*A/N*

CONTENT NOTE: In this story, Peter is fourteen. In this chapter, he's trying to steal the holographic map projector from the creepy tour guide. Sakaar, if you're not familiar with the MCU,, specifically Thor: Ragnarok, is a jacked up planet with a morally questionable leader, the Grandmaster, who encourages his people to partake in equally morally questionable behavior. As a means to an end, Peter flirts with the tour guide, and the flirting is reciprocated. But nothing comes of it.

Also, there's not a thing wrong with the name Devin.

The longer the tour group walked, the fewer obscure landmarks and monuments the overzealous guide pointed out, opting instead to point out popular, high-end establishments specializing in every vice or craving imaginable. He seemed to enjoy entertainment of the inhaled and injected variety, though he made frequent concession to those partaking in liquid pleasure.

Time seemed to slow to an excruciating pace as the excursion continued. Peter kept his eyes on the holographic map projector, and the tour guide by necessity. He managed to foil three pick-pocketing attempts by circling the parameter of the tour group and noticed each of the three thieves acknowledged and seemed to defer to the guide with a subtle signal.

He knew a con when he saw one. Hell, he'd run that particular con dozens of times. It was lowbrow and amateurish, but it was a solid segue to life as a Ravager. Thieving 101. He'd had to learn to use the resources at hand, including any distraction, no matter how flimsy, to his advantage.

Peter recognized the tour guide's drug-induced clumsy-giddy-stupor and saw an opportunity. The fact that despite his haze, the guide seemed to notice Peter noticing his interaction with the thieves was a problem, and Peter cringed as he made his decision.

Sliding up onto a stool, Peter let his shoulder bump the other man's arm. The guide cleared his throat, turned slowly to face him, and studied him with a glassy, appreciative, if somewhat dim, appraising look. He smiled a slow, dangerous sort of smile and held two fingers up to the barkeep.

"Jason." Peter frowned at the two shot glasses of steaming blue liquid with blood red granules lining the lip of each glass.

"Hmmm?" The guide winked at the bartender, then slid one drink to Peter.

"You- Uhm, you asked my name." Peter sniffed the drink recoiled back at the acrid scent. He cleared his throat and faked a smile. It was a damn good thing his mother, like most Earth mothers, had decided a good middle name was important. If he was about to do something stupid, he'd need an easy alias to remember. "Earlier. Before – back, in the…"

"Right! Yes, of course." The smile softened a bit, but the guide's eyes had gone dark and seemed sharper than should have been possible for the variety of substances Peter had watched him snort over the course of the afternoon. The guide tossed back his drink, suggestively licking some of the crimson granules off his lips and tipped his head toward Peter's drink. "Join me. Please. You've not tried any of the delicacies on our tour. I assure you, this is Sakaar's favorite cocktail."

"I'm not…" Peter stopped himself. He wasn't on Earth, he didn't know the rules. What he did know was that he had no intention of drinking that cocktail. He picked up the small glass and studied the red granules. A bit of the blue liquid sloshed over the edge. The granules turned green and burned a small spot on his hand.

"What do you have to lose, Jason?" The tour guide smiled and reached over to squeeze Peter's shoulder. "Do it. For me." He placed his other hand over his nametag. "Devin."

What the fuck kind of name was Devin? It was a split second thought, one he managed not to verbalize as he choked back a surprised laugh. Without wasting much thought, he capitalized on his own reaction, as well as Devin's slightly hurt shock, and dropped his drink Devin's lap.

Devin cried out in surprise and then pain as he jumped from his stool.

"Shit, man. My bad." Peter reached across the bar for a stack of napkins, but Devin shoved him away.

"Don't," he grunted, shifting uncomfortably. "I need to… Go… I have to…"

Peter nodded and tried to look contrite. "I'll wait." He looked up through his eyelashes. "If you want me to."

"Hnngg." Devin adjusted his shorts and hissed. "Yes. Yes." He glanced around. "Stay here. I just need to…"

"Go," Peter laughed. He watched Devin dodge through the mass of people, then turned to see the bartender busy with a group of women at the other end of the bar. With practiced ease, he slid the holographic map projector that Devin had abandoned on the bar into his backpack and slung the pack onto his shoulder.

Pressing the timer button to the count of eight on a few of the digital firecrackers, Peter dropped them into a shopping bag another tourist had absentmindedly left hanging on a chair next to him, and made a hasty retreat through the back storage room.

Only one figure, shrouded in a dark hood, tucked in a shadowed corner, watched him go. She waited for the chaos of the brightly colored explosions to follow him back out to the main thoroughfare.