Frostbite

Flutter

Peter held onto the ornate gold railings that spun along the length of the stairway and peered up though the gaps and what he could see of the second floor; walkways stretched from all the corners and middle points to meet at the center and wound down the gilded, spiraling stairs he was on now. Everything gleamed in polished metals and smooth stone encapsulating high vaulted ceilings and spaces that felt like there should always be a hundred more people around because how else were they supposed to fill it?

"Forgive me if you wished to participate in training," Thor apologized. His stance finally began to unwind when they escaped into the library and with each step, Peter cataloged the change from heir-to-the-throne to demi-god-lost-in-the-middle-of-Queens. One step higher and another chip in his armor crumbled at their feet—another step and Peter knew that he'd get nowhere if he ever forgot that people were always more than their fronts.

Not that it was totally a bad thing to have his impressions when he first met someone as long as he was willing to cast them aside when he was proven wrong, and Sister Margaret's hammered that into him pretty early if not pretty immediately. Like when he first met Weasel his boss acted the same with him as he would with everyone else at the bar: paranoid, blunt, kind of suspicious. And in Wade's words, all glued together with the vibe of a twitchy drug dealer who overcharged rich kids for shitty weed.

So, a sort of person who May wouldn't be too sure about him hanging around. And Peter thought so too at the start, but that was until the two of them started talking about old video games and how you main Little Mac in Smash Bros, Mr. Weasel? No wonder Wade makes fun of you all the ti—hey! You can't throw rags at me this is employee abuse—

Peter's eyes trailed down the railing and raked over the grand shelves and the millions of books neatly tucked in each and every row. Weasel was an unshakeable foundation in the business, and it sucked for everyone who didn't believe that to learn the hard way. That one guy, Kairo Green, might've attacked the bar way back when, but that was the ballsy-est move new blood to New York could've taken if he wanted to stake his own claim in the city. The bar had contacts with everyone, everywhere, and because of the emphasis on general neutrality and serving as the home base for bigger names like Deadpool and Domino, it was practically untouchable unless someone wanted to deal with the fallout.

This was also the same place where Ms. Granny was in the middle of teaching him how to make her famous fried catfish, the same place he was going to meet Wade later this week before they'd walked to a midnight screening of Gattaca at this old theater nearby because apparently no self-respecting sci-fi lover wouldn't have seen this movie, and it was the same place that was across from where him and Neena were going to try these new bacon-wrapped chili cheese dogs that promised the best chili this end of the street. Well, he'd have to see about that one, Mx. Hot Dog Connoisseur.

It was also the same place he met Mom for the first time.

But... yeah. Don't judge a book by the reviews on a blog. A lot of people don't know what the hell they were talking about.

"It sounds fun, but it was probably for the best." Peter glanced around and strained his ears for a moment before he leaned forward and pitched his voice quieter. "Uh, you know how Mom's not really from around here?"

Thor bobbed his head. "Of course."

Peter continued to stare at him. Thor paused on the third to last step to the second floor and stared back for a handful of breaths before he visibly reached his own understanding.

"Oh." His head tilted consideringly, strands of blond hair loosening from their braids. "Well. It is not something unexpected to be passed down to you. Is... Do you hold concern for your ability to change natures?"