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Peter didn't mean to stare. Like, he knew that he was, and, how couldn't he be because God he was beautiful, but it hadn't actually computed in his mind yet that it was possibly a little creepy, or that Mr. Handsome might be a little freaked out by it. He was brutally startled back to reality when Ned gave him a shove because the new kid was blushing like crazy, and seemed to be attempting to hide his face in his book.
"Dude! You're freakin' him out!" He whisper-yelled at Peter, who then shook his head, coming straight back to reality. He turned back to the new kid to whisper an apology, hopefully without blushing, but he had already hidden his face away, an earbud shoved in his ear, while someone from the front of the class seemed to turn around and snigger at him. Frowning, Peter turned back to the work that sat untouched on his desk, hoping that he'd be able to get the boy out of his mind for at least enough time to finish.
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The next time he saw the boy, Peter was wandering down the corridor, excitedly babbling on to Ned about something or other, when someone dropped their books all across the corridor in front of Peter. When he bent down to see who it was, he saw him - the handsome new kid with the fluffy hair and beautiful grey eyes framed by dark blue glasses. When he shook himself out of his stupor, he attempted to pick up some of the kid's books, which had been scattered even further away from him by people kicking them across the corridor. He heard mutters and giggles from the other boys, but Peter ignored them, having had experienced their ignorance since he'd started at Midtown. Once all of the books had been hurreidly collected, the boy stood up, and Peter followed with the other half of his books.
Expecting the boy to put the rest in his bag, Peter kept hold of the books, expecting him to take a bag off his back. After a few awkward moments, the boy quickly muttered,
"Could I have those back please?" never looking Peter directly in his eyes.
"Oh! Yeah, sure, don't you have a bag for them?" Peter asked, confused, as the boy just held them in his hands.
The boy's cheeks just flushed even further, and he muttered a quick "Thanks" before pushing past Peter and stumbling back down the corridor.
Peter looked back at Ned, confused, but he simply shook his head.
"We've gotta get to class, Peter."
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Whoever it was that looked down from the sky, whether it be a grey haired man with a beard or the giant floating spaghetti monster, clearly had it in for Peter today. It had gotten to the point at which it was easier to ask what hadn't gone wrong than what had - he'd been out patrolling late last night and so had slept through his alarm, meaning that he'd had to skip the shower and sprint to school (which did not help with the smell), and he'd then been late to homeroom, resulting in a detention after school. Great.
However, his one shining bit of luck was that, by the time he'd stumbled through the classroom door and listened to whatever tardy-based lymeric his teacher had come up with this morning, the only seat left was behind him - Mr. Mysteriously Handsome, meaning that he could stare all he wanted- not that he wanted to, of course. After Peter had stumbled to his seat, he was finally able to get a good look at him. From his mess of fluffy blond hair to the sturdy black boots he wore on his feet, he was definitely handsome. Fingerless leather gloves adorned his long, elegant fingers, the ends of which seemed to constantly be bruised (a mystery which Peter was determined to solve) and a worn black zip hoodie blanketed his strong figure. Something else that Peter noticed was that there always seemed to be an air of wariness about the boy - as if he was poised, waiting for someone to jump him, expecting an attack. He spent most of his time curled in on himself, as if he was trying to hide away from the rest of the world, almost in shame. As the boy (Alec, Peter recognised as the boy mumbled an answer to the register) had become the object of Peter's wandering thoughts more frequently over the past week or so since the start of term, he noticed that he never seemed to say much - not just to the teachers, who seemed to have already exhausted their efforts to integrate the 'new kid' into as many extra curriculars as possible (all of which Alec politely declined) - but to anyone in the school at all. Peter supposed that beginning new at the beginning of senior year was hard enough, not to mention that Alec had also just moved thousands of miles across the ocean from London to live in New York - but surely his parents must have been helping him to settle in, right?
Unless-
"What is your problem?"
His harsh British accent brought Peter crashing out of his daydream. He looked around the class, realising that everyone had, in fact, gone silent and was staring at the two boys, including, more embarrassingly, the teacher. Alec was staring him down, a hard look in his eyes, waiting for some sort of answer for Peter's actions. Of course, as per usual, Peter's brain seemed to be on shutdown, so the only thing that came out of it was a garbled mess resembling 'umm'.
"Seriously, quit staring at me!" Alec had started to rise out of his seat at this point, and God, did he look intimidating like that. He was just about to raise his voice another pitch when the teacher at the front of the room seemingly remembered that he was supposed to be the authority figure in the room, and sent both boys into the corridor with a very bored expression. With Alec glaring daggers at Peter, he stumbled out of the room, a little more terrified of the boy than he had been when he walked in, Spidey senses be damned.
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When the door slammed shut behind Peter, he rushed to try and cobble together something resembling an explanation for his actions, but Alec got there first.
"Look, if you're just gonna come up with some lame excuse like 'oh I've never seen a f*g before, I wanted to know if you looked different', then just save it, I don't need your stupidity this early in the morning." Alec hissed, before going back to glaring daggers at Peter, as if trying to glare the boy into oblivion. However, his daggers weren't needed - his words alone had been enough to sshock Peter into silence. Is that really how Alec saw him? More importantly, was that really how the boy saw himself?
Say something, Peter, he thought. Just something vaguely intellectual, please.
"I-I'm bi."
Great.
The boy just scowled at him, daring him on.
"I-I mean, don't worry, that's really not how I think of you, I-I just, you, um, you seem so quiet."
Alec, for once, seemed slightly taken aback by the words, and it took even him a minute to reply.
"Yeah, well, I guess I'm not great at making friends," he muttered with a self deprecating smirk. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, head in his hands. After a couple of seconds, Peter sat himself down next to Alec.
"Well, then, start with me. Hi, my name's Peter Parker. And you are?" Peter said, holding out his hand to the boy. He looked up, smiling just a little and took Peter's hand in a warm handshake.
"Alec Hunt."