Midgardian Delicacies
Tony is throwing a Halloween party, and EVERYONE is invited. Written for Halloween 2012.
"Happy All Hallow's Eve to you, Brother!" Thor says as he enters Stark's shared living room - then immediately winces. That came out more loudly than he intended. He is still a little fuzzy on the specifics of this particular holiday, but Thor sees that as no reason to miss the celebration - after all, they seem to be so few and far between here on Midgard.
What Thor does know about this All Hallow's Eve (though Stark has told him thrice now to 'just call it Halloween like the rest of us, Jesus!' Thor finds its official name more befitting a son of Asgard) is that one receives confectionaries for no other reason than donning some unusual garb. He has been told of apples coated in caramel (they of course hold nothing on Idunn's apples, but he supposes caramel is its own shade of gold, and delightfully gooey besides) and tiny bars of chocolate that these Midgardians call 'fun-size' (he fails to see what is 'fun' about food being smaller than usual, but does not question it, since perhaps the fun comes in receiving them for free).
That alone seems a reason for celebration, and it has been so long since he had a good feast.
Loki, for his part, flinches and pulls a face from behind the magazine he is reading (Popular Science, the cover reads - there is no doubt he stole it from the Man of Iron). Likely he heard Thor coming before he even entered the room - Loki has long said that Thor sounds something like a "bull in a china shop," whatever that means - but that has never stopped his brother from appearing put-upon before.
Loki's legs are draped over the arm of a large (even by Asgard's standards) and overly stuffed chair as he gives Thor a look that says 'What exactly is happy about it?' while he pointedly continues reading. Had Thor not known Loki for as long as he has, he may have been offended, but as it is, he plows on, not oblivious, but pretending to be so. "Loki - hale, Brother! It is All Hallow's Eve - and friend Stark had informed me that if we are to receive Midgardian goodies tonight, we must be attired appropriately!"
His brother is currently wearing a pair of grey leggings under a deep plum-colored tunic, and as far as Thor is concerned, that is not much of a costume at all (though Loki does look quite dashing in the color, which Thor would tell him if he thought that would not further convince Loki to refuse costuming himself). "Appropriately attired?" Loki lifts an eyebrow delicately and his mouth twists downward, as if he has just eaten something particularly distasteful. "You do realize you appear to be wearing garb stolen off of some poor jungle man?" (Thor loves when Loki's voice becomes haughty like this, and he struggles to keep the affectionate smile from his face. Loki would only gloat.)
"I do hope you didn't harm him when you stole his clothing, Thor." With that, Loki's eyes flit back down to the magazine in his hands. He licks a finger as he prepares to turn the page, and oh, that is just cruel. His brother rarely does anything - even something that minuscule - without a purpose, usually that of driving Thor mad.
If that is his purpose, he is succeeding.
"Loki," Thor pleads, trying to keep his eye on the prize - Midgardian delicacies and gooey caramel and bars of fun - but Loki makes it difficult when he shifts so that the curve of his ass is plainly and invitingly visible through the tight fabric of his leggings. Thor's mouth is suddenly dry as he continues. "It is only for one night! Everyone there will look just as silly, Stark has assured me of this! And he said he has never seen a better Tarzan!" (Thor had not known who that was until a week ago, when the Man of Iron showed him the Disney movie. He had found the film, especially the parts with Tarzan and his adopted gorilla mother, quite pleasing.)
"Oh, Stark has assured you?" Loki answers, his voice incredulous. His eyebrows are almost lost into his hairline. "Well then, by all means! Why don't you dress me up as one of those 'reindeer' he is so fond of comparing me to? You know I had a cold last week - my nose is even still a little red, I think!" Loki snaps the magazine shut and rolls onto his side in the chair, and if the curve of his ass was inviting before, it is all but beckoning now.
Thor lets out a low growl, half of frustration, half of something else. Even redeemed, his brother is incorrigible.
From behind, Thor could almost mistake Loki for a woman - his hair has grown longer and falls past his shoulders, sleek and manageable now that the Lady Pepper has introduced him to something she calls 'Pantene,' and the leggings only accentuate the pleasant curves of his body.
It is then that Thor is struck with an idea. Before he can think better of it, can worry about the damage that Loki's wrath may bring to Stark's tower, he moves to the chair and, in one swift movement, picks up Loki around the middle and slings his brother over his shoulder. Loki's reaction is immediate. "Thor, you great oaf!" he shrieks (Loki would not appreciate the description, but that is what he is doing), pounding ineffectually at Thor's back. "Put me down this instant. I was reading that!"
Of course Thor knows that if Loki really wanted to free himself from Thor's grasp, he has ways of doing so - ways that would undoubtedly be painful to Thor's person, despite his own impressive strength - so he keeps his hold steady and places a sloppy kiss to the expanse of skin that Loki's flailing has left open between his tunic and leggings.
On his way out of the living room, Thor passes the Lady Natasha, who takes one look at Loki's struggling, opens her mouth as if to say something, and instead throws herself onto the sofa to begin flipping through channels. "Yeah, not touching that one," she mutters.
Loki looks thoroughly wounded that their teammate has offered him no help. "Thor?" he whines, kicking his legs for effect. "Thor, you won't get away with this! Just what do you think you're doing?"
"Why, Loki," Thor says, his laugh a low rumble in his chest that he is sure his brother can feel, as he runs his hands possessively down Loki's sides, "You will be Jane, of course."
End.