[Third Person Pov]
Peter's eyes flicked back and forth between Felicia and MJ, a restless, almost comical vigilance as Thor continued changing into the borrowed clothes offered to him by Jane. The god of thunder seemed entirely unbothered by the audience, muscles shifting under skin like living marble while he tugged on a simple black shirt that strained across his chest. Peter made certain neither woman was looking. He leaned in close to MJ until his forehead brushed lightly against her temple, the faint scent of her shampoo cutting through the sterile air.
MJ stood rigid, gaze locked on the ceiling tiles as if the secrets of the universe were written there. "Why are you so close? I'm not even looking."
"You have eight eyes," Peter answered, voice low and deadly serious. "I'm just making sure not a single one of them is wandering somewhere it doesn't need to. In fact, I'm looking out for you. We don't want you going cross-eyed, now do we?"
A nervous laugh escaped her. "Hahaha… I suppose not. How thoughtful of you."
When Thor finally finished dressing, Peter gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "Spectacular body, by the way. If I was gay—"
Both MJ and Felicia whipped their heads toward him in identical disbelief. Felicia clicked her tongue. "Hypocrite."
"Enough about his body!" Jane interjected, cheeks flushing a deep pink. "We get it. He's insanely attractive and has a fantastic physique that can only be described as godly."
"Your personal thoughts are beginning to show," Darcy teased, earning a sharp glare from her boss.
Peter cleared his throat, deciding it was time to steer the conversation somewhere safer. "I suppose we should move things along, then. Thor—can you tell us what you're doing here? I doubt the God of Thunder just decided to take a holiday trip to Midgard."
Thor fell quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor with something close to disappointment. "I was cast out of Asgard as punishment by the All-Father."
"What?" MJ asked, interest sharpening her voice. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Thor replied, almost sulking. "I was to be crowned the official prince of Asgard. During the coronation ceremony, we were attacked by the Frost Giants."
He began pacing the lab like a child recounting an unfair grounding, gestures broad and indignant. "We were attacked in our own home by giants who wanted to steal from us. I said we should teach them a lesson, but my father thought otherwise! Can you believe that? As the All-Father he really should be wiser."
Everyone slowly exchanged glances. No one spoke. Their eyes drifted back to Thor, waiting.
"I will continue my grand tale once I've had something to eat," he announced at last, patting his stomach with theatrical gravity. "I am famished and need the energy."
Jane sighed. "There's a diner not far from here…" She glanced around at the group. "I'm not paying for everyone."
"Relax, lady. No one was asking you to," Felicia scoffed with a short laugh.
While Thor had been delivering his miniature tale of exile, Aria had wandered off. She stood in front of a large board covered in blurry, half-identifiable photographs and scribbled notes, head tilted in curiosity.
"What are these?" she asked.
Erik stepped closer, voice settling into the familiar cadence of a scientist explaining his work. "It's our science board. We're astrophysicists. This is a collage of our findings and research. It's how we figured out that Thor really wasn't from Midgard, as you call it."
He carefully removed one of the photographs and held it out for them to see: a dark, grainy image of a figure being violently expelled from a swirling column of light—the Bifrost, captured at the exact moment it deposited the God of Thunder on Earth.
…
"So there we were," Thor said around a mouthful of food, crumbs tumbling onto the table as he gestured broadly with a half-eaten burger. "My loyal comrades-at-arms, standing in the middle of Jotunheim. Snow and ice stretched as far as the eyes could see—endless white, biting cold, the kind that sinks into your bones."
They were all crowded into a corner booth at the diner, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and the faint smell of grease and coffee hanging in the air. Thor continued his story without pause, recounting how he had defied his father's direct orders and leapt headfirst into enemy territory, dragging his friends along for what he had believed would be a glorious battle.
Peter returned from the counter carrying a loaded tray—burgers, burritos, fries, and a cluster of drinks. He slid into the booth and began distributing the food with casual efficiency.
"I thought I said I didn't want any?" MJ looked at him, brow furrowed in mild confusion.
"Huh? Did you?" Peter lifted the edge of his mask just high enough to free his mouth. "I must have forgotten and ordered without thinking. My bad. You might as well take it anyway—wouldn't want it to go to waste."
MJ stared at him for a long second, perfectly aware that someone with an eidetic memory did not simply "forget." Her expression softened. The corners of her mouth curled upward as she pulled the plate closer. Through their psychic link she sent a cascade of soft kissing noises and a vivid image of herself cupping the side of his face, peppering him with quick, affectionate kisses.
Peter smirked, leaning back in the booth with one arm stretched along the headrest, legs crossed over his knee. He stuffed a few fries into his mouth, eyes half-lidded with quiet satisfaction.
Across the table, Felicia's gaze drifted toward his drink. Without a word, Peter swapped their cups. She smiled, a low chuckle escaping her as she brought the straw to her lips. He could almost see the invisible cat tail swaying behind her in pure contentment.
Thor swallowed the last of his burger and pressed on, voice dropping into something heavier. "For disobeying his orders, my father stripped me of my powers. Turned me into a weak mortal and cast me down here. I do not know how mortals like you manage to live being so… fragile. It is a mystery. I feel unpleasantly heavy without my strength."
"Geez, thanks, man," Darcy answered dryly, rolling her eyes as she stabbed at her own fries.
Peter noticed Aria wrinkle her nose after the first bite of her burrito. She set it down carefully, clearly unimpressed. Without drawing attention, he slid her plate aside and placed his own burger in front of her. Aria's lips curved upward in quiet thanks.
"So you were cast down to be taught a lesson in humility, basically," MJ summarized, dusting her hands off. She caught the small, pleased smile that lingered on Aria's face.
"Humility?" Thor looked almost offended, he denied it almost instantly. "I am humble. I am extraordinarily humble. I doubt that is the case at all."
Peter and Felicia both snickered. MJ rolled her eyes. "Right."
Thor drained the last of his coffee, stared at the empty cup with genuine appreciation, and nodded once. "This drink—I like it." Then, without warning, he smashed the ceramic mug against the floor. Shards scattered across the tile. "Another!"
"What is wrong with you?!" Jane exclaimed, half-rising from her seat. Several other patrons had already been glancing their way because of the unusual company; now every head in the diner turned.
"I'm sorry, Margaret—it was an accident—" Jane began, already bending to collect the pieces. Peter stopped her with a raised hand.
A soft shimmer of magic gathered around the broken fragments. In the space of a breath the cup reassembled itself, whole and clean, and floated gently back onto the table. Thor's eyes widened.
"You know magic?"
"Pretty much," Peter said with a casual shrug.
"My sister would like you," Thor remarked, nodding in approval. "She is a woman of magic, just as you are."
'Sister?! The Fuck?!' Peter thought to himself blinking rapidly underneath his mask, 'Is he talking about Hela?'
Jane fixed Thor with a stern look. "Now, would you care to explain what that was all about? Why did you feel the need to do that?"
"I liked it, so I wanted another?" Thor answered, genuine confusion written across his face.
"If you wanted more, all you had to do was ask politely," Jane sighed, rubbing her temple.
"I meant no disrespect," Thor replied, sincere but still clearly lost.
"It's all right, Jane," Peter cut in gently, deciding not to question it at the more, he would surely inquire about it later. "It's just different customs. Let's try to be a little more understanding." He turned to Thor. "You're in a different realm now. The rules here are different from what you're used to. Smashing things when you want more isn't how it works. You ask. You wait. You say please and thank you."
Thor's expression softened. "I see. I apologize. I truly did not mean to be rude or show disrespect."
"It's fine," Jane said, the tension leaving her shoulders, "so long as you understand."
Peter had just lifted another fry toward his mouth when the familiar prickle of danger washed over him. Across the table, MJ, Felicia, and Aria all froze at the same instant—spidey-senses flaring in perfect unison.
The diner door burst open.
Men in Kevlar masks stormed inside, shotguns raised, duffel bags swinging from their shoulders. One of them fired a round into the ceiling. Plaster dust rained down. Screams erupted as customers dove under tables.
"HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"
Peter groaned, tipping his head back against the booth. "Are we deadass right now?"
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