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Chapter Text

Sweat drips down Loki’s temple as he plays the last chord of the song. His chest moves up and down slowly as he catches his breath. The crowd is like a string of a piece that would be part of a distinctive song. Loki revels in their shouts, their claps, their screeches of appreciation. Some women with front-row seats shout their regards (quite persistently) and Loki throws a wink for their troubles. 

It’s not the biggest stadium in Los Angeles, but it seems so with the pack of people squeezing into the space in front of the stage. Loki’s grin is not forced, not at all. He embraces the praise of fans, the excitement they radiate. It’s glorious. 

He takes one last bow, blows a kiss to his supporters, then walks off the compact stage. A staff member he doesn’t care to know the name of hands him a rag and he wipes the sweat off his forehead, still striving to maintain a steady breathing. 

He makes his way to his dressing room, the small space lit up with the bulging lights of the mirror. He takes a seat, flickering his eyes to his reflection. 

He looks worn out, but completely and utterly exhilarated. He runs a hand through his raven hair, languidly leaning back in his chair. 

After releasing his first album two years ago, he’s finally gotten the audience he deserves, especially after such hard work. Now, after releasing his second album, his manager decided to move him on to bigger things in the industry. 

Starting his music career in England, he moved to the United States to obtain a true profession with the help of his manager. 

After playing at several concerts in LA, Loki has gained the popularity he’s craved for. He’s relieved he doesn’t have to live in his brother and father’s shadow. For years he’s been known as Thor and Odin’s relative and never for the pieces of music he’s been wanting the world to take notice of. On top of that, it’s been leaked that he’s adopted. The Black Sheep of the Family, as most articles would describe him as. Loki’s father being a classic rock star and his brother being the same thing, gaining popularity from collaborative concerts with him, have left Loki in the dust several times. 

But that is the situation no longer. Loki is not their shadow, he is finally in the sun. However, his brother and father have made no move to embark on collaborative shows with him, which Loki is also fine with. He’s done with trying to receive his father’s approval. He doesn’t need it when he’s developed an audience. 

As he thinks this, he catches himself glaring at his reflection. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts from his mind. 

The door bangs open and Sylvie walks in unannounced. “Now that was a show,” she compliments too loudly to Loki’s liking. 

“I could say the same for you,” Loki returns, crossing one leg over the other as he studies her. “I’ve never seen you so enthusiastic to work for me.”

“I do not work for you,” she growls, stepping behind him to observe her reflection as she fixes her disheveled blonde hair. 

Loki grins at her headstrong comeback. Sylvie has been Loki’s drummer since the start. At first, she was only working with him to make ends meet. Without comment on the matter, she’s stayed with him, which Loki silently admits he’s grateful for. 

After Sylvie, in walks Casey, their new pianist. It seems as if he’s always walking around with his electric piano wrapped around his shoulder. To Loki’s surprise, he’s genuinely talented at what he does. His expression is of pure elation. “Wow… that was- that was amazing,” he comments in wonder. 

Sylvie hums. “Wasn’t it just,” she agrees, though Loki catches the dryness of her voice. 

Casey continues, not seeming to notice, “Please keep me on, Mr. Laufeyson-”

“Loki,” Loki corrects with a roll of his eyes. 

“Please keep me on, Loki,” Casey tries again. 

“I’m obviously going to keep you on, Casey. Your skills are fairly decent.”

Casey’s eyes widen in glee. “Really?”

“Yes, yes. Now don’t you have some sort of celebration to attend? It is your first concert.”

“Well… I haven’t thought of that-”

“I’m sure there’s something,” Loki says.

Casey smiles widely. “Oh my God, I need to call my mom!” With that, he runs out of the dressing room. 

Sylvie sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “Wait until he figures out the horrors of the music industry. Someone should warn him.”

“Not it,” Loki says, standing to shrug off his leather jacket. 

“Are you going to celebrate tonight?” Sylvie asks with a quirk of her brow. 

Loki smirks. “Maybe.”

“Oh, don’t be vague. Come on, tell me.”

“You’re not going to like my answer.”

At that statement, Sylvie rolls her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re spending time with that idiotic journalist.”

Loki huffs. “Your opinion is not needed.”

“Loki.” Sylvie’s voice has a hint of worry. “You’re not this dull. He’s a journalist, for Christ’s sake. He will turn on you.”

Loki has heard Sylvie’s concerns time and time again. Brad is not the most ideal person to have a relationship with, but it’s not anything extremely serious. Hookups are hookups. They spend time together to wash off the lonesome nature of the industry. Loki will admit that he takes advantage of his popularity. Many have the desire to get with him and that allows him to have company from time to time. 

But each morning, when the intimate part is over, either Loki leaves or his partner leaves. Again… never anything serious. 

And Loki’s fine with that. He is. 

Why does he have to keep repeating that to himself? 

Brad has been there since the beginning. They met at a club when Loki was going through the most difficult stage of his career and he kept him company. It went on from there, and now he and Brad have been doing this for… a while. 

“I still remember that night,” Sylvie says, her eyebrows creased. “When I saw him shouting at you, putting you down.”

Loki’s sigh is drawn out. He wishes she didn’t have to bring up that occurrence whenever she’s attempting to make a point about this situation.

“He’s not good for you, Loki. He-”

“Damn it, I know!” Loki snaps, turning to her. “Stop treating me like I’m some naïve animal. I’m not.” 

“I’m not saying you are,” Sylvie snaps back, her eyes turning to frustration. “I’m saying that he’s only with you to fuck you. He’s taking advantage of you in the worst way possible.”

“God, just shut up,” Loki murmurs, grabbing his bag and putting it over his shoulder. “I don’t wish to have this conversation with you right now.”

“Loki-”

Before Sylvie can continue her argument, Loki slams the door behind him, making his way to the car that’s waiting for him. 

Finally arriving at his residence, Loki steps out of the vehicle, not bothering to thank his driver. He opens the large gates easily, pressing the correct numbers that fit the code on the pad. His home is substantial, two stories wide, and enough windows to fill the walls of the building. It overlooks the hills of California, the afternoon sunset hitting the white paint of the house. 

Once Loki is inside, he leans against the door with a long sigh. He looks around the spacious, empty living room, a pained feeling entering his chest. He doesn’t understand it and he doesn’t wish to. 

He takes a shower to wash off the aftereffects of a loud and thrilling concert. He’s already contacted Brad, sending him a short message that discreetly highlights the point of what he’s really looking forward to. Brad responded in kind, sending back a message with the same keenness. 

After a refreshing shower, Loki changes into a fitting t-shirt and tight jeans to add to the look he’s trying to convey. Just as he’s spraying on a nice scent of cologne (Layton Eau De Parfum), the doorbell rings.

Loki can’t help but feel slightly eager whenever he prepares for a night with Brad. Even though it’s quick and sometimes dull, it scrapes off the edge of the emptiness he feels. 

Brad has expressed that he feels the same way. They’ve shared special moments together, and maybe that’s why Loki contacts him more frequently. 

Loki has made sure not to attempt to make their relationship into anything more. Though Loki can’t deny the fact that he’d like something more with someone… anyone, he’s never tried. 

Well, he has once. 

Loki didn’t know what he was thinking that night when he asked Brad if he’d like to do something else other than sleep together, maybe dinner at a luxurious restaurant on the high end of town. 

Brad did not respond in kind. 

He laughed, practically cackled, and listed the reasons why he’d never go out with someone like Loki.

“I’m sorry, but you? Loki, you’re the last person I’d have dinner with. You’re so dramatic, so unnecessarily dependent. I’m sorry, but it’s just not gonna happen. And I think you already know that.”

That’s the part that Sylvie saw. Loki had never felt so ashamed, so embarrassed. What was he thinking? 

Shaking off the memory, Loki walks across the hall and to the entrance. He sucks in a breath, then opens the door. 

What he sees makes his eyes widen considerably. 

Not only Brad is standing there, but a crowd of people behind him is as well. Loki is speechless, shock striking his core. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” Brad whispers as he steps toward him with a shrug. “Just wanted to celebrate your performance tonight. Thought I’d invite a few of my friends.” He grins. “Don’t worry. They’re with me. They won’t say anything.”

Loki can already tell these aren’t a few of his friends. 

He doesn’t know where Brad found these people, and he doesn’t wish to know. 

Loki swallows, shifting in place. Yes, he adores going to parties after concerts or on any other special occasion… or no occasion at all, but he doesn’t want that tonight. 

He wants it to be just him and Brad. 

On top of that, he knows his manager would kill him if she knew a ton of people who she has no information of partied at Loki’s home. 

This can lead to the possibility of him having a bad reputation. 

And in all honesty, Loki could care less. 

Whatever. He’s worn out and in need of a drink. 

“Uh- alright,” is all Loki says. He steps aside. “Come on in.”

Brad laughs, clapping his hands as he turns to the crowd of people. “Let’s get our shit on!” he shouts, and the crowd of strangers cheers. 

This is going to be a long night. 

Loki doesn’t even know what drink he’s on, but he can certainly feel that he’s far beyond a little tipsy. 

His home is congested with people Brad is apparently affiliated with, people either making out against the wall or dancing with the music that’s playing on the speakers. Others are out in the pool, making due in Loki’s extensive backyard.

Why did Loki agree to this? He doesn’t even know. 

Brad comes to sit on the sofa with him, a drink in his hand. He nudges Loki’s shoulder, barking out a laugh. “See? Told you this would be fun.”

Loki’s too exhausted to roll his eyes at the statement. Fun isn’t exactly the word. People are practically trashing his home, which he takes pride in keeping clean. And his closet. 

Oh, his closet. His clothes. 

Did he lock his bedroom door?

“Yes. Fun,” Loki spits, taking another sip of his drink. 

“Oh, come on.” Brad grins. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

Loki gives him a really? look. “You invited a pile of imbeciles into my home.” He feels his eyes getting increasingly droopy. “You… my house. My clothes.” Loki huffs. “Ravonna is going to strangle me…”

“Your manager?” Brad tuts. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No,” Loki denies. “No. I’m only commenting about the… the fact.”

Brad laughs, squeezing his thigh, which Loki wrinkles his nose at in disgust. Why is he disgusted by that? He shouldn’t be…right?

“Well, I can take your mind off it,” Brad says suggestively, leaning closer. “Come on, let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

Loki makes a noise of complaint and stands. “No… I’m going to… go to outside,” he informs, stumbling out of the living room. 

“What?” Brad asks bemusedly, standing with him. “Loki, what are you-”

“Shhh,” Loki shushes him, putting a finger up. “Outside.”

Loki staggers outside, feeling the night air hit his face. He observes the abundance of people partying around the pool and scowls, almost tripping over his own feet. 

A gasp from beside him sounds and he turns his head to find an overly enthusiastic girl, watching him with wonder. “Oh my God,” she voices. “I am such a fan.”

Loki nods in response. “You thank- I mean, yes. Thank you.”

She giggles, taking out her phone. “God, I’m so happy I was invited to this party, but mostly surprised, honestly, and-”

“Mhm. Yes. Give me a moment.” Loki makes his way to the diving board, stepping on top of it, the tile cool under his feet. He clears his throat, raising his arms in the air. “Everyone! May I have your attention undivided!”

The blasting music decreases in volume and everyone stops their conversations, eyes focusing on Loki. 

“Thank you,” Loki slurs in approval. “I am happy that you could all make it tonight, even though I know absolutely none of you!” Loki laughs at his own statement, everyone following with awkward chuckles. “Anyway, I just want to make myself… known. I am ready to party.” He chuckles, unable to make out the reaction of all who are watching him as his thoughts become increasingly fuzzy. “I AM LOKI AND I AM BURDENED WITH GLORIOUS PURPOSE!”

He takes another step forward and before he can react, his foot slips, and into the water he goes. 

Everything turns black. 

When Loki first awakens, he notices his head pounding as if something is banging his brain from the inside. He groans in complaint, shifting on the sofa which he’s sprawled out on. 

“Well, look who’s awake,” an arid voice says in front of him. 

Loki’s eyes snap awake, which he instantly regrets as his head pounds mercilessly. He winces and squints an eye open instead, receiving a blurry vision of Ravonna sitting in a chair in front of him. 

Oh. He’s in trouble. 

“Ravonna,” Loki murmurs in greeting, trying to keep his tone cheerful to hide the fear creeping in his chest. “How are you, darling?”

“I’m doing pretty shit right now, thanks,” she replies with a snarl, crossing her arms. “I have to deal with an immature prick.”

Loki would bite back if he weren’t so hungover. “It won’t happen again.”

Ravonna glares, pulling out her phone from her pocket. She taps on a video and plays, showing it to Loki. 

Loki watches himself declaring his glorious purpose on the screen, then falling into the pool. He winces, but now for an entirely different reason. He sighs, burying his face into the pillow, unable to watch himself for another moment. “Not my fault.”

“And how, pray tell, is this not your fault?” Ravonna demands, throwing her phone on the table. “You let in a shit ton of people who you don’t even know. Then, you decide to get intoxicated, then, you decide to say some bullshit before falling into your own pool.”

Loki has no answer, squishing his cheek to the pillow as he looks at Ravonna. “It won’t happen again,” he repeats. 

Ravonna groans in frustration. “I’m getting you an agent,” she states, standing and grabbing her phone to type something. 

To this, Loki sits up quickly, trying to ignore his headache. “What?” 

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“Ravonna,” Loki growls, a scowl forming his lips. “You promised me I didn’t have to deal with another agent.”

“I did no such thing,” she snaps back, turning to him. “I said you’d be without an agent for the time being and that was only because your last one quit. You need to maintain a reputation and I need someone to deal with you. I’m your manager, I’m not supposed to come down here every time you embarrass yourself. I’m being generous coming here to take care of your mess.”

“I am in no need of a babysitter-”

“Well, apparently you are because you almost died last night.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did. You’re lucky there were people there to get you out of that pool when you fell in, Loki. Jesus Christ.”

Loki huffs, flopping back onto the sofa. “I am not getting an agent. My last one was tiresome.”

Ravonna sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “An agent will help you gather a schedule. You’ve been lazy these past few months, Loki.”

“You can’t make me get an agent,” Loki returns. 

“Can’t I?” Ravonna says. “You’re getting an agent and I will make sure it will be a damn good one to keep you in check.” 

“I don’t need one. I haven’t gone anywhere besides LA in… I don’t even know how long.”

Ravonna snorts. “Yeah, well that’s changing soon.”

Loki quirks a brow, curiously flickering his eyes toward her. “What?”

“Three considerable music festivals are being held in three major cities and the administrators have specifically requested you to attend and play at the festivals.”

Loki’s eyes widen at the information. Music festivals? Oh, that’s something else entirely.

Festivals lead to popularity and popularity leads to tours. This could be good, this could be very good. Playing at festivals which are known worldwide can allow him to gain appreciation from more fans, and even get him interviewed by well-known talk show hosts. Loki doesn’t remember the last time Thor has attended a music festival. 

“But if you are going to attend these festivals, I need you to have an agent, Loki,” says Ravonna, her eyes strict. “Whichever agent you have will make sure your reputation is clean.”

“So a babysitter,” Loki claims dryly. 

“Exactly,” Ravonna says, no shame found in her voice. 

Loki groans, refraining from throwing a pillow at his manager. “This is ridiculous! I will not allow this.”

Ravonna barks a laugh that makes Loki’s chest burn with fury. “Right. Whatever you say.”

“I will not participate in this search,” he threatens. 

“Even better,” Ravonna proclaims. “Your input will only slow me down.” She grabs her purse, then points a thin finger at Loki. “You’ve humiliated your career and mine. The least you can do is accept your fate.” With that, she disappears from the living room. Loki can hear the front door shut and he’s surprised one of his windows don’t shatter at the force of it. 

Loki has never been one to accept his fate. And he won’t this time, no matter the circumstance. 

Chapter Text

When Mobius’s cognitive function begins to make sense as he awakens, he already knows it’s going to be one of those days where his eyes will have trouble staying open. 

He plants his face into the pillow for a few moments before deciding he should probably make due with another day that’s given to him. He sits up, staring at the white wall of his bedroom as he contemplates what he has to get done today.

He’ll probably have to go down to the studio, make sure everything’s going as planned. As a side job of sorts, he’s helping a crew get an album done for a growing favored musician. He supposes it’s a decent gig. Okay, really decent. It pays well and the people at the studio are friendly. It’s refreshing, actually. 

Years of being an agent for stuck up Hollywood celebrities have tired him out. For months he hasn’t had another job as an agent, and it’s been a nice break. However, he can’t deny the fact that he misses the qualities of having a busy schedule. It kept him away from his thoughts. 

Now, all he does is contemplate. 

Mobius doesn’t care to think about himself too much. It brings him down.

So, a job at a local studio is just what he needs. He’s grateful, really. 

He stands and stretches, rubbing his face to wipe off the remaining particles of sleep. He goes to his window and opens the curtains, a view of New York City coming into place. The area he lives in isn’t the best, but the Italian food market down the street makes up for it. 

Mobius can’t say that he loves living in the city, but again, it keeps him occupied. Also, work is good here. 

If it were up to him, however, he’d live somewhere with a lot of land, maybe own some cattle.

But living by himself doesn’t sound pleasant either. At least a city like New York has people everywhere you go. Mobius also has a liking for people watching, always finding the human mind far too interesting to ignore.

Tapping the window, he makes his way to the bathroom. As he looks in his reflection, he rubs a hand across his jaw, deciding he needs a shave to get rid of the extra stubble. 

After shaving (only leaving his mustache, of course) and taking a cool shower to wake him up, he decides to change into a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Summer’s here, so maybe he’ll go take his own vacation. Maybe somewhere in California. 

After changing, he goes into the cramped kitchen in search of food. 

The last few months have been the same routine. Wake up, shower, eat, go to the studio, make ideas on how to better a particular song they’re working on, then have the rest of the day to himself.

Mobius turns on the TV, sitting on the couch, the old furniture creaking as he does so. He crosses a leg and eats his cereal as he absentmindedly watches ABC News.

The reporter has just finished discussing current politics, Sam Wilson running for Senator again. Then, she goes on to entertainment.

“Loki Laufeyson is making his new break by attending the Paradise Festivals this year. This young musician has made it known that he is going to fulfill his career by spreading more of his music around the globe,” she informs. “The Paradise Festivals are going to occur in New Orleans, Miami, and Sam Francisco. Make sure to get your tickets!”

Mobius huffs a laugh at the televised reporter. “Sure, tickets that cost more than $300, no thank you,” he mumbles to himself. 

Just then, his phone goes off. He sees who it is and grins, answering it. “O.B.! I’ll be there in a sec, okay?”

“Mobius! Uh- you might want to be here in less than a second,” he replies timidly. 

“What? Why?”

This time, he whispers, “A scary woman is here to see you.”

Mobius furrows his brows. “Scary woman?”

“Just come quickly!”

“Okay, okay,” he assures, standing and going to the kitchen to put his dish away. “I’ll be there soon.”

Mobius hangs up the phone and grabs his jacket, heading out the door and stepping down the stairs of his apartment as quickly as he can. 

When Mobius steps into the recording studio, O.B. is there to bombard him. 

“Thank goodness you’re here!” he says, his eyes big and round under his glasses. “She’s been standing there for the better part of an hour, and she’s really scaring me, Mobius.”

“Alright, alright, it’s fine,” Mobius says as he pats O.B.’s back. He can be a bit over dramatic at times, so Mobius tries not to take a lot of what he says into consideration. “I’ll come back in one piece.”

Mobius walks into the control room, finding a woman dressed in a sensible suit, her curly hair tamed in a tight bun. The room is silent, everyone eyeing her warily as they attempt to continue focusing on their technical responsibilities. Once her eyes flicker to Mobius, she walks toward him with a tight smile, extending her hand. 

“Mobius. M. Mobius. For some reason, you’re a difficult man to get a hold of,” she greets as Mobius takes her offer of shaking her hand.

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t have many contacts and I kind of ignore unknown callers,” Mobius admits. “Anyway, who are you, may I ask?”

“Ravonna Renslayer,” she says, taking back her hand. “I’m a manager in the music industry. Or, show biz, as they like to say.”

Mobius nods. “Ah.”

“I have a job opportunity for you.”

Mobius sucks in a breath, pointing to the break room. “Mind if we talk privately?”

“Certainly,” she agrees. 

Once Mobius shuts the door behind him, he knows the others are probably trying to listen in from the outside. Mobius sighs, running a hand through his cut gray hair, trying to keep a pleasant atmosphere. But he can’t deny that O.B. was correct about the fact that she’s quite intimidating. “So, what’s this about?”

“As I said, a job opportunity,” she says. “Are you familiar with who Loki Laufeyson?”

Mobius tilts his head. “The musician?”

“Precisely,” she confirms. “I’m his manager.”

Mobius nods, this time in understanding. “I see.”

“Mr. Laufeyson is getting more well-known by the day. However, this can cause some issues, especially since most are watching his every move, and he must keep a decent reputation,” she explains. “The Paradise Festivals are coming up soon, and he needs an agent.”

Mobius blinks at her. “Ms. Renslayer, with all due respect, I hope you’re not recommending me.”

“Mobius, I am,” she says, quirking a brow. “Is that a problem?”

“I’ve left that career behind me,” Mobius tells her. “Work at this studio has been good for me. More my paste.”

Ravonna sighs. “Listen, I hear you’re the best of the best, and trust me, I need the best for Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sure there are a whole lot of agents besides me who’d be happy to take the job,” Mobius tries.

“There are,” she confirms. “But I’m certain none of them could handle the task.”

Mobius huffs a laugh. “Come on, he can’t be that bad.”

To this, Ravonna chuckles, her smile forced. “Oh God, I wish that were true. That would make my life a whole lot easier.” She gives him a look of pity. “No, he’s quite the handful. But, I can promise you the job pays well.”

Mobius stands there, the groaning of the vending machine the only noise in the room. He could always use the money, that’s for sure. And Mobius admits that he misses the aspects of the job. 

“It won’t be permanent,” Ravonna reassures. “Only for the majority of the summer, during the Paradise Festivals. I’d like it if you were to accompany him. Then, after he’s secured his reputation, we’ll find him a more permanent agent.”

“So… it’d only be for the time being?”

“Yes. And I’ll make sure you’re well off after,” she promises. “Listen, my job description doesn’t require me to constantly look after Mr. Laufeyson, but here I am.” She exhales a long breath. “One more client. That’s all I ask.”

Mobius’ mind scatters itself as he thinks. One more client can’t hurt. And it’s only for the summer, during the festivals. He can handle that. 

“Sure. Yeah, I’ll take the job,” says Mobius, nodding. 

“Great!” she praises, a full, genuine smile now filling her lips. “You’ll need to meet Mr. Laufeyson soon. I’ll set up a meeting and get a flight arranged for you to go to LA.”

“LA?”

“We’ll get everything situated there.” She pulls out her phone, typing something. Mobius suspects her eyes are on that screen nine times out of ten. “What, you didn’t think I was here just to see you, did you? While I do appreciate your work, I have my own business to attend to in the city.” She sucks in a breath, seeming incredibly tired all of a sudden. “I’m a busy woman.”

Mobius huffs a dry laugh. “I can see that.”

“Everything will be organized for you, so don’t worry about a thing,” Ravonna guarantees. “I’ll send you more information soon.” 

Mobius shakes her hand, his head spinning with so much information in so little time. “Yeah. Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she says with a tight smile, then is out of the room in a flash. 

Once she leaves, Mobius lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. While his mind is still catching up with what’s just been offered to him, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of excitement on what’s to come. He’s been wanting to travel for the summer, and this is the perfect opportunity to do so. Not to mention getting his old job back, plus good pay. What’s not to love?

 Renslayer mentioned the fact that Mr. Laufeyson’s a handful, but that’s all celebrities Mobius has dealt with. A handful and imperious. Mobius likes to pride himself with the fact that he’s pretty good with people. Especially difficult ones. 

~•~•~•~

(One Week Later)

Brad pins Loki against the cushion of the seat, his lips hungrily catching his. Tonight, Loki finds himself in the back of Brad’s vehicle in a dim alleyway in what is most definitely not the best part of LA, but it will do. 

Loki’s just finished an interview with an entertainment company. A big deal, really. Stress has gotten to him this week and he needs an outlet. Brad was available. 

Brad groans into the kiss, riding Loki’s shirt up halfway. “Damn, I’ve missed this.”

Loki is usually one to reply with the same sentiment, but he can’t seem to find the words. Or more like, if he were to reply with the same eagerness, it would be false. So he only hums in acknowledgment and captures Brad’s lips to distract himself. 

The radio plays in the background, an older piece of music. Loki recognizes a hint of Freddie Mercury.

Brad pulls on Loki’s hair, and Loki clenches his fist against the seat, fighting a sneer of disgust. 

Why is he feeling like this?

Is it just not his night? Why is he feeling such… revulsion?

Brad’s hands grip Loki’s waist, trailing down to lower regions. Brad’s breath is heavy against Loki’s lips, then they trail down to his neck, kissing the skin there in eagerness. 

His hands stoop lower. 

Loki doesn’t think he can handle it. 

“Stop,” Loki demands, pushing against Brad’s shoulders. 

Brad pulls away, furrowing his brows. “What?” 

“I’m just- I’m not feeling it tonight,” Loki says, sitting up and going to grab his jacket from the floor. 

Brad scoffs, snatching his jacket before he can. Loki’s scowl is instant. “Come on, I’m just trying to have a good time. What’s with you?” Brad questions. 

“I’m tired,” Loki excuses himself. “I don’t feel I have the capacity for anything more tonight. Give me back my jacket. It’s quite expensive.”

“You’ve never turned something down,” Brad says, giving him a look of suspicion. He leans in again, mouthing at Loki’s jaw. 

Loki huffs and pushes him away, retrieving his jacket from Brad’s hand. “I said no,” Loki says. “Not tonight.”

He opens the door and steps out of Brad’s car, into the cool night. Brad is there right behind him. “Come on! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Loki rolls his eyes, turning to him. “I don’t wish to participate in any form of intimacy tonight. Do I really have to dumb it down for you?” 

“I’m just trying to make sense of it,” Brad says, glaring. “What, is there someone else?”

Loki barks a laugh. “Please, you know I can’t bear commitment.”

“Then what is it?”

“It was nothing at first, but it’s starting to be you .”

“Me?”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Loki asks, shrugging on his jacket. 

“Because I’ve had a pretty fucked up week and I need you,” Brad snaps, his voice rising.

“Oh, that’s all you use me for. Sex. Can’t we just-”

“No. We can’t.” Brad scoffs, putting a hand through his hair. “What, you wanted to do something else?”

Loki swallows, shaking his head. “No, I-”

“You did,” Brad concludes, laughing deeply. “God, didn’t we go over this already?”

Loki feels a chill run down his spine. He wasn’t suggesting anything else, really. 

But it would have been nice. 

“To everyone else you’re heartless,” Brad says, a cruel grin on his lips. “But you’re just desperate.”

Loki clenches his jaw, humiliation burning in his chest. He didn’t want this night to end like this. With him feeling embarrassed and overall a person of little worth. Loki releases a breathy exhale. He begins to walk away, not wanting to spare more words that would be of no help. 

Before he can get too far, however, Brad grabs his hand, pulling him close. “I wasn’t finished talking,” he sneers. 

His hands feel grimy now. Loki has authorized it as an unwanted touch. It clicks in his brain that he’s gaining nothing from this relationship. What did he think it was going to progress to?

 He shouldn’t have hoped. 

“Let go of me,” Loki orders. 

Brad inhales deeply. “Okay. Okay, you know what? I’m sorry.” His grip tightens. “Let’s just go back in the car and talk.”

“I said let go of me!” Loki pushes him away, his body shivering from the touch. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” he says, glowering. “I want rid of you.” With that, Loki turns and walks away in long strides. 

“The fuck?!” Brad yells after him. “Loki! Come on, I can’t lose you! Loki!”

Loki doesn’t know how far he’s walked until Brad’s words fade out. He tries to refrain from shedding tears, but they well up in his eyes. He wipes them, leaning against a graffitied wall as he attempts to gain control of himself, his wave of emotions. Why is he saddened by this encounter? It’s for the best, it must be. 

Brad is a prick and Loki realizes that he can’t put up with someone who’s obviously using him for sex and fame.

Loki doesn’t like to be used. 

His phone rings and he huffs in annoyance, pulling out the device and putting it to his ear. “What?”

“Where are you?” Ravonna’s voice asks from the other line. 

“None of your concern.”

“I have someone I want you to meet. I need to know where you are so that your driver can pick you up,” she explains. 

“Leave me be.”

“Loki.”

Loki sighs, rubbing his eyes to discard any remaining tears. He attempts not to sniffle. He’ll be damned if he allows Ravonna to find out the reason he’s crying. “Who am I meeting?”

“Uh- someone. Just someone.”

“I have no interest in meeting this someone.”

“Loki. This is an order from your boss. Tell me where you are.”

Loki clenches his fist, his nails digging into his skin. “Downtown.”

“Jesus Christ. What are you doing there?”

“None of your concern!” he snaps. 

“Whatever. I’ll have your driver come pick you up in five.”

Ravonna hangs up and Loki can’t help but hold up the device in front of his face, flipping off the screen in silent reprimand. 

The car pulls up to a fanciful café on the high end of town. Its windows are clear and fairy lights surround the door, vines adding to the ambiance. 

He stays in the vehicle for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. He feels sorrow, of all things. Sorrow mixed with resentment. Resentment of himself or Brad, he doesn’t know. He almost regrets storming away from Brad, but the memory of his hands wandering his body still disgusts him, which surprises him. Loki doesn’t have an idea of what’s gotten into him, but he suspects it’s the fact that it’s practically Brad’s fault his reputation got ruined. He brought those strangers to his home without his permission, which caused Loki’s stressed mind to spike and he drank and he made an absolute fool of himself. 

In all honesty, Loki has never been particularly fond of Brad. Loki just had the patience (another surprising thing) to put up with the man. That’s all. 

Deciding that he’s done moping, he steps out of the vehicle and walks up the pavement. He opens the door, a little bell ringing in the process. The scenery is typical of a café, the tables round, and since it’s a late night, not many customers. 

“Loki.”

Loki turns and finds Ravonna staring at him with a disapproving look. “First you’re hanging out in a bad area, then you come into a public business without giving me warning? I’ve told you time and time again, when we’re meeting somewhere public, text me when you arrive so that I can arrange people to escort you in,” she hisses.

Loki grins. “How thoughtful of you to care for my well-being,” he gloats.

“If that makes you feel better,” she says dryly. “Come on. This way.”

She leads him to another entryway that follows into a more private corner of the café. They arrive at a table, away from the windows, and a man is already sitting there, leaning back in his seat and one leg crossed over the other leisurely. He looks up and Loki gets a good view of his face. 

Why is his heart beating faster?

He has deep blue eyes that look over Loki, making him feel utterly bare. His nose is slightly crooked and he has pouty lips that Loki refrains from imagining sucking on. 

Sucking on? 

Brad really has messed him up tonight. It’s just the grief of the end of Brad and his relationship. That’s it. That’s why he’s having these ludicrous thoughts.

The man’s hair is gray and short cut, his mustache seeming to fit his appearance so well, Loki can’t imagine him without one. 

But the thing that gets him is when the man smirks. Most are either awe-struck by Loki or too overwhelmed with annoyance to display anything but that specific emotion. 

However, this man seems anything but intimidated by Loki. He’s so nonchalant, Loki can’t decide if he wants to be fascinated or offended. 

“Loki, this is Mobius. Your new agent,” Ravonna says as she takes a seat.

Loki flips his head toward her, eyes wide. “I told you I don’t need an agent.”

“When have your demands ever limited me,” Ravonna asks with a quirk of her brow.

Loki scowls. “This is ridiculous, I-"

“I’m sensing a lot of tension here,” the man, whose name is apparently Mobius, speaks up. “Should we do this another time?”

“No,” Ravonna says, eyes never leaving Loki. “We are going to have this meeting, and Loki, you are going to sit down and order some tea to calm you down.”

Loki glares at her as he takes a seat, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t want tea.”

“Too bad.”

“Do you think they have key lime pie here?” Mobius asks, his eyes slightly illuminating at the idea. 

Ravonna stares at him for a moment, almost incredulously, then shakes her head. “I highly doubt it.”

“Thought so.”

“Can we please get on with business so that I can take my leave?” Loki asks. 

Ravonna sighs. “Mobius, meet Loki. Loki, meet Mobius.”

Mobius extends his hand. “Excited to be working with you,” he says in pleasantry.

Loki only stares at the man’s hand, but as Ravonna gives him a look, he rolls his eyes and caves in, shaking his hand. “Working for me,” he corrects.

Mobius chuckles, which catches Loki off guard, making his cheeks heat. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Loki can’t help but feel disappointed when Mobius takes away his hand.

“Mobius will accompany you to the festivals and arrange your schedule,” Ravonna explains. 

“I don’t need anyone to accompany me,” Loki sneers. “I’m fully capable of handling this trip on my own.”

Ravonna scoffs. “I can’t trust that you won’t fall into a pool again,” she provokes. 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never,” she admits with ease. “Anyway, three festivals will transpire, all called the Paradise Festivals. The first festival takes place in New Orleans. Then, you will travel to Miami, where the next festival is to occur. The last one is in San Francisco.” She eyes Loki. “And, yes, I’ve arranged your flights. Since you insist on that other than traveling by trailer.”

Loki gives her feigned innocent eyes. “You can hardly blame me.”

“I can and I will.” She takes a deep breath, obviously trying to control her temper. Loki smirks. “Mobius will organize your interviews and photo shoots. It’s important you keep a good reputation in the public eye, Loki. You’re on thin ice.”

Loki doesn’t say anything, only looks away stubbornly. 

“I’m sure everything will work out fine, Ms. Renslayer,” Mobius assures, voice calm. 

“Well, you don’t know Loki Laufeyson,” Ravonna says, scooting her chair out as she stands. “I’ll let you two get to know each other or whatnot.” She smiles, and this time it doesn’t seem forced. “Mobius, he’s all yours.” Her eyes settle on Loki. “Your driver will be waiting outside. No more adventures for you tonight.”

Ravonna slings her purse over her shoulder, then she’s out the door before both of them know it.

Mobius grabs one of the menus that are placed on the table, then scans it in judgment. “More cafés should have key lime pie, don’t you think?”

Loki leans forward dauntingly. “Let me make something clear,” he says in a low voice. “You are not to be my agent and-”

“Well, actually, I am your agent,” Mobius rectifies with amusement. “Paperwork’s been signed and everything.”

“I don’t care,” Loki dismisses. “I will not participate in any interview or useless event you assign me to.”

“I’m not gonna force you,” Mobius returns. “I’m only here to keep everything flowing smoothly.”

Loki practically seethes at this man’s unconcerned manner. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” He stands, his chair making a loud noise. “I suggest you resign from this job now. I’m not an easy person to deal with.”

The man only stares up at him with a glint that Loki almost classifies as teasing. “Neither am I.” He nods to the chair. “Wanna sit down so we can talk business like adults?”

Loki grits his teeth. “I will do no such thing.” 

Spinning around, he storms out the café, not caring how dramatic it may look. 

Chapter Text

Loki stares out the window of the plane, watching the distended clouds and blue sky. They should be arriving in New Orleans in a few hours, and Loki’s quite glad he’s a growing celebrity and able to acquire first-class seats. 

Loki’s whole music crew is on the flight as well. Sylvie is just a row down and Casey, who was extremely eager to get on a first-class flight, is a few seats behind him. 

The seat which he relaxes in is cushioned perfectly, and he’s been close to rest his eyes several times. Loki lets out a long sigh, debating if he should make use of the screen as a source of entertainment. But Loki can’t think of a film that would get his mind off the growing tension that’s building in his chest. While Loki wouldn’t say he’s nervous about the festival, he would say he’s pressuring himself to exceed his own expectations for this performance. This is different from his concerts in LA. The stadium will be bigger, it will be packed with more people than he’s used to. 

Loki can’t deny the fact that he’s excited. A sea of fans praising him?

 Yeah.

He doesn’t mind the change.

His father may give him a phone call as well after these performances. 

Not that he cares. Only a thought. 

His mind wanders to the fame he’s already received. After these festivals, he could skyrocket as a performer, and that’s certainly welcomed. Some more interviews with important figures and he’ll be at the top, without the help of his new agent. 

Loki is perfectly capable of constructing his own appointments. He doesn’t need the assistance from a bothersome man named Mobius. M. Mobius.

As Loki thinks about Mobius, he silently curses himself as his heart rate quickens. What is that man’s problem? Entirely unintimidated by Loki and since their first meeting occurred, Loki’s been wondering if the man is only doing this purely for entertainment. However, Loki also knows that the pay could be very promising. Something about the man’s demeanor has Loki admittedly interested. The way he was so laid back in the café, so… moderate. In this industry, it’s important to be competitive. This man doesn’t seem as if he’d hurt a fly. 

But then Loki saw another glint in Mobius’s dark eyes. The man was certainly experienced, certainly intelligent about the industry and what lies in it.  

Loki’s urge to study him is palpable. He needs to stop this idiotic thinking. He needs to focus. Mobius wishes to be cordial. Loki will not stand for that. He will show that man that he doesn’t need his help. 

Just as Loki is practically seething in his seat, a knock sounds against his compartment. Loki looks up, seeing Mobius look down at him with an inquiring expression. Loki scans the practical suit and tie he wears, ignoring the swirl in his stomach as the man stands over him. 

“You always glarin’ at everything you look at?” Mobius asks. 

Loki clenches his fist against his knee, then looks away. 

“See? Like that,” Mobius says. 

“What do you want?” Loki snaps.

Loki doesn’t miss the small smirk that’s displayed on Mobius’s lips. “I thought we’d talk about some of the appointments I’m thinkin’ about setting up for you,” Mobius suggests. 

“I can handle my own reputation, thank you very much,” Loki returns, crossing his arms. Mobius chuckles, and Loki flickers his eyes up to him. “What?”

“No. No, sorry. Don’t mind me. It’s just… I’ve read up on you and it seems you’ve had more than one incident in which you’ve ruined your reputation,” he explains. 

Loki clenches his jaw, remembering the admittedly many times he’s dented his own public persona. However, that’s all in the past. He can take care of himself now.

“My reputation is my reputation. Therefore, I can have it however I please,” Loki simmers. 

“That’s very true. But I’m sure you’re not exactly pleased with where it’s standing at the moment.”

“I very well am. My fans adore me,” Loki gloats. 

“That’s true too, but fans and entertainment companies are very different things. If you want to get some good interviews, you’re gonna have to keep yourself somewhat in line.” Mobius holds up a hand. “I don’t say entirely in line because you seem like a person who doesn’t fully like to keep himself in check. Which is fine.”

Loki finds himself staring up at the man in something close to awe. How is he so understanding? This isn’t possible. It’s… ludicrous. Ridiculous. “You… I- I still don’t wish for your help,” Loki says in determination. 

Mobius hums, bringing his hand up to rub his jaw. “If you give me a chance, you’ll see that I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Loki scoffs. “I highly doubt that.”

“I know what I’m doing. I’ve worked with difficult, stuck-up celebrities since the start.”

Loki scowls. “Like myself?”

Mobius chuckles. “To an extent. But…” He stares at Loki for a moment, seeming to contemplate. “I would classify you as more of a stubborn pussy cat.”

To this, Loki freezes. He almost wants to demand his cheeks to stop heating, knowing they’re turning flushed from the comment. His heart stumbles in his chest and his throat goes dry. 

No one has referred to him as… that before. Why is he becoming so… so bashful from such a simple, teasing statement?

“Anyway,” Mobius continues as if what he just said didn’t stop Loki’s heart, “if you really don’t wanna talk with me right now, I’ll let you get your beauty sleep.” 

With one last look into Loki’s eyes, the man leaves to go back to his seat. 

What the fuck?

Loki needs to get a hold of himself. This isn’t right. Mobius shouldn’t be having such an absurd effect on Loki—his agent of all people.

This has to stop. It will stop. Loki is sure of it. It’s just the overwhelming emotions about the new jump in his career. Yes. His mental state is not where he wishes it to be at the moment. 

It will pass in time.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Overall, the plane ride was pleasant, Mobius thinks. He rarely has the luxury of flying first class, so he was able to get in a good nap. He then had the chance to fill out some paperwork. 

Managing Loki’s schedule is, as anticipated, complicated. Mobius was thinking of getting in contact with an interviewer, maybe setting up an appointment, but he then thought better of it. Loki would have probably resisted attending anyway. On top of that, Mobius doesn’t wish to rush Loki’s success. If he’s going to schedule anything, he wants to get Loki’s input on it first. Loki may want nothing to do with him, but that won’t stop Mobius from considering them a team. 

And if Mobius were to be honest, he doesn’t mind going back and forth with the rock star. It’s almost adorable watching him bite back with words, while also noticing the fact that Mobius isn’t the least bit intimidated by him. 

After arriving in New Orleans, their drivers were waiting for them right as they got off, leading them across the crowded airport filled with food courts and gift shops. 

Several vehicles were awaiting the team since there was quite a lot of equipment to be settled. 

Even when in the same car as Loki, he didn’t once look at Mobius, only keeping his eyes to the window. Mobius didn’t exactly mind, so he kept his eyes to his window as well, admiring the beauty of the city of New Orleans. Colorful buildings, narrow streets full of people, architecture surrounded in culture; Mobius was enthralled by it all.

Now, they’ve just arrived at a luxurious hotel overlooking the Mississippi River. The resort is tall, it lighting up in the reflection of the growing sunset. 

Mobius gets out of the vehicle, the outside air a relief after being cooped up in a plane all day. Several bellhops come to arrange their luggage in a trolley, their driver assisting as well. 

Loki finally steps out of the vehicle, sunglasses on and a leather jacket that looks miserable in this weather. 

“Wow, hey, this place is great!” a man, who’s name Mobius catches is Casey, exclaims as he steps gets out of the vehicle beside them. 

“Calm down, don’t hurt yourself,” a woman says, who Mobius guesses is Sylvie.

Ravonna’s filled him in on a lot. 

Mobius walks to their driver, tipping him. “Thanks for the ride,” Mobius says, patting the man’s shoulder. 

The man looks genuinely grateful, smiling widely. “Thank you. Thank you, sir.”

“Hey, no problem. Stay safe out there.”

Just as Mobius turns around, he sees that Loki is already making his way into the hotel, his bellhop trying to keep up. Mobius snorts at the sight, then catches up with Loki to the front desk. 

The interior is decorated with a modern feel, white lights, and black couches making up the lounge area. 

The receptionist’s eyes light up as he talks to Loki, but the rock star pays no mind, grabbing the key card from the man’s hand and practically striding toward the elevator. 

If Mobius didn’t know any better, he’d say Loki’s trying to avoid him. 

Mobius gives the receptionist his name, receiving his key car. With no rush, he walks toward the elevator, his own bellhop following him in respectable silence. He gets to the front of three elevator doors and sees that Loki is still waiting, tapping his foot impatiently. 

Mobius grins. 

He stands next to Loki, waiting with him. Mobius looks up and sees that Loki’s already laying eyes on him. The rock star’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of rose, averting his eyes quickly. Once the golden doors of the elevator doors open, the bellhops step in first, bringing the trolleys of luggage with them. Then, Mobius and Loki step in. Their surroundings are only mirrors and pleasant elevator music plays in the silence. 

Mobius presses floor ten, then takes a peek at Loki. “Your floor?”

Loki’s sharp jawline clenches, and he sniffs. “Same here.”

Mobius nods, rolling his shoulders. “Nice coincidence.”

“‘Nice’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Loki murmurs. 

Mobius hums in response. 

None of them speak for a moment. 

Mobius speaks up. He can’t stand the awkward silence. “French Quarter might be fun to visit,” he says, eyes wandering the elevator. 

Loki sighs. “You can do whatever you please.”

“Always wanted to visit a jazz club,” Mobius continues, unbothered by Loki’s loathe. 

They finally arrive at their floor, and once the doors open, Loki is out before Mobius knows it, his bellhop trying to keep up. Mobius goes down the long corridor, and just down the end of it, Mobius hears a door shut rather harshly, not needing to see to know it’s Loki.

With a long sigh, he goes to his own room, opening the door with his key card. The bellhop attempts to go in with him, most likely to put his luggage away, but Mobius holds a hand in protest. 

“I’ve got it. Thank you.” He tips the young man, then takes his few bags and puts it in the room with him. After Mobius shuts the door, he slumps against it, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He should go to bed early tonight if he wants to have any sort of will to get up tomorrow. 

He pushes himself off the door and decides to get himself properly situated. The room is simple, with a queen-sized bed in the middle and a TV set up on the dresser. The window shows the outskirts of the city, displaying the river and the ships docked at the bay.

 As he folds his clothes, he feels his stomach rumble, realizing he hasn’t gotten a chance to eat all day. 

Deciding he can go without his suit jacket and tie, he heads down to the main lobby in search of a place to eat. 

As Mobius makes his way to the dining area, he admires the oil paintings presented on the walls, most using authentic colors to show the city and the nature that surrounds it. 

When he gets to the dining area, it’s busy with tourists enjoying their dinner, the long tables full of people eating delicious-looking food. Mobius spots Sylvie at the bar next to the dining area, and curiosity strikes him. His legs move towards her before he can stop himself. 

“Need some company?” he asks as he sits next to her. 

Her complex eyes flicker to him, and she shrugs, taking another sip of her drink. “If you insist.”

Mobius smirks, rubbing his neck tiredly. “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” she responds. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been out of town performance-wise.”

“You seem like a natural at this sort of thing.”

“I am,” she replies in confidence. “I’ve been a drummer practically my whole life.”

“Excited to see you play,” Mobius comments. 

“Are you?” she questions. 

“Sure. Loki wouldn’t keep you on if you weren’t talented.”

Sylvie scoffs, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t.” She studies him. “How are you holding up?”

Mobius shrugs nonchalantly. “Can’t complain.”

“Everyone has complaints about Loki,” she says, smirking.

Mobius whistles low and long. “That’s harsh.”

Sylvie stares at him, seeming genuinely perplexed. “What, so you’re fine with him?”

He shrugs. “Sure, he’s a tough cookie, but so are all celebrities.”

“Oh, so you’ve dealt with ones like him before,” she says in understanding. 

Mobius laughs incredulously. “Why’s everyone acting like he’s an inmate?”

“He practically is.”

“Well, I’m not gonna lock him up, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

She chuckles. “That’s what a lot of people would hope for.” There’s a long pause, Sylvie seeming to contemplate something. “Loki is… difficult, yes. But he’s also helped me through a lot.”

Mobius looks at Sylvie, showing her that he’s paying attention.

“He practically took me in when I was having trouble finding gigs,” she continues. “Told me I had potential. And ever since then… he’s been like a brother to me, I suppose.” She smiles fondly. “Which also means I tend to be a bit protective. But, of course, he never listens to me.” 

Mobius nods, chuckling. “Seems about right.”

“He just has to warm up to you,” she says. “He’s fun once you get to know him. Though, I think his harsh layers can make it difficult to see.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Mobius agrees.

Sylvie observes him. “Shame he doesn’t wish to get to know you. I feel like you two would get along.” 

Mobius eyes her with slight surprise. “Really?”

To this, she only smiles, standing from the stool and stretching her long body. “I think I’m going to turn in early,” she states. “All I can say is good luck.”

Right when she leaves the area, Mobius decides he may need a drink. 

After a full stomach and a drink to calm him down, Mobius goes back to his room, allowing himself to relish the long walk across the hotel and the corridors that follow. 

He stops mid-step, just before turning a corner to his door, when he sees Loki having technical difficulties with a vending machine. 

“Damn, come on,” Loki mumbles, banging on the machine in irritation. 

Mobius huffs a laugh, stepping forward. “Seems like you’re having some trouble here.”

Loki swishes his head to Mobius, scowling instantly. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“What’re you trying to get?” Mobius asks, looking over the various types of chip brands. 

“A bag of crisps.”

“Think I got that, but what kind?”

“The… potato ones.”

Mobius inhales a long breath. “Bland, but okay.” He sighs, tapping on the machine. When nothing happens, he pulls out a quarter from his wallet, placing it in the slat. It rumbles and, finally, the bag of chips falls gracefully. “There you go.”

Loki stares at him for longer than necessary, and Mobius catches himself getting lost in his eyes, the glint in them difficult to look away from. 

Loki nods, clearing his throat. “Uh- thank you.”

Mobius snaps out of his daze, nodding back. “No problem.”

Loki leans down to get his bag of chips, but just before he leaves to the sanctuary of his room, Mobius stops him. “Loki?”

Loki turns, looking at him with anticipation. 

Mobius shrugs, giving a small smile. “I’m not your enemy.”

Mobius hears Loki’s breath stutter. The musician doesn’t say anything in return and instead leaves to his room as quickly as he can. 

Mobius’s eyes travel downwards to Loki’s backside guiltily. He looks away briskly, feeling incredibly dirty for thinking such a way. 

Loki is his client. That’s all. Jesus, when did he become so unprofessional?

He’ll get Loki to like him one way or another. If Mobius were being honest, he’s taking this as a challenge of sorts. 

Loki’s incredibly stubborn, and Mobius would be lying if he said he disliked that quality about him. In fact, there are a lot of things Mobius finds enticing about the rock star. He’ll admit it. 

All he has to do is find a balance in their relationship, then he can go from there.

However, that can prove strenuous with a person like Loki Laufeyson. 

Chapter Text

“You know if you want to put on a decent performance, you’re going to have to focus,” Sylvie scolds, her fists gripping her drumsticks tightly. 

Loki flutters his eyes, coming out of his hazy mindset. He sighs, silently cursing himself. He’s been spacing out on and off during the whole rehearsal, and he know he needs to keep in the present. 

That’s difficult to do when a certain agent is constantly in his mind. 

The festival grounds is in a long field of grass, the city behind the abundance of trees. It’s odd to see such a spacious area so empty. It’s early morning and Loki is not an early riser. 

“Apologies,” Loki says, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose I didn’t get as much sleep as I’d like.”

“All of us haven’t,” Sylvie reminds him, gesturing to all the extra performers and musicians on stage. Loki admits that he only really knows Sylvie and Casey, only because they’re his main backup players. “But that doesn’t stop us from keeping our shit together.”

“You know, we’ve been rehearsing for a few hours,” Casey speaks up, “and my fingers get tired from playing too much. Also, I barely had any breakfast and-”

“Okay, we get it,” Sylvie snaps. “That’s enough for today.”

Everyone on stage looks at Loki for the okay, and he nods, not daring to disagree with Sylvie. 

Everyone gathers their equipment and scrambles off the stage, eager to take a rest after a tiring morning of rehearsals. There’s a peak of sun through the clouds and it gracefully shines on the stage, the shadows slowly fading away. Seeing such a vast space is thrilling, to say the least. It’s even more thrilling thinking about the actual performance. It will exceed the concerts he’s experienced time and time again these past few years. The lights will be brighter, the music will boom across the city. 

Mobius will obviously be there. 

Not that he cares. Just a fact that’s constantly running through his brain. 

“Loki, what the fuck is going on with you?” Sylvie’s voice cuts into his thoughts. 

Loki rolls his eyes, kneeling down to put his guitar in his case. It’s the one thing that keeps him leveled. It’s a dark red that’s the color of blood and it’s electric, causing it to have such a powerful tone to it. “I have no idea what you mean,” Loki denies.

“Stop bullshitting me,” Sylvie flares, walking towards him. “You weren’t with us today. You’re always with us.”

“Like I said, I’m tired,” Loki reminds her, clicking his case closed. 

“I will hit you with my sticks if you don’t let up,” she threatens.

Loki rolls his eyes, standing to his full height. “I’d love for you to humor me so.”

“Uh- guys?” Casey interrupts. “I was wondering, we should do something tonight. I don’t know, I’d like to get to know the team more, and-”

“I have an event I’m going to tonight,” Loki says, no disappointment found in his voice.

“Oh. Tomorrow?”

“Interview.”

“With who?” Sylvie questions, crossing her arms. 

“Allegra de Fontaine. Ravonna set up the appointment,” Loki explains, not entirely excited about the arrangement. 

Sylvie narrows her eyes, forming a scowl. “She’s one of the most toxic interviewers in Hollywood.”

“Ravonna has been wanting me to do this interview for a year now. While she can be invasive, she’s surprisingly very well liked in the industry,” Loki says. 

“Mobius is your agent now,” Sylvie advises. “Ravonna is not.”

“Yes, but she insists. This is the last time she will interfere,” Loki asserts. “I must gain more views if I-“

“Jesus, Loki,” Sylvie interrupts. “Stop trying to please others, it’s killing you.”

Loki furrows his brows, staring at her in vexation. “I am not trying to please others. I’m doing this to maintain the reputation I desire.”

Sylvie scoffs. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She sighs, her eyes landing on Casey. “Come along, Casey. I feel sorry for your obvious lonesomeness and it’d be best if we leave Loki to his loathing.”

Sylvie makes her way off the stage, Casey following quickly. 

Loki rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore Sylvie’s trivial lecture. He’s not following Ravonna’s orders; he’s simply abiding by the professional advice Ravonna has provided for him. He will take the interview and he will go through with it, and hopefully, he will obtain something more competent in the industry. He’s moving up in his career, and he’s not backing down just because Sylvie tells him to. That would be following orders. 

After a surprisingly long drive across the city, he finally arrives at the hotel, craving a long nap more than anything.

The elevator dings and Loki steps out, taking a slow walk to his room. He can hardly keep his eyes open, but he supposes he should get used to the early mornings since-

Something bumps into Loki’s shoulder and he’s about to glare at the person who dares before he lays eyes on the person in question. 

“Well, what a coincidence,” Mobius says with a grin, looking Loki up and down deliberately. Loki can feel his neck heat at the way Mobius eyes him. Does he look at everyone this way? With undeniable hunger? If he does, Loki will certainly feel less significant… and a bit disappointed. “Rehearsal good?”

Loki nods. “Yes, uh- how did you know I was at rehearsal?”

“You look exhausted. Your voice is a little rough too.”

Loki touches his throat. “I suppose it is.”

Mobius hums, an impish glint in his eye. “Don’t worry. Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he notes, his voice dropping considerably.

Loki blinks at him. “What?” he practically whispers in disbelief. Had he heard right?

“Hey, listen, I wanted to talk about some of the appointments I have in mind,” Mobius proposes, as if he hadn’t just said something extremely suggestive. 

…

Wait, was it meant to be suggestive? Loki isn’t sure. 

“We haven’t been able to catch up… uh- at all, really,” Mobius says. 

“We have nothing to catch up on,” Loki tells him. 

Mobius squints an eye. “Yeah. We do. I need to do my job and arrange your schedule and I can’t do that if I don’t have your input. Make sense?”

Loki huffs. “I already told you, Mobius-”

“Wow, the rock star memorized my name, I’m flattered.”

“-I don’t wish to work with you,” Loki says, scowling down at the man. “I don’t even know why you’re still here.”

“Because I believe that you’ll come around eventually,” Mobius says, looking up at him with a laid-back grin. “I think I’m a pretty easy guy to like.”

“Think again,” Loki seethes, then swirls around and strides down the corridor. 

“Love chatting with you, pussy cat!”

Loki can not be blamed for flipping him off. 

Going to a party hosted by a man by the name of Stark is never a good idea. 

In Loki’s defense, he didn’t know it was going to be Stark hosting the party. He genuinely thought it was going to be a presentable business event.

Okay, he suspected a few drinks were to be involved, but not to this extent. So the fact that he is incredibly drunk at the moment is not his fault if he didn’t know this was a Stark event.

Flashing lights surround the area, the base of the music booms against the walls of the penthouse, and most of the alcoholic beverages that are displayed in cabinets are either half empty or there isn’t a drop left. The windows reveal New Orleans and the colors that go with it. 

The penthouse is located next to the various tourist attractions, in the heart of the city. If Loki were to step out into the balcony, he would hear distant music coming from other parties occurring in the quarter. 

He doesn’t know who’s dancing behind him or in front of him, but in all honesty, he doesn’t give a fuck. Tony only invites people of high class and high popularity, so if someone were to recognize Loki, he would only be seen as another attendee, and not an almost world-wide rock star. 

His eyelids are becoming increasingly droopy and his head is swimming in circles with every movement. 

Beginning to feel overstimulated, he staggers off the dance floor of a hundred people and slumps on the nearest sofa. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but Loki begins to realize he’ll need a ride back to the hotel. Yes. A ride. 

How did he get here again?

Oh. Yes. An uber.

Wait, no. Not an uber, but his personal driver. 

Loki groans at the fact that he’ll have to reach his phone from his back pocket, but he does so, tapping it to turn it on. 

He taps it again. 

Then again. 

Dead. 

“Fuck,” Loki mutters, looking up at the ceiling in defeat. 

He will have to make due with his feet. 

Yes, he’ll be fine. The hotel can’t be that far. 

Where is he?

Whatever. He’ll make his way just fine.

Loki isn’t even a block away from the penthouse before he becomes terribly dizzy. He crouches his legs, putting his hand on the wall as he braces for a wave of nausea. 

The night is surprisingly chilly and he wishes dearly that he could be bundled up in his warm bed in his silk sheets.

God, when will it end?

“Loki?”

The distinct voice is obvious, and instead of loath, Loki feels a sense of great relief. 

Loki stands to his full height and stares down at Mobius, who looks at him in incredulity. “Jesus, Loki, are you drunk?” he questions. 

Loki huffs, about to spout words of denial before he stumbles forward. 

Mobius catches him instantly, holding him steadily. “Woah, okay. Hey. Grab onto me. There you go,” he encourages as Loki slumps on him. 

Loki eyes Mobius, noting how casually dressed he is. Plain t-shirt and jeans, a jean jacket fitting him quite perfectly. 

He looks delectable. 

Mobius scoffs as he takes out his phone. “Delectable’s a little far, Loki,” he says, clearly not taking Loki’s words seriously due to his drunkenness. 

Loki almost wishes he would take his words seriously. 

“What’re you doing out on the streets of New Orleans at this hour, huh?” Mobius asks, holding onto his waist tightly so Loki doesn’t slump further. 

Loki bites his lip in case any indecent noises slip out. “Party,” he murmurs into Mobius’s neck. “No– event. It was an event. Promise,” he slurs.

“Sure. Okay. Hold on, let me get us an uber.”

“Mobius, I promise.”

“Okay, okay. I hear you.”

The uber arrives in… well, Loki doesn’t know how long it takes. He’s too busy memorizing the scent of Mobius. It’s crisp, and a little woody, almost like a cozy fire. 

Mobius escorts Loki in the back first, then slips in after him, releasing a long breath. He informs the driver of the address, and the vehicle begins moving.

As Mobius types quickly on his device, Loki stares at him in awe. 

He’s beautiful. 

Loki doesn’t care if it’s the drunkenness talking, but he wants to devour this man. 

It is the drunkenness, it must be. 

The thoughts he strives to suppress are racing to the front of his mind and he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Mobius is talking about how Loki should probably be more responsible about his whereabouts as Loki draws closer and closer to the man, scooting across the seat slowly. 

“Hey.” Mobius snaps a finger in front of him. “You listening?”

To this, Loki releases an unexpected giggle. “Not at all,” he responds, his breath coming against Mobius’s cheek. 

Mobius’s eyes widen as he scoots back, clearing his throat. A faint blush makes his way across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, you should. You’re lucky I was the one who found you and not some creep.”

Loki moves forward some more, his eyes flickering down to the older man’s lips. They look so plump and gorgeous. He leans forward, but before he can do anything, Mobius puts a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Woah, hey. You don’t know what you’re doing,” Mobius cautions as he pushes Loki back a little. He chuckles to ease the tension. “It could be anyone sitting here and you’d be looking for a smooch, trust me.”

Loki stares at him, shaking his head slowly. He hardly realizes he’s practically crawling towards Mobius now. “No,” he denies. “No one’s like you, Mobius.”

Mobius’s breath hitches and his back presses against the door handle. “Right, well… I guess I’m one in a million, but–” He clears his throat. “It’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?”

Loki’s hand slides up Mobius’s thigh and the agent jolts. “Mobius,” he whispers into the older man’s ear. “I want you.”

The vehicle comes to a stop and right when it does, Mobius turns the handle and steps out with impressive swiftness. He puts a hand through his hair, sighing deeply to get a hold of himself. “Here,” he says as he takes Loki’s hand and pulls him out of the car, allowing him to slump against him once again. With great difficulty, he takes out his wallet and pays the driver for his troubles. 

As quickly as he can, he escorts Loki inside and to the elevator, trying not to let the rock star make a fool of himself in the lobby. The receptionist gives them a concerned look, but nothing more, which Loki can tell relieves Mobius. Once the elevator doors finally open, he stumbles him and Loki in, then presses the floor they need. 

Mobius exhales a long breath. “You’re heavier than you look,” he murmurs, hoisting Loki up so that he doesn’t drag. 

Loki places his hand on Mobius’s chest, rubbing the material of his shirt. “So soft,” he observes. 

“Okay, c’mon.” Mobius takes Loki’s hand off, but Loki repeats the action, ignoring the agent’s protest. Mobius sighs, taking Loki’s hand off once again. “Loki,” he scolds. 

“Mobius,” Loki whispers back, another giggle bubbling up in his throat. He walks Mobius back and presses him against the wall, his hands trailing along his stomach.

 Mobius’s breath hitches, hands reflexively coming up to grasp Loki’s waist. “Hey, Loki. You’re drunk, c’mon,” he reminds in a soft voice. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that I want- I want you,” Loki says, his voice getting close to desperation. “Mobius, please.”

“You don’t know what you want,” says Mobius, his eyes deep with… the same desperation? Desire? Loki can’t tell. 

“I do,” Loki counters. 

Before Mobius can say anything more, the doors open, revealing the long corridor. “C’mere,” Mobius mumbles, wrapping an arm around Loki’s waist and walking him out the elevator and down the corridor. The only noise is the rumble of the vending machine and the distant noise of a vacuum, the cleaning staff working on the rooms down the hall.

They eventually get to Loki’s door, and Mobius seems troubled. “Uh- key card?” he asks. 

“Hm?”

“Key card,” he repeats. 

“Back pocket,” Loki tells him. 

Mobius stands there, staring at him. He sighs. “You’re not gonna get it for me, are you?”

Loki grins. “I may needs some help,” he purrs. 

Mobius scoffs. “God, you’re crazy.” 

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches his arm around and slips his hand into Loki’s back pocket. 

Loki chuckles. “How scandalous,” he says into Mobius’s ear. 

“Shut it,” Mobius mumbles, retrieving the card from his pocket and scanning it against the lock. The door clicks and Mobius pushes it open. It’s spacious, just how Loki prefers it. The window displays the river and the beautiful night that’s upon them.  He guides Loki to his bed and sits him down on the cool sheets. Mobius turns on the lamp on the side table, it illuminating the room just right. “Wow. You’re room’s bigger than mine,” he says. “Let’s take this jacket off, you look uncomfortable.”

Loki only makes a noise of confirmation in response, suddenly feeling extremely tired. Mobius shrugs the jacket off him (with great effort since Loki does nothing in assistance), and folds it, placing it neatly on a chair near the bed. He then goes to the window and closes the curtains, not wanting to risk any chance of the public eye invading Loki’s privacy, even if it’s a slim chance from such a high floor.

Loki slumps on the bed, trying to get comfortable in the covers. 

“Hold on, hold on. Let me get your shoes off,” Mobius says. He comes forward and easily takes Loki’s shoes off, placing them on the floor. “There you go.” He pulls the covers over Loki, up to his chin. Loki releases a long breath, beginning to close his eyes. 

He then hears Mobius’s footsteps walking away. His eyes snap open in worry. “Where are you going?” he murmurs. 

Mobius stops in his tracks. “Um… to my room?”

“You’re not staying?” Loki can’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. 

Mobius can’t keep his small grin if he tried. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Loki states matter-of-factly. “Please.”

Mobius chuckles. “Look who’s picked up on manners.”

Loki glares at him.

“Don’t worry your pretty self. I’ll stay with you,” he confirms, his voice teasing. Loki can hear him take a seat on the sofa across the room, and he instantly frowns. 

“No, sleep here-”

“Loki. Go to sleep.”

Loki grumbles, but is far too exhausted to argue. He finds himself falling into a deep sleep, comfortable knowing Mobius is there with him. 

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Mobius awakes from the alarm he set for himself. He feels for his phone and turns off the constant noise, slowly opening his eyes to the light that’s attempting to peak through the curtains. He groans, sitting up and rolling his stiff shoulder. Maybe he should have taken Loki’s offer of sleeping in the bed with him last night.

But that would have resulted to an awkward morning. 

Once his eyes adjust to the light, he catches Loki already staring at him, horror striking his face. 

Mobius yawns. “Mornin’ to you, too,” he greets. 

“What… ah-” he rubs his head, pain substituting the shock. 

“Hangover. Feel nauseous?” Mobius asks, ignoring the genuine concern that fills his chest. He should calm down; hangovers are probably Loki’s morning routine. 

“A little,” Loki admits. “But I think I have medication.”

“I can get them for you. Where?”

“Erm… in my bag.” Loki points to a duffle bag that lays on the couch beside Mobius. 

Mobius reaches over and grabs the bag, unzipping the first pocket and successfully finding the pills. He stands, stretching his arms, then heads to the mini kitchen to fill a glass of water. He then makes his way to Loki and hands the pills to him. “Here ya go,” Mobius says.

Loki takes the pills, then washes it down with the glass of water that Mobius hands him next. “Thank you,” he says, almost… shyly? And why does Loki look so good looking up at Mobius?

Mobius nods. “No problem.”

Loki sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I… um, apologize for my behavior last night. You must know that I wasn’t in the best state and-”

“Loki,” Mobius soothes. “It’s fine. Don’t sweat it.”

Even if Mobius has a side of himself that wishes what Loki was pursuing was true last night, he knows that that would never and could never happen. It’s completely unprofessional and Loki would definitely never go after someone like Mobius when he has a flock of celebrities up his sleeve.

“But…” Loki looks taken aback. “No. It- I don’t know what I was thinking. Please just… don’t tell Ravonna,” he pleads. 

Mobius huffs a laugh. “Ravonna is still your manager, sure, but in most cases, she’s not relevant. You’re your own person, Loki, you can do whatever the hell you want. I’m not upset.”

Loki’s eyes glitter in the soft light and Mobius has to keep his breath from stuttering. “Really?” Loki says. 

“Really,” Mobius confirms. “Just… if you don’t wanna bring the wrong type of attention to yourself, I would suggest staying away from parties that Tony Stark hosts.”

Loki scoffs. “I truly didn’t know he was hosting. One of my acquaintances simply informed me of the event and I went.”

“No need for explanation,” Mobius says. “I believe you.” 

Loki stares up at him, seeming stunned. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

“That is a really bad choice.”

Mobius chuckles, shrugging. “Well, I’ll face the consequences.” There’s a silence that draws between them, and Mobius clears his throat, rubbing his sore neck. “Listen, I know you’ll probably not want to talk about it-”

“You’re correct.”

Mobius sighs. “I’m gonna have to arrange some type of appointment for you, Loki,” he tells him. 

“No need to worry about that,” Loki says, pulling his covers up due to the chill of the morning. “I already have one.”

Mobius furrows his brows. “But I haven’t even set up anything yet,” he recalls. 

“Yes, but Ravonna has.”

Mobius stares at him, not bothering to keep his shock to himself. “Who’d she set you up with?”

“Allegra de Fontaine,” Loki replies. 

Mobius releases a curse. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting about this,” he complains under his breath.

“I’m gonna have to talk to Ravonna,” Mobius murmurs.

“What for?”

“What for?” Mobius repeats. “Loki, that woman can keep nothing to herself. She has no boundaries. She shouldn’t even be authorized to be an interviewer.”

“Well, she’s interviewing me. All the successful musicians have been associated with her,” Loki argues. 

Mobius gives him a hard stare. “I don’t trust this.”

“You don’t have to. I’m going through with this.”

“Loki-”

“You know what? I’m feeling quite dizzy,” Loki informs, irritation prominent in his tone. “I think I’m going to sleep for a little longer. The interview is this afternoon. Since you insist on following me everywhere, come or don’t. I don't care.”

With that, Loki turns away from Mobius, burying himself in the covers. 

Mobius stands there, startled with how this conversation turned out. Loki is incredibly headstrong, he’ll give him that. 

Mobius sighs in defeat and leaves the room, deciding it’s best to leave Loki to his sulking. He shuts the door on his way out. People walk past him, heading downstairs for the filling breakfast that’s provided in the dining room. 

Mobius pulls out his phone, dialing a number he didn’t think he’d have to dial so soon. He puts the phone to his ear and it picks up, Ravonna’s stern voice on the other line. 

“Hello?” she asks. 

“Hey, Ravonna, it’s Mobius,” Mobius greets, leaning against the wall. 

“I know. I saw your number,” she says, her voice blatant. 

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to save it.”

“Has Loki done something?” she questions. 

“No. I just-” Mobius lets out a long breath. “Allegra de Fontaine? Really?”

“I’m sorry, Mobius, do you have a problem with my choice?”

Mobius bites back a blunt answer. “Nope. Just… I thought I was taking charge in Loki’s schedule. I’m his agent.”

“I’ve been wanting to set up an interview with Fontaine for a while. She has a long waiting list and this will enhance Loki’s popularity.”

“Ravonna-”

“This is the last thing I will directly set up for him,” Ravonna assures. “I’ve been preparing for this interview for a while and Loki has agreed to it, surprisingly.”

Mobius feels an unexpected anger boil up in him, but he’s not the type to display it. “Right. But-”

“Goodbye, Mobius.”

The line cuts and Mobius huffs, digging his device back in his pocket. There’s the fact that Allegra de Fontaine can get invasive, and Mobius isn’t sure how forward she will be with Loki. 

Then there’s the other part of the troublesome matter. 

Mobius doesn’t want Loki to get hurt. What if this woman says something Loki is unprepared for? Adding to that, what if Loki doesn’t know how to respond?

Mobius can’t help but feel extremely bothered by the situation. 

The interview takes place in a studio in the busy division of the city. It’s surrounded by other entertainment businesses, though they’re certainly not as familiar as the ones in LA. 

The interview room is compact, only a few lights set up next to the two chairs that are in the middle of the space. It gives the area a dark feel, at least in Mobius’s opinion. 

Mobius watches two women assist Loki with his mic. Loki makes sure not to look at Mobius, his eyes staring at the screen of his phone. 

Petty. 

Loki is dressed in a blazer and a white, crisp shirt, and Mobius would be lying if he said the pants that he wears don’t fit his long legs perfectly. 

Mobius snaps out of his thoughts, darting his eyes away from the rock star, not wanting his thoughts to turn into fantasies. 

“Mr. Laufeyson!” a woman’s voice greets, Allegra de Fontaine appearing in the room. Her hair holds a blue strip and she wears a black overcoat that seems to match her aura. “It is so good to meet you,” she says, shaking Loki’s hand. 

Loki puts on a smile. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs-”

“Oh God, no. I’m recently separated. You know what? Just call me Allegra,” she tells him, a huge grin on her lips. “Let’s get this show started, huh? I’ll only be asking you a few questions, just about your music and where you think your career will be going. Nothing special. Sound good?”

Loki seems staggered by the sudden bombardment of information, but he nods, keeping up with her words. “Uh- yes. Sounds acceptable.”

“Excellent,” she says. Her eyes land on Mobius. “And who are you?”

Mobius shifts where he stands. “His agent. I’m just here to observe,” he informs, not offering a smile like he usually does. He doesn’t think he can bring himself to do so. 

“Huh. Well, take a seat, I’ll make this quick since I know you’re a busy man, Mr. Laufeyson.” She peers over at a man setting up a particular camera and she makes a noise of frustration. “No, not there. That’s too awkward of an angle. What is this, a Wes Anderson film?” She strides over to the now frightened looking man, adjusting the camera for him. 

Loki is about to make his way to the chairs before Mobius stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You sure you still wanna do this?”

Loki’s cheeks visibly gain a rosy color, but it instantly dissipates as his dazed expression becomes one of irritation. “Mobius, I already told you. I don’t wish for your help,” Loki hisses. “You must give up this useless role of wanting to become my agent. Our relationship will never be anything more than strangers. Am I clear?”

Mobius grinds his teeth. “I know you’re not fond of me, but I’m only trying to help,” he tries.

“Well stop helping,” Loki says, shrugging Mobius’s hand off his shoulder and going to his seat. 

“Okay, everyone, places!” says Allegra. “We don’t have all day.”

She takes her own seat and has a notepad in her hand. Mobius crosses his arms, uneasiness consuming him.

This is strange. He’s never been this concerned about the celebrities he’s worked with. He can’t pinpoint why Loki’s different, he just is. 

A cameraman counts Allegra down and she adjusts in her seat, putting on an overly deferential smile. 

“Mr. Laufeyson,” she starts, “what an honor it is to have you.”

Loki smiles, leaning back in his seat casually. He’s a natural at this, Mobius can see. “It’s an honor to be here, Allegra,” he returns politely. 

She laughs, waving a hand at him. “You’re quite the charmer, you are,” she says. “So, Mr. Laufeyson, your music career is booming at the moment. Your new album has gotten only positive reviews. It’s like the rock world has been waiting for talent like yours.”

Loki grins, undoubtedly basking in the praise. “You’re too kind.”

“And I’m being completely honest. Tell me, how have you gotten to this point in your career?”

“For a while, I was in a slump,” Loki responds. “I couldn’t necessarily figure out what I needed to bring to the table, but soon, I realized that the creativity of rock was my calling.” 

Allegra hums, keeping her smile. “You could also say that you got your talent from your father and brother,” she offers. 

Loki pauses, nodding slowly. “Um… yes. It certainly runs in the family,” he agrees, keeping the smile on his lips, though Mobius sees that it’s a little strained. “I’ve also been working on another piece of my work, and-”

“I’ve interviewed your brother before, and God, what a gifted musician. I can tell why you’ve accomplished so much, your brother has paved the way to such success,” she continues, ignoring Loki’s attempt in change in conversation. She gasps, her expression changing to one of doubtfulness. “Goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m talking as if you all are actually related.”

Loki’s face drops. His jaw visibly juts and his hands clench the arms of the chair. “Uh…”

“That is such a sweet story. Even though you’re not technically a part of the family, you still make sure to carry on their legacy,” she says. 

Mobius observes the scene taking place. He rubs a hand across his jaw, attempting to contain the vexation that simmers in his chest. This is what he was afraid of. Mobius has seen this too many times in his career. Interviewers like Allegra lure in celebrities with their dazzle and charm, praising them to no end. Then, in a flash, they turn on them when the cameras are rolling, desperate to gain any information they can get. It makes no sense to Mobius and that’s why he wanted to take the reigns of Loki’s schedule. He wanted to discuss their options with Loki, agree to an appointment and check backgrounds of interviewers and businesses to asses whether or not they should go through with them. 

Mobius doesn’t get angry often, but stuff like this counters his calm nature. 

Loki swallows, seeming just as angry… but there’s also humiliation plastered on his features. “I’m not in their shadow any longer,” he says, not bothering to make himself sound pleased to be here anymore. “My father and brother are well known in the industry, but I make my original music. I’ve built up my career properly, and-”

“Oh, Mr. Laufeyson,” she chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s no surprise that your music is decent, but your reputation…” She hisses through her teeth. “We all know it’s no dream.”

Loki stares at her, his eyes unwavering. He looks hurt, of all things, and Mobius does not care for that look on him. “People strive to gather the worst of myself,” he declares. “Though I’ve admittedly made some idiotic choices, I’m still a musician who takes my work seriously.”

Allegra laughs. “Most people beg to differ. Thor and Odin are icons in the industry, do you think you will ever get to that level, Mr. Laufeyson?”

Loki bites the inside of his lip. 

“Your father has confirmed he doesn’t see you often,” she continues, no shame found in her voice. “Would you make music to make him proud? He’s never reportedly showed up to any of your shows, but makes sure to show up to Thor’s. Some say there’s favoritism in the family. Would you say so, Mr. Laufeyson?”

“Alright,” Mobius speaks up, not caring if his voice cuts through the recording. “I think we’re done here.”

Allegra’s eyes flicker to Mobius, her smile tight with annoyance. “I still have a few more questions.”

“And he won’t be answering them,” says Mobius. He nods his head to Loki. “Loki? Ready?”

Without a word, Loki nods, turning off his mic as he stands. He undoes the wire and gives it to one of the cameramen, who all look a little stunned by the sudden need for absence. Which Mobius doesn’t understand. How can these people be so obtuse with common curtesy?

Mobius tries to comfort Loki as they step out into the hall. “Loki-”

“Just leave me be,” he demands, walking swiftly out the exit. 

It’s almost 10 pm, and Mobius is wide awake in his room, staring at the ceiling. 

When back at the hotel, Mobius thought of knocking on Loki’s door, but he decided against it, deciding he should give the rock star some time. 

He releases a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. Even a blistering cold shower couldn’t wash the worry he feels for the rock star. 

Allegra was so vile, so inconsiderate, Mobius thought Loki was going to break down right then and there. 

Mobius has watched other entertainment sources before about the admittedly chaotic family. He knows Loki has always been the black sheep, always known to be the “adopted son of Odin” or “adopted brother of Thor” and nothing else. 

And the problem with that is Loki really does have talent. The way he can work a guitar so naturally. His voice is unique, ethereal, in Mobius’s opinion. 

That’s only half of it, but genuinely, Mobius considers Loki to have his own style, his own methodology to music. 

It’s the reason why he’s becoming so popular. Not because of his background or his distant family, but because Loki himself is an intriguing person who the world wants to know. 

A knock sounds at his door and Mobius turns his head to the noise, confused who could be wanting to interact with him at such an hour. He gets up from the bed, stretches, and walks the short distance to the door. Once he opens it, he’s surprised to see Loki standing there, staring at him unsurely. 

“Could I come in?” Loki asks, his voice quiet. 

Mobius nods, stepping aside. “Make yourself at home.”

Loki steps in, his eyes wandering the room. “Your room’s smaller than mine,” he observes out loud, a hint of pride in his tone. 

Mobius smirks. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Loki offers a small smirk back, to Mobius’s great pleasure. The rock star stands in the middle of the room, seeming hesitant about his presence in the unfamiliar space. 

“I… I felt the need to- to acknowledge my mistake in agreeing to the interview with Allegra,” he confesses, eyes to the floor. 

Mobius licks his lips, shaking his head. “Hey, you don’t have to-”

“It was stupid,” Loki says, and Mobius snaps his head up when he realizes there’s a small crack in the rock star’s voice. “I- I shouldn’t have even considered complying to such a thing. I humiliated myself and-”

“Hey,” Mobius soothes, walking forward. “Stop it. You didn’t know.”

“Fuck, why are you-” Loki releases a strained laugh. “Why the hell are you still being so nice to me?”

Mobius huffs a laugh and shrugs. “Like I’ve mentioned, I’m not an easy person to deal with either. What, you think I’m gonna run away from a little sass talk?”

Loki holds a smile, looking away. “I’ve been quite horrid to you.”

“In this business, I’m used to it,” Mobius assures. 

Loki grins, seeming impressed. “You’re a ridiculous man.”

“I get that a lot,” he says, crossing his arms. A beat passes, and Mobius steps forward, looking up at Loki with sincerity. “How are you doin’?

Loki lets out a trembling sigh. “I… should have listened to you.”

“We’re passed that,” says Mobius. “I’m asking if you’re okay.”

Loki looks into his eyes, playing with a ring on his finger, which Mobius’s eyes flicker down to, then up again. He can’t get distracted, not now. “She… she was quite persistent,” he whispers. 

“She was,” Mobius agrees. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Loki shakes his head, letting out a laugh with no humor attached to it. “I’ve gotten used to it. My brother and father are quite the talk and with that, so am I.”

“But you’re the talk for the wrong reasons,” Mobius says. 

Loki nods. “I know.”

Mobius stares at him for a few more moments, then gestures to the bed. “Wanna take a seat?”

Loki raises a brow. “Trying something, are you?”

Mobius chuckles. “Well, you were insistent the night you were drunk, so I thought I’d take up the offer,” he says. Loki’s cheeks go into a full flush and Mobius laughs. “I’m kidding. Just sit.”

Loki sits on the bed, the cushion denting. Mobius sits next to him, maybe a little too close, but he pretends to pay no mind. “I just want you to hear me out,” says Mobius, looking at him intently. “Can you do that for me?”

Loki, seeming entranced by the agent, nods in confirmation. 

Mobius smiles, glad he can finally convince the rock star to listen to something he has to say. “I would be happy to work with you. You’re an extremely talented musician and I want to help you show that talent to all who wanna hear,” he explains. “And to do that, I need you to trust me. I can get you some good appointments and interviews if you’d just work with me. When you resist me, I can’t continue the process to your success. I need your permission and commitment. Does that make sense?”

Loki nods again, eyeing Mobius attentively. 

Mobius can’t help but find it adorable. 

“I know how to do my job,” Mobius guarantees. “And if you let me do it, I can promise you some good opportunities that will open new doors to your career.” A pause. “You wanna help me out here and work with me, Loki?”

Loki stares at him, seeming enraptured by Mobius’s words. He clears his throat, nodding. “Yes,” he confirms. “I… I can work with you.”

Mobius grins. “That’s all I ask for.”

Silence ensues, and soon, they’re just staring at each other, both pairs of eyes unwavering. Mobius pushes down the overgrowing need to reach out and touch Loki, him being so close. Mobius sucks in a breath, breaking the thick tension that was forming. 

“It’s late. You should probably get to bed, huh?” he suggests. 

A flash of disappointment crosses Loki’s face, but he stands, nodding. “I probably should,” he says, his voice low. 

Mobius walks Loki to the door, but before the rock star walks out, he turns to Mobius. “Mobius?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Loki stands there for a second longer, then rushes away, quickly turning the corner to his room. 

Mobius stands in the doorway, his heart thumping wildly. 

What has he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

Loki feels as if his voice is thoroughly worn out. After singing for a good few hours, it’s descending into afternoon. 

Loki and his team have been rehearsing the whole day, starting from early morning and ending in the early afternoon. Other musicians who will be performing at the festival has come and gone, borrowing the stage when needed, allowing Loki to rest his voice when needed. Natasha Romanoff rehearsed her whole performance with ease, which surprised Loki since he hasn’t seen her any previous days. However, it makes sense since she seems like the type who’s graceful at any task. It’s quite infuriating. 

The festival grounds are set up in advance. The tall light pulls were put up yesterday and the illuminating, colorful lights have been placed amongst the ceiling of the stage. Food stands are being set up along the sides where the fans will cheer and the technicians are working hard to double-check the sound of mics and instruments. 

Casey lets out a woop! once Loki plays the last chord of the song. Loki jumps at the sound, turning to Casey in bewilderment. 

“You are gonna kill it tomorrow!” he praises, pointing a finger at Loki. 

“Oh, uh- thank you. I suppose,” Loki says, not exactly knowing how else to respond. 

“Good work, Loki,” Sylvie compliments quickly, not bothering to show any excitement on her face, but Loki can tell she’s pleased. “Do you think you’re ready?”

Loki nods, shrugging. “I… I think I am, yes. Do I sound ready?”

“You do,” Sylvie confirms. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Loki is grateful for the reassurance. This is… big. The festival is tomorrow and he isn’t sure he’s ever been this nervous. Why is he so nervous? He supposes he’s been on edge for the past few days, especially after… the interview. 

Loki grimaces as the memory comes forth in his mind. He’s been trying to block it out, he really has. But he can’t. Humiliation runs through his veins, but moreover anger. He’s angry at himself, mostly. How could he have allowed himself to get caught up in such a mess? Luckily, Ravonna informs him that though he’s been the talk of the town for the past few days, it’s mostly pitying comments more than anything. 

Well, maybe that’s not such a lucky thing. Loki doesn’t wish to be pitied. 

But Mobius has been… helpful. More helpful than Loki deserves, really. Loki hasn’t necessarily been avoiding him, not anymore. Loki has grudgingly allowed Mobius’s assistance. And he, shamefully, can’t help but fall into the man’s desire to take care of him. 

Loki blinks, his cheeks turning warm. 

God, what is he getting at? It’s Mobius’s job to look after him and his reputation, it’s no desire . Loki is surprised Mobius wasn’t put off by his ridiculous drunken performance. Now that was humiliating. 

Loki takes a deep breath, attempting to calm his whirling thoughts. He’s Loki Laufeyson, he doesn’t need to be embarrassed about anything. 

Mobius’s stunned face comes to mind when Loki’s hand touched his thigh in the card ride. Loki huffs, shaking the thought. He needs to stop. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” Loki announces. “Everyone should attempt rest, at least, if we wish to perform decently.”

Everyone gathers their things, beginning to make their way off the stage. Sylvie sighs as she puts her drumsticks away. 

“9 PM tomorrow, then?” she asks. 

“Sounds acceptable,” Loki responds, putting his guitar back in his case. 

An unexpected hand comes to his shoulder. Sylvie squeezes. “Is… everything alright?”

Loki shrugs her off. “I’m fine, Sylvie.”

“You’re never this stressed about a concert.”

“Well, it’s not just a concert, is it?” Loki says. “It’s something else entirely.”

Sylvie releases a short laugh. “Loki, you will be fine. You’re voice sounded perfect today.” She nudges him. “And you’re always able to hype yourself up before a performance. Then, once you do, it’s like you’re on top of the world.” She nods to him. “See you tomorrow.”

Loki nods, not looking at her. “Yeah. See you,” he says. 

Loki takes his guitar case, bringing it with him backstage. He goes to his dressing room, placing his guitar down carefully. 

He sits in his chair, looking in the mirror and at his reflection. He bites the inside of his lip, staring. 

After a while, he makes a decision. 

Loki pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. Taking a shaky breath, he clicks on “Dad”, then puts the device to his ear. 

The phone rings and rings, and just when Loki thinks he should hang up, the line picks up. 

“Hello?” Odin’s voice is tired, a low sound. 

Loki can already feel a cold sweat take over him. He swallows, attempting to keep his voice neutral. “Hello, Dad,” Loki says, holding his phone tightly. 

“Hello.”

There’s silence.

“Is there something you need?” Odin asks. 

“Well, um…” Loki’s knee starts to bounce. “I’m sure… I’m sure you saw that I’m in the Paradise Festivals this year.”

“Mm.”

“Um… they’re quite the talk.”

“I heard, yes.”

Loki tries not to cringe at the disinterest in his father’s voice. 

“You… do you think you can make it?” Loki asks, silently cursing at how the last part of the sentence sounds shaky. “New Orleans. I’m in New Orleans.”

“No, I don’t think I can,” Odin responds instantly. “I wasn’t planning to and getting a flight would be troublesome.”

Loki clenches his jaw, breathing through his nose. “I could arrange it,” he offers.

“No… no, Son, I don’t think it would be possible.”

“It could. If you could just allow me-”

“Loki.” 

Loki quiets at his tone.

“I’m not going.”

Loki stays silent, allowing his words to sink in. Well, really, there’s nothing to sink in. It’s not a surprise. 

“Right,” Loki says harshly. “Bye, then.”

Loki hangs up the phone, then throws the device on the dresser, not caring of it cracks. He rests his elbow on the arm of the chair, putting his head in his hand. 

He should have known. 

Loki walks to his room, his mind occupied as he makes his way through the corridor. 

“Loki.”

Loki turns, Mobius coming up to him with a wide grin. 

Loki’s heart instantly thumps faster. Mobius is… he looks heavenly. 

He’s wearing a crisp blue shirt that compliments his eyes beautifully. His pants are… they fit him perfectly , wrapping around his thighs. 

Loki wants to put his face between them. 

“Yes?” Loki asks, ignoring his dry voice. 

“Funny how we always meet up here,” Mobius comments. “You ever go anywhere else besides your room?”

“Not really.” Loki can’t help but look Mobius over again. “Uh… where are you going?”

Mobius raises a brow, looking down at himself. “Oh… this. Yeah, thought I’d head to a jazz club. Can’t miss one when you’re in New Orleans.”

“You're going alone?” Loki asks. 

Mobius huffs a laugh. “Who said I was going alone?”

Loki’s stomach drops. 

Right. Of course. Of course Mobius wouldn’t be going alone. Of course he can convince anyone to go with him when he looks like that. 

Loki doesn’t know why, but his mood sours. 

“I see,” he says, unable to help the bitterness in his voice. Hopefully it’s not too noticeable. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

“Loki,” Mobius says, an amused expression on his face. 

Loki furrows his brows. “What?”

“I was hoping you would come with me.”

Loki blinks. “Oh.”

Mobius tilts his head. “That a no?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Mobius’s voice sounds disappointed. “Yeah. Sorry for-”

“Oh, wait. No,” Loki reiterates. “I mean… like- no. I didn’t mean no. I meant no, I didn’t mean no.”

Mobius stares at him in uncertainty. 

Loki sighs in frustration. “I would like to go with you, Mobius,” he finally says. 

Mobius laughs. “There’s the answer I was lookin’ for.” 

Loki huffs. “Yes, well… I’ll go get changed.”

“I’ll wait out front for you,” Mobius says. 

After Mobius is out of sight, Loki rushes to his room, his heart in his throat.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Mobius can’t help but feel an overwhelming excitement at the fact that he convinced Loki Laufeyson to come to a jazz club with him. 

Right as they walk into the compact building, there’s an instant sound of a trumpet. The stage is at the end of the room, a drummer subtly playing with the trumpet’s rhythm. A pianist is trailing the keys, setting the song at a fast paste. 

People are crowding the dance floor, but not in an overwhelming style. They seem to be enjoying themselves, feeling the music through their soul, not paying attention to anything else around them. 

A bar is to the right of the room, bottles of liquor filling the back, almost covering the mirrors. Pillars are at the corners and red curtains cover nothing in particular as they add a velvety color to the room, complementing its old-fashioned atmosphere. Tables are scattered with white cloths, customers drinking their martinis. 

Mobius takes a peek at Loki, who looks… nervous, of all things. Mobius nudges him, which catches Loki’s attention as the rock star’s eyes land on him. 

“Out of your element?” Mobius asks softly.

“No, not exactly,” Loki says, eyes wandering the crowded room. “Just… what if someone notices me?”

Mobius chuckles, leading Loki to a table in the back. “Loki, look around you. No one’s payin’ attention to anything else besides having a good time. I wouldn’t bring you somewhere where you’d be bombarded by fans.” 

They sit at the round table, Loki visibly relaxing at Mobius’s reassurance. Mobius’s eyes wander Loki for the hundredth time that night, but no one can blame him when he looks that good. 

Loki has decided to go for something simple, a white (fitting) button-up that leaves little for the imagination. And Mobius has eyed the rock star’s ass one or two times that night, unable to help himself when those pants look as if they’re clinging to his skin. Not to mention the excess of gold-colored jewelry the rock star wears, which seems to match his attire perfectly. Mobius sucks in a breath, flickering his eyes away. 

“Found this place when I was exploring the city,” Mobius says, watching the musicians on stage. “Thought you’d like it.”

Loki hums, his eyes never leaving the stage. Mobius can tell the rock star is secretly appreciating the music, judging by the way his finger taps on his leg according to the rhythm. “You… surprisingly thought right,” Loki verifies. “Not my usual place of entertainment, but I suppose I can get used to it.”

Mobius tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Better than going to a Stark party.” Loki is about to retort before Mobius puts up his hands. “In my humble opinion.”

Loki holds a smile. “Yes, humble.”

“I’m gonna go get us drinks,” Mobius announces, standing. He looks down at Loki. “Not too much, though.”

“You haven’t even asked what I wanted,” Loki says, offence in his voice. 

“I’ll make sure to surprise you,” Mobius says back, grinning. 

“Charming.”

“I am, aren’t I?” 

Unable to hold himself back, Mobius squeezes Loki’s shoulder. He makes sure not to linger, pulling away quickly. Mobius doesn’t miss the hitch of Loki’s breath. 

The musicians swing into another song with ease as Mobius makes his way to the bar. He orders two simple drinks, nothing too unique. Mobius’s fingers twitch. He licks his lips, rubbing a hand against his jaw to keep himself from going back and simply getting his hands on the rock star again. 

Okay. He needs to stop. 

Keep professional, keep professional, keep professional. 

It wasn’t even professional to invite Loki to drinks in the first place. But… it can be seen as a part of the job, right? They’re both studying music, listening to authentic jazz. 

Yeah. Business related. 

Mobius carries their drinks back to their table, placing Loki’s in front of him. 

Loki huffs. “Quite bland,” he comments. 

“Suck it up, butter cup. Only drink you’re gettin’ tonight,” Mobius tells him as he takes a seat next to him. 

“Oh, I see. So this is punishment for me getting ridiculously drunk a few nights ago,” Loki says, taking a sip of his drink. 

“If that’s how you wanna see it, sure. Or… it could just be me lookin’ after you,” Mobius suggests. 

Loki scoffs, looking down at his drink. “Difficult to believe.”

Mobius stares at him. “I don’t think it is. I think you’re making it difficult to believe.”

Loki’s voice is breathy as he speaks. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the situation isn’t that difficult,” Mobius says, swirling his finger around the glass of his drink. “It means… I’m just lookin’ after you. Nothing else to it.”

Loki’s eyes slowly go to Mobius’s finger. Mobius doesn't stop his movements. 

“Odd, really,” Loki says, his voice quiet. 

“Mhm? What?”

“No one has… ever wanted to look out for me.” A pause. “Or, of course, it’s also a part of the job. If I get drunk, I could make a fool of myself. If I make a fool of myself, there’s my reputation at stake.”

Mobius hums. “That’s true, but… it could be that I’m just looking after for you to look after for you. Have you thought of that?”

Loki’s eyes meet Mobius’s. “No,” he admits. “Why should I?”

“You should expect more from others,” says Mobius.

“People have disappointed me too many times for me to expect anything from them,” Loki retorts. 

Mobius’s eyes turn sincere. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Loki looks as if he didn’t expect that answer. He clears his throat, shrugging. “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not. But I hope I can show you a different perspective,” Mobius provides. 

Loki stares at him, stunned. “I’m… still not a pleasant person.”

A grin grows on Mobius’s lips. “Not expecting you to be.” 

The mic turns on on stage. One of the lead musicians step up. “We’re gonna go for somethin’ a little more slow,” he states, tweaking his brass instrument. “Grab a partner if you’d like, or dance away on your own. Just enjoy.”

The piano begins to play, the drums starting after in a slow tempo. A man in full attire is already next to a mic, beginning to sing a steady song. 

Mobius turns to Loki. “You know what’s funny?”

Loki blinks at Mobius. “Enlighten me.”

“We’re at a jazz club and we're not dancing.”

Loki scoffs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t take you as the dancing type.”

“I’m not,” Mobius admits. “But… I’m sure I can handle a slow dance. How hard can it be?”

Mobius revels in the laugh Loki lets out. “That sounds like a challenge,” says Loki. 

“If that’s what’ll get you to dance with me, then sure,” he says, standing. 

Loki looks up at him, seeming unsure. “I… I don’t know, what if-”

“What did I say? Everyone’s in their own world,” Mobius reminds him, nodding to the dance floor. “C’mon. Show me how much better you are than me at dancing. I know you want to.”

A mischievous glint sparks in Loki’s eyes. “Persuasion at its finest.”

They arrive on the small dance floor, other couple swaying to the music. Mobius looks around, suddenly feeling hesitant about all this. He’s never really danced all that much, and from afar it looks easy. But up close…

“You really are useless,” Loki says with a sigh, grabbing Mobius’s hand and putting it on his waist. Mobius inhales a shaky breath. Oh. This is nice so far. Loki takes his other hand, holding it in his own. He then puts a hand on Mobius’s shoulder. “Unless you prefer me holding your waist-”

“Nope,” Mobius interrupts. “This is fine.”

Loki nods, swallowing. “Yes. Well… then you simply move your feet.” Mobius starts shuffling his feet and Loki snorts a laugh. “I don’t know what that is.”

Mobius grins. “Hey, I’ve watched Dirty Dancing before. I know what I’m doing,” he counters. 

“Allow me,” Loki suggests, pressing closer to the agent. Mobius clenches his jaw, attempting to calm himself. “This is a slower song, so we’ll move just as slow.” 

They begin moving across the small space that they have. Loki steps toward him, and Mobius steps back accommodatingly. Loki steps back, and Mobius follows him, stepping forward. 

“And you just repeat,” Loki instructs, holding Mobius’s hand tighter. 

Mobius’s head spins. 

After a few more of the same movements, Mobius begins getting the hang of it. Soon, he doesn’t have to look down at his own feet, and he looks up at Loki. 

Which is different. 

Their eyes meet, and Mobius’s breath grows shallow as he looks into the rock star’s piercing eyes. 

Mobius’s hand tightens against Loki’s waist, subtly pulling him closer. Loki’s eyelashes flutter at the movement, their chests almost touching. 

The singer’s voice flows through the room, swirling around them as the melody crescendos. The trumpet’s notes turn long, dragging out to match the swell of the song. 

Mobius’s thumb rubs against the smooth skin of Loki’s hand. He’s starting not to care what reaction he gets, which is dangerous. Want may take over his whole being. 

However, Loki responds in kind, seeming to melt at the touch. 

The moment is… intimate. Too intimate, Mobius is afraid he’ll be unable to break out of this enchanting spell he’s sucked under. 

It’s a stupid mistake, he knows. But his eyes flicker down to Loki’s lips, them thin and kissable and pink…

Loki looks down at Mobius’s lips, his eyes turning to undeniable desire, almost desperation. 

Their breaths are almost intertwining. 

The ending of the song is what breaks the tension. 

Mobius inhales a sharp breath, pulling away. The disappointment in Loki’s eyes is palpable, but Mobius ignores it. He has to. 

“Thank you for the dance,” Mobius says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, giving Loki a smile. “You know your stuff.”

Loki still seems out of breath, still entranced in the moment. He nods, looking away. “Yes. It- um. Yes. No problem.”

Mobius licks his lips, nodding. “Yep. Uh- hey, we should probably head back to the hotel, huh? You’ve got the festival tomorrow. Want you to be in the best shape.”

Loki sighs. “Yes… that would be smart.”

Mobius pats Loki’s arm. “You’ll do great.” He nods toward the exit. “C’mon.”

Only a few words are spoken as they take the short walk back to the hotel. Even when they say goodnight and go to their respective rooms, it’s as if there are unspoken words that are hanging heavily in the air. Even when Mobius lies in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he still feels Loki’s hands on him, his breath against his lips, his eyes still piercing through him. 

Mobius doesn’t know if he’ll ever get Loki Laufeyson out of his head. 

Chapter Text

Loki underestimated how large the crowd would be at the festival. 

For days he’s been rehearsing at these grounds, but only looking out at an empty and wide space. 

Now… it’s packed beyond belief. Loki can hear the crowd’s screams from his dressing room. The lights are on full display, the night is young, and the audience is wild for a show. 

Loki isn’t normally nervous about these things, of course not. Usually, he basks in the praises of his fans, in the crowd that screeches in applause. 

But this could be a turning point in his career, this could allow him to prove to everyone that he takes music seriously.

And then there’s also the fact that Mobius will be here, but that’s hardly the point. 

Natasha Romanoff is performing at the moment and the crowd is practically overriding her voice with their cheers. However, that woman can never be silenced. 

Loki sucks in a long breath, bouncing his knee anxiously. 

Where is she?

Suddenly, the door bursts open. Bee walks in, bags of supplies in her arms. 

“Do not, do not get on my ass for being late,” Bee says, placing her makeup kit on the dressing table. 

“You’re lucky you’re my favorite stylist,” Loki quips back, releasing a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s have a look at you,” she says, twirling Loki’s chair around. 

“And how was the flight over here?” Loki asks. 

“Tiring,” she tells him, already applying a hint of blush to his cheeks. “But thank God I’m here because, no offense, hon’, but you don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. No need to worry,” he reassures. 

“There’s always something,” she murmurs. “But since you seem so unnecessarily reluctant to tell me the why of things, I guess we should pick out what you’re going to wear.”

After Bee finishes Loki’s look, Loki observes his reflection in the mirror. He turns, viewing his outfit. A black button-up with no sleeves, clinging to his figure. He wears pants that clutch to his legs (and do wonders for his backside). 

“Yeah,” Bee approves with a grin. “I did good.”

Loki grins back. “I will admit, you did,” he confirms. 

“Uh-huh. Now let me…” She grabs the eyeliner from the table, then begins applying it to the corner of his eye carefully. “Finishing touch.”

Loki swallows, his shoulders tense. 

“Nervous?” Bee asks. “That isn’t like you. You usually do this stuff with a flick of a wrist.”

“This is different,” Loki corrects. 

“How so?”

“It just… is,” says Loki. “I don’t know.”

“You always have an answer for everything,” Bee laughs. She pats his arm. “Finished. Take a look.”

Loki looks at himself in the mirror once again, inhaling a satisfied breath. “I… I love it, yes.”

“Loki, you look amazing ,” Bee says, holding his shoulders. “We should make this eyeliner a regular thing.”

“This is why I hired you as my personal stylist.”

“Shame you fired everyone else.”

“They’re inadequate.” Loki sighs wistfully. “And I look marvelous.”

“You’re going to do great, Loki,” she reassures, squeezing his shoulders. “You always do.”

“I know,” says Loki. “I know, it’s just-”

“What are you so nervous about?” she asks. “You can play that guitar like no other, you’re voice is exquisite-”

“You’re trying to butter me up.”

Bee laughs. “Far from it. I’m trying to give you confidence. Which is weird because your ego is bigger than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Mhm.”

“Loki, just- you’re going to do great. I promise, and-”

A knock sounds and the door opens. Loki turns to see Mobius. 

“Hey, just wanted to check…,” Mobius trails off as he lays eyes on Loki. Silence trails heavily in the room as the agent’s eyes take in the musician thoroughly. His cheeks turn red and he clears his throat. “In,” he finishes. “Just… wanted to check in. Wanted to… yep. You- how are you?”

Loki blinks, shrugging. “I’m… fine.”

“You will-” Mobius nods. “You’re gonna do great. Good. Very good. I’ll be there- cheering you on. Well, not actually cheering you on, but…” He chuckles. “Shit. I don’t know what’s-” Mobius’s eyes go to Bee. “Hi. Uh- Mobius.” Mobius extends a hand and Bee steps forward to take it. 

“Call me Bee. I’m Loki’s stylist,” Bee greets. She peeks back at Loki with a grin, then looks back at Mobius. “Picked out the outfit myself. People say I’m good. Do you think I did a good job?”

Loki’s eyes widen. “Bee,” he scolds. 

“A simple question,” she says. 

“Uh- yeah. Yep.” Mobius gives Loki another once over before nodding. “I’ll… I’ll be backstage if you need me.”

Before Mobius can leave, Loki speaks up. “Mobius?”

Mobius stops in his tracks, looking back. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming,” says Loki, trying to keep his voice from sounding too genuine, but he can’t help it.

Mobius grins. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He then leaves the room. 

“I see,” Bee says in realization, breaking Loki’s trance. 

Loki turns to her, furrowing his brows. “What?”

Bee gives him a knowing look. 

“Oh, no, no, no.” Loki laughs with no humor attached, walking to his guitar case. 

“What?” Bee asks innocently. 

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Loki says as he gets his guitar out of his case, preparing the strings. 

“He was checking you out, Loki,” Bee says, throwing her hands up as if it’s obvious. “Stop acting like you’re blind.”

“And he’s my agent.”

Her jaw drops. “That’s your agent?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… God . You better stop this now or there’s gonna be some very unprofessional stuff going on,” she advises. 

Loki eyes her incredulously. 

“I’m not wrong!” she defends.

“Loki Laufeyson, you’re up next,” a producer reminds through the door. “Be ready in a few minutes.”

Loki puts a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Loki.” Bee smiles. “Show them how it’s done, okay?”

Loki nods in thanks, slipping out the door. He takes several deep breaths. He can do this.

He will do this. Brilliantly.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Mobius can still feel that his cheeks are warm. 

He stands backstage in a dark corner, where technicians are working hard to get the sound they desire. 

Mobius silently curses himself for stuttering like an idiot when laying eyes on Loki. Yes, the rock star looked stunning, but that was no reason to make a fool of himself. And his ass, God-

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice says as he brushes past Mobius, breaking him from his thoughts. 

Mobius turns to see O.B., the small man detangling a series of wires. Mobius releases a laugh of glee. “O.B.?!” he asks in disbelief. 

O.B. swivels around and smiles widely once he sees Mobius. “Mobius!” he greets cheerfully. 

Mobius pulls him in for a hug, patting his back. “Old friend, what the hell are you doin’ here?” he questions as he releases him.

“They hired me!” O.B. explains excitedly. “It was right after that scary lady saw you. She then asked me about my experience, then I guess she recommended me to the concert administrators. Now I’m one of the technicians for the Paradise Festivals.”

“Oh, well that’s great!” Mobius congratulates. “I knew you’d move up to somethin’ better. I hope everyone at the studio is doing well.”

“They are,” O.B. confirms. “They had to do some replacements, but I hear they’re keeping up good.” The small man pats Mobius’s arm. “And how about you? An agent for Loki Laufeyson … that’s some real business.”

Mobius tilts his head back and forth. “Comes with some obstacles, but I’m doin’ well.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Someone calls O.B.’s name from backstage. “Oh- that’s my cue to go. I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Mobius grins. “Good luck back there.”

“Enjoy the show!” O.B. calls back as he rushes deeper backstage.

Mobius smiles absentmindedly. Funny guy, that one. 

The announcer speaks up as the microphone chimes on stage. 

“Thank you, Natasha Romanoff!” the announcer says as Romanoff and her crew make their way off stage. “Next up is the glorious… Loki Laufeyson!”

Mobius expects the crowd to cheer. It would be unnatural and awkward if they didn’t. 

But what he doesn’t expect is the audience to go ballistic. 

Absolutely, entirely ballistic. 

Even more ballistic when Loki appears on stage. The drums in the back are already set up for Sylvie and background musicians are taking their places. 

The rock star is a natural at taking praise, grinning like a maniac when he slowly takes his position in the middle of the stage. His blood-red guitar is in his hands, and his fingers are already lightly fiddling with the strings. 

Flashing stage lights add to the effect of elation, the venue lights even taking a prominent shine. 

Loki already has a mic attached to his ear, his voice echoing through the festival as he speaks in a low tone. “Very kind of you, thank you,” he says in gratitude as his fans continue to cheer. 

The rock star begins with a booming chord, which Mobius assumes is the beginning of one of his more famous songs since the crowd gets louder in appreciation. 

Then… he just begins to play. His voice comes in second, which makes its way to Mobius’s heart in an instant, like a cupid’s arrow. Loki’s fingers expertly wander the strings of his guitar as he plays the chorus of his song, energetic and with a heavy beat. But what’s so endearing is how Loki’s voice is opposite to the rough base of the song. It’s melodious and… incredibly sultry. 

Mobius feels his throat go dry, similar to sandpaper. His finger taps against his leg as he tries not to show any obvious reaction. 

Loki begins walking around the stage, hips swaying as he does so. 

Yeah, praise definitely encourages him. 

The rock star continues to play every chord of the song, never missing a beat. His voice is angelic, Mobius decides. Something sent from heaven. 

Or hell. Mobius doesn’t know, but in all honesty, he doesn’t care either. 

While making a rather sensual gesture, one that involves kneeling just a tad to display his backside, Loki makes eye contact with Mobius. 

Mobius inhales a deep breath, but he makes sure not to show any outward reaction. All he does is stare back. 

Desire overwhelms both pairs of eyes, blue irises overflowing like an ocean of water, boiling like the sun. 

Mobius decides to allow his eyes to steep down, then back up to the rock star. The agent can’t help but send an obvious signal of attraction, which Loki returns with his own eyes.

Mobius wants him. The desperation is palpable and the way Loki’s body moves so effortlessly is appealing and a terrible distraction to Mobius’s professionalism. 

Finally, Loki looks away, eyes going back to the crowd. Mobius finally breathes properly. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the festival in one piece. 

Mobius doesn’t know how he gets through the several songs Loki sings in one piece. He thinks an hour passes, but time isn’t relevant when the agent believes his knees will give out any second. 

Several tortuous songs he had to sit through, watch Loki sing like no other, and repeat those delicious dance moves. 

Loki and his crew leave the stage, the crowd cheering them as they go. 

Mobius rubs a hand over his mouth, attempting to keep himself grounded and fucking sane. He doesn’t know if he should go to congratulate Loki or stay put so that he doesn’t do anything irrational. The second option would be smart.

Making up his mind, Mobius goes to find Loki. 

He goes to the dressing room, and just coming out of the room is Sylvie.

 Mobius nods to her. “Now that was a performance.”

Sylvie snorts. “Yeah, yeah. Loki was the one seducing the crowd, not me.”

Not just the crowd, Mobius thinks. “Well, I’ve gotta say, you’re a natural on the drums,” Mobius compliments. 

Sylvie huffs a laugh. “I know I am. No need to remind me.” She gestures to the door. “Loki’s in there.”

“Oh… how did you know I was here to see him?”

She grins deviously, shrugging. “A lucky guess.” She then leaves toward the exit, drumsticks in hand. 

Mobius shrugs off the odd encounter and knocks on the door. A muffled, “Come in, if you must,” sounds behind the door. Mobius scoffs as he opens the door. 

Loki’s putting his guitar back in his case when Mobius enters. Loki’s eyes land on Mobius. “Oh… hello,” he greets. Loki’s eyeliner is slightly smudged and a bead of sweat runs down his forehead. It makes him all the more appealing.

“Hey,” Mobius says, stepping forward. “Loki, you did… really good out there, y’know that?”

Loki visibly blushes at the compliment. “O-Oh, thank you.”

“How long have you been playin’ guitar?”

“I began learning when I was little,” Loki informs, shutting his case carefully. 

Mobius grins. “Seems the practice has paid off. Really, Loki. You were amazing.”

Loki’s flush deepens. “Yes, um- I’m glad you came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” says Mobius, voice soft.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Mobius clears his throat, nodding to the door. “I don’t know if you do meet and greets with fans, but-”

“Not this time,” Loki says. “I’m actually quite ready for a good night’s rest.”

Mobius chuckles. “I don’t doubt it for a second. You worked your ass off. C’mon, I’ll walk you to your driver.”

A small smile appears on Loki’s lips. They walk out the room and down the hall. However, before exiting, they’re stopped by a man calling Loki’s name.

“Loki!” the man calls, jogging toward them. Mobius looks him up and down, observing his disheveled brunette hair and frantic eyes. “I was hopin’ to catch up to you.”

Loki instantly scowls once he sees the man. “Brad,” he greets with distaste.

“Hey, what’s with the sour look? I just wanna talk,” Brad explains. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Loki questions in annoyance. 

“Doin’ my work on the Paradise Festivals,” he replies proudly. His eyes go to Mobius and he nods in acknowledgement. 

Mobius furrows his brows in disgust.

“But- I thought your stories were on politics,” Loki says, confusion settling on his face.

“They were,” Brad confirms. “But… thought I’d switch my stories to celebrities, specifically singers.”

There’s an obvious pause in Loki’s thought process. “Sorry, celebrities?”

“You’ve got it, baby.”

Mobius grits his teeth.

“You blocked my number,” Brad continues. “C’mon, if you could just-”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Loki snaps.

Brad sighs, his eyes going back to Mobius. “Could you leave us alone for a moment?”

“ He doesn’t need to go anywhere,” Loki says. “Because I have nothing more to say to you other than you’re insane.”

Brad scoffs. “Same goes for you. And I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Then you really are delusional,” Loki snips. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m taking my leave-”

“Loki, wait.” Brad grabs Loki’s arm and that does it for Mobius. 

Mobius steps between them to distance Brad from Loki. “Okay, listen, I understand you two probably have a past that I have no business of knowing, but seems like he just wants you to back off,” Mobius says with no harshness, not wanting to waste his anger on a pathetic guy like this. “So… it’s that easy. Back off.”

Brad sneers, eyes narrowing. “And you are?”

“No one important,” Mobius replies. “I’m only giving you some advice.”

Brad seethes, his eyes flickering to Loki and Mobius repeatedly. He points a finger at Loki as he backs away. “Swear to God, you’re gonna fucking regret this.”

Brad then disappears backstage. 

Mobius releases a long breath, looking back at Loki. “You alright?”

Loki nods slowly, looking down at Mobius in… awe? “Um- yes. Quite. I apologize for that.”

“No apologies needed,” Mobius reassures, opening the exit door for Loki, them both being met with refreshing air. 

“I should explain-”

“Loki.” Mobius grins, shrugging. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to. I get it. We all have crazy exes.”

Loki releases a chuckle. “I suppose so, yes.”

“How did he even get backstage? I thought they only opened it for staff.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate him,” says Loki. 

“I won’t underestimate him,” Mobius says. “But that doesn’t meet I have to take him seriously.”

Loki hums. “I don’t either, so that’s one thing we have in common. 

“Yeah, well… I think we have a lot more in common than you think."

Chapter Text

Loki can’t stop staring. 

He couldn’t if he tried. 

Mobius insisted they sit across from each other on the flight to Miami. It’s not a long flight at all, especially compared to the other trips he’s taken to London. 

Mobius took advantage of the first-class area on the plane, sitting across Loki and smiling as if were the most casual thing he could do. He flipped open a notebook and began discussing potential appointments. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki interrupted. “You want… my input?”

Mobius’s eyes flickered up to him, tilting his head with a grin. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

And that… bewildered Loki, to say the least. Though it’s technically a requirement to get input from an agent’s client about appointments and business opportunities, no agent Loki has  bothered to gather his assessment. They would simply make an appointment and expect him to attend. 

And whether or not he would attend was up to his mood. 

“A podcast named RallyTale,” Mobius said, breaking Loki of his thoughts. “They’re always looking for guests and they’re entertaining.” Mobius sent him a pointed look. “And they’re respectful.”

“Rare and unlikely,” Loki returned absently. 

“I know the host,” Mobius mentioned, which made Loki look up in shock. 

“You… do?”

“Yeah, nice guy,” Mobius said. “Trust me. Not only are you gonna have a good time, but you’ll also get positive feedback.”

“You seem certain about this…” Loki said, unsure. 

“I am,” Mobius confirmed. He gave him a reassuring look. “Look, the group in the podcast are down to earth. I’m sort of a regular customer for them, if you will. I love sendin’ my clients there and I’ve never had a problem with the studio.”

“They have a studio in Miami?”

“Not exactly. Their main studio is in New York, but once I told them that you may be available as a guest, they insisted they meet us up in Miami.” 

Loki didn’t say anything after that, only excusing himself to the restroom. 

He has never been on a podcast before, never really seeing the reason when big time interviewers offered their services. But Mobius… he makes sure he’s comfortable, not rushing into an interview appointment with trendy stars in the industry. 

It’s nice. New. 

Once Loki got back from the restroom, he paused in his step. 

Mobius… asleep in his seat. 

And that’s what Loki can’t stop staring at. 

Now Loki wonders how long the man has been hiding his exhaustion. He’s been working endlessly to find acceptable appointments and since the industry is so large, Loki imagines how much research the agent put into this. 

Loki looks around, pondering whether he should sit here or take a different seat. 

He takes the seat across from Mobius, not able to resist the beauty of this man sleeping so soundly and peacefully. 

The agent’s head is rest against the window, his notebook slipping in his lap. Loki catches it before it falls, putting it on the armrest for safe keeping. 

Loki allows himself a small smile at the thought of Mobius falling asleep so quickly, without trouble. 

Loki remembers Mobius knocking out on the sofa in his hotel room when he was so drunk, when the man took care of him without thought, almost on instinct. 

Loki’s face heats at the memory. Mobius looked quite delectable then as well, in only a white shirt that clung to him nicely and jeans, his gray hair stuck up in various places. 

The rock star licks his lips, shifting in his seat. 

This needs to stop. This flirtation and unwarranted thoughts. 

But Loki doesn’t want to stop. Mobius is unlike anyone he’s ever met. He’s surprised Loki on several occasions and he’s just so striking, Loki can’t get enough of it.

When he was on stage a night ago in New Orleans, when he was playing for what seemed like the world, he didn’t miss Mobius’s stares. 

Fuck, it did something to Loki… something unprecedented that flicked a switch in his brain. 

And it wasn’t just a stare, a look. It was the way he looked at him. 

With… approval. 

Loki doesn’t think Mobius realized he was staring at him with the smallest of smirks, his irises flooding with depth, it almost made Loki whimper right then and there. 

He sucks in a shaky breath, averting his eyes from the sleeping man. 

This is going to be a long flight. 

Disappointment strikes through Loki like an arrow. 

He didn’t even think, didn’t even fathom that him and Mobius wouldn’t be in the same sleeping quarters. 

Because, well… when Loki’s father had a series of concerts in Miami due to a business deal, he bought a villa close to the beach because why the hell not? When he left Thor and Loki in London for almost a year, leaving them in their flat in Chelsea. 

Loki asked (begged) for his father to take him, not wanting to stay in their flat full of memories at every turn. He’d wanted to visit Miami anyway, away from the chill of England and surrounded by beaches and sun. 

His father denied his requests, only sending a tight smile when he left through the door and to his private car. 

Loki shakes off the foggy memory once they arrive at the villa. Palm trees are trailed in a line across the long pathway of an entrance, gates guarding the building like towers. The villa holds large windows, it being two storied with wide floors. 

It’s not surreal, not anything special in Loki’s eyes. He’s seen pictures before, and it’s not the first house that his father has purchased due to long stays in certain cities. 

Loki peers over at Mobius who’s sitting next to him in the vehicle, who’s staring at the villa in utter awe. 

“Jesus Christ… this is yours?” Mobius asks, eyes scanning the property. 

“My… father’s, yes,” Loki says. He huffs. “Quite extravagant.”

“Fits you just right,” Mobius comments. “And look at that, you have ten different bedrooms all to yourself, one for every night,” he teases. 

Loki holds an unexpected laugh. “I need a different bed each night to get my proper beauty sleep,” he teases back. 

Mobius chuckles. “Just what I thought.”

Loki almost blurts that maybe Mobius could stay with him, maybe he could take a room and Loki wouldn’t be so lonely in such a large space. 

But he doesn’t due to sheer stubbornness. That’s too much, too bold of an offer. 

And Mobius would undoubtedly decline. 

“Yes, well… I’ll-”

“You ever been to Miami before?”

The sudden question catches Loki off guard. “Uh- no. This is my first time.”

Mobius raises his brows in surprise. “Oh, there’s a lot to see, in hardly any time.” Mobius clears his throat, running a hand through his growing gray hair. 

Loki strives not to bite his lip at the action. 

“I’ve been here more times than I can count,” Mobius says, almost in a whisper. “I could show you around tomorrow. Get you familiar with the place.”

And Loki can’t help but lean a little closer, his voice equally low. “And why, pray tell, would I have to get to know the city when I’m performing in one specific area?”

Mobius’s answer is quick, “‘Cause it never hurts to learn new things, explore new places.”

“And you can teach me new things?” Loki asks, almost purposefully innocent. 

Mobius’s cheeks noticeably flush. He huffs a laugh, looking away and breaking the spell of traction. “Uh-huh. So, you up for it?”

Loki is close to scowling at the man for disturbing their growing tension. “Yes. I suppose.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Mobius laughs, leaning back in his seat. “Now, why don’t you get settled, huh? And you might wanna scout your villa. Don’t want you gettin’ lost.”

This time, Loki does scowl. “I’ll try not to,” he tells him. 

Mobius only grins. “Good.”

Loki rolls his eyes and steps out of the vehicle, grabbing his bags from the trunk and striding to the entrance, trying to keep his racing heart at bay. 

Loki is used to being on his own. 

He’s stayed in hotel rooms with no company before, he’s stayed in mansions and villas without the comfort of someone by his side. While he usually would call for a person’s presence, he’s had nights where he knew no one would satisfy him properly. 

And since he’s in a city with no acquaintances, no familiarities, he stays in one of the bedrooms with the warmest colors and the softest bed because no one can blame him for at least desiring the feeling of bundling up close to someone. 

Loki hugs his pillow embarrassingly tight, smushing his cheek against the bedding as he tries to capture sleep in his grasp. 

And he imagines a certain agent sleeping next to him, Loki’s head resting on his sturdy chest and his mustache brushing his skin. 

He imagines it… and he bites his lip hard, grasping his pillow tight in pure yearning. 

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Oh, Mobius has missed this. 

The sun is actually shining and it graces the streets. Loki sent a quick text of the code to his gate and Mobius had no trouble getting in the extravagant property. 

Because holy cow it’s somethin’. Loki, however, seemed completely unimpressed and Mobius didn’t ask any further questions, only settling on teasing him instead of prying. 

Miami is one of the place Mobius can’t get enough of. Beaches are in every wake of the city and Mobius has a love for the addicting smell of the ocean and the breeze that goes with it. 

He has a habit of letting loose, of basking in the fresh air and shorelines, the view never a disappointment. He wears a loose Hawaiian shirts, one of his favorites that he likes to shrug on during summers. When he looked in his reflection this morning, he made a note to get a haircut, it getting longer than he prefers. 

Now he’s rung the doorbell and he waits for the double doors to open. 

He’ll admit he’s a little nervous. 

This isn’t anything special, just a tour, as Mobius himself claimed. 

But when Loki opens the door, his blue irises settling on him, Mobius’s nerves increase because why does he always have to look so damn good all the time. 

A fitting shirt that defines his figure and of course, of course he’ll wear those tight pants that make his ass look so-

“Mobius?”

Mobius forces himself to stop staring at the rock star, clearing his throat. “You ready?”

Loki nods and when Mobius takes a clearer look at his face, he furrows his brows. “You get any sleep last night?” he asks in concern. 

Loki blinks, his fingers rubbing his eyes to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Yeah, just-”

“We can skip, Loki. How about-”

“No!” Loki’s cheeks heat at his immediate answer. “I mean… no. No, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Loki huffs. “Mobius.”

“Alright, alright,” Mobius chuckles. “C’mon. I’m your tour guide now, right? Better trust me on givin’ you a good excursion.”

“Wait,” Loki says, slipping back through the door. Mobius waits patiently and Loki comes back with dark sunglasses on. 

Mobius laughs, pointing a knowing finger. “Well thought.”

“Not something I prefer, but it will have to do,” Loki says with a grimace as he puts his raven hair in a loose bun. 

Mobius licks his lips, noticing the action making the rock star’s pale neck readily available. 

Jesus, stop. 

“Hey, I think you look snazzy,” Mobius compliments. 

“God, don’t say ‘snazzy’ ever again,” Loki complains as he shuts his door. 

“Fine. Groovy.”

Loki sighs. “I think your soul purpose is to get on my nerves.”

“How’d you figure it out? Anyway, c’mon. It’s already gettin’ close to noon and I don’t want the food markets getting too crowded.”

Mobius has a weak spot for markets, he’ll admit it. 

The food courts, the food trucks, local shops, local bands playing on compact stages… it’s such a satisfying atmosphere that he always feels so carefree, it should be concerning. 

Mobius takes a peak at Loki, who  seems a little out of place. He’s quieter than usual, his eyes swishing around the market center as if at any minute the place will collapse. And Mobius can’t blame the rock star. He’s always trapped in hotel rooms due to fear of exposure and he’s always had a leash on him that he can’t discard from. 

Through the crowd of people and seating areas, Mobius spots an ice cream stand. He grins and nudges Loki, who looks down at him in consideration. 

“You like sweets?” Mobius asks. 

“Uh- I’m not sure,” Loki admits. 

Mobius blinks at him. “What do you mean your not sure?”

“I mean that I haven’t had… sweets since childhood. I suppose I like grapes and-”

Mobius barks a laugh. “No wonder you’re so bitter. C’mon.”

Mobius guides Loki through the crowd with a hand on his back, and he can’t help but brush his thumb against the prominent muscle, which he feels the rock star shiver at. 

A menu of various ice cream flavors fill the side of the ice cream stand, the board almost as tall as Mobius. 

“Okay, choose,” Mobius prompts, eyes scanning the options himself. 

Loki’s lips gape. “I’m on a strict diet,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Which it is, Mobius supposes. But it’s also the saddest thing in the world because what does he mean he can’t try the flavorful food that’s out there?

“I’m sure you can have a cheat day,” Mobius reasons, looking up at the rock star with sincere eyes. 

“Mobius, you can’t be this dull. I have an appearance to keep, I-”

“Loki,” Mobius interrupts softly. “Choose a flavor.”

Loki sends him a glare, which the agent ignores with no trouble. The rock star releases a long sigh and crosses his arms, scanning the options just as Mobius did. 

“I… don’t know which one I’d like,” Loki says, shifting his feet. 

“When I don’t know what to get, I just choose strawberry,” Mobius offers with a grin. “This place seems legit, I’m sure it’s good.”

“Fine. Strawberry.”

“Good choice. How about you stand over there and I’ll get our orders in, yeah?”

Loki nods, doing as Mobius suggests. 

By each minute, Mobius sees Loki’s shoulders loosen and his rigid stance is beginning to ease. Mobius can’t help but smile at the thought of Loki letting loose. 

As Mobius gathers their two bowls of ice cream and turns to Loki, he sees the rock star interacting with two fans, their eyes lighting with excitement and awe. 

And Loki seems… grateful for their dedication as he smiles at the camera when they ask for a picture. 

Mobius’s heart warms at the sight. 

He’s then again reminded how loyal Loki is to music, how the rock star seems to appreciate what he does. While Mobius knows for a fact Loki probably went into the business for approval or fame at first, he can now see that Loki recognizes what it entails. 

When the two animated fans take their leave, Mobius steps forward. “Should’ve known you’d catch attention.”

Loki takes the ice cream Mobius offers him. “Of course I would,” he says with no shame. 

Mobius laughs, then continues walking down the street, Loki right beside him. “Try it,” he says, nodding to the cup of strawberry ice cream in Loki’s hand. 

Hesitantly, as if it’ll bite him, Loki scoops a swirl of ice cream in his small spoon, then tastes it. Instantly, he makes a groan of approval, which Mobius’s stomach whirls at. 

“Good, huh?” Mobius asks with a knowing grin. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had ice cream,” Loki admits in a low voice. “If I’ve ever had it.”

Mobius chuckles. “Well, today’s your lucky day.”

“What did you get?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” Mobius says, as if it’s the obvious choice. 

“Oh, excuse me, old man, that I didn’t guess your favorite ice cream flavor. As if I would know.

Mobius snorts. “I may be old, but I have good taste.”

Loki chuckles with him, which is music to the agent’s ear. 

Suddenly, Mobius overhears a conversation coming from a seating area just a few feet away from them. 

“Yeah, and he’s here! Like- in this area,” a woman says in a buzzing voice. 

“Are you sure it’s Loki Laufeyson?” another woman asks, a younger voice. 

“Yeah, he’s- oh, he’s right there!” the woman says, spotting them. 

Loki releases a drawn-out breath. “So much for the glasses.”

“Yeah, like that was ever gonna work. C’mon,” Mobius says, grabbing his arm in sheer reaction and leading him down the street and behind a corner. 

He spots an opening through two shops, it narrow, but dark, so it will do. Mobius excuses himself through the crowd as he rushes to the passageway. 

Just in time, Loki and Mobius squish in there, chests pressing together. 

Now there’s not even two women, but a flock of them. 

Mobius feels Loki shaking, and he snaps his head up in concern. However, all concern dissipates when he sees the rock star holding in laughter. Mobius can’t help but smile, kicking Loki’s foot.

“You wanna get caught?” Mobius asks as his lips quirk up more and more.

“Sorry, but this is ridiculous,” Loki says in a strained voice. 

“Where’d he go?” one of the women ask, almost desperately. 

Loki and Mobius step deeper into the opening in sync. 

“You said he was here!”

“I- he was!”

“Liar. You probably just saw someone who looked like him.”

A snort sounds from Mobius and Loki shushes him.

“God, you’re bad at this,” Loki whispers with a growing smile. 

“I’m not! You started it,” Mobius returns, whispering as well. 

“Yes, well you dragged us in here.”

“It was necessary unless you want me to push you back out there so you can have girls pullin’ all over you.”

Loki huffs, but the small grin doesn’t leave his lips. “And you couldn’t have chose anywhere better?”

“I saved your life.”

The women give up a minute later, walking out of sight in disappointment. 

The two men burst out in laughter, unable to keep it together any longer. 

Mobius has never felt more alive.

As their laughter dissipates by each second, their breaths grow heavier. Their eyes lock and soon, only a faint smile is on their lips. 

Mobius holds his cup of ice cream tighter, feeling the edges beginning to stain with melting mint chocolate chip. 

Mobius wonders if Loki’s lips taste like strawberry. He wonders if his neck tastes like the sun. He wonders if his moans would be quiet or loud. He wonders if Loki writhes on the sheets when receiving pleasure. 

“Mobius…” Loki whispers, his voice strained but for a different reason this time. 

He presses closer to Mobius, his eyes eager and pleading. His hand presses to Mobius’s chest, then begins to trail to his neck. 

The heat is palpable in this small space, surrounding their bodies with no mercy. 

Shit. What the fuck am I doing?

Mobius slips out of the opening before Loki can do anything further. 

Before Mobius himself loses control. 

Dismay is written on Loki’s face, but Mobius tries to ignore it the best he can.

“Uh- I should- I’ll drop you off back at your villa. We don’t want you gettin’ seen again. This time we might not be so lucky,” Mobius excuses, looking anywhere besides Loki. 

Loki nods slowly, but he doesn’t say anything, which pains Mobius. 

No matter how difficult it may be, he can’t lose control. 

It’s the last thing he wants to do. 

Because if Mobius loses control, he doesn’t know if he’ll stop himself from going deeper into the trance which is Loki Laufeyson. 

Chapter Text

Loki is nervous. Nervous to the point a heavy lump is unmoving in his throat. 

Loki swallows, just as angry. But there’s also humiliation coursing through him. “I’m not in their shadow any longer,” he says, not bothering to make himself sound pleased to be here anymore. “My father and brother are well known in the industry, but I make my original music. I’ve built up my career properly, and-”

“Oh, Mr. Laufeyson,” Allegra chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s no surprise that your music is decent, but your reputation…” She hisses through her teeth. “We all know it’s no dream.”

The memory repeats in Loki’s mind as he observes the small studio which he sits in. The studio is in the less crowded area of Miami, where the streets are mostly filled with local mom and pop shops. One of the staff members led him to a dressing room, a smaller, more run-down one. He’s sat in his chair, jittering in the seat. What if the same occurrence happens? What if the podcast group is just as insensitive? What if-

“Loki,” Mobius says gently, Loki shivering when Mobius places a hand on his shoulder. “I can tell you’re tense. But trust me, these guys are nothing like the arrogant ones you’ll find in Hollywood.”

Loki hopes so. 

Just then, one of the technicians come in, nodding to Loki in a gesture. “Five minutes, Mr. Laufeyson. You can come to the main room to participate in sound check, if you’d like.” He then leaves, leaving Loki to try to calm his growing, rapid breathing. Fuck, why is he feeling so much panic?

Loki’s cheeks turn warm as he feels a hand grip his chin. The rock star blinks in surprise as he looks up to find Mobius’s calm demeanor. 

“It’s not gonna happen again,” Mobius whispers. “I promise you, Loki. I will never allow what happened with Allegra to happen to you again.”

Even if Loki is sitting down, he feels his knees go weak. No one has ever reassured him in such a way before. Loki swallows, then nods, hoping he isn’t showing obvious signs of being aroused at the fact that Mobius is gripping his chin so powerfully, and should he be looking into this gesture? It seems more than professional, and-

“Do you understand?” Mobius asks, eyes never leaving his. 

Loki nods. “I understand,” he responds, voice hoarse. 

“Good.” Mobius lets go of his chin and, as if to get a hold of himself, fixes his suit jacket. He waves his arm toward the door, clearing his throat. “After you.”

When arriving in the recording room, a group of people are sat around a table, microphones in front of them. They’re laughing, nudging each other, talking with the technicians who are adjusting the equipment. 

A man with blond hair and deep blue eyes spots Mobius. A wide smile spreads his lips as he stands and walks over to Mobius, patting his arm as he shakes his hand. in 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Mobius M. Mobius decided to finally show up for a session, huh?” the man teases, a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

“Clint, good to see you again,” Mobius greets, a grin on his face. He nods to Loki. “I’d like you to meet my client-”

“Oh, you don’t even have to tell me,” Clint says, releasing Mobius’s hand to shake Loki’s. “I’m a huge fan. Your work is great.”

Loki is at a loss for words. He clears his throat, returning Clint’s handshake with a firm one of his own. “I appreciate you having me here.”

“And we’re glad to have you.” Clint looks back as one of the men calls his name, signaling that they only have a few minutes to spare. “Okay, hey, we’re gonna ask questions about your career. Basic stuff that I’m sure you’ll do just fine answering.” Clint winks. “And we can edit out any unnecessary stuttering.” He pats Loki’s arm, then heads back to his seat. 

Mobius nudges Loki’s shoulder. “You’re gonna do great. Just be yourself, okay?”

Loki releases a long breath, then goes to his seat without comment, too nervous to think about anything else other than the underlying fear of invasive questions.

After a short few minutes, Loki having headphones on and a mic in front of him, one of the men are counting down the seconds until recording starts. Loki practically jumps when Clint begins talking in a lively voice:

“Hello, RallyTale Nation! Welcome back to another episode, I hope you are all having a great week. If not, then, well, sorry to heart that. Today we have a very special guest, one that you youngsters are beginning to fall head over heels for: Loki Laufeyson!”

Loki gathers himself, forcing himself to break out of his enclosure shell. “Hello, Clint. I’m… happy to be here.” The prominent sound of his voice catches him off guard, the waves of noise settling into his ear due to the headphones. 

“And we are happy to have you. Tell us, what brings you to Miami? To those who are not up to date, that is.”

“Uh- well, there are the Paradise Festivals going on. I’ve already done a performance in New Orleans, thank you to all who came, by the way, and in just a few days, I will also be attending a Paradise Concert in Miami as well.” Loki takes a quiet breath. This is a lot easier than he thought.

A woman, the only one there, speaks up, “Wow, that must be hard work! Constantly rehearsing, I mean.”

“It can be,” Loki agrees. “However, sometimes I don’t even notice the work. When you enjoy something so much, it’s difficult to get tired of it.”

“If only I could say that about my job,” one of the men comment, which makes everyone laugh, including Loki. 

“Loki, how do you usually prepare for your performances?” the woman asks. 

“Usually, I’m hiding in a dark corner so they don’t have to drag me on stage,” Loki says, which receives a bark of a laugh from Clint. “No, but really, I suppose I simply get into a mindset where the only focus is my fans.”

“Yeah, well, it’s obvious that you’re grateful for your audience.”

“I really am,” Loki says, and he means it. 

“Now, let’s look at some iconic performances you’ve done in the past,” Clint says, and Loki feels himself swim in the comfort that these questions and comments are… good. Really good. 

Loki takes a peek on the other side of the glass, catching Mobius’s eye. 

The agent is already sending him a knowing smile.

“You did fantastic, Loki,” Mobius compliments as Loki’s driver escorts him back to the villa, Mobius tagging along for the ride. “That was some good stuff.”

Loki can’t help the pleasant shiver that courses through him at Mobius’s praise. “I suppose it was alright,” he says, though a small smile plays at his lips. 

“Uh-huh. And ‘alright’ is another word for absolutely, incredibly amazing, right?”

“If you’d like to see it that way.” Mobius gives him a pointed look and Loki huffs. “Yes, Mobius. Obviously it was great. Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m looking for,” Mobius says with a grin. “Gratitude.”

Loki hums. “That’s the only time you’re receiving it from me.”

“I think this calls for a celebration,” Mobius says. 

Loki quirks a brow. “A celebration for a small podcast interview?”

“No, no. Don’t make it less significant than it is.”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to celebrate.”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth,” Mobius chuckles. “C’mon. I rented a little Airbnb. I have a grill out back. Why don’t you invite Sylvie, Casey, and some other people in your crew? It’ll be fun.”

Loki studies him. “Mobius, you know I have a whole villa to myself, yes?”

Mobius only shrugs. “And?”

“And that would obviously be a much more appropriate location for festivities.”

The agent laughs. “I’m not looking for a huge party. I mean a get-together.”

“A… get-together?”

“It’s when friends get together and have fun.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Thank you for the unneeded explanation.”

“So, what do you say?”

“We’ll do it at my villa.”

“Oh, well-” Mobius hesitates. “I mean, I also wanted to bring a friend of mine, and I wouldn’t wanna impose or anything, so… that’s why I suggested my place.”

Loki has to stop himself from climbing on the man and nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck in an even more hopeless expression of gratitude. Mobius looking after his boundaries… not inviting people without a warning… god, maybe it’s only the bare minimum, but to Loki, it’s everything. 

“No, it- it’s fine,” says Loki. “Who would you like to invite?”

“Just a guy I used to work with. O.B. Harmless fella. He’s one of the head technicians for the Paradise Festivals, so he’s already in Miami,” Mobius explains. 

“O.B.” Loki tries the name on his tongue. “Odd name.”

“And Loki isn’t?”

“Do shut up before I make you.”

Mobius grins dangerously. Loki flushes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“So you get this and I get a fucking hotel room?” Sylvie asks incredulously, eyes scanning the interior of the villa as Loki pours her a drink. 

“You could’ve asked to stay, you know,” says Loki, handing the drink to Sylvie. 

Sylvie hums, taking a sip of her glass. “Thought you’d be fucking your agent and hearing you two all night didn’t seem like a pleasant thought.” 

Loki’s cheeks flush crimson. “I’m not doing anything with him.”

“On that stage you were, when you were going down on the floor, making eye contact with him every millisecond.” Sylvie imitates him, making an overdramatic pleasured expression as she dances sensually. “Oh, Mobius!” she moans. “Oh my god, look at me dance and shake my tush for you!”

Loki sneers. “Charming.”

“Accurate,” she bites back, grinning. 

People arrive at different times, Bee coming after Sylvie. Then Casey arrives, holding a block of cheese in his hands in case they decide to use it with crackers. Loki doesn’t know where Casey got the idea that he has crackers stored in the villa, but he doesn’t comment. 

Loki hears the doorbell and immediately knows it’s Mobius. He opens the door, pleased to see that the agent is wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts. A small man is next to him too, simply looking pleased to be here. 

“Hey,” Mobius greets, scanning Loki from top to bottom. 

Loki refrains from biting his lip. Yes, he decided to go for something more… alluring. Black pants that have a bit of flare, a tank top that reveals the slimmest piece of skin… it was Sylvie’s idea. 

Loki begins to feel self conscious (which is extremely unusual for him), thinking that Mobius is somehow judging him. But when he looks into Mobius’s eyes… he sees something deeper. 

Lust. 

“Hi, I’m O.B.!” the small man greets with a wide smile, shaking Loki’s hand. 

Loki blinks out of his daze and shakes his hand back with the little strength he has. “Yes, uh- pleased to meet you.”

“I’m a huge fan,” O.B. says as he continues to shake Loki’s hand. “I’m a technician at the festivals, you know. I hope it’s okay that I came to your little party. Mobius said it was, but I just wanted to make sure with you first.”

“Uh-” Loki gently takes his hand away. “Yes. It’s fine.”

“Great!” 

“Right, well, since you two already introduced each other,” says Mobius, “mind if we come in?”

“Oh- yes, of course.” Loki steps aside, allowing both the men in. 

Before Loki can continue on in the living room, Mobius steps to his side, eyeing him carefully. 

Loki’s breath hitches. 

Mobius grins, licking his lips.

Fuck. 

“You look real good tonight. Just to let you know,” Mobius says in a low voice. 

And before Loki can respond, he joins the rest of the group. 

Fuck. 

Mobius brought his own supplies for grilling. Loki has never admittedly had a grilled feast, but Mobius insisted, especially since the villa came with a large grill in the backyard. 

Everyone takes seats in the lounge circle, the fresh air nice as the breeze of the oceans comes forth in the darkening sky. Candles are lit across the venue and some lamps as well. Patches of freshly grown plants are scattered among the patio, and everything is just… nice. Loki has never been this relaxed, he’s never been among people he doesn’t need to hide around, or put up a façade with. And everyone isn’t caged into awkward silence. No. Surprisingly, they all talk with ease. 

“Okay, okay,” Bee says, still laughing at a comment Sylvie quipped. “There is no way in hell, Loki, that you planned this.”

Loki rolls his eyes, leaning farther back on the cushion as he takes a sip of the Campari Spritz Sylvie insist she make for him at the mini-bar just on the side of the villa. “You know me too well, Bee. Mobius convinced me.”

Mobius smirks where he stands at the grill, flipping a patty on the sizzling base. Loki admires the white apron he wears… he just looks so natural like this. “Though it wasn’t too difficult,” Mobius says. 

“Well, I’m glad he did, cause, damn, Mobius.” Bee sniffs the delicious smell that floats in the air. “What are you making over there?”

“Something simple and probably not as impressive as you think,” Mobius says. 

“Mobius always cooks great!” O.B. informs. “At the studio we used to work at, whenever we had get togethers like this, we never failed to beg him to cook for us.”

Mobius grins to himself, but doesn’t comment. 

Loki wants to kiss him. 

“So, you guys excited for the next concert?” Casey asks, flipping through a magazine Loki had lying around. 

“Ugh, not at all,” says Sylvie, resting her feet on Bee’s lap as she fully stretches on the sofa. Bee sends her a glare. “So much rehearsing.”

“But it pays off!” Casey argues. 

“To an extent,” Sylvie returns. 

“We’re gonna have to figure out your outfit, Loki,” says Bee, smiling excitedly. “Something summer-ish, I’m guessing, since we’re in Miami.”

Loki shrugs. “I haven’t thought that far.”

“I should have a dresser,” Sylvie sighs. 

“You could hire one,” says Loki. 

“Too much work.”

“My mom’s coming to watch me,” Casey says with a small smile, his eyes reminiscing. “I can’t wait.”

“Oh, that’s exciting!” exclaims O.B. 

“She’ll be proud,” Bee says. She clears her throat, then looks at Loki, her voice hesitant. “Are any of your family members coming, Loki?”

Loki stills. It’s silent for a while, and he doesn’t just feel everyone’s eyes on him… but especially Mobius’s. “I, uh- I’m not quite sure.”

Bee nods, then drops the topic, not questioning him any further. Everyone continues how they were.

The evening comes to an end after everyone has a full belly. Mobius made hamburgers and hot dogs, and some other various pieces of meet that felt sweet and savory on Loki’s tongue. God, Mobius can grill wonderfully. Loki never bothered to enjoy what he ate, most of it is low calorie and disgustingly flavorless, but this food actually made him end up grabbing more to his plate. Loki didn’t miss the pleased smile Mobius gave him. 

After a few more drinks, shared laughs, and teasing conversations that went on and on, everyone begins taking their leave. There is no rush to get out the door. In fact, Loki wonders if his guests (Friends? No. Ridiculous) are stalling by continuing to poke fun at the villa and how posh it is. 

Finally, the last guest is Mobius. O.B. reassured that he would be fine taking a cab, so Mobius didn’t have to worry. 

Loki is walking Mobius toward the door, his chest aching with the possibility that maybe, somehow, Mobius could stay. Because while it was nice having others over and enjoying their company… at the moment, he just wants Mobius. 

Before Mobius can even touch the doorknob, he swivels around to face Loki. “You know what,” he starts, “there are some interview propositions for you. If you want, I could stay and… we could go through them together?”

Relief surges through Loki. “Yes. That would be acceptable,” he responds, his breath short. 

Mobius nods, a small grin on his lips. “Good. Yeah, I just thought… y’know, after that last concert, so many other opportunities have come up and we could sort through them, see what you might like and what might be beneficial.”

The large villa is quiet beside their footsteps to the top floor, where an extra lounge/office is set in one of the rooms. It has a desk in the corner and a large sofa in the middle with other small chairs surrounding it. Eccentric paintings are plastered to the walls and a soft lamp light is on the side table, the only source of light for the dim room. 

It would be smart to sit at the desk. There are two chairs and it’s certainly big enough for the laptop and writing supplies Mobius brought in the bag that accompanied him. 

They decide the sofa. 

Mobius makes a slight groan of relief as he sits on the soft cushion, and Loki realizes he barely saw Mobius sit at all tonight. He’s been so busy making food or attending to the guests, which should have been Loki’s job, but he insisted. 

The tension is so heavy, even if neither of them acknowledge it. Everything is so tense, Loki feels his whole body heating up, his eyes are wandering Mobius, Mobius’s eyes are wandering Loki in what they both think are subtle looks, but they’re not, they’re anything but. 

And as Loki watches Mobius unbutton the top collar of his shirt, revealing slight chest hair, something dark snaps in him. 

He wants this man. 

Loki craves this man. 

Loki wants to kiss his skin, his sharp jaw, his long nose, his pouty lips, his stomach, his thighs, his fucking everything. 

Mobius looks up at Loki with a curious expression. “You okay?”

No. No, Loki is not okay. Loki feels his cock twitch in his tight pants, he feels his body getting tingly, he feels so much and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

With a trembling breath, Loki steps forward. He stops, then steps forward again. He walks up to Mobius until he’s standing right in front of him. Mobius stares at him with wide eyes. He’s about to say something before Loki straddles him, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Mobius’s chest visibly moves up and down, his breath heavy. “Loki, what-”

“Please,” is all Loki whispers, his hands cupping Mobius’s face. 

Mobius looks conflicted, so conflicted. Loki can tell he wants to protest, he wants to do something to stop this unprofessional scene… but when Loki leans forward, Mobius’s eyes turn droopy, amorous. 

Their lips meet. 

It’s brief, but oh, Loki can feel how deliciously soft Mobius’s lips are. He wants more, more. He wants to memorize the shape of them. 

They part, and even if it was a simple kiss, their breaths are short. 

They stare at each other for a few short, long moments. 

Mobius is the one who breaks first. 

He grabs Loki’s hips and pulls him closer, his lips capturing his with desperation. Loki moans in relief, moving his lips along with Mobius’s. Loki turns his head to receive a better angle, and it’s as if they’re devouring each other with every kiss, every taste. 

Mobius releases a stiff groan as Loki rolls his hips needily. Mobius sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss. “Loki-”

“Mobius,” Loki whimpers back, kissing him again as his hips move more sensually, their clothed members brushing together. 

Mobius lets out a breathless moan, holding Loki’s hips so tight, Loki’s sure there will be bruises. Their foreheads are pressed together as they both watch Loki’s hips move in filthy rolls. Loki’s mind instantly goes to his previous concert, when Mobius couldn’t take his eyes off Loki dancing, moving his body for him. 

“Sweetheart,” Mobius breathes, shaking his head. “Loki, we can’t-”

Loki’s hands come to grip Mobius’s shoulders as he practically keens at the pet name. His lips go to Mobius’s ear. “Please,” Loki says, his voice desperate. “Mobius, please. I need you. Please.”

Mobius’s hand moves to Loki’s lower back, rubbing soothingly. “Fuck, baby, you’re makin’ it difficult to say no to you.”

Loki moans as his and Mobius’s cocks move together in a particular way, sending pleasure up his spine. “Don’t say no,” Loki practically begs. Begs? “Please, Mobius. I- I just need you.”

A sigh leaves Mobius’s lips. For a moment, Loki’s afraid it’s rejection, but he quickly learns it’s one of defeat as he’s suddenly being lead to lay on his back on the sofa cushion. Loki feels his head turn wonderfully blank with lust as Mobius leans over him and captures his lips. 

Loki moans as Mobius’s tongue joins in, swirling it with Loki’s. Loki jolts his hips up, wanting the same friction as before. Mobius understands his request and pushes his hips down, breaking the kiss. 

“Let me get these tight things off you, sweetheart,” he whispers, unzipping Loki’s pants. He pauses, looking down at Loki with questioning eyes. “That okay?”

“Fuck, more than, please!” Loki moans, needing relief. 

A slight grin covers Mobius’s lips as the older man pulls down Loki’s pants, then boxer shorts. Loki whimpers as his cock juts out, hitting the cool air. 

“God, that’s gorgeous,” Mobius murmurs, his eyes staring at Loki’s member hungrily. His hand comes to wrap around his cock and Loki makes a noise he’s never heard himself make, his hips arching into Mobius. “So good, Loki. So good.”

Loki whimpers as Mobius’s hand slowly strokes his cock, his legs spreading for more access. Mobius sucks in a deep breath at the sight, chuckling in disbelief… and in nervousness, Loki catches. “Let’s get this off you, huh?” he says as he gently pulls on Loki’s shirt. Loki huffs, not knowing why he didn’t think of that sooner. He shucks off his shirt, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Mobius groans, beginning to kiss down Loki’s chest, savoring up and down his collarbone. Loki’s hand comes to grip Mobius’s hair as Mobius gives an experimental lick to Loki’s pink nipple. “So pretty,” he rumbles, sucking on the bud. 

Loki bites his lip hard. God, this is so different. Not even Brad made him feel like this, so exposed and wanting. 

Loki tugs on Mobius’s shirt. “You too,” he demands. 

Mobius chuckles, then quickly unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the side when he gets it off his shoulders.

Loki can feel himself salivating. Fuck, Mobius is everything. Absolutely everything. His arms are strong, his belly a little soft and his chest, fuck. 

Loki’s hands wander Mobius’s body, his eyes captivated. He licks his lips as he gestures for Mobius to take his pants off with a tug. “Off.”

Mobius grins, saying, “Impatient,” as he unzips his pants, then takes them off with impressive swiftness. Soon, he’s fully naked and Loki thinks he may lose it, shoot off right then and there.

Mobius tilts his hips down and oh, their cocks touch. Loki moans, biting on Mobius’s neck as the agent groans, gripping Loki’s thigh. “Loki… Jesus, that’s good.”

Loki whimpers, allowing desperation take over him as he practically ruts into Mobius, craving the perfect slide of their cocks. “Please, please,” he begs. 

“Alright, baby, just-”

“N-No, Mobius, I- I need you, I-”

“Loki-”

“No, I-”

“Loki.”

Oh. He’s never heard Mobius use that tone of voice. It’s firm, though deliciously low and quiet. 

“Take deep breaths,” he instructs, soothing Loki’s thigh as he kisses every part of his neck. Loki feels his whole body flush. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want- I want you in me, Mobius. I want you to fuck me,” Loki says, pressing closer into Mobius. 

Mobius brings his head up, looking into Loki’s eyes. “Loki… I don’t-”

“Please,” Loki says, his voice frantic. “I- I have condoms and lube in- in the drawer, and-”

“Loki,” Mobius’s voice is soft. His eyes are like steel, and Loki has never seen them such a way. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I don’t- I don’t wanna leave you with any regrets, and-”

“I want it so bad, Mobius,” Loki reassures, his hands trailing Mobius’s arms. “Please. It’s what I want.”

After a few moments, Mobius nods. He looks around and Loki tells him where the supplies are. Mobius is able to successfully reach forward and pull a drawer open to retrieve a condom and bottle of lube. 

Mobius slicks up a finger and pats Loki’s thigh gently. “Spread a little more, sweetheart.”

Loki whimpers and spreads his legs wider, refraining from shutting his eyes tight at such a vulnerable position. Mobius presses a few kisses to his lips, slow and tender. “You ready?”

Loki nods, licking his lips. “Yes.”

Loki has done this so many times… but now, it feels so new. Why does it feel as if Mobius is his first?

A finger presses against his hole and Loki sighs in pleasure. Mobius’s finger first swirls around his hole and Loki whimpers, pressing back down in desperation. “Please,” he says quietly. “I- I can’t take-”

“Okay, gorgeous,” Mobius whispers against his lips. “M’sorry. I won’t tease.”

Loki’s eyes threaten to roll in the back of his head as a finger enters him. He moans as Mobius begins to push in and out, in and out. 

So gentle. 

“That feel good?” Mobius asks, sitting up a little. 

“Y-Yes…” Loki says in a quiet voice. 

Mobius’s eyes travel to where his finger is stretching Loki and he moans. “Ain’t that a pretty sight.”

Loki whines. 

“Can I add another?”

Loki nods in confirmation, his breath shallow. 

“Need words, baby.”

Loki’s breath stutters. “Yes,” he pleads. 

Mobius slicks up another finger thoroughly, then enters both in Loki’s hole. Mobius fucks his fingers into Loki’s hole until it stretches him nicely, and Loki grips the edge of the cushion when Mobius’s fingers skim his prostate. “Oh!”

Mobius groans in response, eyes turning dark. “So beautiful.”

When Loki confirms he’s ready for a third, Mobius slicks up three of his fingers, then enters Loki’s hole. Loki moans as Mobius’s fingers fuck him slowly, assiduously. And each time they go perfectly deep, Mobius makes sure to skim Loki’s sweet spot. Loki whines, fucking himself back on his agent’s fingers. 

“Please! P-Please, fuck me, Mobius, please.”

Mobius kisses his lips hungrily, swiftly, before pulling away. “Whatever you want, Loki,” he says as he pulls his fingers out. 

Loki’s eyes widen when he sees Mobius’s disheveled appearance. 

And oh, is it something glorious. 

His hair is stuck up in multiple areas, sweat graces his chest, sparkling in the soft light, and there’s a crazed look in his eyes that makes Loki feel positively ravished. 

Mobius rips the packet with his teeth, then swiftly slips the condom on his cock. His eyes flutter once he applies lube to his already slick cock. 

Once he’s ready, he looks Loki in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

“God, Mobius.” Loki wraps his arms around the older man’s neck, pulling him down in a seething kiss. Once he breaks it, he whispers, “Fuck me,” into Mobius’s lips. 

Mobius lets out a low sound that sends delightful tingles across Loki’s body. Mobius grabs Loki’s thighs and lines up his cock with his hole. He enters slowly, pushing himself in with care.

Loki moans breathlessly, gripping Mobius’s hair. 

“That good?” Mobius asks as he presses a kiss to Loki’s cheek. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Loki nods wordlessly, his lips agape at the sensation. 

Once Loki taps Mobius’s arm to silently reassure him that he’s ready for more, Mobius pushes in more, and soon, he’s fully seated inside Loki. 

Loki whines loudly, holding Mobius’s neck for dear life. 

Mobius places kisses all over Loki’s neck, then his face, soothing him with his lips. “You’re doing so well, Loki. So well. That’s so good, baby, fuck, you’re tight. So fuckin’ tight for me.”

Loki moans, looking up at Mobius pleadingly. “Move, please, move.”

Mobius nods and begins pulling out with his hips, then pushing back in. He acquires a careful rhythm, moving slowly but with impactful thrusts. Mobius moans as Loki clenches around him, and Loki can tell he’s holding back by the way he’s gripping his thigh tight, restraining himself. 

Loki’s lips go to Mobius’s ear, kissing it. “Mobius… you can fuck me.” Loki rolls his hips and Mobius grips his thigh tighter. Loki moans, biting his lip. “Fuck me.”

And that does it for Mobius. 

Mobius picks up his pace, thrusting faster. And faster. And oh.

Loki moans as Mobius fucks him hard, as if the older man’s self-control went out the window. 

And it’s glorious. 

With each thrust, Loki hears himself make an, “uh- uh- uh” sound and he would be mortified by how much he’s enjoying this, but he can’t bring himself to care as Mobius fucks him so deep. 

“So good,” Mobius groans, lips devouring the pale skin of Loki’s neck. “Fuck, you’re so wet, Loki. Clinging to me so tight, god. That’s it, sweetheart. Make those pretty noises for me. Yeah, that’s it. God, you’re gorgeous.”

Loki’s getting so close, so close. The praise that leaves Mobius’s lips are making him keen, making him turn into something animalistic. 

With each thrust, Mobius is hitting his sweet spot, abusing the muscle in the best way. Loki whines, his voice getting higher and oh god, he’s gonna come. 

“M-Mobius! I- I’m gonna, oh, I’m gonna come, Mobius,” Loki warns, his body bouncing with every hard thrust. 

Mobius groans, fucking him impossibly harder. “Come for me,” he demands, biting his neck hard. 

Loki’s orgasm is silent. His lips are apart, and when he comes, his throat is incapable of making any sound. All he can think is, so good, so good, so good. 

Mobius moans as his thrusts become uneven. “Fuck, Loki, I’m gonna-”

“Yes, yes.”

Mobius comes with him, moaning deeply into Loki’s neck. 

Loki barely registers Mobius’s thrusts getting slower. Loki’s hand runs through Mobius’s gray hair, soothing his scalp as the aftershocks course through him calmly. 

Mobius grunts as he pulls out. His breath is heavy and with Loki’s blurry vision, he can make out a bead of sweat on his temple. “Let me get something to clean you up,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Loki’s cheek. 

Loki doesn’t know how long Mobius is gone, but it only feels like a few seconds because Mobius is back, cleaning up the semen on Loki’s stomach. Loki blanks out for a few moments, and to his faint surprise, notices Mobius is curling up next to him, pulling him close. Loki rests his head on Mobius’s chest and… it’s wonderful. So wonderful. Brad would have left him by now. Any of his former lovers would.

Mobius is staying. 

Mobius presses a kiss to his head, rubbing his back soothingly. 

Loki falls asleep knowing he’s safe in Mobius’s arms. 

Chapter Text

Loki’s eyes flutter awake when he feels a weight shift under him. His hand moves up the sturdy chest that he lies on and his nose nuzzles into the crook of a neck, inhaling the scent of something light and crisp, like the remnants of comforting firewood smoke. 

Mobius. 

Loki can’t stop the pleased smile that forms on his lips. He’s still in a fuzzy mindset, his brain resembling fluffy clouds, his body feeling wonderfully loose. 

None of his one-night stands ever stay with Loki, always leaving the first chance they get, slipping discreetly out the door without acknowledgment. Loki is guilty of such behavior too. 

But this is entirely different. Loki has never felt so vulnerable, so… satisfied. No one has ever been as attentive as Mobius. 

Loki feels his cheeks heat at the memory of Mobius asking for permission not once, but several times. His deep blue eyes searched every part of Loki, flickering over his face in question. Mobius’s firm hands moving over his thighs, his stomach, treating Loki like something he should worship. His lips were fiery hot, kissing Loki’s neck at a bruising pace until Loki keened in the overwhelming manner of the situation. 

God, he loved every second of it. 

Loki has never felt so cared for, and the thought sounds ridiculous in his head. He doesn’t deserve such treatment; Loki himself is not the best person on this earth. He’s a spoiled celebrity who has been in every scandalous article known to man. 

But when he’s in the moment, Mobius granting his desperation for affection, Loki feels as if they are the only ones on earth. Last night, Loki wonders if they were the only ones on earth. 

“Hey…” Mobius whispers against his hair. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Loki closes his eyes, taking in Mobius’s voice. It’s gruffer than normal, soft and soothing, reminding Loki of the fresh honey he enjoys using in his afternoon tea. 

Loki tilts his head up, landing his eyes on Mobius. His breath stutters. 

Mobius’s grey hair is sticking up in various places, making him look beautifully disheveled. His jaw has slight stubble, adding to the facial hair with his mustache, and Loki wonders if kissing him will feel different this morning than it did last night. His lips look freshly plump, like a blossom blooming in the beginning of Spring. 

“No,” Loki manages. “Not at all.”

Mobius nods. He’s silent for a while, and Loki can see he wants to say something important, but before he can even attempt to speak, Loki kisses him. 

It does feel different. 

The stubble brushes against Loki’s chin and his lips have a new kind of softness, so delicate and warm. 

Mobius groans, placing a hesitant hand on Loki’s back. Sensing Mobius’s newfound tenseness, Loki pulls back, looking at him questioningly. 

Loki’s heart drops when he sees guilt in the agent’s eyes. His expression is still filled with undeniable longing, his eyes ocean-deep. But Loki also sees the professionalism peaking through, threatening to come forth. 

“Is there something the matter?” Loki asks, hoping Mobius will shrug off his question and return to covering him with kisses. 

Loki has come to enjoy Mobius’s kisses. 

But to Loki’s great disappointment, Mobius releases a long sigh. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Loki, you know we can’t do this,” Mobius whispers, sorrow palpable in his voice. 

Loki stares at him, his eyes suddenly heavy with agony. Loki scoots closer to him, hoping his physical presence can shape Mobius’s next words, that maybe he can look past this ridiculous professional relationship that they’re required to have. Deep down, Loki knew Mobius was going to bring this up. But through all the haze of pleasure and lust, Loki pushed that thought to the back of his brain, ignoring the inevitable.

“We can try,” Loki whispers back, his thumb tracing the hairs on Mobius’s chest. “No one has to know.”

Mobius sighs, seeming to have a strenuous internal conflict. His thumb rubs the curve of Loki’s hip where his hand is placed. Loki hurts for him. 

“I’m sorry, Loki. We just can’t,” Mobius says, eyes desperate for Loki to understand. 

“Please?” And Loki is ashamed he’s resorted to begging. 

He can hear Mobius sigh again, tilting his head back. “Loki–”

“Please,” Loki says again, now beginning to press his lips to Mobius’s jaw, another part of his brain reveling in the rough edge it’s developed. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. We–we can keep this a secret–”

“That’s dangerous,” Mobius counters, his hand gripping Loki’s hip tighter in attempts to control himself. “At any moment, this could ruin your reputation. My job is to–”

“Sod your job,” argues Loki, trying to persuade Mobius with more wet kisses that he presses along his skin. “You can still keep your job while being with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Mobius says, shifting under Loki as Loki licks a trail up his neck. “Loki, that’s–”

“Mobius, please,” Loki implores, snapping his head up to look at Mobius, cupping his face in desperation. “Stop worrying about your job for one moment. Think about us–”

“I’m thinking about you,” Mobius snaps, sitting up and taking Loki with him in his lap. Loki blinks. He’s never heard Mobius use that tone of voice before, firm and demanding with no option for argument. “I’m thinking about your career. I’m thinking about your future.”

Loki huffs, annoyance beginning to settle in his chest. “Yes, because you’re the only one who can determine all those things.”

Mobius’s expression turns stern. “Listen to me, Loki. If the wrong person sees us doin’ something unprofessional, you’re done for. I don’t want you to go through more suffering than you already have, especially with the press.”

“Then we’ll be careful,” Loki reasons. 

“We can’t take that risk,” Mobius says. “You have… so much goin’ for you, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let this ruin your career.”

“Don’t I get a say in this ?” Loki asks, aghast. “Mobius, you are being entirely unfair. You’re making decisions for my career.” Loki glares, his warm touches gone as he pulls his hands back. “Just like everyone else.”

“Loki–”

Loki detangles himself from Mobius, beginning to put his clothes on. His demeanor is cold now, distant. “I thought you were different,” Loki murmurs, shrugging his shirt on. 

Mobius rushes to get his clothes on as well, managing to do so in impressive swiftness. “Hey.” Loki tries to step past him, but Mobius grabs his arm, somehow gently, pulling him close. “Look at me. You need to understand that I’m doing this for you. Okay? Because I’m sorry, Loki, but you don’t know the risks this could entail, the backlash you could get for this.”

“Stop treating me like I’m some ignorant child!” Loki snaps. “I’m fully aware of the results of keeping a relationship like–like this, but–but have you ever thought to consider that I don’t care about the public eye?” 

“You should,” says Mobius. “I don’t want you to go through any more pain than you have to, Loki.”

“God, just–” Loki rips his arm from Mobius’s grip. “Get out.”

Pain strikes through Mobius’s eyes. There’s a moment of pregnant silence, and Loki expects Mobius to argue further, to stand his ground. But Mobius nods, taking a step back. Loki instantly regrets using such a harsh tone, is tempted to plead for Mobius’s forgiveness and beg him to come back into his arms. 

“If that’s what you want, I will,” Mobius says. “Just let me say that… this is my fault.” Mobius’s jaw juts, and he looks down. “I wasn’t able to resist you. But–” He huffs a melancholy laugh. “I don’t believe anyone could. So, forgive me. Please.”

Before Loki can respond, Mobius slips out of the room without another word. 

Loki wonders if the shut of the door downstairs is Mobius leaving or the sound of his heart breaking. Loki’s legs begin to give out and he slumps on the sofa, staring at the distant wall. 

Loki should have denied all of those outlandish claims Mobius said, about how this was his fault, when that’s far from the truth. Loki came on to him. He begged for Mobius’s affection, he practically threw himself on his agent, for god’s sake. 

Loki is surprised that his cheeks are suddenly wet with tears. He instinctively wipes them stubbornly, but after a few attempts of doing so, he gives up. He lets himself cry like a stupid schoolgirl being rejected by a crush. 

Maybe that’s not far from the situation. 

Loki inhales a trembling breath, letting his tears fall as he thinks of Mobius. 

Loki can hear the cheers of the crowd from his dressing room. It’s like a ringing in his ear that won’t cease. And for the first time, it’s not a satisfying sound, but more an overwhelming one. 

For the past few days, Loki hasn’t bothered showing up to rehearsals. He’s been unable to leave his empty villa, drowning himself in self-pity. He’s been putting himself in isolation, ignoring all texts from Sylvie and Casey asking him where he is. Sylvie already gave him a talking-to when he arrived at the festival grounds. And selfishly, Loki’s eyes wandered the large grounds, searching for Mobius. 

No sight of him. 

Loki ignored the lump in his throat. 

Now he’s simply waiting in the dull dressing room for his time to perform. He will force a smile and sing until his lungs give out to make the pain unfeeling, even if it seems impossible. 

He told Bee to dress him in something simple, a plain t-shirt and dark jeans. Loki feels exhausted beyond belief, even if he hasn’t worked endlessly on his songs this week. He feels ashamed for being so tired simply because he has been sleeping in one of the many bedrooms of the villa, his mind constantly filled with Mobius. 

It’s odd. No one has ever affected him like Mobius has. Mobius… kind, thoughtful, wonderful Mobius, has probably resigned from his job. The music industry is large, like a whole other world. Most likely, Loki will never see him again. Which is fine, of course. 

Well, it’s not fine for Loki. But Mobius will move on with his life, find someone else to fulfill him that’s not a risk to both their careers. 

Loki wills himself not to cry again, afraid to ruin the light makeup Bee applied to his face. 

The Miami festival grounds are not as large as the New Orleans's festival grounds, but the stadiums are spacious, allowing hundreds of fans to take their positions. 

Loki takes a deep breath to calm himself. Out of all the musicians that have attended, Loki suspects he will be the most disappointing. He doesn’t know if he can bring himself to use his voice properly, and Loki is angry at himself for giving up so easily. 

Just then, a light knock sounds at the door. Without asking to enter, Bee appears, sending him a soft smile. “Hey, rock star. You almost ready?”

Loki nods, pretending to stare at his nails as if they are worth close inspection. “Yes.”

Bee comes forward, checking Loki’s face carefully. “You sure you don’t want eyeliner? Fans are lovin’ that look, y’know. And I think it really fits you.”

Loki shakes his head, still not making eye contact. “Simplicity isn’t always a negative addition,” he says in a quiet voice. 

Bee sighs through her nose. “Okay.” She leans against the dresser, folding her arms. “Spill.”

Loki looks up at her in question. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Bee laughs, tilting her head. “I’ll believe that when you aren’t moping in your dressing room before a performance. I’ve heard you haven’t shown up to rehearsals and, frankly, you haven’t been seen anywhere these last few days. Spill. It.”

Loki groans, leaning back in his chair in annoyance. “Bee-”

“Loki.”

Her threatening tone makes Loki slump in defeat. “It’s nothing of importance.”

“Yeah. Seems like it,” she replies sarcastically. Her expression softens. “What’s wrong?”

Loki grits his teeth, looking down at his lap. He promised himself he wouldn’t think about Mobius anymore tonight, but now as he looks back at the promise, he realizes it’s impossible. “It’s Mobius,” he whispers. 

Bee leans forward. “Mobius?”

“Yes, we–”

Before Loki can finish his sentence, a boisterous knock sounds at the door. Loki turns swiftly in his chair, exasperated.

 His internal questions are answered when he hears a loud, thunderous voice through the door. “Brother! I know you’re in there!”

Loki’s eyes stretch wide. He stands and quickly makes his way over to the door, opening it. 

His eyes land on Thor, who has a big smile on his lips. He’s just the same as he always is, with gleaming gold hair and his jean jacket that he’s been holding dearly since the day their father purchased it for him on one of his business trips.

Loki’s about to say something, but before he can, his feet are lifted off the ground and he’s being embraced in a suffocating hug. Loki is slapping Thor’s muscular shoulders, trying to communicate his lack of breathing. Thor, however, has never been one to care. 

“Oh, look how much you’ve grown! Never taller than me, though,” Thor rambles, spinning Loki in his grip. “And a festival! Loki, you’re making it big! When I saw you on the television, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I knew I had to come see you!”

With one last final punch to his shoulder, Thor finally lets him go. Loki has never been more grateful for air in his life. He takes several heavy breaths before Thor chuckles in apology.

“Forgive me, brother. Sometimes I forget my own strength,” Thor says, giving Loki a few hard slaps on his back, which makes the situation worse. 

Loki gets a glimpse of Bee excusing herself from the room, and sneers when he sees her hiding her laughter. 

Once Loki regains his composure, he is able to stand to his full height again, properly breathing. 

“Thor, you…” Loki stares at his brother in bewilderment. “How did you–”

Loki is interrupted by the sight of his father standing in the doorway, looking between them impassively. His stance is intimidating as always. His inquisitive eyes search the dressing room, most likely internally judging the small space. His hair has gotten shorter, to Loki’s surprise, and he wears a prestigious button-up that Loki is sure to cost a fortune. Loki’s breath stutters. 

“Father, you’re here,” he says disbelievingly. 

“I convinced him to come!” Thor explains excitedly. “We wanted to see you before you perform.”

Loki doesn’t take his eyes off his father. He tries for a smile. “Yes, well… I’m glad you two could make it.”

“We probably won’t be able to stay for long,” Odin replies dismissively, checking his golden watch. “Thor and I have a meeting with a new partnership we’re pursuing.”

Loki’s smile fades. Of course. His father came at Thor’s request, not voluntarily. 

“Right,” Loki murmurs. 

“We will be backstage, brother!” Thor informs him with another strong grip on his shoulder. Before Loki knows it, they’re out of the room. 

Loki’s heart sinks. It’s such a childish want to have his father’s approval, a sign from him indicating he’s proud of Loki. But every time Loki presents his talent to his father, he dismisses it, always coming up with an excuse to ignore Loki’s efforts.

Loki forces himself to head backstage, where technicians are focusing on sound checks for the current band that is playing. Loki wraps his guitar strap around his shoulder, and the comforting weight of the instrument is grounding, as if it’s a breath of fresh air. 

As Loki is making his way to his position, he almost bumps into the little man Mobius calls a friend. 

O.B. looks up in surprise, then an excited smile forms on his lips. “Loki! Break a leg, okay? You’re gonna do great!”

Loki is struck by the man’s utmost confidence in him. Loki almost wants to tell him no, no he’s not going to do great because he has the pressure of his father watching his every movement and the memories of that night with Mobius, which is still slicing him with every thought. 

Instead, Loki nods, swallowing nervously. “Thank you, O.B.”

O.B., seeming not to notice Loki’s uncomfortable stature, nods back with a smile and returns to his technical responsibilities. 

Loki stands at the far corner of the stage, just where the curtain covers him, watching the band finish up their last song. The moon is bright and Loki can hear the sea shore make waves from a distance, even through the screeches of the crowd. 

The announcer thanks the band, adjusting the microphone in his palm. Loki takes a deep breath as the announcer makes Loki’s introduction. 

Hearing the crowd go wild at the mention of his name makes Loki unable to hold his smile. Until now, he thought his fans would be overwhelming, too exuberant for his current state. But as he hears them cheering for him, he can’t help but feel… thankful. It’s disgustingly sentimental, but Loki can’t help the fond ache in his chest. 

Loki steps out on stage with ease, making sure his guitar is tuned up right as his fans continue to scream at the top of their lungs. 

Sylvie and Casey prepare their instruments behind him, and Loki spares them a look. Casey gives him an encouraging smile as Sylvie shows impassiveness. Well, to most it may be impassiveness. Loki can tell there’s a glint of comfort in her eyes, one that speaks to him deeply. 

Loki’s about to begin with his first song, the most popular in his newly released album. It’s not his personal favorite that he’s done, but it’s one he knows fans adore. Loki plays one string of his guitar before the announcer unexpectedly comes back on stage, waving his arms. 

“So sorry, everyone!” the announcer says with an apologetic smile, coming to the microphone in front of Loki. “But if I could have your attention at the moment, that would be marvelous.”

Loki is affronted by the announcer’s interruption. He’s finally got into the correct mindset to perform, but now it feels shattered and unfixable. 

Loki’s eyes widen when he sees his father and brother arrive on stage, their hands up in a humble wave. 

No. 

“We’ve just received note that Odin and Thor are here with us!” the announcer says enthusiastically, and the crowd is already beginning to cheer louder than Loki’s ever heard. 

The announcer turns to Loki, nudging his shoulder. “This, it seems like, is Loki Laufeyson’s surprise for us. Isn’t that right?”

Something in the announcer’s eyes is pleading, as if to say, “Please confirm their presence is planned so we can get positive feedback.”

Loki should have suspected this. He should have known administrators would have seen iconic musicians such as his father and brother and squeeze them into the performance, pushing Loki aside to give the fans what they really want. 

Then and there, Loki realizes that he’s not famous because of his “musical talents”. He’s famous because of his so-called family legacy. He’s famous because people know he’s associated with Odin and Thor, the classic rock musicians who were loved by all before Loki became anything of importance. 

Loki realizes he hasn’t talked for several seconds. He clears his throat, then nods in hesitance. “Uh… yes, I–”

“Wonderful!” says the announcer, and the crowd erupts into a wave of elation. “Let’s hear it for Odin and Thor! And uh–Loki!”

The announcer slips out of sight backstage. Thor puts a hand on Loki’s shoulder, whispering, “I’m glad we can finally perform together, brother. What an honor this is.”

Looking into Thor’s eyes, Loki can see his brother means well. But that very thing is what makes Loki so upset. Thor means well and isn’t aware of the destructive effect this has on Loki, watching his father and brother face the world as he is left in the dark, unwanted. 

Odin doesn’t pay him any acknowledgment as he easily gets behind the mic. He nods to Thor, and Loki can see the glint of familiarity behind his father’s eyes. He’s done this numerous times, but not in a while. Loki can tell he’s missed the fame. 

“Get me a chair, son,” Odin tells Thor, and Thor obeys with a smile. 

They fall into easy preparation, Odin and Thor sitting in chairs behind two mics that are provided, because that’s how they always perform. Two polished guitars are handed to both of them by rushing technicians. The crowd falls into a mumbling silence, anticipating their show of well-known songs. 

Loki’s unsure what to do as he stands there awkwardly. Odin looks behind him, eyeing Loki up and down. 

“Uh–you know this one, Loki. Thor and I will play the main harmony and you can fill in the blanks, hm?”

Without another word, Odin plays the first cord of the song, and the stadium instantly erupts into a fantastical cheer, the familiar harmony taking place. To most, this is an iconic performance that will be told down for years. To Loki, this is utter torture. 

Odin and Thor begin playing their song with practiced ease, the guitars filling in all the necessary pieces that would usually be placed with drums or a piano. Loki plays what he can with his own guitar, but it’s different from theirs, creating more of a heavy, vibrant sound that doesn’t fit the narrative of the song. Odin and Thor begin singing the lyrics in their low voices, their tones blending in perfectly. 

The crowd sings along. 

Loki wonders if he can run off stage and no one will notice, but he would only make a fool of himself. 

Time seems to slip by as Loki practically spaces out, only playing small chords that won’t disrupt the smooth tone of the song. Loki steps forward, ready to take back his position behind the microphone to finish his show, but his father smoothly transitions to another familiar song, which the crowd cheers to. 

Loki realizes then that his performance has been stolen by the pair he was supposed to take after. 

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Watching everything unfold in a dark corner just beyond the curtains makes Mobius’s blood boil with unexpected rage. Not only at himself but at Loki’s ignorant, so-called family, for that matter. 

Mobius wishes he didn’t leave Loki’s side after their disagreement back at the villa. He never should have agreed to leave the premises knowing Loki was in such distress, especially after denying his attempts at a… relationship? Arrangement? But seeing Loki’s pleading expression, he felt he had no choice. 

Mobius turned worried when Sylvie told him Loki hadn’t been attending any rehearsals or responding to any calls. Mobius blames it all on himself. He should have thought all of this through before letting his composure slip when Loki kissed him. 

But when Mobius trailed his hands over Loki’s defined body, lips on lips, he couldn’t help but eagerly participate in Loki’s actions. 

Everything about that night was perfect. Hearing Loki’s unexpected small noises, and seeing him in such a vulnerable state; Mobius felt like it was a true honor to witness such beauty. He wanted to experience it again and again, feel the tightness of Loki, and consume him in ways Mobius never thought he could consume someone. 

Mobius was surprised when he didn’t feel any sense of wrongness during their intimacy. All he could process was how good it felt having Loki beneath him, saying his name over and over. It almost felt like a dream Mobius didn’t wish to awake from, one he would try to continue by forcing himself to sleep. Of course Mobius’s mind was racing through the possibilities of the outcome while Loki was coming toward him with obvious purpose in his eyes. However, when Loki whispered pleads in his ear, it was done for. Mobius couldn’t stretch away from his desires, not anymore. 

He hated having to break the truth to Loki that morning. Mobius wishes he hadn’t even brought up the reality of the situation. Regret is strong in his chest, the feeling hasn’t stopped washing over him for the past few long, miserable days he’s been away from Loki. 

So now as Mobius watches Odin take over the stage with Thor at his side, he can’t help but feel that regret more than ever. He could have prevented the sorrow that glistens in Loki’s eyes now as he plays the background melody on his guitar. 

Mobius rubs a hand over his face, attempting to hide the sneer that’s quickly developing across his lips. It’s probably not worth his anger that he always tries to press down in stressful situations such as this, but seeing Loki being left in the dark is something Mobius never wants to see. 

“This is some good stuff,” the announcer comments, and Mobius hadn’t even realized he propped up beside him. He nudges Mobius’s arm. It takes all of his willpower not to glare at the man. “You should be happy. This is gonna get some good views for Loki Laufeyson. Aren’t you his agent?”

It takes a long moment for Mobius to respond. “Yes.”

“Trust me, if anyone is gonna get Loki Laufeyson to the top, it’s this classic duo.”

“Mm.”

“You should try to establish more concerts with the three of them,” the announcer suggests. “If Loki can get some more appearances with Odin and Thor, hey, you’ll be in for a treat. You see how the fans are reacting now? Imagine how they’d react if these three were confirmed to be working together regularly. You could get him on so many talk shows with those types of celebrities by his side. Maybe even sign him up for the camera, like appearances in movies and stuff. Heard that makes good money. Have you ever thought of–”

“Thank you,” Mobius interrupts, “but my client is just fine on his own.”

The announcer quirks a brow. “I’ve been in the music industry for a while. I know how this stuff works. Loki isn’t gonna get farther than festivals going solo.”

Mobius clenches his jaw, nodding. “This industry has been my gig for a while too. And when I say that Loki Laufeyson has an unmatchable talent, I know what I’m talkin’ about. Thank you for the advice, but Loki doesn’t need additional view-catchers to be successful. He does that himself.”

Ignoring the man’s stunned silence, Mobius slips further backstage and to the dressing rooms. He hears Odin and Thor thanking the crowd as the performance comes to an end. 

He needs to talk to Loki. Mobius is tired of people underestimating him, and Mobius thinks, heartbroken by the memory, that he probably underestimated him too. 

From the beginning, he saw Loki as a spoiled star who knew nothing in the industry other than receiving fame. 

However, as Mobius has come to learn, Loki is so much more than that. He’s remarkable, to say the least. He’s knowledgeable in his musical abilities and he has actual talent. 

Loki can decide the future of his career. Mobius assured him from the beginning that he could, that he has full control of what’s to happen next. 

At the end of the hall, Mobius sees Loki come into view. Before he can walk further, Thor stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Mobius can faintly hear their conversation. 

“You did well tonight, brother!” Thor says in a booming voice. “It was… nice. Playing with you.”

Loki nods, though his eyes show something deeper than a simple agreement to Thor’s statement. 

“It reminded me when we used to play with mother,” Thor says.

Loki freezes, his body language turning strained. 

“When she used to sing…” Thor reminisces. “She always loved when you played.”

Loki doesn’t reply. 

Soon, Odin comes through the shadows, nodding to Thor. “Son. We must get going.”

“Oh–yes.” Thor pats Loki’s shoulder, which Loki visibly winces at. “Please… come visit us in London soon. Maybe during the holidays?”

The hands behind Loki’s back clench. “Maybe. I will see if I wish to spend the holidays watching you stuff your face with the pastries you always like to bake after Christmas dinner.”

A smile that lights up the dark atmosphere of the hallways forms on Thor’s face. “There’s the Loki I know. Don’t be a stranger, brother. Please.”

And with that, Odin and Thor disappear out one of the exit doors. Loki lets out a long sigh, turning back down the hallway to make his way to the dressing room. 

His eyes land on Mobius. He stops in his tracks, and Mobius suddenly feels bad for being here so unexpectedly. 

“You… what are you doing here?” Loki asks, his voice a whisper. 

Mobius shrugs, offering a small smile. “What, you didn’t think I’d miss a performance, did you?”

Loki stands there, eyes fixed on Mobius. Then, he just shakes his head in denial, tears straining his eyes.

 Mobius steps forward, worry settling through him. “Loki–”

“No, just–” Loki opens the door to his dressing room and goes in, Mobius in tow. Mobius shuts the door behind him, knowing Loki will prefer the privacy. 

“Loki,” Mobius tries again, coming close to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“God–just… everything!” Loki attempts to wipe the trailing tears from his cheeks, but it’s no use. “I’ve messed up everything.”

Mobius furrows his brows at the startling statement. “What?” he asks. “Loki, what are you–”

“I… I came onto you, begging like a stray dog and pleading that you’d have me that night,” Loki explains through shaky breaths. “And that’s ruined everything and I know you don’t wish to have that type of relationship with me and–and with a result of that, I understand if you want to resign as my agent since I’ve fucked everything up and–”

“Shh, shh,” Mobius soothes, cupping Loki’s face. “Loki… look at me. Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

With great hesitance, Loki’s eyes land on Mobius, his irises swimming with so many overwhelming emotions, Mobius wants to take all his pain away. “I don’t want you talking about yourself like that,” Mobius says, voice suddenly serious. “You did not mess up anything. Okay? You did nothing wrong.”

“But I did,” Loki counters. “I did. I–I went past the line of professionalism–”

“And so did I,” says Mobius. “Don’t think you’re the only one that initiated anything that night, Loki. Fuck, I…” Mobius huffs a strained laugh. “I couldn’t keep my hands off you, believe me. In truth, that night was gonna happen no matter what.”

Loki sniffs, eyes averting from Mobius. “It’s just all a mess.”

Mobius releases a long breath through his nose. “C’mere.” He leads Loki to the end of the room, leaning him against the dressing table. His hands come to Loki’s hips, and Loki looks up at him, eyes questioning. 

And as Mobius stares at him, it’s no wonder he can’t resist the person Loki Laufeyson is. 

“I’m sorry for determining your wants,” Mobius whispers, thumbs soothing Loki’s waist. “I did what I thought was best for you, but… but now I see that it was a stupid decision.” 

Loki’s expression turns hopeful. “You regret it?”

“Yeah,” Mobius confirms. “I regret it so much.” He sighs. “Loki, god help me, I want you. I want you so bad. Longing for you day after day, workin’ with you every hour, it’s been torture. Not being able to touch you…” Mobius leans down, his lips grazing the pale skin of Loki’s neck. “Kiss you.”

Loki releases a shaky sigh, a hand coming to grip Mobius’s shoulder. 

“You have to know I wanna pursue… this,” Mobius murmurs as he presses a delicate kiss to Loki’s neck. Loki tenses wonderfully under him, his hips moving slightly to match with Mobius. “You have to. How could I not want to?” Mobius continues kissing his neck, groaning at every taste. “I swear, you must’ve been a god or something in another life, Loki. You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Loki whimpers at his words. “Mobius…”

Mobius pulls back, eyes settling on Loki. “Is this something you really wanna pursue? You’ve gotta let me know.”

Loki’s eyes search him for a few moments of contemplation, then he nods eagerly. “Mobius… I’ve wanted you since the beginning. Please… have me.”

Mobius’s lips quirk up in a hesitant grin. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Loki licks his lips, his hands moving down to Mobius’s chest. “God, yes.”

Mobius holds back a tempting groan. “You know we’ll have to be very careful, right?”

Loki huffs. “Mobius–”

“I know,” he interrupts. “But before we do anything, I need to make sure you understand. This has to be in complete secrecy, I don’t want the press finding out and then you receive a whole bunch of bullshit backlash. That’s the last thing I want. While I know your career is important to you, it’s also important to me.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know. If I don’t receive positive reactions from fans, paychecks will look less promising.”

Mobius blinks, speechless by Loki’s assumption. “What? No, Loki…” Mobius takes his hand, holding it tightly. “Your career is important to me because you are important to me. I know how much music means to you and I’d hate for you to lose it because of me.”

Loki’s eyes turn sincere, almost… touched. “You could never ruin anything for me,” Loki says, voice quiet. “We will be fine. I promise.”

Mobius is comforted by Loki’s reassurance. He presses his forehead against the rock star’s, then leans in for a kiss. Their lips touch softly at first, but feeling Loki’s lips for the first time in days, a roaring fire makes its way up to Mobius’s chest. Mobius suspects Loki feels it too, judging by the way his hands tighten against his shirt. 

Mobius doesn’t hold back his groan this time, licking his way into Loki’s mouth with eagerness. Loki responds in kind, moaning as his tongue flicks across Mobius’s, their lips moving in a passionate symphony. 

After a few moments, Mobius pulls away, hearing the heaviness of both their breaths. “That okay?”

Loki nods, pressing a chaste kiss to Mobius’s chin. “Mhm… yes.”

Mobius moves on to Loki’s jaw, licking the sharpness there, then mouthing it, allowing the hunger in his chest to be on display. Mobius shivers at the delicious noise that comes out of Loki’s mouth, his fingers carding through Mobius’s hair. 

“Fuck,” Loki says breathlessly, pushing his hips against Mobius. 

Mobius hisses, pulling back. Loki’s eyes are dark, filled with a hazy layer that Mobius has never seen before. 

“We should…” Mobius licks his lips. “We should probably stop here. Maybe wait ‘til we head somewhere more pri–”

“Please, Mobius,” Loki whispers against his lips, tugging on his suit jacket. “We–We can be quick.”

And Mobius is so conflicted. There’s a risk of someone walking in, seeing him and Loki in such an intimate position. There’s also the fact that he selfishly wants to keep this side of Loki all to himself. But at the same time… Mobius has been wanting for days, dreaming of when he’ll be able to touch the rock star again, hear his moans that are played into his ear. 

Making a decision, Mobius breathes precariously through his nose. “Quick,” Mobius says.

“Quick,” Loki promises, eyes filled with gratitude. 

Mobius engulfs Loki’s lips with a seething kiss, running his hand through the raven locks that are so smooth and wonderfully soft. Mobius nips on Loki’s bottom lip, and the rock star moans in desire, fisting his hands into Mobius’s now wrinkled blazer. Loki attempts to take the clothing material off, but Mobius breaks the kiss, shaking his head. 

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what we’re gonna be doing right now,” Mobius says, nudging his nose against Loki’s.

Loki makes a pitiful noise that Mobius wants to devour. 

God, what has Loki turned him in to?

“Why not?” Loki asks, sorrow evident in his voice. 

Mobius chuckles lowly, undoing the only button on Loki’s pants. Loki gasps, his hand gripping to the side of Mobius’s neck. 

“Quick… remember?” Mobius says, keeping his eyes fixed on Loki’s as he presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

Loki sighs sensually as Mobius palms his member through his boxers. “ Fuck.”

“Yeah, babe. Right where you need it, hm?”

Loki makes a desperate noise, pushing his hips up. “Please!”

“Shh, shh, shh.” Mobius presses chaste kisses to his lips. “Gotta be quiet for me, Loki. Can you do that?”

Loki’s cheeks flush at the request. “Y-Yes. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Mobius assures, looking down to see a wet spot forming where he’s palming Loki. He lets out a strained breath. “What a sight you make, sweetheart.”

Loki moans needily, his hands moving to fist in the material of Mobius’s blazer. 

Knowing they need to get this show on the road, Mobius carefully pulls out Loki’s member, rubbing his thumb across the slit where pre-come leaks. Loki jolts, releasing a whimper through his clenched teeth. He hisses when Mobius’s thumb presses into the slit. 

“Oh… fuck,” Loki moans, eyes heavy with pleasure. 

Mobius begins stroking his cock, his grip tight. His strokes are slow, but he makes sure to make his fingers clench well around his member to enhance the sensation. Loki whimpers, pressing his face into Mobius’s neck so as not to be too loud. 

Mobius kisses along Loki’s jaw, then up to his cheekbone. “So good, Loki. So good for me,” he whispers, his voice gruff. 

“Ah, oh… fuck, Mobius. It–It’s so good.”

“Yeah?” Mobius hums, nibbling along Loki’s cheek. His strokes are still slow, his hand gripped tight. 

Mobius doesn’t know how someone could abandon such a jewel as Loki Laufeyson. Remembering Odin dismiss Loki on stage, taking over the spotlight to perform his own set of music… Mobius’s gut twists in disgust. Loki has the voice of ten angels combined, he has fingers that can expertly move against the strings of a guitar like the flow of water. Ignoring such talents is a crime within itself. Loki should be appreciated, sought after by all. And while he is, they don’t understand his significance like Mobius does. Mobius sees the purpose that’s under the mask that he puts on in front of the press. Mobius sees the ignition that drives him to glory. 

Mobius sees everything. And he’ll be damned if Loki doesn’t recognize Mobius’s knowledge of his brilliance. 

“Look at you, honey,” Mobius breathes into his ear, stroking faster. “Just look at you. So beautiful for me, always so precious. You’re like the moon itself, I swear. Always shining bright and glorious, lighting the night with your rays.”

Loki’s hand grips tight in Mobius’s hair, his muffled moans pressed into Mobius’s neck. 

“You’re just perfect,” Mobius whispers, licking into his ear. “So fuckin’ perfect. Don’t know how anyone could doubt you, honey. So sweet for me.” 

Loki presses his forehead to Mobius’s, his breath turning heavier with every stroke. “Mobi–”

“Yeah, baby. Just like that. Look at that pretty face, those lips all red and wanting for me. All for me.”

“Ah! Mobius, I–I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”

“Come for me, you beautiful thing,” Mobius whispers into his lips, running his thumb over the head of his cock several times.

Loki moans long and low, coming over Mobius’s hand. His seed spills over Mobius’s fingers, some hitting his shirt. 

Mobius quiets the rest of Loki’s sounds with a kiss, his tongue invading his mouth. 

After Loki has calmed down, Mobius slowly breaks the kiss, allowing Loki to catch his breath. 

With shaky fingers, Loki tries to reach for Mobius’s pants, but Mobius takes his hand, shaking his head. 

“That was all for you, honey,” he whispers, kissing his cheek. 

“O–Oh… thank you,” Loki murmurs.

“Anytime,” Mobius says. 

Watching Loki’s face, Mobius wishes they would have done this somewhere with more security and a proper bed nearby. Loki’s eyelids are heavy and his expression is completely gone, his shoulders slumped. 

“Don’t give out on me yet,” Mobius says, kissing his forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

Loki hums noncommittally, and Mobius smiles fondly. 

Yeah. This was definitely the right decision. 

Chapter Text

Mobius, in fact, did take him home. He took him back to the villa and laid him out in bed, Loki feeling immense relief when his skin hit the cool sheets. He didn’t even change out of his performance wear or discard his makeup. Once he hit the mattress, sleep overtook him. He registered the sounds of Mobius getting ready for bed and soon, joining him, wrapping Loki in his reassuring embrace that brought a night of excellent sleep. 

Mobius didn’t press for anything more. Loki was incredibly grateful for that. 

Now as he’s in the shower, attempting to get clean from yesterday’s events, Loki thinks of last night, the memories swirling in his brain. Of course he’s glad he and Mobius made up. Well, glad doesn’t even begin to touch what he truly feels. He’s relieved, elated, delighted, just so damn happy. He wants more with Mobius, he wants to explore what they’ve established and allow the man to consume him in every way possible. 

Loki may be falling into an abyss of adoration for the agent, and though he’s afraid of what the future may bring, how it may end, he really tries not to think about it. Questions of numerous consequences pop up, and Loki suppresses them as best as he can. 

But god, it’s surreal. Mobius actually wants him. And not just for the popularity. At least, it certainly doesn’t seem like it. Mobius seems to care less about his own reputation and is only ever looking out for Loki. 

And what they did in the dressing room…maybe that was a bit reckless. But Loki wanted him so bad in that moment, with Mobius in the gleaming light of the mirrors and his deep eyes that trail Loki’s form as if he’s thinking of only filthy thoughts. Loki can’t even be worried of who could have walked in because his thoughts are too muddled with the voice of Mobius, his words that washed over Loki, the praise that he repeated. 

Loki bites his lip, turning the water cool so as to not get carried away with his thoughts. 

Once done, he steps out of the shower, rolling his aching shoulders when going to the mirror for his usual morning routine. Well, it’s noon, but Loki doesn’t even blame himself for sleeping in so late. Last night was tiring both physically and mentally. Mostly mentally since he didn’t even do anything on stage, just watched his father and brother perform their classic songs as Loki meddled with his guitar. 

He swallows a lump in his throat at the thought. It was humiliating. This was Loki’s chance to get more recognition and his father had to ruin it, he had to steal the attention of Loki’s fans and point it to himself. 

But Mobius said he did so well, and Mobius said that he deserves the attention. The memory of the agent’s continuous words of affirmation brings Loki to calm himself. Just a little. 

Loki knows why his father always doubted his abilities. Or rather, he never wished to acknowledge them. He sees him as an outsider from the Odinson family. Loki’s mother, Frigga, was the one who managed to convince his father to adopt him. At least that’s what Loki was told. 

How he misses his mother. She encouraged him to take up guitar lessons when he was old enough. She would sing in her angelic voice while Loki would play her favorites. It brought a core memory that sticks with him. 

Loki’s mother laughs in glee after he finishes the tune on his newly bought guitar. “Oh, darling, you’re getting better each time you play.”

Pride wells up in Loki’s chest, and he sits straighter on the luxurious sofa cushion. “Do you really think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she says with a smile. “You’re going to do wonderful at the gathering.”

Doubt replaces Loki’s pride. His eyes go to the roaring fire that’s under the mantelpiece. Frigga tilts her head slightly, trying to catch his gaze. 

“What’s the matter?” she asks in a concerned tone. 

Loki shrugs, his eyes catching his mother’s. “Father will probably not let me play.”

“I’ve convinced him otherwise,” she tells him with a pointed look. “Don’t worry, my love. It will all work out.”

“No it won’t,” Loki insists, anger bubbling inside him. “He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t let me play with him or Brother. He hates me.”

“Loki.” Loki turns to her voice that’s a mixture of sternness and softness. “I don’t want you thinking that way. Your father is…admittedly unfair when it comes to you performing, but that doesn’t mean he dislikes you in any way. He has a reputation to keep and he doesn’t wish for anything to get out of hand.”

Loki knows she’s lying for the sake of his feelings. He knows his father has grown to truly dislike him over the years. His mother knows that too, but she would rather die than admit something so horrible to Loki. 

“He doesn’t trust me playing,” Loki says, putting his guitar to the side as if it will burn him. “He doesn’t think I can do anything.”

“But when he hears you, he’ll see the talent you’ve acquired,” his mother soothes, petting her hand through his hair. “Loki, you’re exceptional and you have marvelous hands to play on those delicate strings. You have a gift. Never doubt that.”

Loki looks up at his mother, then embraces her in a hug, wrapping his arms around her middle. She laughs, returning the embrace and holding him close in her stronger grip. 

“I hope I can play with you forever,” he murmurs into her dress. “You have a gift too, Mother. With your voice.”

He hears his mother gasp softly at his words, touched by them. He feels a kiss pressed to his head. “Never lose the fire of ambition that’s strong in you, Loki,” she whispers. “Never.”

Loki catches himself staring at his reflection, and he shakes his head, continuing to apply lotion on his skin. Thinking of his mother can lead him to the brightest and darkest places in his mind. It’s best not to get lost in the haunting memories for too long. 

After he’s finished changing into fairly comfy clothing since he prefers to attempt at relaxing after performances, he heads downstairs. 

The windows are open and the sun is shining down on the tiled floor. Loki makes his way into the main lounge area and sees a truly ravishing sight on the sofa. 

Mobius has his shirt buttoned down just enough to show a tease of chest hair, his brown pants fitting his legs perfectly. He’s sitting in a leisured position, one leg over the other as he reads over some documents. 

But the thing that’s the cherry on top to this image is the glasses. 

Smart, sophisticated glasses that sit on his nose, tilting slightly to the side. 

Loki needs to calm himself. He needs to get a hold of himself, he–

Mobius’s eyes flicker up to catch Loki, and he grins. “There you are, sweetheart. Finally up and at it.”

No. Loki’s going to melt. He will surely melt into a puddle of goo because are pet names going to be a regular occurrence now? Loki is certainly, definitely not complaining, especially since he gets a tingle that courses through his body whenever he hears something such as sweetheart escaping Mobius’s lips. But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? Loki is enjoying this a little too much, he’s taking pleasure in Mobius’s voice a little too much and he has a feeling he’s becoming a tad to obsessed with the agent, it may become unhealthy. 

Realizing he hasn’t responded, Loki clears his throat, “Yes, the bed was particularly comfy.”

Mobius hums in acknowledgement. Loki wonders if he can ask Mobius to fuck him with the glasses on someday. “I thought so too. You…didn’t mind me sleepin’ with you last night, right? You were so out of it, I didn’t know if you wanted to be left alone or not.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” Loki assures. “I didn’t mind.” His shaky voice confirms that statement. 

Mobius smiles, nodding to the spot next to him. “You gonna stand there awkwardly or do you wanna sit next to me?”

Sit next to you. God, sit next to you. Loki comes forward a little to quickly and sits next to Mobius, their thighs touching. The position is awkward and Mobius sends him an are you serious? look. Grinning at the stupid feeling of awkwardness since he and Mobius have literally had sex only several hours ago, Loki curls up to the agent, putting his head on his shoulder. Oh, yes. That’s much better. 

“You seem off,” Mobius murmurs, pressing a faint kiss to his hair. “You alright?”

Loki stays silent. Is he alright? He’s not sure. What happened with his father and brother last night is still running along in his brain and he just had a vivid flashback of his mother that he really wish he hadn’t thought about. So is he okay? Does he not seem okay?

It also may be that Loki is admittedly worried about what may happen in the future with him and Mobius’s relationship. Will it all come falling apart? Will reporters become too much? It’s one thing to stay inside, in the comfort of the villa and not worry about anything but themselves, but it’s another thing to be exposed to the world with cameras constantly following them, on their backs and never leaving their side. 

“Hey,” Mobius whispers, placing a hand on the back of Loki’s neck and squeezing lightly. “C’mon, Loki. Tell me.”

Loki sighs in a trembling breath. “I think it’s just…a lot of things at once.”

Mobius’s fingers begin to thread through his hair, and oh, that’s nice. “Like?”

Loki shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

“To me, it is,” Mobius says in confidence. 

Loki’s eyes peer up at the brilliant man who has no shame in presenting his care for him. A wave of affection flows through Loki, and it’s palpable. It overtakes his brain and worries. It soothes his constricting thoughts. It’s everything. 

“I suppose it’s what occurred last night,” Loki murmurs. 

Mobius’s eyes turn worried. “Do you regret it?”

Realizing Loki wasn’t clear enough, he shakes his head quickly. “Oh! No. No, not that. Not…not what we did.”

Mobius’s form loses it’s tense qualities that it acquired in less than a second. “That’s good, then.” A pause. “Is it your family?”

Loki doesn’t want to show any signs of confirmation, but he can’t hide his resentment for long. He nods. “Yes.”

Loki is surprised when he sees Mobius’s jaw jut, the tense form of his body coming back in an instant. “Yeah. That wasn’t…” He releases a long breath through his nose. “That wasn’t right.”

Loki can’t help but blink in bewilderment. He’s seen Mobius angry, but this is more disappointment. Sorrow is present in his eyes, touching the corners of his pupils. 

“You shouldn’t have had to…” Mobius cuts himself off, pulling Loki impossibly closer. Loki suddenly feels small. “You shouldn’t have had to stand there and watch them take over the performance you worked so hard for.” He scoffs. “And people didn’t seem bothered by it. That was a whole other problem within itself.”

“It happens,” Loki reasons. “I mean–my father and brother are legends in the industry. It was only inevitable for them to–”

“No,” Mobius interrupts, voice firm. “No, honey. That was not an inevitable occurrence. That was wrong.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “I don’t mean to pry or–or be offensive, but your family should be there to support. Not humiliate.”

Loki thinks he may cry from the comforting words. Because for once in his life, someone understands him, is taking his side. He’s never had that before.

Mobius’s lips touch his temple, and yeah, for some reason, Loki can’t help but allow the vulnerable feeling drape over him. He allows his full weight to rest on Mobius as he watches the agent scribble down various notes on documents. 

“What are these for?” he asks. 

“After interviews and appointments, I’ve gotta fill out some stuff,” Mobius explains. He sighs. “Not always the most… fun activity, but hey, as long as we can get you some good gigs, huh?”

Loki purrs, hand coming to rest on Mobius’s chest. “Always hard at work, aren’t you?” he drawls, kissing his neck. Loki bites his lip when he pulls back, seeing the other man’s skin flush lightly. 

“Not really. Well, I’m lazy, but not as lazy as you,” Mobius rasps. 

Loki nips at his jaw in retaliation. “You’re a fool.”

“You’re a brat.”

“If I’m not mistaken,” Loki breathes, his lips trailing along Mobius’s collarbone, “you like that side of me.”

“Side? Baby, that’s your whole personality.”

Loki huffs. “Well, you’re old. So there’s that.”

“And look at you, still all over this old man,” Mobius quips. 

“Mm, I can’t help myself.” Loki is almost covering him now. “You’re quite irresistible.”

Mobius laughs breathlessly, tugging on Loki’s hair just enough to make the rock star bite back a whimper. “Why don’t I be irresistible to you later, huh? Still got work to do.”

Loki makes a pitiful noise. “You’ve been working all morning. I’m sure you could use a break.”

“Oh, look at you bein’ tempting.”

“It’s what I do best.” Loki straddles him, hands roaming his shoulders. Mobius’s breath catches. “Don’t you want to unwind?”

Mobius looks up at him, trying to seem unaffected. Loki knows better, though. “Stop being difficult.”

“I’ll stop being difficult when you stop denying me of my wants,” Loki pouts. He leans forward and kisses him, running his tongue along Mobius’s without shame. Mobius moans deeply, settling his hands on Loki’s hips and roaming the part of his body hungrily. 

When they pull away from the kiss, panting, Mobius laughs. “See? Brat.”

“I never denied it,” says Loki, running a hand along Mobius’s chest. “God, Mobi, I want it.”

“Sweetheart, you’re only in my lap and you’re already begging for it?” Mobius chuckles, one hand sneaking down to Loki’s backside and squeezing. Loki does whimper this time, willing to accept all that Mobius will give him. 

“Not begging,” Loki denies. “Just…asking nicely.”

Mobius hums. “Well, I do have to finish those papers.”

Loki huffs. “Who cares about the papers?”

“You should care,” Mobius replies casually. “That’s how I’m preparing those interviews and makin’ you all popular and such.”

The rock star rolls his eyes. “You are the absolute worst.”

“Only for you, honey,” Mobius whispers, eyes scanning Loki like he just may eat him alive. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear sweats before.”

Loki looks down at his pajama pants. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, they look good on you. You look comfortable.”

Loki is comfortable. Mobius has brought him to a point where he can be comfortable and carefree around him at all times. It’s satisfying and a change of scenery. Loki has never been this open with any other of his partners, and that’s only because he knows they were prone to judge anything that was out of place. 

But with Mobius, Loki can be himself and allow his façade to disappear. It’s refreshing.

Mobius sighs, kissing Loki’s neck. Loki leans into the feel of his lips, sighing as well, but this time in pleasure. He now realizes that not everything has to be a rush. He can just feel for once and take in the ease of being with Mobius. It’s a whole different tune to what he knows in life, but he’s beginning to like it. 

“You’re so gorgeous, y’know that?” Mobius murmurs, hand running up and down his back. “Don’t think I’ll ever tire of telling you that.”

Loki feels cherished in Mobius’s arms, like he’s the most exquisite thing the agent has ever held. It certainly boosts his ego, which is probably not a good thing. But who cares? Loki is thriving in the attention and craves more and more. Mobius provides it without trouble and seems to like indulging in the rock star’s wants for praise. 

They stay together like that for a while, simply holding each other and breathing one another in. Mobius smells like the coast, like the epitome of the bay and its contents of sea water and sand. 

What they’ve established as their relationship is too good to be true. There are foundations attached and Loki doesn’t want it to end, he can’t let it end. He feels a sense of tranquility and he doesn’t want to departure from the fuzzy headspace he seems to constantly be enveloped in when around the older man. He feels protected even if Loki knows he’s strong enough to take care of anything that comes his way. He feels safe in Mobius’s arms, the arms that hold him through the night and comfort him when needed. 

A ding! sounds at Mobius’s side on the sofa. Mobius sighs, taking his phone in one hand, his other still secured on the back of Loki’s neck. 

“Probably Ravonna.”

Loki’s brows furrow. “She still texts you?”

“Not as much as she used to, but that woman is stubborn,” he murmurs in frustration. 

However, when Mobius’s gaze lands on the screen, he sits up instantly, Loki almost falling off his lap. “Jesus Christ.”

“What? What is it?” Loki asks in anticipation. 

Mobius grins, enthusiastic eyes meeting his. “Loki Laufeyson, you’ve been officially invited on The Tonight Show with Wanda Maximoff. Live in New York.”