Sphallolalia: Flirtatious talk that leads nowhere.
"I've told you, time and time again, Thor," Loki says, swatting away Thor's questing fingers that have yet again managed to stray to Loki's side of the bed, "it is far too hot for these sorts of activities."
Asgard is going through a heat spell at the moment, and Loki has taken to cuddling up with a block of ice shipped in from Jotunheimr, much to Thor's consternation. What was worse was that Loki also didn't want to do anything physical, which encompassed quite a few of Thor's favourite activities.
"It might help you to talk pretty to me," Loki says, smirking at the grimace that rolls over Thor's face. Thor, for all his might and prowess on the fields of battle, has the uncanny ability to bungle a sentence of more than four or five words when put on the spot, without fail.
"Fairest," Thor begins, and Loki tries to ignore the puppy-ish whine that has crept into his voice. "I would wish to have you."
Loki snorts and turns back to his magazine. "I believe you'll have to try much harder than that, love."
"Cupcake?" Thor tries, beseeching, and Loki snorts.
"An overrated pet name," he says. "Although I would not mind a lemon cupcake right about now, but alas, I have already brushed my teeth."
"I could get you cupcakes," Thor offers. "And then we might make love."
"Perhaps," Loki agrees noncommittally, and no sooner has the word left his lips than Thor jumps out of the bed and hurries off to the Bifrost, hopping into his pants along the way.
Thor comes back from Midgard laden down with several pink boxes of cupcakes, and Loki demolishes them with glee. Upon Thor reaching out for him again, Loki tells him to go get him a frappuccino, and then he will reconsider.
As Thor hurries off to the Bifrost again, Loki licks a smear of frosting off his finger and grins as he rolls around in the cold sheets.