Pole Dance
"Thor's wedding is next week," Natasha remarked.
"Yes, what of it?" Loki's tone was cool.
"Aren't you going to take him out for a bachelor party or something? Show him a good time? On earth the guys usually take their buddies out, get them loaded, go leer at pole dancers."
"Pole dancers!" Loki was astonished. "Why in Hel would I want to do that? I was forced to sit through such dances when I was young, and I never want to repeat the experience."
"You don't?" Natasha frowned. "Wow, they must have been pretty lame."
"Pole dancing is always 'lame', as you say. A group of youngsters…"
"Youngsters!" She was shocked. "How young are we talking here? In Midgard time, I mean."
"Hm." He considered. "Eleven or twelve, maybe."
"Loki, that's disgusting! That's like pedophilia!"
"No, it is not."
"Yes, it is! How can you say such a thing?" Natasha was seriously worried. Had she made a huge mistake marrying someone who could think that?
"But it is so boring. The girls hold ribbons and twirl around each other, always the same, and the music is dire." Loki made a sound of disgust.
"Wait a minute." Natasha's face cleared. "I think you and I are talking about very different kinds of dancing."
"Well, what are you talking about?"
She winked at him. "Tell you what. Set up a secure pole from floor to ceiling in our bedroom and I'll show you."
Later, as Loki watched her fly around the pole upside-down in a tight, silver costume revealing a lot of skin, he began to understand. "This is what you meant, darling?" he purred. "I like it."
Natasha landed with lithe, twisting cartwheel and strolled to the bed. He lay among the pillows, eyes never leaving hers, a lusty grin spreading his lips. "Yes, but Thor isn't going to watch," she insisted. "This is a private performance."
Loki sucked in his breath. "Yes. By the Norns, it is."