Castiel faltered, and forgot himself, turning toward Loki, curiously. He seemed nervous? He didn't feel remotely nervous--there was no part of this that frightened him. And yet he was aware that something - something was preventing this from clicking for the other man. He was uncomfortable, perhaps, or doubtful of Castiel's ability to perform some part of this suitably.
Which meant that he needed to do better. He needed to...to what? Castiel reached into his own mind, urgently, but all he could find there were Dean's sex dreams, and women dancing up against poles. Maybe he should be dancing.
But Loki was wrong; he wasn't unarmed, and there was a skewer of wood in his inside coat pocket with the god's name on it. Castiel was comfortable that he'd have time to fetch it when the god showed himself.
"Certainly not," he answered. "I merely... You asked me to strip, you weren't explicit as to how, so I assumed that you craved efficiency." He remembered himself, and dipped his eyes down to stare at the other man's feet instead. "However if you wish me to dance, I'm afraid I would have to disappoint you."
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Which meant that he needed to do better. He needed to...to what? Castiel reached into his own mind, urgently, but all he could find there were Dean's sex dreams, and women dancing up against poles. Maybe he should be dancing.
But Loki was wrong; he wasn't unarmed, and there was a skewer of wood in his inside coat pocket with the god's name on it. Castiel was comfortable that he'd have time to fetch it when the god showed himself.
"Certainly not," he answered. "I merely... You asked me to strip, you weren't explicit as to how, so I assumed that you craved efficiency." He remembered himself, and dipped his eyes down to stare at the other man's feet instead. "However if you wish me to dance, I'm afraid I would have to disappoint you."