Our Sunset / Lokius

Our Sunset

Mobius' skin should burn at the touch, but all Loki feels when he drags his hands over the tanned skin is comforting warmth. Looking directly at him should blind him, but all he sees is a faint glow surrounding him.

"You're oddly quiet," Mobius murmurs, his warm mouth nipping at Loki's cold neck.

They're pressed up against one another, on their sides, not a single piece of cloth separating them. It's the only way they can touch without Loki's garments catching on fire or Mobius' own freezing over.

"Am I?" Loki says, smiling when the answer grants him a huff of warm air against his cheek.

"Come on, tell me. What's eating you?"

"You, hopefully."

Mobius' laugh is loud. "You're insatiable today."

Before Loki can respond, warm hands are gripping his waist, rolling him back against the sand. Not his first choice, but the sand never froze nor caught on fire, and Mobius always looked so eager to come here.

"I'd be happy to go again, sweetheart, but I don't think your heart will be in it."

Calloused fingers begin to move up and down his body, tracing the constellations marked on his skin with heat. It turns his muscles into jelly, the gentle touches working as intended.

How he wishes he could always feel these hands on him, at anytime.

"I wish we had longer," he murmurs, leaning forward to nuzzle his sun's warm cheek. "It's not fair, to have you ripped away from me everyday."

Already can he feel the pull, summoning him to take his place in the sky.

Mobius pulls back, the golden glow around his blue iris' seeming to dim by the minute. "But we have eternity, that's more than what most could say, sweetheart."

That they do. Centuries and centuries, and not once has he tired of this.

The faint sound of crashing waves in the distance is comforting. He breathes in the air, smells the salty ocean he's grown so accustomed to over the decades, ever since Mobius brought them here. 

"Kiss me before you go, will you?"

And Mobius does, cradling his cheeks, igniting him from within.