Loki sits on his bed, knees drawn to his chest. He glares at the pants sitting in front of him, refusing to make eye contact with Odin. Odin lingers in the doorway, sick of his son's childish disobediance.

"Loki. I am telling you right now- you put your pants on."

He scowls, using his foot to shove his lanky brown pants further down the bed.

"I don't know..." he mutters. The Allfather lifts a menacing eyebrow.

"What did you say, boy?" he growls. Loki pouts, jutting out a stubborn lip.

"I said I don't want to!" Odin starts forward, preparing to flip Loki over and spank his rear raw.

"Odin!" beckons a faint voice from down the hall. Odin serves his subooridnate son a final glare.

"You're a grown man, Loki. I am done pulling your pants on for you. When I get back here, so help me those pants better be on." He spins and sweeps out of Loki's quarters.

Loki's lip curls, and he tugs apprehensively on the hem of his pants. He examines them, leering at the inferior clothing.

"Unworthy apparel," he mumbles to himself. "I would never grace these with my fine, pale Asgardian legs."

But Odin's heavy gait can be heard drawing nearer, so Loki- with the utmost hesitance- pulls the pants up to his ankles. Odin halts in the doorframe, staring at Loki's exposed knobby knees.

"Why do I see your legs? Why in the Nine Realms haven't you put your pants on?"

"Because I don't care what you say!" he snaps. Odin roars furiously, face turning dangerous.

"Childish lout!" he cries, flying toward Loki. Loki screams, plunging off the side of his bed. He wriggles halfway underneath before Odin grips his ankles.

"NO!" Odin yanks him out and Loki slides out over the tile.

"I am your father and your king!" Odin snarls, spit spattering from his lips to land on the backs of Loki's undressed legs. He brings a stern hand down on Loki's backside. "You will learn to behave as a proper prince!"

"Ow, Father, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Princes put on their own clothes!"

"I'll put my pants on! I'll put my pants on, Father, please!" Odin's hand does not hesitate, power not giving an inch. His hand falls on Loki's underwear-clad white tush, slapping noises resonanting off the walls. Servants in the halls would hear what is happening.

"Let me put them on! Let me! Please!" But his father yowls wordlessly, over his own voice.

Odin lets loose a wild, piercing war cry. His hand flops down on Loki's blushing rump a final time. Loki groans, pressing his flushed face to the wintry tile floor.

"You will put your pants on," Odin growls in his ear, a few spit strings landing on the side of Loki''s neck. He might cringe if the pain on his hidquarters weren't so crippling. "And you will be at the Dining Hall for breakfast in no more than ten minutes." Loki nods feebly, enervated.

Odin stands, gathering himself. "I'm glad we've solved this miscommunication, Loki. Your mother will be proud that you'll be putting your own pants on everyday."

The warning tone in his voice leaves no room for argument.

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