Nedovtipa: Someone who cannot take a hint. I'm sorry, I'm drunk at the moment so this chapter probably isn't very good, is it?
"Thor, do you mind?" Loki asks him, as he struts irritably about the bedchambers, frowning at his blonde-haired husband. "I'm in the middle of doing something." To any naked eye, and to any practiced eye, he was doing absolutely nothing of great importance and was instead determined to pace a track in the middle of their bedroom carpet.
"We are going to have a new babe," Thor says, eyeing Loki fervently. "That is why you have been spewing fire at random turns."
Loki scoffs, rolls his eyes. The pregnancy test and all of Frigga's spells had shown that this was indeed the case, but Loki was not about to let Thor have the satisfaction of that knowledge.
"Perhaps I have been spewing fire because I have recently been eating quite spicy foods." This was actually quite true, as Loki had almost depleted the world's entire supply of habanero peppers.
"I am busy."
"I currently wish to be alone."
"I have no use for you here, go entertain Modi or something."
Throughout all of this, Thor stalwartly refuses to budge and tells Loki that he, for one, would welcome a dragon spawn into the family.
Loki finally loses his temper, breathes a veritable inferno in Thor's general direction, and tells him firmly to get out.
Thor complies.