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[ He moves with such an energy that even those with their backs toward him can feel coming from a distance. Most everyone else is tired, or afraid, or hurting, or some combination of all three; perhaps it's not so strange, then, that people move out of his way as he strides with Lexie in arms around the edge of the camp, navigating them around various obstacles, tables, and people until he reaches a series of empty tents. The blanket has remained throughout, tucked into his hold around her and held up through sheer force of will.

She can probably feel the way his heart rate has quickened, the way his skin warms where her breath lies against it.

One tent is picked at random, or maybe because it is already partially open; it smells of someone's cold, terrified sweat but the scent is hours old and half-aired out already. There's a bedroll on either side raised slightly off the ground and with a gesture from where his hands are wrapped around to Lexie's back, one of them slides across the stones to the other with a soft scraping.

This is barely a bed. This is barely a tent, by his measurements, and his breath stutters out as Loki steps forward, sinking to his knees. She could move but a little bit, and she'd be on the edge of the bedroll.

He pulls back enough to look at her face, remaining on his knees. Turns his head back to the tent's opening, gestures so that it seals itself. Never did he think he'd miss some invention as simple as the Midgardian zipper, but it's done and easily enough; his other hand has moved from where it was wrapped around her back to rest at her hip.

Loki refocuses his attention on the woman in front of him. ]

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[ Continued from here. ]

[ Loki memorized the number on the door. Just in case, he tells himself, and then the door is opened and they're inside, and he's still reeling from Mobius' earnestness when he tells Loki that he'll never be a disappointment to his friend.

Can he get that in writing? In stone perhaps? Burned into the heart of a star?

Left to his own devices this is about the point where his brain might spin out of control, at least briefly. Does Mobius think they should shower, first? How much of that furniture is weight bearing enough for two adult men? What is that knickknack over there? But Loki is given a directive and the part of his brain wired to please, the part of him that has thrived in Mobius' steady offerings of friendship, is more than happy to latch on to that order.

Not very chaotic of him, but, whatever. This time it's Loki's turn to grab the other man by the time, drawing close. His mouth presses against Mobius' with insistence, lips parting, pulling Mobius' bottom lip between his teeth again.

Mobius seemed to like that, so. Why not a repeat performance?

He steps entirely into Mobius' space, letting go of his tie in order to run his hands flat down Mobius' chest before coming to rest at his belt. There his hands pause, but his mouth does not, still kissing hungrily. ]

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[ Loki has known touch to be a charged and electric thing before, but that has been very different from this, this soft and gentle thing that still burns his skin, craving more and simultaneously not wanting to stop. She kisses him and he closes his eyes, hands settled at her waist, a shuddering breath when the belt is released.

He pulls back and opens his eyes, then, but only enough to pull the tunic over his head, mussing his hair immediately; instead of returning to her sides his hands touch her cheeks with gentle fingers reaching across her cheekbones. ]

You're beautiful, [ he tells her, and surely she knows this. Definitely, he is certain he is not the first to tell her so, likely not even the first to say so in bed, but he feels it needs to be mentioned again. ]

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[ Despite the lightheartedness of the request, Loki blinks for a moment, tilting his head as if weighing the seriousness of her statement before he stands up from the chair. His pants are suddenly very tight, not that he cares about that, exactly; he gives them a somewhat mindless tug as he rises to his feet and crosses the space between the chair and the bathtub. He sinks down to crouch at the side of the tub near her head, hands on the edge and spread out on either side of him.

He wants to tell her that he's interested in more than just a one time 'scientific' exploration of their shared attraction, but can't quite think of how best to form the words while still keeping in with the blithe tone they've been flirting in, so instead: ]

We could. A thorough experiment is probably best engaged in once you're out of the bathtub, though that doesn't mean we couldn't start... however you like, honestly.

[ Loki would like to kiss her again, actually, and leans forward a little to indicate this. ]