobius. It has been some time since we have seen each other.” He doesn’t feel as bad as he probably should for lying.
For a moment, Mobius looks like he wants to argue, but he’s the one always insisting that the two brothers spend more time together, so he just turns away. Loki doesn’t miss the sigh that escapes his lips.
Ten minutes later, Casey pulls into their driveway. Loki watches with unimpressed eyes as B and Sylvie slide out of his shitty blue minivan.
Did Mobius truly have to invite them in? If Sylvie sees him, she will know what’s wrong. He pushes himself to his feet and begins toward the bathroom. “I need to shower,” he announces and slips in before Mobius can persuade him to greet their guests.
He turns on the shower, twists the handle until the water comes out scorchingly hot, hoping it will remind him of normality. He does not want to think of his Jotun roots. He does not want to give in to the urge to slip outside into the dark, cold, shitty afternoon.
He does not want to act Jotun. He is fine, inside. He is fine where it is warm.
He is a God. He is Odinson.
He is Laufeyson.
He shivers despite the hot water, and sinks to the ground, relishing the feeling of the soothing shower splashing on his skin.
He stays curled on the floor until the water runs cold and he's sure there will be no Mobius to greet him. Loki towels himself off slowly, feeling sluggish and tired.
He sucks in a deep breath and pries the bathroom door open before making a beeline to the bedroom. He is glad he thought to close the blinds when he had first seen the forecast.
He slides under the covers, pulling them over his head. For a moment, the silence echoes, and there is not a sound.
And then a sickening wave of panic hits him.
He tries to practice breathing exercises, the ones Mobius had given him during their time at the TVA when he had too often woken from nightmares. When this fails to work, he lets the panic crash down on him.
He doesn't know whether to be happy or upset that Mobius is not here to help. He sobs for a while, pitifully. There's nobody here to comfort him: he's by himself. It is not abnormal for him to be by himself, in need of comfort, but it doesn't mean he enjoys it.
Eventually, he blinks away the last few tears, and when his eyes dry, instead of fear or self-pity, all he feels is rage. He did not ask to be born a monster. He did not ask to crave the ice and the cold.
A growl escapes his lips. His hands tremble, and he wants the thrill of breaking something, anything. He settles for gripping the comforter with two hands and pulling with as much force as he can muster. Satisfaction floods him as it tears between his fingers.
Mobius will not be happy. Loki does not care. He will deal with that later. At least now he feels more restless than sad. He tugs a hand through his hair and glances at the clock.
Mobius will be home soon. Loki figures he should start dinner- he had foolishly promised to make dinner tonight.
A million excuses flood his mind, but none seem worthy. He is not ignorant enough to use the sick excuse again: it had worked once, it might not work again. If it did? Mobius would probably insist on taking him to a doctor. The worry would have been valid, had it not been a lie.
He sucks in a shaky breath, forcing himself out from the covers to start prepping dinner. At least there are no windows in the kitchen- something Mobius has complained about many times, but Loki is overwhelmingly grateful at the current moment.
He prepares what he can, and sets it in the fridge for later. It pleases him deeply that he's managed to prepare dinner for them despite his anxiety. Loki blinks in surprise, as he remembers exactly why he feels so shitty. He wonders briefly if it's still snowing, or if it had even begun. He is not about to look.
He's just about to leave the kitchen when he realizes that the house is dreadfully dark. Not a light is on, and Loki suddenly feels very exhausted from the mix of panic and then cooking. Instead of going back to their bedroom, he settles on the cold kitchen tile, and leans his head against a cabinet.
He's not sure how long he sits there, staring at the shadowy outline of their table, before he hears the front door fling open.
He considers standing. He considers pushing a smile onto his face and greeting Mobius happily. He does neither. He doesn't even move, other than to flinch, as Mobius flicks the kitchen light on and stares down at him with questioning eyes.
"Loki," he greets.
Loki loves the way his name rolls off Mobius' lips. He has always loved it. It calms him, for a second. "Mobius," he responds. He doesn't bother to stand, but he makes sure not to look terribly sad. "How was your outing?"
"Ah, it was fine. Casey almost broke a bone, but Sylvie managed to... Help? Well, anyway, it's not broken. It's just a sprain.
Loki frowns, unhappy with the thought of Casey getting hurt. Mobius seems to notice his silent distress, and crouches down so they're eye level. He reaches out a hand, and Loki instantly leans into the touch. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it, even if Mobius was only gone for a short time.
"Did you make dinner?" Mobius questions with a gentle smile.
"It is in the fridge, ready to be heated," Loki tells him. His eyes blink tiredly. "It was a busy day, I am tired. I might retire to bed early."
"Thor too much of a handful?"
Ah. Loki had forgotten.
"Yes," he lies easily. "He always is. I am only equipped to deal with his boisterous personality for so long."
"I sometimes wonder how you managed to grow up with him. I mean, I've seen it. But still."
"When one can stab his brother, it does allow to get some frustration out," Loki responds dryly.
Mobius chuckles, and turns from Loki to get the food out of the fridge. "You can go lay down. I'll heat it up and bring it to you."
Loki jumps up, and quickly makes way to their bedroom.
He must take care of the comforter before Mobius can see the damage.
"Do you want to watch Frozen?"
Loki blinks at Mobius incredulously. "Seriously?" He asks, and Mobius notices the slight bite to his tone. "Must we?"
"It's good," Mobius insists. "Or we could watch Cars."
"Your taste is terribly refined," Loki replies sarcastically, but fondness shines brightly in his eyes. Mobius leans forward to give him a quick peck on his lips.
"What do you suggest, then?" He asks as he grabs a few blankets to take with them to the living room.
"Might we watch Luca?" Loki offers quietly.
Mobius shrugs, indifferent. He likes Luca well enough. "Sure. I'm going to make hot cocoa. Want some?"
"I would not be opposed."
Mobius nods, but hesitates before heading to the kitchen. "We're gonna have to shovel tomorrow."
"Why?"
"It's snowing."
Loki stiffens. Or maybe he doesn't. It's only for a second, and Mobius wonders if he'd imagined it.
"I do not wish to shovel," Loki mutters, but before Mobius can argue, he adds, "I will be out to the living room soon. Please close the blinds, so we might have complete darkness while viewing the movie."
Mobius frowns, but doesn't think too much of it as he makes his way to the living room. He throws the blankets on the couch, and makes sure to draw the blinds as Loki had requested. Afterward, he starts on the hot cocoa. After a quick moment of consideration, he also pops some popcorn into the microwave- it’s one of Loki’s favorite foods, especially when Mobius sneaks a bag of peanut m&ms in for him.
When he’s finished, a large bowl of popcorn nestled in his arm and a steaming mug of cocoa in either hand, he sinks down onto the couch beside Loki. He takes a moment to simply observe his lover. His hair is tied into a loose bun. His skin is a bit more pale than normal, and he’s wound tightly in his favorite blanket.
Mobius hands him the mug and sets the bowl of popcorn between him. Luca is already pulled up on the screen, so Mobius grabs the remote to unpause it. He carefully keeps his eye on Loki- the God has been acting weird lately, after all. He doesn’t want something to go unnoticed and turn out to be a bigger issue later. He loves Loki, really,- but there have just been too many times where his obersvence has failed him, despite his analyzer status.
Loki doesn’t spare him a glance. His eyes are glued on the TV. Mobius has seen this movie enough times that he doesn’t really care what’s going on, he just wants to make sure Loki is okay.
He’s got to figure out what’s wrong. It’s been going on too long. First, there had been the sickness. Then, he had lied about Thor- Mobius knows things. He knows that was a desperate excuse. He hasn’t brought it up yet- if Loki wants to admit it, he can, but Mobius isn’t about to set him off by demanding an apology. And now there’s… this.
The blinds, again.
Mobius scowls to himself. Maybe the problem isn’t emotional. Maybe Loki has simply been getting headaches, or worse, migraines, and he likes the darkness. In truth, that worries Mobius a little more than any emotional stump Loki could’ve found himself in. Emotions? Normal. Migraines and headaches and throwing up in the bathroom? Less normal, for a Jotun prince, at least.
They make it halfway through the movie, and then Mobius bursts. He can’t help himself. He reaches out, grips Loki’s hand, and pulls it to his lap, holding it firmly. Loki’s skin is cold against his own. “Have you been getting migraines?” Mobius whispers, despite the loud music the movie is currently producing.
“What?” Loki asks sharply, turning to face him. He makes a somewhat funny face full of confusion, and Mobius gives his hand a quick squeeze.
“You’ve been acting… off,” he tells Loki honestly. “You were sick, you keep asking me to close the blinds… you went to bed early the other night.” He stops himself from mentioning Loki’s failed outing with Thor.
“Oh.” Loki looks away, blinking silently at the wall.
“So have you been getting migraines?” Mobius prods. He doesn’t even realize he’s giving Loki an easy way out, but he’d be unable to help himself even if he was aware- he just wants some peace of mind, even if it’s formed from a half-truth.
Loki turns back to him, eyes wide. Mobius searches them for something that isn’t there, and can’t help it when his shoulders sag in defeat. He’s getting nowhere. He just wants to know what’s wrong so he can help.
“Yes,” Loki finally mumbles. “My migraines have been persistent. I did not want you to worry.”
Mobius cocks his head, and thinks for a moment. He can’t quite decipher if this is a lie. There’s truth behind it, maybe. Or it’s a cover up.
He accepts it by brushing a soft kiss to Loki’s knuckles. “Okay. Now I know. Maybe we can ask Sylvie if she can figure out what’s wrong?”
“There is no need,” Loki tells him stiffly, but sends him a reassuring smile. “They have been… lessening. My thoughts have just been wild, as of late.”
“If you need someone-”
“I am fine, Mobius.” This time his shoulders go rigid and there’s a snarl hidden in his voice. Okay. Clearly he doesn’t want to talk about it, but he has to at some point.
“Alright,” Mobius agrees, unphased. He’s used to Loki’s outbursts, and has even come to expect them. “If they get worse, promise you’ll tell me?”
For a second, Mobius wonders if he’ll disagree. To his surprise, he nods, a jerky yet tense motion, and mutters out, “It is a deal.”
Mobius lets Loki’s hand fall from his grasp, but he’s pleased when his partner only readjusts, shoving the finished popcorn bowl to the ground to cuddle closer to Mobius. He reaches out to stroke Loki’s hair, and presses a kiss to his forehead.
They’re getting somewhere, even if it’s not far, and that’s enough for him right now.
Mobius doesn’t lose Loki often. There’s been a few times where he’s come home, and has found a sticky note placed on the kitchen counter, stating just where Loki has gone, and when he’ll be back.
Mobius will never admit that it worries him when Loki disappears. He doesn’t even have need to worry about his safety- he knows Loki can handle himself. It’s just… he’ll always wonder if Loki will betray him again.
This time, there’s no note, and it throws him off, leaving an uneasy feeling in his stomach. There’s a few possibilities.
Loki's left him for good.
Loki's been kidnapped.
Loki-
The sound of scratching interrupts his thoughts, and he turns toward it, eyes round and startled. “Loki?” He calls, even though he had been sure that his partner was nowhere to be found.
The scratching continues, growing slightly frantic. He hesitantly heads toward it, and finds himself standing in front of their hallway closet.
The door is shut tightly, and he slowly reaches a hand out to pull it open, prepared to fight whatever beast might emerge. He’s pleasantly surprised when instead of an angry, possibly otherworldly, creature tumbles out, it’s simply a soft black cat, who he instantly recognizes.
“Hey there, kitty,” he chuckles, and crouches down to give his lover-turned-cat a scratch between the ears. “What’s gotten you spooked?” The only reason Loki ever turns into a cat is to hide from something. There had been the time with the thunderstorm, which had made sense. But it’s not storming, there’s nobody in the house (Loki isn’t a coward, if there had been a threat he would have dealt with it), and other than the light flurry Mobius had walked through from his car to the front door, there’s no extreme weather.
Unless it is the snow. The thought slips into Mobius’ mind, and he spends a second, just a second, before he suppresses a roll of his eyes and quickly shuts it down. Loki is a Jotun, for goodness sake. Of course he’s not afraid of the snow.
Loki simply growls in response, and slinks away from Mobius’ hand to curl right back into a bundle of blankets that look as if they’d been methodically placed into the closet. Maybe he’s just cold. That seems weird, too, but he’s pretty sure the heat isn’t on, and maybe all his time on earth has softened Loki's Jotun instincts.
“I’m going to turn the heat on, and then I’m going to watch Criminal Minds. You can watch if you want, but I’m not closing the blinds, otherwise I’ll fall asleep.”
He’s met with unblinking, green cat-eyes. Deciding it’s a losing battle, and Loki will join him when he’s ready, he leaves to turn up the heat and finish the second season of his new binge. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but eventually he grows more worried as it’s clear that Loki isn’t going to join him.
Mobius begins toward the closet, but makes a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a large mason jar filled to the brim with catnip. Hopefully this will work. If it doesn’t, he’ll just have to drag Loki to the bedroom.
He pulls open the closet door once more, met with a chirp from Lokitty. "Hey there," he greets, a devious smile curling on his lips. "If you come out, I've got a treat for you."
Loki cocks his head curiously, but narrows his little cat-eyes in suspicion. Mobius just smiles on, taking a step back and waving the jar of catnip in the air for him to see.
That's enough to get his attention. He stalks out, tail flicking in annoyance, and reaches a paw up to bat the mason jar. Obviously he's not strong enough to knock it to the floor.
"You can have it if you agree to come back to the bedroom as a human after."
If a cat can scowl, Lokitty definitely does, but he meows what Mobius assumes is acceptance, so Mobius dumps out a fair share of catnip onto the ground, leaving Loki to have his fun in favor of getting under their warm covers. Mobius changes into comfier clothes and slips into bed, glad to finally relax.
Loki comes in a few moments later, completely in the nude, with a light blush on his face. Mobius, who of course is always prepared, tosses him a shirt and boxers, which Loki catches easily and gratefully pulls on.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Mobius asks.
“There is nothing wrong,” Loki answers simply, and doesn’t immediately slide into bed beside Mobius as he had expected his lover to. Instead, Loki closes the blinds. A common occurrence, and Mobius is beginning to grow somewhat annoyed by it. Is it too much to ask to wake to light streaming in?
But Loki looks slightly more relaxed as the room is engulfed in complete darkness, as there is no longer the faint shine of the streetlights to brighten it, so Mobius bites down any comments he has, instead pulling Loki into a soft kiss.
Loki relaxes against him, and Mobius’ hands stretch out to grab Loki’s hair, tugging slightly so that they pull apart and Mobius can get a good look at the flush forming on his lover’s cheeks. “You look very handsome,” he can’t help but praise, and allows one hand to gently stroke Loki’s hair.
“As do you,” Loki hums, and leans forward to capture his lips into another quick kiss. “But I am dreadfully tired,” he continues, and settles down atop Mobius’ chest. Mobius frowns, knowing Loki can’t see it, and is a little disappointed- sure, cuddling is nice, but they haven’t made out in forever.
He doesn’t mention a thing, and instead begins to rub soothing circles onto Loki’s tense back. He wonders in passing how long it’s been since Loki’s really relaxed, if ever. He always seems to be on edge, especially lately.
Mobius continues his gentle touches as Loki falls asleep, which is a site that Mobius will never grow tired of. He just wishes his partner would be more open, and tell him what’s really wrong, if it’s not the migraines.
It doesn’t snow again for a few weeks, much to Mobius’ disappointment. He had hoped to go cross country skiing, but the lack of snow makes his wishes complicated to achieve.
But today is different, it seems. The wind roars outside, and of course the heat is broken- it’s just their luck. Mobius shivers as he steps into their bedroom to retrieve blankets for them.
He eyes the window warily, before a grin blooms onto his lips.
It’s snowing again. If simply snowing is even the right word for it- really, its a blizzard out there. It honestly thrills Mobius- he can’t remember ever having experienced one, even in his days before the TVA.
Mobius bundles as many blankets as he can, and struggles to tug the comforter off the bed. It's way too cold, especially without heat, and he can feel his teeth beginning to chatter.
When he reaches the living room, he dumps the blankets down on the coffee table, not yet looking at Loki, and reaches for the remote. A ragged breath stops him.
He glances over to see Loki, hands shaking and mouth hanging open with obvious panic. It unfortunately takes him a second to process. Then he thinks, shit, how could I have been so dumb?
It’s snowing. It’s been snowing. Everytime Loki is sick, or a cat, or using some bullshit excuse- snow.
Loki isn’t afraid of it, maybe. Or maybe he is. But Mobius doesn’t really think so. No, he thinks quite the opposite.
“Loki, Kitten,” he crouches down to eye level, and grips Loki’s hands in his. “You’re okay. C’mon, Kitten, can you breathe for me?”
He’s met with another pitiful gasp. It breaks his heart. “Sweetie, you’re okay,” he repeats, and tugs Loki carefully onto the floor so they can be closer. He repositions himself so his legs are slotted between Loki’s and he can easily lean forward and pull him into a tight hug. He rubs his back slowly, pressing a few kisses to the top of Loki’s head. The breathing doesn’t improve; instead, Loki lets go of a sob, and a small whimper escapes his lips.
Mobius sighs, not out of annoyance, but in worry. One hand reaches up to cradle Loki’s head, and he squeezes his lover tighter, hoping the pressure will soothe him. It seems to help a little, as Loki’s breathing comes out slightly less labored, but Mobius can still feel his shirt getting wet with tears.
“Is it the snow?” He asks once he thinks Loki is calm enough. He still isn’t doing great at all, really, but Mobius needs to confirm the problem before he can get to the bottom of it.
He’s met with a hesitant nod.
“What about it?” he prompts, hoping that Loki will actually speak. It’s a bit of a gamble.
It takes a few moments for Loki to answer. He seems to try and gain control of his sobs- it takes many attempts, but eventually he answers Mobius with a semi-stable voice, “I do not like being Jotun.”
“Why not, Kitten?” Mobius knows the answer, but he tries to keep his voice even and curious.
“They are monsters,” Loki sneers, and begins to pull away. Mobius doesn’t completely let him, only enough so that they can see each other’s faces, and he shoots him an unimpressed look. His answer isn’t good enough, and he needs Loki to know that. “I am more Asgardian than I am Jotun."
"Why can't you embrace your Jotun form, though? Why would that be so bad?"
"They are monsters of ice and devastation," he insists.
"But you're not."
"But I am one of them!" This time he yanks out of Mobius' grip before he can stop him.
"Loki," Mobius says sternly, "you're ignoring your Jotun instincts."
"Yes."
"That's not healthy. It isn't healthy to ignore your natural instincts, Loki."
Loki looks away, in shame or rage, Mobius isn't sure. There's a few seconds of silence before Loki finally speaks again. "You… you would not be disgusted if I….gave in?"
"Of course not. I love you, Loki. That includes every part of you. Even the ones you don't like."
Loki frowns. The confusion is clear in his eyes, and Mobius' heart twists a little at the site. After all this time, Loki can't possibly believe that Mobius would love all of him? It's not like Mobius finds Loki's Jotun form any less attractive. He's not racist, for fucks sake.
"I don't know how." Loki's voice is a mix of misery and raw, overwhelming sadness.
"We can start slow," Mobius quickly assures. "Like tomorrow. We can shovel, okay? You and me. And if you need a break because it's overwhelming, you can take a break. As many as you need."
Loki seems to consider. He's still frowning, but there's something else- hope. His eyes are hopeful.
Mobius lets out a relieved breath he hadn't noticed he was holding.
"Fine," Loki agrees tentatively. "I shall… shovel with you tomorrow." Then he straightens, his unhappy look falling from his face completely, and he pushes to his feet.
"It is cold, Mobius. You must be freezing."
He startles, realizing he is, in fact, very cold. He'd been so engrossed in helping Loki he'd forgotten that their heat was completely gone.
Loki wraps a few blankets around Mobius' shoulders and bends down to give him an affectionate kiss.
Their conversation is far from over, though, and he's going to make sure Loki knows. "We're not done yet."
Loki lets out a somewhat defeated sigh, but plops back down into the floor beside Mobius, anyway. They sit cross-legged, staring at each other expectantly, as if each waiting for the other to speak first.
Surprisingly, it's Loki who breaks the silence. "I did not mean to hide this from you for so long," he admits. "I was going to tell you… and then, I thought it might be better not to."
"You can tell me anything. I wish you would've told me sooner. I've been worried about you."
"I know, Mobius. My apologies. I just… I thought I might be able to hide it, but this winter has proven to be against me."
"We're in New York, Loki… they get a lot of snow."
"I should be glad. It is just what I need." He laughs bitterly. "If anything, I belong in the icy tundras of Siberia."
"We'll save that visit for a later date," Mobius takes the joking angle, glad when Loki's lips twitch upward into a half-smile.
"I suppose we will," Loki confirms, and glances away, suddenly very interested in the floor. "But in the mean time… I believe I should be warming my mortal up."
It's an offer. Mobius takes it gladly.
+1
Mobius glances at Loki. He really is a site for sore eyes: a hat is pulled messily over his curly hair, he's wearing a puffy, green sweater, and a pair of tan cargo pants. The snow boots are really just the tip of the iceberg. He thinks it would be better if he could see Loki in his Jotun form, but he supposes it's as good as it's going to get for now.
Mobius forces his attention back to the task at hand: shoveling. He can kiss Loki later. They're supposed to be shoveling.
He shivers against the cold and wipes a gloved hand against his face, which only makes it worse, as the snow that had previously been stuck to his gloves rubs off against his skin. He holds back an annoyed sigh and resumes shoveling.
He’s able to focus on shoveling for merely five more minutes before his gaze drifts back to Loki. His lover doesn’t notice him, and Mobius frowns toward him. Loki is tossing their snow into their neighbor’s driveway. Luckily, it doesn’t look like he’s home, but Mobius doesn’t want to encourage bad behavior.
Still. It's… a bit funny, all things considered. Just something he'd expect Loki to do. “Loki.”
“Yes?” Loki pauses from his snow-flinging to turn to Mobius. His eyes are bright and happy, and Mobius doesn’t have the heart to scold him as he'd originally been planning- if it’s making Loki feel calm enough to be out in the cold, he can allow it. It’s not encouraging bad behavior if it’s encouraging a good mood…
“How about we take a break and get some tea?” He asks instead. At least that'll stop Loki's action, but won't cause an argument. “I’m getting old. I can only do this for so long before my back starts hurting."
Loki drops the shovel to the ground and it lands with a muffled clatter. “Thank the Norns. I was beginning to believe this would never end.” He makes his way toward the door, and Mobius narrows his eyes in curiosity.
“You wanted to take a break and didn’t ask?”
“If anyone's old, it's me, by the way," Loki calls back to him, clearly ignoring the question. At that, Mobius does sigh, unable to contain it. It's always one step forward and three steps back, it seems.
He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he waits until he's cornered Loki in the kitchen, and crosses his arms over his chest, going for the Disappointed Boyfriend look.
"I told you that you could ask me if you needed a break." Loki looks sheepish for a second, but quickly straightens out. Mobius is used to this game; his partner is quite the professional at feigning indifference. He doesn't budge, though, and waits for a response.
"I didn't need a break," Loki speaks slowly, as if considering every word. "I am not as unwell as I have been. It is overwhelming… but not overly so." He casts Mobius a gentle look. Mobius' arms drop to his side, and he quirks a small smile toward Loki.
"I'm proud of you, you know?"
Loki's eyes widen and he blinks a few times, seeming surprised. It takes another moment before his lover responds, and when he does, his voice wobbles slightly, "Whatever for?"
Mobius simply shakes his head, unable to put his thoughts into words. He leans forward to capture Loki's lips in an adoring kiss. Loki melts against him, one arm coming forward and a hand reaching up to rest against Mobius' cheeks. Mobius tilts his head into the touch. It takes almost all his willpower to pull away.
"I'm proud," he pauses to give Loki another forceful kiss, "that you're trying. Even though it scares you." His thoughts shift, this time to a scared little boy out in the cold, and as always, protectiveness floods him. He tugs Loki into a hug, unable to let go.
He can feel Loki smile against his shoulder. "Thank you, Mobius," he offers, voice shy. "I would not have been able to do it without you."
Mobius pulls back somewhat so that he can look Loki directly in the eyes. Loki avoids eye contact, as usual, but Mobius moves one arm so his fingers can delicately grip Loki's chin, turning his head and holding it in place so their gazes meet.
"You could have. You just doubt yourself too much, Kitten."
"I am not so sure," Loki inclines his head with an apologetic smile, "but I appreciate your words, Mobius. I believed I was promised tea?"
Mobius can't help the laugh that escapes his lips at the blatantly obvious attempt to change the subject. He doesn't object, leaves Loki's grasp to go grab mugs for each of them. "What kind? We've got green, chamomile… ah, peppermint, I think?" He grabs a container of loose leaf tea, takes a whiff, and sneezes. "And hibiscus."
"Peppermint will do, thank you." Mobius will never grow tired of Loki's formalities. He reckons it comes from growing up as a prince of Asgard. He grabs a bag of peppermint tea for Loki, as well as a bag of green tea for himself. He's really more of a coffee guy, but Loki looks pleased with himself everytime Mobius has tea instead, and he can't bring himself to hurt Loki's rather fragile feelings.
Once their tea is done, mugs placed carefully in the sink so they won't accidentally break later, they head back outside.
He can't help being distracted, watching Loki once again toss the snow directly into the neighbors driveway. There's a mischievous glint in Loki's eyes, and Mobius is sure he would never have noticed if he weren't in love with him.
He's glad he's learned to notice the little things, even if it takes him a while to notice the more obvious things (such as the fact Loki had clearly been apprehensive of the snow for weeks).
He'll learn, and if he's lucky… maybe Loki will, too.