If you were going to make him eat something, Rex, you might regret those results. Peter’s spider stomach is made of iron. Except when it comes to peppermint.
But - more importantly, it sure looks like Peter is regretting not taking dare just now. He pales at Rex’s question, suddenly hunched in on himself. He was expecting to be asked a secret - which this would be, as well, but he was going to try to deflect him with something else. Not. This. God. For a moment he’s tempted to ask Rex if he’s sure, does he really want to ask that? But after how embarrassed Rex was by Peter’s dare, he feels like he really doesn’t have any right to ask for mercy.
He’s still silent a moment more. Eyes cast down, loomed over by Rex. Thanks, Rex. Eventually, when it looks like he might not actually respond, he looks up finally to meet Rex’s gaze. “I killed my uncle,” he says. Voice soft. Eyes sliding away from Rex’s as soon as the words are out.
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But - more importantly, it sure looks like Peter is regretting not taking dare just now. He pales at Rex’s question, suddenly hunched in on himself. He was expecting to be asked a secret - which this would be, as well, but he was going to try to deflect him with something else. Not. This. God. For a moment he’s tempted to ask Rex if he’s sure, does he really want to ask that? But after how embarrassed Rex was by Peter’s dare, he feels like he really doesn’t have any right to ask for mercy.
He’s still silent a moment more. Eyes cast down, loomed over by Rex. Thanks, Rex. Eventually, when it looks like he might not actually respond, he looks up finally to meet Rex’s gaze. “I killed my uncle,” he says. Voice soft. Eyes sliding away from Rex’s as soon as the words are out.