@icyxmischief , I’m going with him being in the tower, if that okay to assume from threads you have with Lexi.
——//🕷\——
Peter was lying on his back on the couch, just staring at the screen of his phone.
Ever since Mr Stark had started to allow him to come visit the tower, he found himself there more often then not. This saved him from hanging around the empty apartment while May was working and he got to hang out with The Tony Stark!
It wasn’t until a few months ago that peter had felt comfortable with coming into the tower even when Tony was busy and not there, despite the fact the man kept telling him he could.
Today was such a day, he was alone, well there was FRIDAY and JARVIS, but other then them, he was alone in the Stark Penthouse, just lazily scrolling through Instagram.
Suddenly he stilled, hearing the elevator stop at the floor he was on and the doors open. He was rather glad that the back of the couch was facing the doors, because ten who ever it was wouldn’t see him, and Mr Stark wasn’t due back for 2 hours or more.
He peered over the back and then ducked back down, biting his lip… the AIs hadn’t sounded the alarm, so did that mean the stranger was allowed to be on this floor? And why did he seem familiar?
@spiidcrling @starkastichotmess
Ding! sings the elevator, and JARVIS announces the penthouse level.
That high pitched sound will never get less annoying.
And oh, poor Peter.
Loki trained for advanced recon scenarios when he was younger than Peter.
It’s therefore pitiably easy for him to recognize even a stealthy target in a familiar environment.
He’s been dating Tony Stark for many months now; it’s come to define, in a bewildering and paradoxical way, both the “slow burn” and the “impulsive and immediate chemistry” scenario: the former because of their fraught history, the latter because of who they are and what they find alluring. As a result, Loki’s long panther-like strides have been heard frequently in the Stark Tower penthouse.
And Loki, observant to a fault, and more than healthily paranoid, has noticed the most microscopic disruptions in what is increasingly becoming his fiercely guarded territory.
A single throw pillow has fallen to the floor.
The God of Mischief’s glinting jade eyes narrow.
He runs, soundless, from the elevator door, to the couch, over which he vaults, flips, and lands, turns and hunkers green-glowing dagger drawn, at Peter’s throat.
The savage glare on his face dissipates.
“Oh,” he observes, with a single blink. “You are but a child.”
Peter’s favorite thing to hear, to be sure.
Loki backs off of him and sinks into a seat on the opposite side of the couch. He pockets his blades, and quells his magic.
“I believe we were both expecting an empty house, Mister … . ?”
Master, more like. This whelp can’t even be eighteen.
One moment Peter was trying to hold his breath, the next his spider senses were going off as he’s staring, wide eyed, at the dagger that was pointed at him.
A high pitched ‘EEEP’ escaped his lips as he pushed himself further into the couch cushions.
“P-Peter... Peter Parker, s-Sir... I er, I’m m-mr Starks personal intern...” he swallowed as he collects himself, sitting up himself fidgeting with the sleeves of his grey cardigan.
Damn the spider powers making his ADHD worse.
“And yeah... I didn’t expect anyone here. JARVIS said that the tower was empty and Tony said I could come when ever I like... so I came cause I got bored sitting in an empty apartment...”
“And... I’m not a child... I’m 16.”
