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You vividly remember the day Peter asked you out. He was a bumbling, nervous mess, actually managing to dump his backpack on the floor even though in the beginning of the conversation it was securely strapped to his back. You laughed, but not meanly- you thought it was cute, really, and a little bewildering that one of the smartest boys in school was nervous about asking you out. As you bent down to help him retrieve the notebooks and pencils that had sprawled across the hallway, your hands met for a moment over a sheet covered with equations too complicated for you to comprehend. You both blushed, but didn’t notice, because you were both too busy looking away from the other person as quickly as possible at the first feeling of heat flaring in your cheeks. It was a moment out of time, like a meet-cute in a movie, and for the rest of the day you felt like you were floating on air.
How far you’ve come. But… not necessarily in a good way. Peter sits across from you at a little restaurant a few blocks away from school, fidgeting with his cell phone. He’s clearly withdrawn, not really all there, and after a moment you set your fork down and try to get his attention. “Peter? You okay?”
He doesn’t respond for a moment, but finally looks up at you, almost like he’s forgotten you’re there. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just waiting to see if Mr. Stark is going to call.”
You sigh. Everything is about the Stark internship these days. And that’s fine, really. You’re incredibly proud of him for scoring such an amazing opportunity. He certainly deserves it, and the chance to show off how smart he actually is. Details of what he actually does are few and far between, and you get that, Stark Industries is a tight run ship and far be it from you to demand information about something you know nothing about. It’s just… everything is about the internship. Every day after school, late into the night. Secret notebooks full of strange math and science he won’t let you help him with, even when he gets stuck. Being glued to his phone constantly, even during class, always hoping for a call you’ve personally never even seen come in.
He maintains Mr. Stark is just busy and so he needs to be available whenever he needs him. You’re beginning to wonder if Tony Stark really even gives a shit about your sweet boy who’s clearly dropping everything to try and please him. It worries you- especially since Peter doesn’t even seem to see it.
“Has he called recently?” You stick a bite into your mouth, preventing you from saying anything further. You know what the answer will be before he even opens his mouth.
“No… but he will. He’s probably caught up in some new project.” His voice takes on a bit of a dreamy quality, like it always does when he talks about “some new project” Tony Stark is engineering up in his mighty tower. He idolizes him, but honestly, your opinion of the billionaire is dropping closer and closer to the floor by the minute. Has he ever called Peter? Even once? Does he realize what it’s doing to him? There are circles under Peter’s eyes that you’ve noticed have been building for months now, and he seems perpetually exhausted and overworked and strung out all at once. His fingers never, ever leave his phone. When you call him he picks up in an instant, excited, and his voice drops just a little every time he realizes it’s only you.
You’re not offended. Not yet, anyways. It just makes you sad.
“Well, put the phone down, at least. You’ve barely touched your food.” You try to keep your voice light, but some of the underlying concern must have bled through, because he looks up at you sharply.
“I’m fine, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”
“I know you are. Just… maybe think about taking a night off, yeah? We could see a movie, or go back to my place…?” You haven’t had alone time with him in positively ages; even dragging him to the restaurant, which the two of you used to visit all the time, was a feat.
Like you know he will, he shakes his head. “I’ve got some stuff I have to do-”
“-for the internship,” you finish, deflating a little. “Yeah. I know.”
To his credit, he does have the decency to look a little remorseful. “Sorry. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“Really?” You perk up. “You mean it?”
“Sure, I’ll just… I can just let Mr. Stark know I’m busy and then we can spend the whole night together.” He smiles at you, that dorky smile that you fell in love with so easily. “Does that work?”
“Yes.” You’re grinning from ear to ear. “That’s awesome, Peter. Really.”
“Great.” He’s back on his phone will he stands, shrugging on his coat and backpack. He does lean down and kiss you on the cheek, albeit briefly. “I’ll see you then, okay?”
You try to get him to come back for a proper kiss, but he’s already halfway out the door. “Okay,” you call half heartedly, but you doubt he even hears you as the bell tied to the restaurant’s entrance jingles, signaling his exit.
Sighing, you get up to pay for your meals, and to get a box for Peter’s untouched food. But the hope of tomorrow night burns bright in your chest, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself humming on the walk home.
…
You knock on the door to May’s apartment, practically bubbling with excitement. A whole night with Peter. Nothing but bad movies, tossing (or attempting to toss) popcorn into each other’s mouths, cuddling some. Maybe… maybe even a little bit more. The two of you have kissed, sure, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s ever thought about, well. More. Just the thought of it makes your cheeks a little red, but hey, he’s your boyfriend isn’t he? You have a right to be attracted to him. That makes you giggle a little as May finally opens the door.
“Y/N! What a surprise! Come in, come right on in.” She stands aside and you smile gratefully at her as you step inside their cozy little apartment.
“Thanks, May. Did Peter not tell you I was coming? Sorry to drop in unannounced.”
“Oh, dear. Did the two of you have plans tonight?” She puts a hand up to her cheek. “I’m afraid he’s out. Something about the internship.”
Your heart drops. He forgot? You’d talked about it just that day in class. So… maybe he didn’t forget. Maybe he knew you had plans and he went out anyways. What happened to telling Mr. Stark he was busy? Are you not important enough for even one night off?
Thoughts are spinning through your head, and May seems to notice your face fall because she tries to salvage the situation. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Do you want to go on in to his bedroom? You can make yourself comfortable while you wait.”
You give her a tight smile, so different from the one on your lips just a few minutes ago. “Yeah, I guess… I guess I’ll do that. Thanks, May.”
She looks sympathetic. “Let me know if you need anything.”
You’re pretty familiar with Peter’s room; you’ve hung out here many times before. Of course, the last time was months ago, before the internship thing started happening. But nothing much has changed: bed messy and unmade, projects and trinkets and homework littering the desk. Clothes on the floor. It almost makes you smile, just a little. It’s like nothing’s changed, and you’re just waiting for him to get snacks from the kitchen- he’ll come back in any moment and tackle you onto the bed, smothering you in kisses, making you squeal.
Sighing, you sit down, dropping your bag full of movies beside you. He’s probably just running something small and he’ll be back soon. You keep saying that to yourself again and again as the time ticks by, later and later. Eventually, you just lay down on his bed, curled up in his blankets. It smells like him, which makes you sad and angry all at once. He really did skip out on you. For some stupid internship he won’t even tell you anything about except its all big and important. Apparently so important he can’t give his girlfriend the time of day. You scrunch his comforter up to your chin, trying to keep tears from falling down your cheeks.
You’re going to wait for him, no matter how late he comes back. You’re going to make sure he knows you waited for him, even though he clearly didn’t give a crap about you.
You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you know there’s a hand on your shoulder shaking you awake. “Y/N? What are you doing?”
“Peter.” You sit up and rub your eyes. “Forget about something?”
“I-” he stops, looking guilty. “No. I didn’t forget. It was an internship thing, last minute, I figured I wouldn’t be gone long and then we could hang out but it ran late. I’m sorry, I thought you’d just go home.”
“You didn’t even try to call?”
“I… I was busy.”
You can’t believe this. You honestly can’t believe this sweet, thoughtful boy would completely stand you up and then not even bother to call and tell you about it. Except, here it is, right in front of your face. Maybe you’ve been overstating him. Maybe he’s not really that sweet after all. “Peter.I waited for you for-” you check your phone “seven hours. Seven hours thinking, oh, he’ll be back soon, he can’t possibly think that this stupid internship is that much more important than his girlfriend.” You shake your head. “But here we are.”
“Stupid?” He instantly bristles. “It’s not stupid, Y/N, it’s amazing-”
“What’s so amazing about it?” You explode on him, standing up so fast he has to take a step back. “I sure as hell don’t know, because you won’t even tell me anything about what you do! All I know is that you’re always, always waiting for a call that’s never going to come, Peter. It’s not. I don’t care how much you idolize Tony Stark, he clearly does not give a flying fuck about you or how he’s upending your life. You’re not sleeping, you’re missing school, you won’t give me the time of day. And-” your voice breaks, and you can feel the tears starting to come back with a vengeance. “I love you, but I’m sick of it, Peter. I miss you. I miss us. But you don’t even seem to care.”
You expect an apology. At least a little remorse. But instead, he just seems to get angrier, matching your sadness with a rage you haven’t seen from him, ever. “No, Y/N, if you really loved me, you’d support me. You’d know what an amazing shot this is! You wouldn’t be complaining all the time about me sleeping or eating!” He runs his hands through his hair. “Mr. Stark believes in me. He’s giving me this chance, and I can’t mess it up. Maybe it is the most important thing right now.” The look he gives you and the words he’s saying make your heart break. “If you loved me, you’d understand.”
You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, you pick up your backpack and sling it on. “No, Peter,” you say thickly. “I do love you. But you obviously don’t love me.”
“Y/N-”
You shoulder him out of the way. “Save it for your precious Mr. Stark.”
…
It’s been two months without Peter. Two months since your argument, two months without a word since. You do see him in the hallways occasionally, and though you try not to care you can’t help but notice the bags under his eyes growing darker and darker every week; how sometimes he comes to school in the same clothes he’d been wearing the day before. You try not to care. But you do. And every time you have to remind yourself that he doesn’t, it stabs you in the guy so harshly you have to look away.
You still think about him, in the moments between problem sets or the paragraphs of an English paper. How it started so great; how it all went wrong. But you can’t blame yourself for that. He made his choice, clear as day. You just… got caught in the storm.
You put your pencil down and let your head rest on your desk. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. You sit there a while, just trying to breathe through the sudden wave of emotion, when there’s a tapping on your window that distracts you.
You ignore it, but it keeps happening, almost a knock rather than the patter of the rain. Going over to it and pushing the curtains aside, you stop. Peter is crouched on the balcony, in the rain, nothing but the clothes on his back. You quickly go and unlock the door. “Peter? What- how did you even get up here-?”
He stumbles in without a word, heaving, and at first you think he’s drunk, but when he wraps you into a hug so tight you can hardly breathe you realize he’s crying. Sobbing. Tentatively, you hug him back, the first contact you’ve had with him in months. “Peter? What’s wrong?” He mumbles something against your shoulder, which is now wet with tears. You pull him away from you, worried. “Peter. Talk to me.”
“I lost the Stark internship,” he whispers, and the world seems to stop.
“Oh, Peter.” Despite all that’s happened, your heart sinks. “I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I know you’re not, I know you’re probably glad, I just… I didn’t know where else to go,” he says miserably, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out and wiping a tear from his cheek.
“You’re wrong,” you say. “I am sorry. I know how important it was to you.”
“I messed it all up. Mr. Stark- you were right about him. About everything. It’s all my fault.”
“Look at me.” He does, with red eyes. “Tony Stark is an idiot and a fool if he can’t see what’s right in front of him. You’re amazing, Peter Parker. He just doesn’t realize it.”
“But you did.” He takes your hand, but slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to. You don’t. “You do. You-” he stops, looks away. Takes a breath. “You said, that night, that you loved me.” His voice is so small you can hardly hear his words. “I thought that maybe… you still might.”
Now you’re crying, though not as heavily as he was. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I do.”
He presses a kiss to your lips, softly at first, but then harsher, more desperate. You don’t push him away, even though you know you probably should. All is not forgiven, but in this moment, you’re so happy to have your Peter back you’d just as quickly forgive him for the world.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” When he finally pulls away, his voice is rough. “You were there with me the entire time, and I was too stupid to see it.”
“Maybe you’re a bit of a fool as well, Peter Parker.” You put a hand to his cheek and he leans into it, looking at you. “But you’re my fool. And I’m willing to give it another chance if you are.”
He kisses you again, and this time, without even saying a word, you know he loves you too.