Tony snapped his fingers once more, the grease on his fingers causing them to slide together almost painfully. The high-pitched click was a simple gesture to JARVIS to change the song once again. He was getting bored of these slow, cheesy ballads. He'd never been one for love songs. He'd also never been one for marriage, but look where he was now. His bride-to-be was sitting cross-legged on the floor beneath him, a laptop on his knees. He didn't quite touch it when he wasn't carefully typing, his normally quick mind translating Nordic into English.

Loki was slowly getting used to the technologies on Earth, and to congratulate him for his hard work on his assimilation, he'd bought the computer, just a mere week before his proposal. Both decisions had been impulsive. It was surprising how he'd put more thought into the electronic device than his marriage offer. It had been so awkward, with drunken stuttering (for God's sake, he hadn't even had a ring!) and him nearly collapsing in the elevator on the way to the penthouse. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he'd assumed that Loki would panic and teleport out of the room and Tony would never see him again. Instead Loki silently helped him to the couch, removed his shoes, and sat next to him.

"Do you mean it?" he'd asked. "Marriage is nothing like what we have now. It could change everything between us. Are you not scared of that?"

Well, shit, of course he was. But he didn't want to be able to lose Loki so quickly, so easily with just the wrong word. And he said so. Or, he thought he did. Whatever drivel he'd managed to spew before the sudden nausea had both of them running to the bathroom, it had been enough for Loki. Tony had bought him whatever ring he wanted—not exactly surprised at his choice of a simple silver band with small emeralds embedded into the metal—and here they were, trying to decide on the song for their first dance. Listening to the heart-wrenching wailings was making him sleepy.

"Anthony?" The voice that came from the level of his knees was quiet, almost embarrassed. He lowered his gaze to look down at Loki, whose eyes were narrowed at his computer screen, the bright white lights making him look even paler. "What kind of dance are we going to do?"

"I dunno." he admitted, setting his tools down and wiping his hands on an already hopelessly stained, ragged piece of terry cloth. "Maybe a waltz, or something kind of 'awkward middle school dance'-like."

"I see…" Loki rubbed his mouth, as if he was conflicted about something.

"You okay?"

"Well, um." He touched his finger carefully to the touchpad and moved it, clicking on something before he continued. "The thing is, Anthony…I don't really know how to dance."

He felt his eyebrows shoot up judgmentally before he could regain control of his facial muscles. He coughed into his fist to hide the chuckling that bubbled up into his chest, but Loki saw right through it. He glared at Tony from his perch on the floor, waiting for a more appropriate response to his reluctant admittance. Tony cleared his throat and folded his hands together.

"Really?" he asked, sounding both intrigued and amused. Loki rolled his eyes, though his cheeks began to turn a rosy color.

"I was a Prince, Anthony; I know several Asgardian jigs. But these dances you have, they make no sense. I mean…" He just shook his head and shrugged. "Perhaps I should not have said anything." he added when Tony didn't speak.

"No! No, this is actually a good thing to know." he said quickly. "Here, stand up."

"Why?" Loki asked warily, but he slid his computer onto the floor and allowed Tony to pull him to his feet. Some cheesy song was playing, not exactly slow-paced but not too quick. He actually kind of, sort of was able to tolerate it.

"I'll teach you. C'mon, don't look at me like that. You'd be surprised at how many business deals have been settled on the dance floor. With women, mind you."

Loki raised a slim eyebrow. "And how many in bed?"

"Don't ask ridiculous questions. Here, put your hand on my shoulder."

"I'm taller, shouldn't I lead?"

"You don't know how to dance yet, shut up."

Loki rolled his eyes, looking somewhat happier as he placed his hand where Tony gestured. He reached up and fixed it, and then held out his hand, the other placed snugly around the God's waist. He looked down at it accusingly, but said nothing. Probably wondering if he'd left any oil on his hands that would perpetually ruin his shirt.

"Now follow my feet. If I move back, you move forward. Like this." He stepped back, and Loki stepped forward. Tony knew he'd miscalculate the first step, that'd he'd land half his foot on his own. But that didn't change the fact that it hurt, or that Loki immediately looked absolutely embarrassed that he did it in the first place. He stood on one leg, his foot hovering like he was scared to touch it to the ground. Tony calmly managed to convince him to put his foot back on the floor, grunting in pain but otherwise putting on a brave face for him.

"I knew it was going to happen, don't worry about it. Just watch your feet until you feel comfortable with it."

Their hands went back into place, and Tony had JARVIS play the song on repeat. Trying to match several different rhythms at once would be too challenging for him. They danced for seven play-throughs of what JARVIS told him was a Whitney Houston song before Loki could dance looking at him, beaming and pleased as punch with himself, and little while longer than that, only because Tony didn't want to let go of him so quickly.