#loki dancing

“Alright, but not here.” he whispered into your ear, slipping an arm around you. Leading you away from the party and its music. It surprised you a tad when you ended up in his room. You’d been there a couple times before, when he’d refused to leave it when he first arrived. You were the one that brought him food and fresh clothes. And then a couple months later when he was injured but didn't go to the med wing. It wasn't hard to see how much he cared for you. And if  he wasn't the god of lying, you’d for sure realize he was in love with you. (Or at least that's what he told himself.) all in all,  it was very entertaining for the team watching the two of you get so confused by the other, the whole time being oblivious to the fact that it was painfully obvious how in love with each other you are.

“Better now?” He asked as he shut the door to his room, you nodded from your spot on his bed. And very softly he took your hands and pulled you close to him. Starting some intricate slow dance that you guessed was asgardian. 

“See this isn't so bad.” you told him, smiling.

“I never said i didn't like dancing.” He let out a small smile. 

“But you never-” You started.

“I detest midgardian dancing.” he answered before you could finish. Spinning you in a small flourish, before pulling you even closer to him. 

“That's kind of rude, ya know.”  you murmured leaning  into his chest. Sighing happily at the contact, you adored the fact that he was never too warm.

“My deepest apologies m’lady.” And that god forsaken smirk graced his godforsaken face.

“Damn straight.” You told him, all but nuzzling into his clothing. And in the gentlest of motions he rested his chin on your head. Slowing the swaying until you were both just holding each other. 

“Done crying now?” he teased. 

“Wasn't crying in the first place.” you shot back smiling at  your successful plan. 

“Excuse me.” he said, stepping back to look at you, “you were blubbering in the middle of Starks party.” 

“W-w-hhat you m-mean this?” You mocked, letting tears fall freely. And his mouth became a fine line as realization settled in. You had tricked the god of mischief. 

“Oh, aren't you just the cleverest earthing.” He gritted out, causing you to blush. Pulling you back into his embrace, smiling once again. Sure he’d been bested, but he didn't mind being best by you. 

“Loki?” you questioned, he hummed in response, “one more dance?” 

He knows it, too, you’ve poked plenty of adoring fun at him when you were dating and he’d make the mistake of wiggling a little to the song playing over the loudspeakers.

Okay, it’s cute.

And honestly, not completely hopeless. His moves are a tiny bit…dad-like, with the snapping and head bopping, but it’s really, really cute when his hips start moving and he closes his eyes and hums a little bit—

God, he’s just vacuuming, that shouldn’t be so adorable.

Normally Loki doesn’t dance like this unless he’s drunk or you’ve given him some kind of incentive to attend a social event, but you just walked in the door.

That means Loki’s been home alone, for the two hours-ish you had to work overtime.

And apparently he got a hold of your Spotify account, because here’s your husband, vacuuming the living room, singing along to Safety Dance as he sways around the couch.

First of all, he’s cleaning, while you weren’t even here to “reward him,” and second of all…

“Cause your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance, well, they are no friends of mine—”

Oh my god.

This makes everything better. All that overtime, missed appointments, and angry reps were worth it, getting to come home to find your mean ol’ godly hubby singing along to 80’s music and dancing like—like that.

He pops a hip as the beat hits and you nearly lose it, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your snort.

“—and we can act like we come from out of this world and leave the real one far behind…”

This is unbearable.

Without a second thought, you dump your bags on the floor and run into the room, smacking his cute butt on the way and grabbing him around the waist, jumping right into the song with him.

Loki practically screeches in shock, turning bright pink at being caught, but you just grab his face and kiss him nice ‘n hard.

“We can dance, we can dance,” you giggle into his lips, dancing a little as you kick off your shoes. “Everything’s out of control—”

“Welcome home,” Loki laughs, quickly regaining his balance and taking your hands in his to sway side to side with you, leaning in to kiss you again. “I’ll be speaking to Stark for making you stay so late, that bastard—”

Your finger smushes up against his lips. “Shh. It wasn’t his fault, just forget it. This is a much needed distraction.”

“Are you sure, my love?”

Another chorus of safety dances blares up again and you can’t help but giggle; smiling feels so wonderful after a day like today.

“I could easily provide a slightly more thorough distraction,” Loki continues, spinning you under his arm and quickly twisting you back out. “It’d be my pleasure—yours, actually—”

“Oh, shut it,” you laugh, breathlessly jumping away from him, arms out as you twirl. “I haven’t heard this song in years, keep it in your pants and let’s do something with our clothes on, for once.”

“To be completely honest…” Loki grins and pushes the vacuum out of the way, jumping onto the couch and holding out a hand to you. “I might be glad you said that.”

“But you’re the one who suggested the other thing—”

“It’s my first instinct,” he chirps, helping you onto the couch. “Have you seen yourself? You can’t blame me, it’s just natural.”

“You’re so stupid. I love you.”

Why you’re jumping on the couch, I don’t think Odin could even answer, but Loki had the right idea—this is nice.

Weirdly childish, but it’s your couch, in your house, your dinner you’re now putting off, your time you’re wasting.

Reality can go suck it; you’re going to ignore its existence for a while longer.

You jump a little higher, grabbing Loki’s hands and syncing up with him as you start singing at the top of your lungs again.

The song changed and now Loki’s laughing, hair whipping around him as he scrunches his eyes closed, bites his lip and shakes his head around—another excuse for a dorky dance move.

“Did you know this might be my favourite Midgardian song?”

“Hm?” You jump closer. “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic? I thought you didn’t like 80’s!”

“I never said that,” Loki gasps, long fingers pressing to his chest. “I happen to enjoy music of all decades, and this song especially.”

“You liar,” you giggle and poke him in the gut just to see him flinch when it tickles. “You told me you hated my ‘Midgardian noise,’ and it really offended me for a couple days—”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs. “This song makes me think of you, and no, I’m not just trying to flatter you.”

“Mhm.”

A glint in his eye, he lurches forward to grab you around the waist and spin you around, ignoring your shrieks of laughter and plopping you down on the other side of the couch.

“Every little thing she does is magic,” he decides to nearly shout along with the music, “everything she does just turns me on—”

“Even though my life before was tragic,” you jump in, breathlessly scrambling back to your feet and bouncing around him.

Loki grabs your face between his hands and smashes his lips to yours. “Now I know my love for her goes on…”

“You’re such a flirt,” you grumble, leaning all your weight into him as he kisses you with grinning lips.

Going, going…flop.

His back hits the couch taking you down with him, arms tight around your waist.

“Guilty.”

You just shuffle around so you’re not squishing him and reconnect your lips, breathless and a little sweaty, kissing away everything bad in the world.

“So,” Loki manages to get out between kisses, “bad day?”

“The worst, but that helped.”

“Tell me every awful detail.”

His hand fits so perfectly around your head, pulling you down to smooch your forehead and tuck you into the curve of his neck.

“Nah,” you sigh, nuzzling into his intoxicating scent of home. “It’s probably stupid, I won’t annoy you with all that.”

“My love.”

“Hm?”

His thumb is cold along your jaw, lips cool against your forehead.

“I happen to enjoy speaking with you.”

You hug him tighter, hiding your giddy grin in his neck. “You sure? I might rant for hours—”

“And I will love every second of it,” Loki promises.

“You’re somethin’ special, your majesty.” For someone so cold, he certainly is good at making you feel warm. “Most guys couldn’t give two shits about their wives days.”

“For the record, love, I could give an infinite number of shits about you.”

“How…sweet,” you laugh, backhanding his chest and pressing a kiss to his throat. “Most guys don’t have impromptu dance parties with their girls either. But I’m glad you did.”

“Well, I’m not like those ‘other guys,’ babe, remember—”

“You did not just call me babe.”

His laugh shakes the whole couch.

“Start ranting, my love.”

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