shadowglitter | PSL || peter/odin

[ The second Peter's through the door to his tower-turned-apartment, Odin's on him like a fucking rash, squeezing him in a hug tight enough to make something crack - which, this time, at least, just turns out to be Odin's shoulder, which he rubs with a loud whine after he lets go. The pain is forgotten, gone with so much of that fucking nightmare of a December, by the time Peter's stripping all his shit and bouncing onto the countertop, and Odin's there by his side, leaning on the surface and taking a slice of pizza for himself. ]

I know! It's bullshit? And I think that even though I spent, like, all of my money, it's probably super illegal for me to actually live here. But. I'm rich and I'm an imPort and I think it's my constitutional right as a Hero for America to get literally everything I want, all the time, always, until my end of days, forever and ever and ever times a million. Definitely remember signing something like that when I was ported in. Probably.

[ He bites into the pizza, chewing loudly and complaining about the toppings, just to be an irritating piece of shit. Every so often, in moments like this one, when the sun is warm and the afternoon is quiet and everything is just good, Odin is kind of ludicrously fucking stunned by how relatively unscathed the two of them are after the way this year started. He watches Peter as he eats, wondering how, for the thousandth time, some scrawny little grey-haired squirrel saved him from so fucking much just by being there. ]

D'you think Alex and Magnus ever talk about us when we're not around? 'Cause I think they do, but I don't know what they'd say. ... Or, uh-- well, that's not true. They would definitely compliment me and only ever insult you, but. That's as far as I've thought.

[Peter laughs, kicking his feet out in front of him as he sits on the counter. It doesn't take long for him to try and kick out at Odin with sock covered toes. He polishes off the crust in his hand and pauses before going for a second slice.]

They probably do. [He narrows his eyes a bit, flicking them away to the Faygo which he cracks open with a sssst.] But like old people talk about their grandkids. Either as annoying or missed, maybe? Kinda like how we talk about them but... probably with more compassion.

Definitely would be calling you an idiot at least once a day, though. [He drinks straight from the 2L.]

[ Odin is a fucking magic samurai with killer reflexes honed through a lifetime of war, yet still that kick hits him square in the thigh. He yelps, laughs and gently shoves Peter in one fluid motion, then hops up on the countertop to sit close to him, elbows brushing. He doesn't notice, until he starts hitting at Peter's arm to get him to move. ]

Yeah... I mean, I've overheard strangers calling me an idiot, so. It would be bizarre if people who had the proof of knowing me to backup their claims didn't do the same.

[ He shrugs. Briefly considers shouting "haha, boobs!" or something to make Peter choke while he's drinking, but ultimately decides not to. He takes the 2L when Peter's done with it and knocks back a mouthful from the same bottle. Indirect kiss through fucking faygo. ]

We should hang out. The four of us. Not, um - not today, because I want to spend today with you and you alone. But. Soon.

[Rather than move, Peter hands over the Faygo bottle and links their arms together. It's half passive aggression (don't fucking try to get him to move,) and half just impulse. He grabs another slice of pizza with his untangled hand, stuffing half of it in his face with a snort.

Once he, you know, elegantly swallows:] Yeah, we should go drop by later sometime. Totally unannounced, just to see what embarrassing shit they get up to when we're not around? We still have to do the gnome thing.

I have six boxes full of fucking gnomes, Odin. They're starting to freak me out.

PSL || peter/odin

cute-ass shit bruh

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