Work Text:
It takes Peter a minute to realize that the alarm shaking through every neuron of his brain is real , and not part of his dream. Once he does, his eyes blink open almost on their own and he swats at his phone until the noise stops.
Everything in him is just kind of-- buzzing. It’s not a terrible feeling, honestly.
He rolls out of bed and stumbles into his most comfortable hoodie and sweats in a haze, humming absently along with the music still playing from his sleep playlist.
May’s still at work, will be for another hour and a half, and the thought almost brings Peter to tears. He wants to give her a hug .
pebter: hrllo i msis you
pebter: hope u r havgin a good shfit love u
mmmay: how late were you up???
mmmay: love you too
Peter doesn’t really feel like answering her question, so he busies himself with pouring a cup of cold coffee and stirring in milk and sugar and chocolate sauce. It still tastes like shit, but he downs it in between bites of his half-toasted bagel, and barely remembers to grab his backpack on his way out the door.
In all honesty, he isn’t sure if today is going to be a good day, but it’s certainly going to be A Day. The fuzz still settled over his mind ensures that.
piderman: NED
piderman: neddie
piderman: nedward
piderman: nedthanael
piderman: ned
baman: yes peter
piderman: sleep is fake time is a construct god is too cowardly to show his face but if he did i could beat him in a fistfight
baman: how much sleep have you gotten
piderman: what day is it
baman: wednesday
piderman: 7
Ned’s waiting for him by Peter’s locker, like the absolute angel that he is, an energy drink in one hand and a Starbucks croissant in the other.
“I love you,” Peter says immediately, and there’s a possibility that he’s grinning like an idiot but he can’t bring himself to care.
Ned grins back, too, so it’s fine. “I know. Hey, so,” he glances around in what is easily the most suspicious movement Peter has ever seen, and lowers his voice. “How does this work, anyways? With, like, your spider-healing and stuff? How are you still just as much of a zombie as you’ve always been?”
Peter shrugs as he slips the energy drink into his backpack for later. “I dunno. I bet Mr. Stark and I could figure it out, ‘specially if Harley helped, but I super can’t answer it right now.”
Before Ned can ask anything else, MJ appears out of nowhere right beside Peter. He starts, alarmed, and snorts when he realizes the opening he has.
“Stop!” he says to MJ. “I could’ve dropped my croissant!”
She stares at him for a long minute. “When the hell did you go to sleep, Parker?”
“Uh,” Peter scratches at the back of his head as he thinks. “Six-fifteen? Maybe a little later, but that was the last time I looked at the clock, so. Not very long after that.”
“Your alarm rings at six-thirty-five,” Ned says. Peter nods and smiles at him.
“I didn’t even sleep through it,” he agrees, and he can feel the fond exasperation rolling off of both of them.
Peter’s first period is calculus, so Ned leaves him at the door with Betty, who watches him like a hawk the entire class. He only makes it through the first half of the assignment, and his notes are an absolute mess, but he stays awake for the whole hour and Peter’s damn proud of himself for it.
He’s standing in the middle of the hallway on his way to Spanish when it hits him like a freight train - figuratively, thankfully. Peter whips his phone out, ignoring the elbows shoved into his ribs at his sudden stop.
piderman: IT IS WEDNESDAY MY DUDES
piderman: aaAAAAAAAJKFAHKDSIOV
baman: did you make it to class peter
piderman: no
piderman: i was following that guy tobey
piderman: we have first n second peroid together
piderman: but i lost him :(
baman: omfg okay hang on
It’s only an instant later that Cindy Moon rests a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder and walks him the rest of the way to his next class. He thanks her profusely and makes a mental note to send her cookies, or something.
And here’s the thing - it isn’t like he’s completely helpless when he’s tired. He absolutely could have made it to Spanish on time, and he could be taking more coherent notes, and he could probably be fooling the entire school that he had gotten a solid seven hours, if he wanted to. But when he’s as tired as he is today, it’s easier for him to feel safe, and when he feels safe he gets kind of… silly, and dramatic. Peter knows his friends are cool with looking out for him, and it makes him feel happier he can just. Relax.
Spanish passes quickly, and he’d be lying if he said he remembered anything that was said. Ned forces him to sit in the chair and not touch anything during shop, though, which sucks because Peter thinks it would be really fun to see how steadily he could hold a saw in his current state.
On second thought, Ned is probably right. Just this once.
And then the bell rings, and he realizes his whole body is kind of vibrating with that very specific flavor of adrenaline that only comes when you’re trying really fucking hard not to fall asleep. MJ sets two slices of greasy cafeteria pizza on the lunch table in front of Peter, and he smacks an obnoxious kiss to her knuckles in thanks and scarfs them down, sipping the energy drink as he does.
He finishes with fifteen minutes left of lunch, so he dials Harley’s number.
“Hey,” his boyfriend says, congested but happy. “How’s school, darlin’?”
Peter grins and stares at the caller ID, cursing himself for not facetiming instead. “It’s good,” he murmurs, trying to drag his brain back towards his body so he can think in full sentences. “I miss you.”
“Is that Harley?” MJ asks, taking the phone out of Peter’s hand without waiting for an answer. “Dude. Were you talking to your boyfriend last night?”
The frown is so evident in Harley’s voice that it almost makes Peter sad. “No? Why? He’s okay, right?”
MJ rolls her eyes. “Twenty minutes of sleep.”
“ Peter .”
“I was busy!” Peter protests, trying to tug his phone back out of MJ’s hands and pouting when she leans back to hold it out of his reach. “I had to write that dumbfuck essay for Young, and then I decided I would do that reward system thing? So after every paragraph I watched an episode of Schitt’s Creek, but then I. Got distracted.”
Harley starts to laugh but has to pause to cough halfway through. “That doesn’t sound busy to me, sweetheart, that sounds bored . You should’ve called me.”
Ned rolls his eyes, mock-disgusted by the nickname, as if he and Betty haven’t been so much worse since they got together for real a couple months after the Europe trip. Peter sticks his tongue out at his best friend and finally wrenches his phone out of MJ’s grip.
“Sorry, strawberry,” he says after the call is off speaker and his phone’s pressed close to his ear. “It was late, I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“You’re never a bother, Peter.”
“You’re sick , Harls. You need to rest.”
He can hear the eyeroll, and yeah , maybe that was a bit hypocritical, but sue him. He’s tired and he misses his boyfriend.
“Why don’t you come over tonight?” Harley asks instead of calling him on it. “I think May and Pepper have a thing, anyways, so you don’t gotta worry about missing your May time. Then I can get my daily dose of Peter snuggles and you can fall asleep while we watch a Disney movie.”
Peter grins and shuts his eyes, narrowing his focus to the soft, lilting voice on the other side of the phone. “‘Kay. That sounds nice. I can swing by right after decathlon?”
MJ taps the back of his hand and shakes her head when he gives her his attention. “I don’t want you there if you’re just going to fall asleep on the bell. Go take a nap, Parker, and make your boyfriend quiz you later.”
He pouts at her until she rolls her eyes and flips him off, and then asks if Harley heard her.
“Not all of us got supersenses, babe,” he says lightly, so Peter repeats what MJ had said. Harley hums happily. “That’s even better. I’ll see you around three?”
“Maybe a bit earlier,” he agrees.
“And be careful on your way,” Harley says, sounding not quite anxious. “It can’t be easy to swing when you’re running on only twenty minutes, sweetheart.”
Peter smiles softly. “I will. Promise. I gotta go to class in a minute, strawberry.”
“I know.”
They don’t hang up just yet, though, sitting silently on either end of the call for another long minute. It’s only when Ned gives Peter the one-minute warning that he sighs into the receiver.
“Love you,” he whispers for only Harley to hear.
“Love you, too. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
The last three classes of the day pass quickly, thankfully. He has history with MJ, who lets him doodle on her notebook throughout the lecture, and then chemistry with this dude Andrew who’s actually really chill. Peter, MJ, and Ned all sit together in sixth period English, and they’re far enough ahead in the reading that Peter can spend the first thirty minutes making shit up for his analysis assignment and the last twenty minutes with his head on his desk trying not to snore. Or drool.
Ned elbows him right before the last bell rings, and they do their handshake while they wait at Peter’s locker for the halls to clear enough that Peter will be able to jump the fence.
piderman: thanks for the enrgy drink btw
baman: if you are texting while you swing rn i swear to FUCK peter
piderman: whaaat no i would never
FRIDAY greets Peter warmly when he swings in through the landing deck on the 88th floor of the Avengers Tower, directing him to the living room three floors up. He finds Harley curled under at least four blankets, nesting deep in the couch and surrounded by half-empty mugs and water glasses.
Peter flops dramatically on top of Harley. The other boy huffs, smiling, and wraps his arms readily around his shoulders to pull him closer.
“G’night,” Peter slurs. The trip across town had sapped all the energy he’d had left, and he’s ready to pass out as soon as his eyes have time to close.
Harley laughs and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Peter’s head, but doesn’t try to stop him. He just pulls at his shoulders until Peter shuffles under the blankets and they can tangle their legs together. Peter rests his head on Harley’s chest and listens to his boyfriend’s steady heartbeat.
The last thing he’s really aware of before he falls into one of the deepest sleeps he’s ever had is the soft rumble of Harley’s voice asking FRIDAY to dim the lights and the opening scene of Pixar’s Inside Out .
“Love you, strawberry,” he mumbles.
Harley kisses his forehead and Peter can feel the smile on his lips. “I love you too, darlin’.”