hiya!! happy new year! if you’re taking prompts, could I get a role reversal of sorts for jupeter with juno topping/taking the lead on things? have a great day!!!
I’ve had this fic half-finished and sitting in my drafts folder for a long time, because I didn’t have the headspace or the energy to finish it.
I appreciate your patience.
---
Peter smooths the lines in his suit and lifts a martini glass in one gloved hand, flashing a smile that he doesn’t mean.
At the “family meeting”, he had leaped at the opportunity to join Vespa on a heist. She was one of his childhood heroes, after all– how many evenings did he spend with one of Mag’s practice knives in hand, pretending to be the legendary assassin? So of course he was eager to show her that he is a worthy ally.
Instead he is here: in this awful, seedy establishment beside a man with far too much ego and far too little good taste, while Vespa is in another building entirely.
He tells himself that it isn’t entirely a waste of his abilities. He’s already slipped the cypher key out of Augustus Aritza’s pocket without him noticing, after all, and there is value in keeping him distracted so that his office can remain empty. Being a part of a team sometimes requires taking on the least glamorous of roles in a heist.
It still rankles.
But he is a master, even if he’s being treated like a novice, and he will demonstrate to Vespa and Buddy and all of them that he is capable of doing any job they put before him, even if that means giggling at every banal attempt at wit that drips out of Aritza’s mouth.
He even manages to keep in character when Juno Steel steps through the front door.
What is he thinking, coming here? He’s supposed to be back on the Carte Blanche, making the evening’s dinner. Is he really so desperate for action that he’ll put the job at risk? At the very least, he could have had the courtesy to call ahead, but the hidden comms in Peter’s ear cuff has been utterly silent.
…As a matter of fact, he hasn’t heard so much as a wry comment over the comms in at least an hour. It hadn’t bothered him until this moment– after all, he’s used to working alone.
He swallows his apprehension and the last of his martini. He’s decided to trust Juno. He won’t go back on that now.
Juno appears at his elbow– his left elbow, to be precise. He’s taken care to keep Peter in his periphery and leave Aritza on his blind side.
“You look like you could use a refill,” Juno says, rakishly lifting the glass out of Peter’s hand without letting their fingers touch.
Across the table, Aritza stiffens. “Do you mind?”
“Nope.” Juno doesn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze remains fixed on Peter, but it isn’t stationary. His eye sweeps down to Peter’s heels and back up again, settling on Peter’s face. “What do you say, gorgeous? What are you having?”
His stare is needle-sharp, and Peter is pinned in place, his breath caught in his throat. Juno’s confidence is always a sight to behold, but it is another thing entirely to have the intensity of that confidence turned on him.
“Black and gold,” Peter manages to say. Their ill-fated heist in Jupiter’s orbit was a few weeks ago, but he still can’t quite rid himself of the memory of Juno in that gown.
Juno signals the bartender. “Black and gold for the gentleman, Rangian green for me.”
Peter’s expression doesn’t change, but his pulse quickens. Vespa sent Juno?
The person behind the bar blinks. “I’ve never heard of that last one.”
“How about a Green Ruby, then? Served hot.” He flashes a smile that leaves Peter stunned. “What can I say? It’s my favorite color.”
“Nobody cares,” Aritza snaps. “Get lost.”
“Yeah, wasn’t talking to you. What do you say, barkeep?”
The bartender glances nervously at Aritza and back. “I… don’t know that one, either.”
Juno snorts. “Seriously? What kinda place is this?”
Aritza leans in with a tightlipped smile. “Maybe you’ll prefer the menu at another establishment.”
“Great idea.” Juno claps him on the back too hard to be friendly, then leans in close to Peter. “How about you and I get out of this dump and find a place that serves real drinks? I know a guy that makes a mean Jovian tea.”
“Well,” Peter says with a flutter in his voice that isn’t entirely artificial. “With an offer like that, how can I refuse?”
He takes Juno’s hand, pointedly ignoring Aritza’s muttered “Unbelievable!”. While Juno escorts him to the door, Peter’s gaze sweeps every reflective surface in front of him. Behind them, Aritza sputters furiously at anyone who will listen, and then jumps to his feet and starts after them.
“He’s coming,” Peter whispers under his breath as Juno pulls open the door. “Shall we run?”
The door opens into an alley with only one point of easy exit-- oh, there are several more, to be sure, but none that can effectively hide two bodies within three seconds. And perhaps worst, their getaway vehicle is nowhere in sight.
“Big guy’s circling the block,” Juno mutters. “There’s eyes on him.” And now there is an eye on Peter, dark and sincere as only Juno can be. He has a plan, even if he doesn’t have time to explain it in detail.
Peter gives the smallest nod. I’ll follow your lead, love.
And then he’s flat against the alley wall, so close that the air is crushed from Peter’s lungs and into Juno’s waiting mouth. A rough hand keeps him close even as it cushions Peter’s skull against the unforgiving brick. He only manages a startled gasp before the door opens behind him, and then Aritza steps through.
Peter sees the moment unfold from two angles simultaneously, viewed with interest by two separate roles.
The thief in him recognizes the need for escape. Aritza is a fool, but he’s at least partially aware that his power makes him a target. If he catches them fleeing at a run, he’ll know he’s been had, and he’ll sound the alarm. If Vespa hasn’t yet made her escape, that might prove deadly-- though whether to the assassin or whoever finds her is as yet undecided. Not that it matters to Juno.
Aritza might still react violently, of course-- but that’s why Juno left the door on his good side, and why he’s got his free hand on his blaster, conveniently blocked from view by Peter’s leg.
But that’s only the thief in him. The other part-- the role, or the romantic-- is happy to feel the heat of the charging blaster so near his thigh. It’s a dangerous place to put a dangerous toy, but he trusts his detective not to hurt him. And if the thief in him feels that Aritza needs some more convincing about this display, well, the other is happy to fumble at Juno’s belt.
He moans-- loud enough to be heard from the door, but not so loud as to drown out Aritza’s disgusted grunt and the swing of unoiled hinges.
Juno keeps the act going for a few moments more, kissing him like he’s forgotten how to breathe, and Peter is blissfully, helplessly pinned beneath him--
And then all too quickly the Ruby 7′s familiar engine joins the sounds of the alley, and Juno pulls away.
“Looks like our ride’s here,” he rasps, but he doesn’t look at their getaway car.
“We’ll finish this later,” Peter whispers to him. “I believe you owe me a drink.”
