#lokius fluff

"Loki, I'll be fine. I've done this plenty of times." Mobius sighs, rolling his eyes. Not too keen on being reprimanded by the other, but still continuing his piling of papers and files.

"It's sharp so just be careful." Loki gives a quick smile, then regains his focus on what he was doing before.

Mobius continues his routine, he opens the box, unloads the papers, and breaks down the box. Over and over. He begins to get frustrated, opening the boxes with less and less care, sloppily throwing them across the floor when broken down. Then, slamming the piles of papers on the table -- a few flying off, which results in Mobius grunting in annoyance and stacking them back up. He continues on, yawning and then huffing when something doesn't go perfectly. Papers scattering and reorganizing themselves in ways much too difficult to quickly put back in proper order.

"Love, are you okay?" Loki questions, putting down his book and focusing his gaze towards his partner yet again. His eyebrows furrowed, a worried expression creeping up his features.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Loki. Just. Fine." He spits out, his words laced with venom, hitting Loki harder than a dagger to his heart.

"Maybe you should take some time to rest. Take a step back?" Loki then moves to stand, taking the scattered papers in his hands, finding their original order. "You've been at this for a while."

"I have too much to do, to rest." Mobius practically hisses, breaking down his tenth box in the past half hour. Loki calmly shakes his head, deciding to abandon his past endeavor and moving on to helping his beloved. He grabs the closest box, which is placed directly to the right of Mobius. He picks it up, grunting at the weight of it. He places it on the table, slightly slamming it down, completely unintentionally. He mumbles a quick apology which earns him an "Mhm" from Mobius.

"Shit." He hisses then grasps his hand tightly.

"Are you okay, love?" Loki quickly walks over to where Mobius stands. He holds his hand out, "Let me see."

"It's just a nick, it's fine." Mobius' eyebrows begin to knit, his eyes shut in pain.

"Darling," he warns, wrapping his hand gently around Mobius' left wrist, pulling it towards him so he can inspect it. "You're bleeding."

"I know. But it isn't bad."

Loki chuckles, rolling up Mobius' sleeve. "You're right, it isn't horrible. But you still got hurt." With a wave of his hand and a puff of green smoke, a small first aid kit appears on the table beside him. "Keep your hand steady."

Mobius nods, his gaze focused upon Loki's movements. The opening of the case and how he neatly -but quickly- lines up the needed items. Bandages, cloth, hydrogen peroxide -the works. He hisses as a spark of pain shoots up his arm, sourcing from his fingertips. He finally looks down and notices the small bits of blood seeping from the cuts across the tips of his fingers. It's the deepest -and the worst- on his middle and ring fingers, only a scratch on his pointer. He wasn't paying attention when it happened, too wrapped up in his pure exhaustion to notice the box cutter getting too close to his hand. It nicked him pretty decently on the tips of his fingers, but luckily not too deep but deep enough to cause a bit of bleeding. And a good bit of pain along with it.

"You'll be okay." Loki looks up towards Mobius, meeting his eyes. Noticing the pained and concerned expression on the man, he shoots him a soft smile, saying "I promise" without having to utter a word. He moves back to what he was doing, grasping the cloth first, dabbing up the bits of blood that's collected. Wrapping it gently over Mobius' hand, he pats it going to grab the peroxide and another cloth. "Hold that there for a second, k love?"

Mobius nods, holding the cloth tightly around his fingertips. Trying to soothe the pain by controlling his breathing. Loki then retrieves the peroxide and the cloth, dabbing a bit of the peroxide on. He gestures for Mobius to release the cloth wrapping his fingers, he does so, letting it fall to the floor.

"Are you okay?" Loki dabs the peroxide-covered cloth over his cut, Mobius hissing in response.

"I think. But it stings. And it's oddly cold." He hums in response, opening his eyes to watch as Loki wraps up his middle and ring finger, patting it slightly and then shooting him another grin.

"Think it's time for some sleep now?" He stands up, reaching for Mobius' hand.

"Sleep is for the weak." Shining a half-grin to Loki, he goes right back to unpacking boxes and boxes of variant files.

"Oh no, you don't! Rest time!" Loki follows his words by pushing the boxes away from Mobius, pulling him away from his hours' worth of work.

"This wouldn't have happened if you helped." Mobius crosses his arms, holding back a smile.

"Mobius, you never asked for help." He laughs, showing a wide grin. Happy his partner isn't quite as angry at him.

“It’s not like I have an on-and-off switch for it!” Loki’s voice was nasally, croaky and weak compared to his usual smooth words. “If I had my magic I’d be able to stop, but nooo, the bloody TVA doesn’t know how to have fun. Boring bastards. I mean, really, depriving a god of his magic? It’s borderline sin—“

“Quit your yapping, would you?” Mobius tugged at his arm and sat him down at the dining table, patting his shoulder as he walked behind him for good measure. “You’re gonna lose your voice if you keep blabbing on like that.”

“No, I won’t, because I’m not ill. We’ve already been through this, Mobius.”

“Nah, you went through it. I just had to sit and listen ‘cuz there was no way in hell to get you to shut up.” Mobius smirked at him, turning around to turn on the kettle and get two mugs out of the cupboard above. He opened a draw and retrieved a couple of spoons out of it, dropping one into a mug and setting the other on the counter. “I don’t know what constitutes ‘ill’ on Asgard, but by my standards, you’re sick.”

“Gods don’t get sick.” Loki practically sneered.

“So you’ve used up a box of tissues blowing your nose, what, just for fun?”

Loki just rolled his eyes and growled under his breath, but with the way that his nose was flushed red he had all the intimidation of a kitten. Mobius chuckled as he poured out the now boiling water into the two mugs. “That’s what I thought.”

He brought the two mugs over to the table, being careful not to spill the water, and Loki quickly set down coasters before Mobius could put the mugs down. He gave him a sheepish grin as he said thank you, knowing full well the coffee rings adorning all the surfaces through their apartment were solely his fault. He just had more pressing things on his mind than what surface his cups were sitting on!

Regardless, he grabbed a jar from the counter and popped open the lid, grabbing the spoon in the mug and scooping out a big dollop of honey, dropping it into the hot water and stirring it well. He did the same for the other mug, and when he was done he scooped up a smaller, more modest spoonful of honey. With his other hand, he tapped at Loki’s cheek. “Open up.”

“I’m not a child.” Loki pouted, though he complied anyway.

“I know.” Mobius said, before unceremoniously shoving the spoon into his mouth. “Suck on that for a little while, it’ll help while you wait for the water to cool down enough to drink. Feel free to help yourself to some more.”

He placed the jar in front of Loki on the table and smiled at him fondly before turning to the stove. He busied himself with emptying a tin of soup into a saucepan and started to heat it up, fetching a bowl from the cupboard in the process. He could feel Loki’s eyes watching him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was quite comforting, actually.

“My mother would approve.” Came a quiet voice from behind him.

“Mm?” He looked over his shoulder to glance at Loki, who had a soft expression lingering over his face. Mobius could tell that he was lost in thought. “Approve of what?”

“You, bustling around to take care of me.” Loki’s gaze fell towards the mugs in front of him. He let out a breathy chuckle, sniffing back a sneeze before speaking again. “She used to force honey on me, too. It tastes different on Asgard, did you know? I doubt that we have the same bees, but- just interesting, is all…”

Mobius looked towards him sympathetically, knowing this was coming from the deep sense of homesickness that Loki had never really grown out of. He could say he hated his family and past life as much as he wanted, but judging from the way he’d cried watching his TVA files in the time theatre it was clear it all still had a place in his poor heart.

Mobius silently sighed to himself, scornfully wishing there was some way that he could give Loki everything he wanted and more, but he knew that it would never go well. Every bad plan here at the TVA ended with a pruning stick.

He supposed he’d have to settle with comforting him as much as he could. He could do that for him. He’d do it until the end of time.

Mobius took the saucepan off the heat and poured the soup into the bowl, careful not to splatter it everywhere, and took the spoon that was sitting on the counter to drop it into the bowl. The steam rising up from the hit liquid danced in front of his eyes, and it smelt delicious, even if only from a tin.

He woefully thought that Loki would probably much prefer homemade soup, similar to the kind he would have had when he was younger, but Mobius knew he’d never live up to the expectations of Asgardian soup. This would have to do for now.

He set the bowl down in front of Loki and pulled his chair so he would be sitting right next to the god. His hand fell into Loki’s, intertwining their fingers and squeezing him firmly, hoping it would convey all the care he had in his heart for him.

“Tell me more?” He asked softly.

Loki gave him a small smile and leant forward to press a kiss to his forehead.