Kontal-kontil: The swinging of long earrings or the swishing of a dress as one walks.
"You will wear a dress to the Lady Natasha's wedding?" Thor asks, looking up at Loki, who is standing in the middle of a circle of puddled silks and satins, staring at himself and turning around to look at himself from all angles. He is currently draped in a yellow number that, frankly, makes him look jaundiced, but Thor keeps his thoughts to himself. Loki, unfortunately, is rather adept at reading minds and inferring unspoken thoughts, and he frowns at himself in the mirror and slips out of the yellow dress as well.
"It is not very nice, to tell somebody they look jaundiced," he says, coming over and crawling into the bed, his bare skin smooth against Thor's as he pouts. "I most certainly hope you did not tell the Lady Jane that when you went with her to that Midgardian function."
Thor rolls his eyes. "I did not get as far as to compliment her outfit," he says, wrapping an arm agreeably around Loki. "I complimented her on her weight, as you suggested, and I suppose I said the wrong thing."
Loki laughs. "What did you say to her, exactly?" Even though he knows full well what Thor said, he wishes to hear it again. It is a source of endless amusement.
"I believe I said she looked malnourished," Thor mutters, sighing. Loki snorts, laughing even more as he thinks of what Jane must have looked like.
"Yes, well, that may not have been the best choice of words," Loki says, grinning as he rolls back out of bed and pads back over to the armoire. "What colour do you think I should wear?"
"What about red?" Thor asks, rolling onto his stomach to look over at Loki. "It would compliment your skin very well."
"You only say that because it will compliment you," Loki points out with a little smile, but he obligingly pulls out a red dress, steps into it, and wraps it up over himself like a present. The dress sags around his chest with the lack of flesh, and he frowns at himself before flicking his wrist upwards. Thor watches with amusement - and just the slightest tinge of arousal - as Loki grows breasts and they fill out the fabric.
"Like this?" Loki asks, turning to walk back towards Thor, and Thor admires the tiny waist, the way Loki's hips sway enticingly as he walks. Loki climbs onto the bed again, and Thor places his hand on Loki's waist, admiring the smooth silk underneath his fingers.
"I love it on you, but I think it might be better off," Thor admits, and Loki laughs, and lets Thor reach around to undo the clasp at the back.