[He lifts Loki's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckles instead. Then it's back to just - holding it. Letting his own be held in return. Enjoying the casual touch.]
The expectations of an office work environment are probably a little wacky when you're the god of mischief. I can only imagine.
[The contemplative tilt of his head is brief. He'll take 'mischief' over 'lies.' He'll take being gently held over tightly gripped. A nod to himself, the tangle of his own thoughts, and he sits up properly again (without letting go, of course).]
The expectations are a little wacky as a matter of course. Dress shoes alone are painfully ridiculous.
Even mine? [Still holding Loki's hand (because he'd never let go), Mobius scoots his chair back just enough to extend a leg, showing off his Chelsea boot and some of his sock.]
I always thought my little booties were pretty cool. And comfy.
[Not that there wasn't a certain patterning to Loki's own appearance in the style of the man before him. Even down to the shoes (although with a bit more of a proper heel, because he's not ridiculous).]
You look good in anything. Don't even hafta try. And I'm hardly designed for field work.
[Mobius chuckles.]
I'm so used to spendin' all my time behind a desk. This is the most action I've gotten since... [He sighs, racking his brain and coming up empty.] Can't even remember how long it's been.
[Mobius is still smiling, his gaze occasionally drifting down to their hands. He plays with Loki's fingers, brushing his thumb against them, letting it travel across his knuckles. Always touching, never stopping. Smooth and languid.]
Ideally... we can go anywhere you want. I just need to fudge the paperwork a little.
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I am who I am. [Still. After a beat, his own grip tightens--stays tight.] And I am trying.
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[He lifts Loki's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckles instead. Then it's back to just - holding it. Letting his own be held in return. Enjoying the casual touch.]
The expectations of an office work environment are probably a little wacky when you're the god of mischief. I can only imagine.
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The expectations are a little wacky as a matter of course. Dress shoes alone are painfully ridiculous.
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I always thought my little booties were pretty cool. And comfy.
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[Not that there wasn't a certain patterning to Loki's own appearance in the style of the man before him. Even down to the shoes (although with a bit more of a proper heel, because he's not ridiculous).]
Serviceable, maybe?
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I like yours too y'know. This isn't a competition or anything. Just don't get how you can run with a heel.
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They suit you. [Could be devastating, but comes across a bit more thoughtful than anything.] And a heel suits me.
[To match his brother's height? First of all, how dare you.]
Suits are hardly ideally designed for running, you know.
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[Mobius chuckles.]
I'm so used to spendin' all my time behind a desk. This is the most action I've gotten since... [He sighs, racking his brain and coming up empty.] Can't even remember how long it's been.
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It's better, isn't it?
[To be free, even if only from a desk?]
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What? Runnin' around like a chicken without its head? [He's frowning a bit, but the grin is back in record time.] Never felt younger.
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[Speaking of close, it's nice being close enough--and lightly tangled enough--to lean and drop a thoughtless kiss against the man's knuckles.]
The stress keeps you young, you know.
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Does it? Sure doesn't seem like it does...
[But that kiss! Oh it's just enough to get him flushed and flustered. Look how shy he's getting about it.]
50 years later with coffee sorry sorry hope you've been well bb ❤️
[Or maybe it's the kisses? There's probably only one way to find out. Unfortunately, that way probably does require more stress.]
ilu ilu~~ :3
[He's already two steps ahead, Loki. Picking up what you're putting down. He's a bit of an expert here, and sometimes he likes to flex that.
Mobius flexes his fingers, giving Loki's hand a squeeze.]
That's just... my theory.
ilu!!
The company would be far better outside of an office environment. Where it could really stretch its legs, hm?
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Are you saying we should... relocate? [Hmm? There's a pointed look here.] ...Maybe?
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[What a thing, to be smiled at like this. Loki finds his feet properly, fingers shaking for freedom to allow for a proper stretch.]
How far would we go?
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[Mobius is still smiling, his gaze occasionally drifting down to their hands. He plays with Loki's fingers, brushing his thumb against them, letting it travel across his knuckles. Always touching, never stopping. Smooth and languid.]
Ideally... we can go anywhere you want. I just need to fudge the paperwork a little.
[Then he looks up, right into Loki's eyes.]
How's that sound?