Chapter Text
Mobius had always been the man for delicate tasks, for pushing buttons and provoking responses.
Responses that were usually somewhat more coherent than this, but the analyst was hardly inclined to complain about the soft gasps coaxed out by his tongue swirling around Sylvie's clit.
He paused for a moment, resting it flat against the swollen nub as he tilted his face up from where it lay cradled between silky smooth thighs. His eyes demanded to join in on the feast, trailing over the deceptively delicate body sprawled out in the sheets before him, up to Sylvie's beautifully flushed face buried in a sticky mess of golden curls.
Her arms were flung up over her head and would have dangled off the mattress rather helplessly, were it not for Loki crouching by the edge of the bed, holding her thin fingers in his.
Mobius caught the hungry spark in his eyes, the predatory flash of his smirk as Sylvie's hips bucked up, rubbing against his face.
"Moby—"
She was the first and only person in this or any other universe to ever call him that.
"Oh, she is enjoying your efforts," Loki winked at him, thumbs drawing slow circles across Sylvie's palms, "do proceed."
Mobius took another second to revel in this riveting display as Loki leaned down, mouth brushing along the crinkle between Sylvie's brows, traveling south from there, down her upturned face, to the Oh of her parted lips.
He complied then, returning his full attention to another glistening wet set, spreading them with his tongue to lap at the tight slit in-between. The whimper it earned him was stifled by Loki's kiss, yet urgent enough to almost make him forget himself.
Mobius dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Sylvie's legs, desperately fighting the need to reach down and relieve a modicum of the throbbing tension in his own groin. But he knew better than that. The last time he touched himself without permission he ended up tied in unyielding green tendrils and with tears streaming down his face, begging for his release, from the bonds and otherwise. As fun as that had been, he wasn't entirely convinced that his system would survive another round.
No, his Gods seemed to prefer him not to take matters into his own hands when they were in bed together, and it was wise to obey them. To close his eyes and soften his lips, losing himself in Sylvie's heat and smell and flavour, sweeter than anyone should dare to taste between their legs. To float on the whispered sound of kisses and the feeling of toned muscles twitching beneath his fingers, so intoxicating it took him a moment to notice a hand petting the top of his head.
Whose hand it was he could not tell, but he gave a little hum of acknowledgement, continuing the diligent ministrations of his mouth as it slipped down his cheek and underneath his chin, nudging him up. He knew now that those were Loki's fingers and moved his face a few inches to make space for them, sucking Sylvie's clit into his mouth as they slipped between her legs.
The garbled moan that followed brought along another hand clenching in his hair, smaller but fiercer, holding him in place. He could do this all day, Mobius thought, breathless in every way. Just this. Yet his body was in furious disagreement, thrumming and aching for the treats yet to come. There was no telling for sure with these two whirls of chaos, but using his best judgment as an analyst gave him a few delightful ideas of what might be on the menu.
"You made her lovely and wet, Mobius," Loki purred in appreciation, thoroughly coating his fingers. "Very nice."
Simple words of praise that tingled along the agent's spine as Loki withdrew his fingers and moved out of sight. A few rushed heartbeats later he felt the Frost Giant's weight sink into the mattress behind him and a firm hand on his pelvis, guiding him up.
Mobius shivered in anticipation, lifting his hips from the bed to allow Loki to position him as he pleased. Sylvie's lean, strong legs came up to wrap around his shoulders, one heel digging between the blades, joining her hands in trapping his face against her core. Not that he would even dream of trying to escape.
"Why don't you keep up the good work while I'm getting you ready," Loki suggested casually, deft fingers spreading his buttocks and teasing the sensitive, puckered skin in-between.
It wasn't, strictly speaking, a suggestion, and Mobius did not get to evaluate it beyond a muffled groan when two long, slicked-up digits pushed their way past the quivering ring of his entrance. Loki wasn't as gentle with him these days as in the beginning, when this was all new and nerve-wracking and utterly unexpected. It seemed a lifetime ago, and it probably was. The TVA was under new leadership, but time still passed differently here.
It seemed to stand still altogether now, as if out of sheer courtesy, allowing Mobius' mind to be slowly bent by Loki's curled fingers massaging his prostate with skilled precision as Sylvie was rocking up into his mouth, rubbing herself on his tongue. The need to breathe seemed laughably mundane and negligible by comparison, until the agent's lungs convulsed in his chest, an acute lack of oxygen sharpening the blissful tension into a cutting blade.
Just when the soft shade behind his closed eyelids threatened to take on a darker edge, the fingers stretching him and the legs holding him captive disappeared in perfect unison. Sometimes, these two versions of the same fascinating creature were in absolute harmony with each other, without the need for words. And other times they were like wild cats, ready to claw at each other's eyes. Mobius still wasn't sure on which of these occasions his two Gods appreciated having him between them more.
He instantly pushed himself up onto his knees, snapping for air, head swimming deliriously. Loki's powerful arms were there to wrap comfortingly around his middle, stopping him from drifting too far, and once his breath had steadied there was a hand on his jaw, nudging it sideways, and a warm tongue on his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose, licking Sylvie's flavour from his skin.
"You're wonderful," Loki muttered in his ear, filling him up to the brim with butterflies before pulling him into a soft kiss.
He tasted like all the best things in any time and any world that Mobius knew, rolled into one delicious whole that, for reasons he could not quite grasp, he was allowed to savour. There was rarely a day when he did not feel like the luckiest man alive, if an existence outside of the measured flow of time could be considered 'life' in the strictest sense.
The question seemed moot with Loki sucking on his tongue, one hand traveling north from his waist to caress each vertebra on its way up his spine.
Mobius was already losing himself in the deepening kiss when they were quite rudely interrupted by a mischievous foot sneaking between their bodies.
The agent peeled himself from his boyfriend's mouth, glancing over to where his girlfriend was stretching luxuriously in the sheets, not actually looking all that unhappy to have been relegated to watching them lock lips.
"Don't be greedy, babe," Sylvie chided her variant, that unfittingly dainty foot moving to bury itself in Mobius' ample chest hair.
"Greedy?" The so addressed chuckled in mock affront, slinging both arms around the agent's middle and pulling him tighter against his own body. "May I remind you that he was mine first?"
"Pff! Moby was chasing after me long before he met you."
"Wouldn't you say you've had your fair share of attention from our Mobius' mouth?"
"Now, now," the analyst offered appeasingly, not quite managing to suppress a little smile, "no need to argue."
"You love it," Loki grinned against his temple, one large hand sliding down to grip his sorely neglected erection, teasing out a startled mewl.
True, there were worse things in the world than having two gorgeous demigods fight over you, as long as this friendly rivalry didn't get out of hand, which it rarely did these days. Mobius made damn well sure not to give either of them a reason to doubt his loyalty, or his commitment to whatever insane, impossible, indescribably beautiful thing they were engaged in here.
"Alright then," Loki's warm breath ghosted over his mouth, the soft pad of a thumb stroking the underside of his cock, just below the glans, "lie back down and kiss her while I fuck you."
For the second time that night, Mobius' air had been cut off and replaced with a choking ball of heat in his chest. He barely managed as much as a small nod when Loki released him, eagerly sliding up Sylvie's petite frame until they were face to face and he was being pulled into another, more urgent kiss
Sylvie's lips were smoother, but their touch was rougher, less methodical, more impulsive. Mobius was granted a brief moment to relish the enticing contrast between his two lovers before she pulled away, taking his face between her palms and holding it at a little distance from her own.
Far enough to be able to watch his expression when Loki positioned himself behind him, letting his hot, slick cock glide up and down his cleft a few exasperating times before aligning it with his somewhat underprepared hole.
Mobius gave a shaky breath, dizzy with arousal, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Sylvie's head. Her gaze lacked some of its usual mocking quality, less pointy icicles, more shoreless sea. It always reminded him of... well, 'reminded' was hardly the right term, he could not remember.
There had been a time when he considered asking Sylvie to peek into his mind and show him. Who he had been, whom he had loved. She would have gladly indulged him, no doubt, but in the end he abandoned the thought. He did not need to know anything more than this, than them, and what could ever compare?
What could be as captivating as Sylvie biting her bottom lip, offering him a playful smirk as she stroked his cheeks. She took a special kind of delight in looking into his eyes as Loki took him, and undignified as it seemed, who was Mobius to deny her the pleasure?
The hitched breath when he felt that first nudge against his entrance, careful but insistent, the blunt pressure building steadily until his body yielded, little by little, and loosened up and—
"A-ah!"
This part never got easier, somehow, the enormous head of Loki's cock entering him so torturously slowly, letting him appreciate every inch in full. Mobius winced, willing his strained ring muscle to relax as it was slipping over the thick, velvety bulb.
"Shh..," Sylvie soothed him, sliding one thumb across his face and into his mouth, "you're ok. You're going to take that huge cock all the way."
Whatever incoherent noises Mobius managed in response were soon captured by his girlfriend's lips, her tongue filling his mouth as his boyfriend was pressing into him from behind.
Until his body was no longer his own and Loki was leaning over him, covering it with his own larger frame, holding charitably still as he kissed the agent's neck, his trembling shoulders, giving him time to adjust.
Mobius panted into Sylvie's mouth, twitching around the pulsing hardness stretching him out so beautifully, too drunk on this heady blend of agony and pure bliss to worry about his own erection throbbing ineffectually between their bodies.
Until Loki reminded him with a lingering kiss to his ear.
"You are being very good. Would you like to be inside her?"
"Please," the agent whispered, pressing his damp forehead against Sylvie's, barely able to form a single thought behind his knitted brows, "please."
It wasn't something that he would dare to initiate himself, he knew his place very well, and there was nowhere he would rather be than nestled between their perfect bodies.
He felt two strong hands sink into his hair and another wrap firmly around his cock as Sylvie shifted underneath him, spreading her legs. Mobius gasped helplessly at the soft, pliant slickness enveloping his swollen tip, at the sharpness of teeth biting his earlobe, sending his senses into overdrive as Loki pushed in, burying him to the hilt in that delirious silky tightness.
Everything locked into place then, pleasure snapping through his frame in one maddening rush of heat, bringing him down onto his forearms. Sylvie's soft moan in the hollow of his throat was echoed by Loki's huskier one against the nape of his neck, setting his blood on fire.
"Oh God," Mobius wheezed, hopelessly overwhelmed.
"Mmh?" Loki hummed into his burning skin, nudging his hips forward just a little, enough to send a dazzling jolt of electricity through his entire body.
"He meant me, obviously," Sylvie panted, grinding her own hips up against him in a fierce, needy jerk. "I'm the favourite."
"Fuck!" The agent corrected himself. He wasn't usually prone to swearing, but there were simply no words in his vocabulary for this. For the way one of Loki's arms came down on top of his own, interlacing their fingers, the other wrapping around his chest from behind. For the feeling of Loki picking up a steady, assertive rhythm, thrusting into him, and Sylvie meeting him on the other side, perfectly in sync.
It was all Mobius could hope for to try and stop himself from collapsing on top of her, his limbs turning to jelly as he happily relinquished all control, letting them rock his body back and forth between them like the most delicious seesaw.
One that swung rather gently, without haste, and yet it was already getting too much to take.
"No," Mobius sobbed, hands clenching in the damp sheets, "not yet—oh, fuck—o-oh—"
He was fighting a losing battle against the building tension in his stomach, no, he could not be the first one to come, not again, but Loki was hardly giving him a choice, driving into that dazzling spot inside him over and over, and over again.
"Yes," Sylvie purred breathlessly, "don't stop. I want to watch you ruin him."
"That's—not very kind—," Mobius whimpered, shuddering and dripping with sweat and saliva, holding on by a hair's breadth.
"Oh, I think we are being very kind to you," Loki whispered in his ear, pushing his legs further apart, slamming in harder, deeper, rubbing him into Sylvie's tight heat as his strokes grew more erratic.
"Fu—," the agent hooked a shin over his calf, desperate to keep him where he needed him, right there, fuck, yes, there—
"That's it," Sylvie encouraged, pulling his lower lip between her teeth before Loki's next thrust sent him over the edge, white-hot pleasure burning through his synapses, impossible to contain.
He could not hold in an embarrassing scream as Loki was expertly fucking him through his orgasm, until he lay boneless in Sylvie's arms, shaking and panting, vaguely aware of her fingers tightening in his hair, her own moans ringing louder in his ears.
There was a bright flash of emerald as she spasmed around his still-hard cock, squeezing his head between her hands to allow him to share her climax, too, wild and uninhibited and surprisingly desperate. It tore through his already spent system, wiping him out completely.
By the time he came to Loki had already rolled them over onto their sides, with Mobius still wrapped into their bodies, dissolved into both their heat, their settling heartbeat pounding against his back and chest.
"I love you," he whispered, no defences left in him, no barriers to stop such unnecessary sentimentality from flooding out. They had all been torn to shreds and molten away, and what was left were these words. "I love you I love you I love you..."
Naturally, his Gods were above such silly, mortal emotions, but the two pairs of hands caressing him and the two pairs of lips kissing his skin were answer enough.
——— Bonus: A little while later... ———
"Come on guys, it's not fair."
"Welcome to the real world, Agent Mobius."
"Mmh, we did agree that whoever comes first does the dishes."
"Yeah, I know, but for your two, it's just a wave of a hand. I'll have to actually wash them."
"Oh, my heart is breaking for you."
"Are you saying you're going back on your word?"
"No! I'm not a Loki."
"Thank Goodness, I couldn't deal with a third one of us."
"Shut up, Loki."
"Fine, I'll do the dishes, as long as both of you shut up."