Chapter Text
Loki had always felt like an outcast.
It didn’t really matter if it was in high school or here, in university. He had trouble making friends, even more trouble maintaining anyone who might be slightly interested in getting to know him. He knew he was a crass, obnoxious, know it all, but he did believe he heightened those characteristics because he knew everyone would leave, and he wanted to be able to pinpoint why.
So, while Mobius, star of the football team was very nice to him, Loki could not bring himself to be kind back.
They shared creative writing together, sat next to each other. Mobius was clearly the only one of his kind to step foot in a creative writing class, so he searched the room trying to find anyone who also looked like an outcast. Loki usually sat alone, only conversing when it was academically required. He was put off by Mobius’s enthusiasm to introduce himself, with all his blonde hair and obviously broken nose.
“I’m Mobius,” he said, sitting confidently next to Loki. He was a little intrigued about why Mobius was in a final year creative writing class. He didn’t seem like the type. But Loki forced himself not to care and really forced himself to do nothing more than to smile weakly at Mobius as he sat next to him.
It didn’t turn out to be a horrible thing, though. Mobius was actually very clever and a very talented writer. He proved to be a great partner when it came to projects and helped a lot with editing and writer’s block. They favored different authors, different genres, and different writing styles entirely. Mobius was typically sucked in by science fiction, while Loki typically liked to write and read romance novels. He had gotten used to Mobius’s constant qualms with Loki’s idea of romance and how he writes his characters.
“He just doesn’t seem very nice!” Mobius added, pages deep in something Loki had written. “It seems like she is always trying to make sure he is interested and fix his problems. It sounds exhausting.”
Loki shrugged at him, taking the pages back. “Love is exhausting.”
He was acting like he had all this grand experience, when he had one girlfriend in high school, and it was nothing serious. His idea of love had purely come from books and movies and other media. He liked writing toxic ideas of love, thought it was all a bit twisted. He liked the idea that he could make something typically so pure, so unattractive.
“I guess,” Mobius shrugged, putting his laptop away as class was just about over. “Wouldn’t it be nice to write about love in a way that’s just kindness and understanding, though? It might help you be less prickly.”
“I beg your pardon?” Loki demanded, shooting daggers at the man.
“Well, I think you're great,” Mobius said, looking defensively at the other. “You’re incredibly talented and I think your wit is remarkable. You just seem a little...I don’t know, wound up? Like you seem so tense all the time, like I’m going to shout your deepest darkest secret to the entire class. So closed off.”
Mobius said all of that so casually. That’s what hurt him the most. And he hated how he cared. He hated that it hurt him. He hadn’t grown fond of him, but to hear someone he shared intimate creations break him apart, in public, without seemingly any thought or consideration for how he might feel, it was humiliating. He knew Mobius would be like the others. Just took him a little longer.
Loki rolled his eyes at him, put his stuff away, and walked out of class without a single word.
--
Mobius would do this very annoying thing and try to speak with Loki outside of class. Mobius was also an avid schedule follower. He would be in class at the same time, at the gym at the same time, and in the dining hall at the same time every single day. Loki liked that he could rely on that and do everything in his power to avoid those areas at that time of day. Sometimes, rarely, it was unavoidable, but usually, Loki was able to safely keep his distance.
That day, however, it was unavoidable. Loki was at the dining hall, grabbing a coffee when he felt the presence next to him. He rolled his eyes. They hadn’t spoken since class, and that was nearing a week ago. He wasn’t waiting for some gesture or apology, he just wanted to be over with the class so he could be done with Mobius. That’s how he did things. He cut people off that hurt him. It was easy. It was clean. Mobius clearly did not see things that way.
“You avoid me like the plague,” Mobius said, grabbing his own coffee. He had no idea why he was in the dining hall this early, he didn’t usually go until later. He hated that he knew that, but it was a necessary evil. To stay away.
Loki paid for his coffee and turned to leave. He knew he was being rude. His mother really did raise him better than that. But he just hated people. Truly. They were naïve and stupid, and they just hurt others all the time. It was like people couldn’t exist around each other without just being constantly mean and hurtful. Loki learned that from a young age and avoided making friends because of it. People will hurt you, and they will rub salt in the wound to make sure you feel it.
“Seriously?” Mobius huffed, turning to follow Loki. It was the first time Loki had heard some kind of irritation in his voice. He was normally very calm and easy-going. “I am trying to talk to you.”
Loki huffed back at him, shoving his wallet down deep into his pocket. “Yeah? I guess I just don’t really care. I’m prickly, remember?” Loki rolled his eyes as Mobius followed him down to the writing wing like a little puppy dog.
“So, you are pissed about that!”
“No, I’m not.”
“You so are.”
“No, truly Mobius, I am not.”
Mobius grabbed Loki’s wrist to get him to stop moving so quickly. Loki ripped his wrist back, but stayed still, standing in front of him anyway. He resisted the urge to click his tongue and tap his feet. He really was quite rude. Not a matter for the moment, however.
“I’m sorry, Loki.” Mobius said. It was a little sad, he did seem genuinely sorry. Loki, however, was the master at holding grudges. Mobius was not escaping the red taped line he had already made in his head. “It came out harsher than I wanted, but I don’t think I made my point very obvious.”
Loki made sure he rolled his eyes hard so Mobius could understand just how annoying he was being. “Oh really? And now what? We’re going to rehash how prickly and closed off I am just so you can word it a bit nicer?”
“Do you not understand what is happening?” Mobius asked, desperately. “I’m trying to understand you and you make it seem like I am attacking you. I think you’re amazing, all I was trying to say is that I wish you would let down your barriers a little. These are the barriers I am talking about. I am trying to apologize to you and you’re acting like I’m threatening you.”
“Feels one in the same to me,” Loki said, coldly. He was making his own blood feel particularly cold. Loki knew he was being especially cruel because Mobius was relentless. Most people would have just given up and left well enough alone. Not Mobius. He was the type to follow you around and force you to talk it out. Loki had to crush the spirit. Whatever barriers Mobius was talking about were there for a very good reason, and Mobius was like everyone else. He would eventually tire of him, tire of his ways and his antics and his tongue. And then Loki would be left feeling like a failure who was impossible to love. It was easier to just never let anyone love him in the first place. If they never cared, they could never hurt him.
Mobius pulled his lips in, holding his hands up. He sighed and turned to walk away. Loki watched him. He felt sad, for a moment. Mobius was particularly kind, but even a particularly kind someone can be awfully cruel.
He turned on his heels slowly and walked to his next class.
--
Class was much more awkward, to say the least. Mobius missed the first one back since they exchanged words. It was very unlike him to miss a class, and Loki had to bite down the tinge of guilt he felt. Gone were the many discussions on their works. Mobius read his pages, nodded, made a few edits and handed it back. He rarely spoke, rarely engaged. Loki knew it was because of how he acted, so even when he was trying to find some way to put this on Mobius, he couldn’t. Not this time. He still felt that at the end of the day, it was better like that. For Loki anyway.
Loki handed over a short story he was handing in for extra credit to Mobius to edit and Mobius did the same. He wasn’t surprised to see a short story explaining the multiverse and how it would look, according to Mobius. It was very good, very interesting. He would even dare say Mobius was a better writer than him, though he would obviously never say that out loud.
Mobius rubbed the back of his neck as he was reading Loki’s story. Loki narrowed his eyes as he watched him read. The look Mobius had on his face was not very convincing.
And Loki couldn’t help himself. “What? What’s wrong with it?” Loki reached out to grab the story out of Mobius’s hands, but Mobius pulled it back. He smiled at Loki. That was the most interaction they had with each other in weeks.
“Nothing,” Mobius said, continuing to read. “Just this is very...nice.”
“Well, what does that mean?” Loki pressed.
“These people in this story, they seem nice.” Mobius made some edits and handed it back to Loki. Loki grabbed it in haste and read over some lines quickly. “You usually write such dark people being drawn to other dark people, but in this story, they just seem like normal flawed nice people who have normal circumstances happening. I like it. Telling a romance story where it’s about maintaining love and affection, and how difficult it can be, rather than a story about chasing and obtaining it. It’s different for you, and I like it. That’s all.”
Loki held the papers to his chest. He had known that his story was different than others he had written, but one can only write about the chase of the unchaseable so many times in so many different variations. He hadn’t really thought it was that different for him. It still had dark undertones, still had conflict and pain. But Loki accepted the compliment and stared at Mobius for a while. Mobius had a small, soft smile on his face, and he realized in that moment that he hated how much Mobius looked at him like a wounded bird.
“Oh,” Loki finally mustered. “Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it.”
Mobius held his hands up and looked away. “And to think we were getting somewhere.”
Loki turned back to face the front of the classroom, his face feeling warm and his mind running in circles. He was trying to pay attention, but it was difficult with Mobius looking at him from the corner of his eye. He could just feel it. A part of him hated Mobius, he thought. How could he undress him like he had done weeks before and Mobius was still sitting around waiting for it to get better. The blind optimism was infuriating to Loki.
Class ended and Loki had to stop himself from sprinting out of class. Mobius didn’t even bother to move from his seat and Loki fumbled over his own. He wanted to leave so badly, he even forgot to turn in his extra credit.