Ternion (FrostIronStrange)

Part 4

Loki knocked on the door of Stark's bedroom, glancing up and down the corridor as he waited.

'Loki? Everything alright?' Stark's head poked out, eyebrow raised in question. The mortal looked well again, the bags under his eyes gone, his skin flushed with warmth and vigour instead of his earlier sickly pallor.

'I wished to speak to you about the feast you have planned.'

Stark nodded, not moving.

'May I come in?'

Hesitating, Stark nodded, pulling away and opening the door wider.

Ah, Loki understood his reluctance. He was clad only in his sleep pants, chest bare, the device over his heart glowing like a jewel. Loki let his gaze roam as Stark searched for a tunic, lifting the furs on his bed to look, despite there being ample amounts of clothing strewn across the floor.

'You do not have to dress on my account. The view is rather...delectable.'

Stark snorted, turning to give Loki an unobstructed view of his chest rather than the broadness of his back. His gaze went to the tempting curve of his spine, the barest hint of the swell of buttocks. Loki made his gaze obvious as it roamed over the defined muscles of his stomach, not flinching away from the mess of scars over the mortal's sternum.

'You know Asgardians value bravery, battle. Your scars prove you to be a mighty warrior,' Loki told him.

'The only thing they prove was how much of an idiot I was. Reminders of past mistakes,' Stark corrected him, pulling on a shirt. 'Besides, you don't value those ideals.'

Clever thing.

'No, but I do value strength. Determination. The will to survive.'

'What did you want to talk about?' Stark changed the topic smoothly, indicating Loki should sit at the chair nearest the fireplace while he perched on the edge of the bed.

'Thor has spoken at length to me about the feast you are holding in my honour, the basic layout.'

'Not really a feast, more of a quiet party, a gathering. He told you to behave?' Stark asked with a smile.

'Threatened more like,' Loki spat.

'What do you need my help with?'

'As you know, Asgardian and Midgardian traditions are very different. I wish to learn how to dance in a way appropriate for this setting.'

Stark stared at him for long minutes, head tilting to the side in disbelief.

Loki was surprised that he found the action adorable. It wasn't a word he attributed to many beings, not having affection for anything past his mother and now Thor. However, it was the right word to use in this circumstance and for other incidences, such as watching Stark interact with the spider child.

No.

It wasn't his goal to find Stark adorable.

'You're asking me to teach you to dance?' Stark asked, eventually. 'What about Thor?'

'Can you imagine that lumbering oaf dancing? Even back on Asgard, the traditional dances of the court wasn't something he excelled at. Despite our mother's teaching.' There was a bittersweet pang as he remembered, Loki still unable to think of her without feeling pain.

'FRIDAY, play something suitable please,' Stark asked as he got to his feet. He waited, hand outstretched.

Smiling, Loki took it, allowing Stark to position him, one of his hands clasped and held out to the side, the other wrapped around the middle of Stark's back.