Chapter Text
It was the loud and incessant whirring that woke him up. The methodical hum of the lab always seemed to leave him slightly dazed. Time was something easily forgotten there, and Peter was only now realizing how that might be slightly problematic.
"Hey, kiddie." Mr. Stark turned his head from the small machine he was fiddling with to glance at Peter's groggy state. Peter shifted up from the lab desk he was slumped over at. "Pete. Maybe it's time to head upstairs." Mr. Stark lightly set his machine on the table. Peter hummed lightly but made no effort to get up.
"Kid. You look exhausted. Let's go upstairs so you can sleep in a real bed."
"Here's fine."
"Nope. Let's go." Mr. Stark tugged at Peter's hand until Peter was standing. He was then half-dragged to the elevator. He vaguely heard FRIDAY before feeling the elevator lift. He allowed himself to be guided to his room. (If he wasn't half asleep, he definitely would have fanboyed just a little bit. It was a slightly embarrassing quirk that he could never quite stop.) He didn't remember much after that, but he was pretty sure he just collapsed on his bed while his dad idol mentor watched in fond amusement.
"Peter." He groaned. FRIDAY was always just too loud in the mornings.
"FRI, lights at fifteen." Peter stood and stumbled around the room, running into just about everything before he was ready to head downstairs.
He heard them before he could see them.
The Avengers were nothing but organized chaos. This was brought to the front of Peter's mind when he stepped off of the elevator and got a face full of what he could only hope was oatmeal.
"Oh shit. That wasn't meant for you." Peter was still shocked by the violent assault but managed to wipe his eyes enough to see Sam trying his best to appear apologetic as he hid snickers behind his hand. Peter grumbled, but moved towards the kitchen anyway.
"Peter, perfect. Pancakes are over there." Steve waved towards the towering stack of pancakes next to the stove.
He was wearing a pink apron.
"Pete, doesn't your school start in like two minutes?" Clint was perched on the countertop and speaking through a mouthful of pancake.
"I mean, yeah." With that, he took a few pancakes, grabbed his bag and sprinted to the elevator.
What a time to be alive.
"Dude," Ned half-whispered as Peter rushed to sit down before the bell. He just barely made it. While Ned had gotten a little bit better at not blurting important life secrets, he had not improved at whispering. At times Peter honestly wondered if he was actually capable of using a soft voice.
Peter thought not.
"Hey, Ned. I was up super late last night." Ned shot him a sympathetic look but continued to berate him on his time management and tardiness. Peter stifled a yawn as he tried to listen to Ned and their teacher.
Today was going to be a long day.
When the seventh period finally rolled around, Peter was about done. Peter had always loved physics, but he knew the class would drag just like every other class had. He supposed it was his own fault. Waiting was always painful. Especially waiting for something he loved as much as Team Dinner. Team Dinner was held every Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. It was his luck that Friday was also Team Game Night. The names explained themselves.
They started way before Peter was there, but they became more frequent after Peter joined and time went on. Everyone who was in the area made an effort to come, so Peter would get to see everyone again. Even the Wakandans were coming to this one.
Of course, that was probably because of the ever-increasing Accords meetings. Whatever.
So today was already painful. He doubted the day could be any more annoying. Of course after thinking that he was proven wrong because of Parker Luck™. Just as Peter thought he was free, Ms. Warren called the attention of the class off of the clock above the board.
"I know," she replied to the muffled groans from around the classroom. "I want to go home as much as you do, but I think you'll want to hear this one." She waited for full attention before beginning to hand out a small packet. Peter hoped it wasn't some sort of worksheet. He had done enough work for today, please and thank you. "As you know, Stark Industries is very selective when it comes to guests, so I have to say that you are very lucky." Peter did not like the direction she was heading in.
"After our decathlon's performance at nationals, along with the robotics club contest results from a few weeks ago, I believe we made an impression." The class perked up while Peter slumped in his seat.
He was cursed. That was the only explanation.
"So these packets hold all of the information and papers that you'll need to go on the field trip to Stark Industries this upcoming May."
He felt eyes on him.
He sunk lower.
Parker Luck was the worst.