Work Text:
College has taught Peter Parker one of two things.
One being that morning classes were cruel and ungodly—he was an idiot for taking them.
Two being that University provided appliances were inexplicably unreliable.
And with these two newly learned lessons in mind, he finds himself struggling to squint at his class’s whiteboard—furiously scribbling down the notes verbatim as best he can, while simultaneously attempting to listen to the ramblings of his Professor.
This is proven, annoyingly enough, to be a set of particularly difficult tasks to follow today because not only does he not have his glasses, which he very much needs to see, but he’s also finding himself struggling to stay awake which also significantly and imperatively diminishes his ability to focus.
God, he would actually kill for a coffee right about now. Any kind of coffee actually.
And if his annoyance couldn’t get any worse, at the thought of coffee (or rather lack thereof) he’s suddenly reminded of his incredibly disastrous morning which sours his mood all over again.
Maybe if he didn’t feel like a walking corpse he’d be amenable enough to admit that his terrible no good morning was the product of his own incompetence. But he’s not feeling amenable, not in the slightest and so instead he remains stubborn in his belief that none of this is his fault. Nope, not one bit of it.
His staying up well into the AM playing around with some equation all night certainly wasn’t his fault. And it’s not like he was banking on waking up from a three-hour power nap only to find that his dorm’s microwave had gone out which excluded the option of free caffeine this morning. And it still wasn’t his fault that in his haste to get to class on time he had forgotten to grab his wallet and glasses.
So even though his own forgetfulness has doomed him to a day of wallet-lessness and orchestrated the entire issue of not being able to buy coffee, he was adamant about all of this not being his fault.
Though no matter who or what he truly believed to be the culprit in the scheme of things, he was, sure enough, the one paying for it anyway.
Rubbing at tired eyes, Peter tries to reiterate what he’s supposed to be doing by telling himself silently in his head–even repeating the words of his droning Professor to himself lowly so that something at least sticks.
Professor Boris surely did not make the task of staying awake any easier, not with the way he carried on through his lecture voice monotone and dry–it almost felt like a lullaby to Peter’s ears.
With a shake of his head, Peter realizes that he’s zoning out again, that the words are going in one ear, bouncing right off his brain and repelling straight out the other ear without any of it actually registering or soaking in. Quietly, he taps the eraser of his pencil against his notebook and fidgets his foot under the small desk. Focusing, I am focusing he thinks to himself jotting down another list of things.
Yeah, he’s totally focusing now. He’s so focused that if the word focused was a person, he’s positive it would be him. He’s so focused that–
“Psst, you got a calculator?”
Like nails on a chalkboard, the sudden whisper of words screeches his train of thought to a grueling halt. Where it then promptly derails from its tracks, crashes, flips over, and then explodes in a fiery blaze of distraction .
He blinks, maybe a bit owlishly without his glasses.
“What?” The words blurt out of his mouth automatically as a spark of panic ignites in the pit of his stomach.
“The syllabus didn’t mention needing a calculator...did it?” He frowns, confused by his own question.
Shit, did he fuck up? He can’t help but think this despite having read the syllabus at least ten times earlier this week. Was he so sleep-deprived that he mixed up his classes?
The mystery boy responsible for Peter’s current inner turmoil pulls a face at his words. “What? No. I need it to finish my statistics homework.” He answers, gesturing at the paper now spread out on his desk next to Peter’s, which definitely wasn’t for this class.
Peter only blinks at him in confusion, mind a bit discombobulated by the pure and sheer horror that has reigned through his body. But then he remembers, he doesn’t have a math course this semester. The panic bleeds from his shoulders slowly at this realization, pieces of it only linger because of its abruptness. He feels more awake now, that’s for certain.
And to be totally fair about the brief mental lapse, it was eight something in the morning and he was off of three hours of sleep. The fact that it was a Monday morning should also exempt him from any criticism. He genuinely couldn’t be blamed for blanking out at that, okay?
“You seriously don’t have a calculator? Dude, come on.” The voice cuts through his thoughts again, and suddenly Peter is reminded that he’s been staring at this guy with a blank look the entire time. Oops.
He clears his throat, looking away from pretty blue eyes and attractively strong features.
“Dude, no. Why would I waste money on something I don’t need?” He responds mockingly, looking down at his notebook briefly before back up at the whiteboard….that Professor Brois was currently erasing. Great.
“Dude, it’s a calculator?” The blonde-haired stranger returns the tone of mockery, still raving on and on about the lack of material as if he’s truly astonished by it. Peter rolls his eyes.
“ Dude, calculators are expensive.” He points out flatly.
“You seriously can’t not own a calculator in college...”
This grabs his attention, Peter looks back over at the boy and narrows his eyes. “Says the random dude asking me for a calculator....”
“Touché. But I do own a calculator, FYI. One of these broke ass assholes stole it.” Blondie smiles falsely before his words trail off into a grumble.
And Peter can’t stop himself from snorting out loud at this. That’s so random, who steals a calculator?
Thankfully before he can think too much on the matter and dissolve into actual laughter (which he would blame on sleep deprivation) Blondie is interrupting him yet again with a large hand extending over into his space, hovering just a few inches away.
And oh, that….that is an attractive hand– which is an odd thought, one that Peter doesn’t quite feel like dissecting at the moment. He mentally shrugs it off.
“Anyways, I’m Wade,” Wade says, his hand still out for Peter to shake. “Peter,” Peter answers, taking Wade’s large hand into his own and shaking it. He finds that it is comfortably warm and completely engulfs his own which is huh, pretty impressive.
And hot too, he brushes that thought off as some form of mania resulting from lack of sleep.
“Huh, that surprisingly has a better ring to it than Calculator-Less boy..” and oh that’s so corny. Peter hates that it makes him smile.
“Well, Wade has a better ring to it than guy-who’s-calculator-got-stolen.” He quips back, earning a grin that makes his heart skip one beat too many. Is it possible for someone to have pretty teeth? He wonders helplessly.
“Ouch, that was a cheap shot.” Wade complains though the grin is still plastered across his nice face. His really nice face that Peter fears will plague his mind indefinitely. He swallows at the thought.
And thankfully he’s saved from possibly embarrassing himself by furthering this conversation when Professor Boris’s voice drones on through the lecture hall again. Peter’s a tad bit grateful for the sound now.
“What can I say? I’m cheap. Now hush so I can pay attention.” He responds, effectively concluding their conversation.
Almost disappointingly, Wade leaves Peter alone for the rest of the lecture.
Though he does catch the blonde staring at him a few times out of his peripheral vision so he doesn’t think Wade took offense to the dismissal.
_____________
The next time Peter sees Wade, he’s having a significantly better Monday.
He’s sitting at one of the middle row desks towards the back of the lecture hall, he’s got his glasses on his face, wallet in his pocket, and travel mug full of coffee on his desk. He had gotten a good six hours of sleep and even managed to show up to class five minutes ahead of time.
Wade on the other hand walks through the lecture hall’s door a minute before the start of class. His presence interrupts Professor Boris in one of his greetings and the older man narrows his eyes at the intrusion though doesn’t say anything against it as Wade smiles at him, thumb tucked awkwardly under the bookbag strap on his shoulder. “Morning Profess.” He chirps and Peter can’t help but smile. What? The guy was charming…
After a dry greeting returned from Professor Boris followed by what sounds suspiciously like a warning about tardiness but isn’t quite, Wade makes his way over to the row of stairs that lead up to the student desks, and then his hypnotizing blue eyes are searching across for something.
Peter nearly holds his breath with hope, his hand reaching out to grab at his backpack that he had left to rest in the empty seat next to him for reasons.
Almost scarily easy, Wade’s eyes find him and he smiles this bright and totally immersive smile that sends Peter’s heart beating double time in his chest. Damn, no sleep deprivation to blame this reaction on. Peter returns the smile warmly and pulls the bag from the seat. Please sit next to me, please sit next to me, he chants to himself in his mind a bit obsessively.
His wishes are answered when Wade ducks down his row and beelines straight for the seat.
He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from bursting out in outright cheers. That would be weird and embarrassing especially given that they don’t exactly know each other.
Trying to put on an air of nonchalance, Peter tears his gaze away from Wade and down to his notebook where he busies himself with copying down the date as well as the title of the section.
He hears Wade’s footsteps approach and forces himself to keep his eyes on his paper. Don’t be weird, he tells himself. Don’t be–
Without a word, Wade sets a brand new, expensive calculator down on Peter’s desk.
It’s sudden and a bit odd, prompting raised eyebrows from Peter before he looks up at the other boy currently still standing over his desk with a shit-eating grin. “Oh cool, man, you got a new one?” He muses.
Wade snorts.
“Nope. This one is mine.” And then he’s unzipping his backpack, reaching inside, and then pulling out an identical calculator.
And maybe once he realizes that the calculator is intended for him his jaw drops a bit, though only because the calculator Wade has given him is one of those stupidly expensive ones. It’s one of those calculators you can download mini games on and actually play kind of stupidly expensive.
Peter is baffled. This isn’t the sort of gift that you give someone you’ve held one conversation with–no matter how amusing.
“What? I can’t pay you back for this Wade..” He quickly shakes his head once his thoughts are back online and Wade visibly rolls his eyes at this. “I don’t expect you to, it’s a gift.” He emphasizes as he drops his bag to the ground silently while settling down in the seat Peter had saved for him.
“A gift for what?” Peter questions, surely Wade didn’t know his birthday and it’s not like it even was his birthday.
“Christmas. Merry Christmas by the way.” Wade says dryly, reaching to take out his own notebook and pencil.
“It’s the beginning of October...”
“Uh....Happy Halloween??”
“I don’t think it works like that...”
“Well, I’m Canadian and that’s how we celebrate Halloween in Canada.”
Peter raises an eyebrow at the blatant lie, trying to hide his amused smile. “Oh really?”
“Uh-huh.” Wade nods eagerly. “Totally.”
He shakes his head fondly, who knew a calculator could be so sweet? “Seriously Wade, you didn’t have to get me this. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t need one.” Peter grabs the calculator and holds it back out for Wade to take.
Professor Boris has started the lecture now but Peter can’t bring himself to focus–not with Wade’s ridiculously expensive calculator in his hand that he refuses to accept.
Wade waves him off, “Pssh, every college student needs a calculator.” He insists stubbornly.
Peter falters for a moment and realizes that yeah, Wade isn’t going to be willingly taking the device back. “So you gonna buy everyone else here a calculator too? Ya know, since every college student needs a calculator?” He teases instead, just to be a smart ass.
“Oh fuck no. For all I know, one of these assholes stole my last one.” Wade scoffs at the sheer thought, rolling his eyes for seemingly good measures.
Peter hums at this.
“Right, and what if I was the asshole who stole it? Then what?”
This gives the blonde pause, his face contorting into a complex expression of confusion and thought. “That….that would be a very surprising plot twist that I did not see coming.”
Peter laughs out loud this time, far too amused by Wade’s antics. He has to quickly stifle it, nearly drawing attention to their row which leaves his cheeks flaming with a blush.
“Okay but be honest, do you always just go out of your way to buy broke strangers’ ridiculously expensive calculators?”
Wade stares at him for a moment and then looks sheepish, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Only the cute ones I’m too nervous to ask out.”
And this catches Peter completely off guard. He hadn’t thought that he made that much of an impression on the guy, at least not a good one. If anything he had assumed Wade considered him to be rude or maybe a bit amusing. Not fucking cute enough to buy a hundred-dollar calculator over.
But boy does this level the playing field.
A smile splits across Peter’s face, completely involuntarily, as he props his elbow up on the desk so that he can rest his chin in the palm of his hand.
“Wade, are you trying to ask me out with a calculator?”
Wade looks like a deer caught in headlights at the question as if the question itself has put into perspective just how odd the gift is.
“Uh..only if you want me to ask you out with a calculator.” He answers dumbly.
And Peter is back to biting his bottom lip to keep laughter from spilling out.
He shakes his head, looking back down at his notebook and lifting his pencil to scribble in a tiny corner of the page.
It only takes him a couple of seconds to write what he does and once he finishes, he tears the tiny corner of paper off the page and slides it onto Wade’s desk subtly.
“Well, if you’re free after this class I’d love to stop and get some coffee with you and if you’re not, my number’s on that piece of paper and maybe we can meet up some other time–”
“Fuck yeah I’m free.” Wade interrupts, one of his large hands quickly snatching up the piece of paper much to Peter's delight.
Peter smiles a bit goofily, too fucking smitten with the blonde-haired boy. “Cool.”
“Cool.” Wade patriots with an equally goofy smile on his face.
“Now pay attention, Professor boring Boris is teaching.”
“Aye Aye Calculator Boy.