[Peter lifts his head when he first sees Michael, getting an up close and personal once over of him in the fraction of a few seconds it takes for the door behind him to properly close. Speed has its perks, like letting him find out there's a knife and a set of housekeys in Michael's pockets and little else on his person. Not a lot to go by, Peter leans back against the wall with his arms crossed as he slips back into a reasonable rhythm for the moving world around him.
no subject
Brows raised, however.]
Blond, blue shirt. You're my not-date. Sup?