Going Through Changes -> Peter Parker

1.

The lobby stood completely empty and silent, which was unusual for a Monday afternoon. Monday mornings usually meant business, and business meant the spacious room had always been crowded with fans and paparazzi trying to snap a good picture of the two wealthy owners or any of the avengers passing by.   But when the two inventors sold the building, they agreed that a new home was necessary for all of them after what occurred in Germany just a few months earlier. They broke with the tower-like Captain America broke with the Avengers. To deep was the gashing wound torn by Ultron and the heroes' personal civil war, and for those left of the team to heal, a new environment was urgently needed. So the Starks built a new home for them. A better one. More significant, brighter, more futuristic, free of an unpleasant past, and filled with hopes and opportunities. Although it hurt to move and leave so many memories behind, as soon as the new headquarter was ready, the inventory was moved or sold to other companies, glad to get their hands on such advanced technology, supervised by Happy Hogan and Benjamin Stark himself.

Meanwhile, only a few items were left, packed into countless boxes spread around the tower, or too complicated to transport at the moment and to wait for a solution. It was a devastating sight, the previously important tower and symbol for the earth's mightiest heroes, dark and abandoned, stripped of its life and past glory. The light of the glorious avenger initiative had finally burned out. Soon,  the occupants had to say their last goodbye to the headquarter, which sheltered them for almost a decade. But until then, a spark of life, the last hurrah, how some might call it, was left in the long hallways and almost empty rooms.

Speaking of which, a boy in his late teens was wandering through the big lobby, heading towards the elevator, his bare feet padding against the cold marble floor with every step, leaving muddy footprints behind. His long finger pressed the button to call the elevator while the spare hand found its way into the dark fluffy hair, scratching the back of his head, which would be sure as hell bruised by tomorrow. His exhaustion was evident by the look in the boy's eyes, making their usual brightness dull and their color darker than they usually were. With a soft "Bling," the enormous golden doors swung open, inviting him into its familiar cage-like cube. He stepped in, chose his floor, then the doors closed. As always, the elevator moved smoothly, only a soft humming bird-like vibration giving away it was moving at all. The boy was patiently waiting for the cube to reach its destination, leaning his head back onto the cold mirror of the wall for a brief moment of relaxation, when the elevator stopped midway, swinging the doors open again. An older woman came in, one of the many accountants busing themselves with the needed paperwork for the move, her eyes going wide in shock while taking in his completely naked appearance.

Standing side by side, he could feel her gaze wandering down his athletic form until it settled below his waistline, bringing a smug grin to his full lips. It was practically an indentation for him to comment. "Like what you see?" he asked, a dark brow raised teasingly. She gasped, insulted by his bluntness, just like he had intended. "No worries, I'm not all dressed up like that for your liking.", he continued, more annoyed than amused. Before she could answer in any way, the doors opened again. "My floor. Good afternoon.", the young stated, exiting the elevator to move on. He knew his way too well, roamed the hallways like they were his own, passing by amused or shocked workers who couldn't help but stare after the strange boy. He knocked on the familiar glass door, grinning like the maniac he was, making a bearded man in his mid-30s look up from his packing. Benjamin Stark, the youngest of the two billionaire brothers, couldn't be shocked as easily. He was used to the teenage boy being extraordinary eccentric with literally no shame in anything. In some ways, he was reminded of Tony when the boy pulled a stunt like that. His actions mainly were protests against the terms of his inclusion in any avenger missions, and he had to admit that the teenager was very good at that. After all, he had learned from the best. Not that he would ever tell him. So Benjamin rolled his eyes at the boy's nakedness, already having an idea of what had happened to him. With a quick word to the voice assistant of a glass-like tablet, the boy was lead-in. 

"Good afternoon, my dearest Benjamin." he greeted cheeky, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "I see, wearing your best suit again to grace my lab," Benjamin stated, ignoring the mocking tone of the younger as he always did. Then he pointed towards a black backpack on one of the shiny metal tables, which were formally cluttered with all kinds of technological devices. "Get dressed. Happy has something to do for you." Now the boy was rolling his sometimes green, sometimes blue eyes while walking over and opening the bag. "I'm a trained agent whose only tasks are stupid errands for the driver.", he mumbled grumpily. "Maybe you shouldn't have stolen the mark 46. ", the billionaire retorted unasked. The younger just sent him a glare as he jumped into a pair of dark-washed skinny jeans. Unlike the "adults" of the team, the boy wasn't aware of any guilt regardless of how hard they tried to talk it into him. He had simply done what had been necessary for the situation, and anyone telling him otherwise was simply just fooling themselves because, at the end of the day,  they would have done it exactly the same way. Demonstratively, the teenager took a seat on the only office chair left in the lab, crossing his legs in progress. He was now busing himself with zipping up the dark hoody the other man had provided. "What exactly does he want?", he then sighed, eyeing Benjamin unenthusiastically. But before Stark could answer his question, Happy Hogan himself entered the room with laud steps, his presence demanding immediate, undivided attention. The teenager raised his eyebrow at that, waiting for the gigantic man to spill out his newest errant finally, possibly any other normal employee, could fulfill with ease and much more motivation than the boy provided. "You, Oasis boy!" he called out, pointing one chubby finger accusingly at the young agent who rolled his eyes. Happy never called him his actual name. It was always just this stupid nickname. So the boy had introduced to return the favor. "What do you want, grumpy?" the boy snarled with a dangerous glimmer in his pretty eyes. Happy ignored his tone, having too much work to do with everything that happened even to consider letting the kid get to his nerves with his little spikes. So he just got straight to the point instead: "Tell the spider-boy to stop texting. I'm busy and not interested in any more churro stories."

..