Mobius discovered him a short while later, his head buried in his hands, a picture of despair.
“Files giving you a headache?” Mobius teased, his voice gentle as he approached.
Loki jerked upright, blinking rapidly as the harsh fluorescent lights stabbed at his eyes, making him squint. Mobius stepped forward, positioning himself to block the blinding glare.
“No, but my brother certainly is…” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration before letting his forehead drop to the desk with a dramatic, echoing thud.
“Well, that’s not gonna help,” Mobius laughed, pulling out the chair beside Loki and lowering himself into it. “What has Thor done this time?”
“He’s just being an oaf, as usual,” Loki muttered. He rolled his head to the side on the desk to sneak a glance at Mobius through unruly curls. “I’ll fill you in later,” he added quickly, lifting his head just enough to meet Mobius’s eyes, a silent plea for distraction in his gaze. “Right now, can you help me decode this file? I can’t make sense of these markings, and my brain doesn’t want to cooperate after everything I was just put through.”
“Sure thing, partner,” Mobius replied with a bright grin, scooting his chair closer until their thighs brushed.
Loki’s heart fluttered, a jolt of warmth blooming in his chest at the smallest touch. His fingers twitched against his thigh, aching to bridge the distance between them; to reach for Mobius’ hand, to confess all the things he kept hidden behind careful words.
But he couldn’t.
Because, no matter what Thor insisted, Mobius wasn’t his, and he wasn't Mobius’.
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