Archive of Our Own

The bright red F at the top of Lin Lie’s midterm might as well have been a death sentence.

He stared at it in a poor attempt to make the letter seem less damning. A D , maybe? A pity C- ? There has to be some partial credit Dr. Richards was missing. There’s just no way. But, no matter how hard he stared at it, the messy red ink was clear: Lie had failed.

He exhaled slowly, tapping his pencil against the desk as the lecture droned on. Not like he was exactly paying attention to his professor, his mind still stuck on the test in front of him.

Lie didn’t exactly think getting an archaeology degree was supposed to be this difficult. He doesn’t ever remember his dad explaining the science behind it all and why it was necessary, he just enjoyed the part where he would tell Lie how he pieced together the components of a lost civilization like one massive puzzle. It was the only thing the two of them could ever really connect on.

So when his dad suddenly disappeared while on some classified research expedition along with his brother, Lie did the only thing that made sense to him at the time: follow in his path in an attempt to find some answers.

But those answers might never be found if he couldn’t pass a basic physics midterm.

Pathetic.

The clock on the wall directly above Dr. Richards’ head told him that there were exactly four minutes before the lecture ended. Around him, each student was focused, taking notes like it was second nature, like whatever the hell their professor was talking about just made sense. Lie slumped back in his chair, resisting the urge to put his head down in shame. Each second felt like a lifetime, and by the time the lecture was finally dismissed, Lie had sunken down to his shoes.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way down the steps, every movement weighed down with the feeling of dread. He attempted to avoid Dr. Richards’ gaze and easily slip out of the classroom, but he was suddenly stopped by the commanding voice of what felt like a disappointed parent.

“Mr. Lin Lie, stay behind for a moment.”

Lie’s shoulders tensed. He tightened his grip on his backpack strap as he forced himself to turn around, students brushing past him as they filed out of the room. The air felt heavier with each step he took towards the desk, Dr. Richards standing directly behind it with his arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face as Lie approached.

“What happened?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Dr. Richards simply raised his eyebrows at the response. “You don’t know. You do understand that this midterm is worth forty percent of your grade, correct, Mr. Lin?”

“Yes, sir,” Lie whispered.

Dr. Richards let out a slow sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you fail this course, it will set you back an entire semester. Which means delaying graduating, which means further delay in your goals.”

Lie winced. He really shouldn’t have made his admissions essay about his father.

“I assume you don’t want that,” Dr. Richards continued.

Lie pressed his lips together in a tight frown. No, of course he didn’t want that. He wanted to be able to move forward and coast through college until he was able to actually work for what he was after. But physics? Numbers and formulas and how to apply them? It didn’t click with him. His brain hurt just thinking about it.

“What do you suggest I do?” he finally asked, hoping his professor wouldn’t ask something impossible of him.

Dr. Richards studied him for a moment, before tapping his pen against the desk. “I will allow you to revise your test for partial credit. But if and only if you receive proper help. Understood?”

Lie blinked at the offer. “What kind of help?”

Dr. Richards leaned against his desk with a smile. “You, my friend, need a tutor, and I happen to know just the person for it.”

Oh.

Oh no .

“I assume you’re familiar with my teaching assistant, Mr. Parker?”

Lie’s blood ran cold.

Peter. Freaking. Parker.

The name was practically legendary in the science department at this school. A genius, a prodigy, the guy who always had the answers to the questions before anyone could even ask. On top of that, the talk of how stupidly charismatic and frustratingly attractive he was any time his name happened to be mentioned was absolutely ridiculous. The thought of even having to interact with the guy made Lie sick to his stomach.

And now he was being forced to study with him.

Alone.

Dr. Richards didn’t seem to notice Lie’s internal meltdown. “He is my brightest pupil. If anyone can help you, it would be him.”

Lie opened his mouth, searching for an excuse to get out of such a mess, but all he could think about was the very real possibility of failing. Of setting himself back and losing more time before he could even start looking for the answers he so desperately needed.

“...Okay,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine.”

Dr. Richards nodded, satisfied. “Good. He has an office on the first floor of the building, near the entrance. I suggest finding him sooner rather than later. I expect your corrections by the end of the week.”

Lie exhaled through his nose with a stiff nod before turning on his heel, already regretting his decision.

He barely made it out of the classroom before pulling out his phone to call the one person who might be able to talk him down from the ledge. That, or make everything feel significantly worse.

The moment she picked up, he groaned into the receiver. “I want to die.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, sunshine,” Luna mused on the other end, a smirk evident in her voice. “What’s got you all bummed out?”

“I have to get a tutor,” Lie said through gritted teeth.

There was a pause. Then, “Okay? That doesn’t exactly seem like, die-worthy—”

“No, no, you don’t understand, Luna.” Lie sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not just any tutor. Richards said it has to be Peter Parker.”

Silence.

Then, an absolutely demonic cackle.

“Oh, this is hilarious —”

“Luna, I’m being serious—”

“Oh, I know you are.” He could hear the grin on her face. “Richards is offering that? Damn, he must feel really bad for you.”

Lie groaned. “Don’t say it like that.”

“I have to say it like that.” Luna’s voice was practically dripping with amusement. “Richards doesn’t just go around handing out favors. Either he sees some kind of potential in you, or he thinks you’re a lost cause.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence there,” Lie muttered.

“I’m just saying, you have to take this. No way you’re going to throw something like this away just because Parker is, like, Mr. Unobtainable.”

Lie scoffed. “That’s not why—”

“Sure it isn’t.”

Lie pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already tell where this conversation was heading. “Please don’t, Luna.”

“Fine, fine, no bringing up your mini-crush on him, sorry.” Luna hummed, her teasing tone shifting into something a bit more thoughtful. “But you know, you could use this as an opportunity.”

Lie frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not just trying to pass physics. You’re trying to get through this degree as fast as possible so you can start finding out what happened to your dad, right?”

Lie’s grip on the device tightened. “...Yeah.”

“Well, Peter Parker’s the kind of guy who probably knows everyone. Play your cards right and this could be huge for you.”

Lie hated to admit it, but she was right. Not only was he stupid smart, he was stupid connected, too. If he was lucky, this little tutoring arrangement could turn into something that would help him down the line.

Still.

Did it have to be him?

Luna sighed dramatically. “And who knows? Maybe you two will fall madly in love.”

Lie nearly dropped his phone. “ Are you insane?!”

“Maybe a little,” she offered after a fit of laughter. “Look, just meet the guy, get through your study sessions, and don’t do anything stupid. You’ll be fine.”

Lie grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he hung up.

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

It’s only tutoring , he told himself. How bad can it be?

—

Thirty minutes later, he found himself standing outside of Peter’s office, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

He hesitated, then hesitated some more, before finally knocking.

A few moments went by with no response, and Lie decided that maybe this was a sign to not worry about it. He could go to his dorm and watch some Khan Academy videos on what he messed up on and he will not have to get involved with Peter Parker in the slightest. He started to silently thank whatever god decided to be kind to him on this day when his thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him.

Lie turned around sharply, already dreading what he’d see.

Peter stood behind him, one brow quirked in amusement, a coffee cup in one hand, and a stack of papers in the other. He was dressed casually in a slightly rumpled hoodie and joggers, his soft fluffy hair tousled like he had just ran a hand through them, with a tired but overall welcoming expression on his face.

“You looking for me?” Peter asked, shifting the papers in his arms to fish out the keys to his office.

Lie swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. “I, um, yeah,” he squeaked out, before clearing his throat to try again. “Dr. Richards said you would be able to help me.”

Peter unlocked the door, pushing it open with his shoulder before stepping inside. He nodded towards Lie, signaling him to follow. “I assume you’re Lin Lie.”

Lie winced. “You’ve heard.”

Peter chuckled, setting his things down on his desk. “Reed didn’t exactly give me details, but I can only assume it wasn’t a great midterm if I’m now your assigned tutor.” He turned to face Lie fully, leaning against the desk. “So, let’s start simple. What exactly went wrong?”

Lie paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, everything?”

Peter snorted. “Okay, that’s a start, I guess.” He gestured to a chair placed closely to the desk. “Take a seat and give me the test. I’ll try to figure something out.”

Lie reluctantly sat, watching Peter scan through the pages. The way his brows furrowed in complete focus made Lie’s stomach twist, like Peter was able to see all of his failures through a single test.

“It’s not…the worst I’ve seen,” Peter said as he scanned over the last page.

Lie scoffed. “I got less than twenty percent.”

Peter paused, gently tapping a pen against his leg. “Okay, yeah, it’s pretty bad. But, the good thing is, it’s fixable.”

Lie nodded. “Oh. Okay. Where do I start with that?”

Peter put the test down on the desk, studying Lie rather than answering. “What do you like to do for fun, Lie?”

“What?”

“I feel like that’s a simple question to answer.”

Lie narrowed his eyes, not sure where Peter was going with this. “I don’t really see how that’s relevant.”

Peter shrugged. “Humor me.”

Lie hesitated before sighing. “Uh, well, I don’t know. I like video games? Specifically, like, puzzle games. Puzzles in general.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at the admission. “Perfect.”

"I’m confused.”

Peter huffed a quiet laugh before searching on his desk. He found a dry erase marker after a moment, twirling it effortlessly in his fingers as he walked to the whiteboard lining most of the wall at the end of the room. “Alright, hear me out,” Peter started as he scribbled down some equations. “Math, and physics by extension, is just one massive puzzle. Every equation, every problem, is just a big box of pieces dumped out in front of you. The key, however, is figuring out how they fit together.”

Lie raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t see it.”

Peter smirked. “That’s because you’re thinking of math as numbers instead of connections. Here, let me break it down for you.” He used the dry erase marker to point out a formula on the board. “I assure you that you know this one.”

Lie sighed. “Force equals mass times acceleration. Sure.”

“Exactly. Now, let’s treat it like a puzzle,” Peter continued. “You can’t just memorize that equation. You have to understand what it means. Think of force as one of the missing pieces to your puzzle. If you don’t know what it is yet, you can use the other pieces — mass and acceleration — to figure it out.”

He frowned, still unconvinced. “But what if I don’t know one of those?”

Peter grinned. “Good question! That’s when we look for more pieces. Maybe you weren’t directly given acceleration, but you were given velocity and time. And since acceleration is the change of velocity over time,” he paused, writing another formula, “boom, you have found another missing piece.” Peter tapped at his temple with the marker. “It’s all just one big puzzle. One piece leads to another until eventually you have the whole picture.”

Lie stared at the whiteboard, Peter’s words slowly clicking in his brain. “So you’re saying that instead of panicking when I can’t immediately see the answer, I should be thinking about what I can find and how to connect it?”

“Bingo.” Peter handed the midterm back to Lie. “Let’s get to work.”

Lie sighed, the bright red ink all over the pages making his stomach twist into knots. But still, Peter’s explanation planted a tiny seed of curiosity in his mind, and for once, Lie didn’t feel so hopeless. 

Peter took a seat in the cozy office chair in front of the desk, scooting just a bit closer to Lie before handing him a fresh copy of the test. “Here. It’ll be easier on you if we can ignore all the red.”

Lie thanked him before grabbing a pencil from his bag, tapping it against the desk as he reread problem one. “I am already stuck,” he admitted after a few moments.

Peter chuckled. “Try to walk me through your thought process.”

Lie huffed. “Okay, well, uh…” He read through the problem once more. “It gives me mass and velocity and it’s asking for force. But there’s no acceleration given.”

Peter hummed. “Alright, but remember we’re trying to find all of our pieces. What do we know about acceleration?”

Lie pursed his lips, considering the information. “That it’s the change in velocity over time…but I don’t have time either.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “This is miserable.”

“Physics is wonderful, actually,” Peter joked before pointing to the paper. “Look at the whole problem. What else does it give you?”

Lie glanced at the numbers again, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Distance?”

“Distance,” Peter repeated. “And what can we find if we have all of those pieces?”

Lie thought hard. “I can use one of the kinematics equations, right? Because I have velocity and distance? And then I can find everything else because I’ll have acceleration?”

“Nice job.”

Lie hesitated for just a moment, then scribbled out the equation. A minute later, he had what he needed, and from that force was just a step away. He double-checked his work before handing it to Peter.

Peter gave a nod of approval. “There you go. See? It gets a lot easier once you have an understanding of what you’re doing. Keep going, I’ll be right here if you have questions.”

Lie continued on to the next problem, his fingers tightening around the pencil as he moved on. He could do this, he just needs to treat it like a puzzle — one piece at a time.

But as he scribbled down the given values, he could feel Peter’s eyes watching him, watching closely, waiting to see if he would slip up.

Lie swallowed hard, the grip on his pencil becoming almost painful in mild frustration. It wasn’t just because of the tutoring — it was because it was Peter Parker, the genius, the golden boy of the science department, the kind of person who made the most difficult things seem absolutely effortless. And here he was, struggling to get through the most basic of physics while Peter sat there, twirling a pen in his hand like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And god, Lie hated to admit it, but he was starting to get why people couldn’t shut up about him.

He had heard the whispers, the casual remarks in class when Peter would take over for Dr. Richards, the way people would talk about him like some kind of legend — not just because he was smart, but because he had that thing about him. The kind of confidence that wasn’t obnoxious and in your face, just… natural. The way he carried himself, like he belonged anywhere he walked into, completely at ease in his own skin.

And now, sitting this close to him, Lie also had to face the undeniable truth: Peter was ridiculously good-looking.

The sharp angles of his jaw, the way his hair fell just slightly out of place but still looked perfect, the unfairly long eyelashes that framed his sharp brown eyes, the light dusting of freckles across his nose — Lie had spent all of ten minutes in a room with him and could see why half of campus tripped over themselves if he had so much breathed in their general direction.

Which was definitely not helping his frustration right now.

Lie dragged a hand down his face, hoping it would somehow smother the heat creeping up his neck. He needed to focus, needed to stop being so damn aware of every shift in Peter’s expression, of the little smirk that played at his lips whenever he caught Lie hesitating.

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, jolting Lie out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out, letting out a breath. “Just, uh, thinking.”

Peter hummed, tilting his head like he wasn’t fully convinced, but let it slide. “Alright. Just checking.”

Lie took a deep breath, returning back to the test with a newfound sense of determination. He would finish this, get out of here, and never think about Peter Parker’s stupidly nice face ever again.

—

Lie let out a sigh as he scribbled out the last problem, dropping his pencil like it physically burned him. He sat back, staring at the test in mild exhaustion.

“Alright,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “I think I’m done.”

Peter took the pages, scanning over them with that same laser focus that had been making Lie sweat for the past hour. Every furrow of his brows, every pause he took to really look at his work, made Lie’s stomach churn. He suddenly felt like he was waiting on a verdict, and the longer Peter stayed silent, the more unbearable it became.

Finally, Peter nodded, setting the test down. “It isn’t perfect but it's definitely an improvement.”

Lie exhaled in pure relief. “Okay. Great. Thanks for your help, really—” He scrambled to collect his things, already planning his escape, but Peter’s next words made his stomach drop.

“Yeah, no, we’re not done.”

Lie froze mid-motion, fingers still curled around his backpack strap. “I…what?”

Peter crossed his arms, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just delivered the worst news possible. “Look, fixing one test is great and all, but if you think you’ll actually pass Reed’s class without more of this, you’re kidding yourself.”

Lie’s brain short-circuited. More? More of this? Of this exact scenario where he was stuck in a room with Peter Parker, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Annoyingly Smart and Stupidly Good-Looking, while he fumbled over equations like an absolute idiot?

He couldn’t do that. He would die.

“I…I can just…I don’t know, study harder?” Lie tried weakly, panic creeping into his voice.

Peter arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah? And how has that been working out for you so far?”

Lie opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to argue, to insist that he could manage this on his own if he just focused, but that bright red F still burned in the back of his mind.

His heart pounded in his ears, and he wondered if it was loud enough that Peter could hear it, too.

Peter smirked as if he knew just exactly what kind of spiral Lie was throwing himself into. “If you’d like to bomb the final, be my guest. If not, then let’s make this into a regular thing.”

Lie felt the walls close in. “Regular?”

“Yup,” Peter said, popping the ‘p’ casually.

Lie slumped forward onto the desk, pressing his forehead against the wood as his entire body screamed to run. He could not do this. He could not spend any more time with Peter without possibly losing his mind.

But the alternative was never getting his degree.

“...Fine,” he croaked out, barely lifting his head from the desk.

“Great,” Peter said with a laugh, pulling out his phone. “What’s your phone number?”

“Why would you need that?” 

Peter shot him a quizzical look. “Because unless you’ve figured out telepathy, I need a way to actually contact you. You know, to set up sessions, send notes, remind you to actually study —”

Lie groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’re actually doing this, huh?”

Peter smirked. “Of course I am. Welcome to your new reality, buddy.”

With great reluctance and a dramatic sigh, Lie rattled off his phone number. Peter typed it in, then a second later, Lie’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“There,” Peter said, satisfied. “Now you can’t pretend you’ve lost my number, either.”

Lie scowled, somehow falling into Peter’s trap he didn’t realize was there, pulling out his phone to see the message from the unknown number.

718-555-XXXX : congrats on your new personal physics babysitter. please use him wisely.

He groaned again, shoving the device back into his pocket like that would somehow erase the entire situation. “This is easily the worst day of my life.”

Peter laughed, standing and stretching in a way that was entirely unfair to Lie’s nervous system. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve had worse.”

Lie dragged himself up from the chair, gripping his backpack strap like it was a lifeline. “Not a lot could beat this,” he muttered under his breath.

Peter just shot him an infuriatingly amused grin. “See you next time, Lie.”

Lie muttered something unintelligible and all but sprinted out the door, already dreading whatever fresh hell he just signed himself up for.

He needed air. He needed space. He needed Luna to tell him that this wasn’t actually happening, that he hadn’t agreed to spending an indefinite amount of time with Peter Parker.

The moment he stepped outside, he yanked out his phone and called her. It barely rang twice before she picked up.

“Did you die?” she asked immediately.

“Not yet,” Lie grumbled, weaving his way through the quad. “But I might. Where are you?”

“Library. Second floor.”

“Stay there.” He hung up without another word, making a beeline across campus.

By the time he reached the library, he was gripping the strap of his backpack like a stress ball. He bounded up the stairs and scanned the floor, eyes eventually landing on Luna tucked away at one of the study tables, earbuds in, lazily flipping through the pages of a textbook on thermodynamic properties. She didn’t even look up at him when he dropped into the chair across from her.

“So,” she started, casually turning a page. “How’d it go with the campus golden boy?”

Lie whined, slumping further into his seat. “Luna, I have made a terrible mistake.”

That finally got her attention. She pulled out her earbuds, gently putting them back into the case. “Elaborate.”

“I agreed to more tutoring.”

Luna snorted. “Uh, yeah, no shit. That was kind of the whole point of even meeting with him.”

“No, Luna, you don’t understand. ” He sat up, voice lowering as if someone might overhear. “He’s making me spend more time with him. He has my number. He’s going to text me. He’s going to check in on me. I—” he paused, holding his head dramatically in his hands. “I’m never going to escape him.”

Luna stared at him for a long, painfully slow second. Then, a knowing smirk stretched across her face. “You’re into him.”

“No!” Lie yelled, immediately being shushed for his outburst. “No,” he repeated, voice quieter. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Then what is it like, Lie?”

Lie groaned, shoving his hands into the air. “Luna, he’s Peter Parker. He’s perfect at everything. And he’s a really good teacher. And he has that…that face…”

Luna cackled. “Wow, you’re that down bad already.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she quipped, leaning back in her seat. “Listen, I know you’re terrified because he’s basically a god and you’re, y’know, you —”

“Thanks,” Lie interrupted, frowning.

“But,” she continued, “you’ve got two options here.” She held up two fingers. “One, you could suffer through his tutoring, get better at physics, and then pass the class. Two, you could run away, fail the final, then potentially lose out on any hope of finding your dad.”

Lie’s frown deepened. “That’s an awful way of framing my choices.”

“I’m just being honest.” She popped her earbuds back in her ears, her focus returning to the textbook in front of her. “Besides, this benefits the both of us.”

“Oh?” Lie squinted at her. “How exactly does this benefit you? ”

“Because I get to hear you experience your gay panic for the first time since we’ve been friends-which is extremely entertaining, by the way– and I get to tease you about it every chance I get.”

Lie groaned, dropping his head onto the table in front of him with a soft thud. “So, what? You’re going to use me as some form of entertainment while I suffer?”

Luna shrugged. “Not like much else is entertaining around here.”

He lifted his head to glare at her. “You’re evil.”

“And yet, I’m still your best friend.” She gently patted his arm with her hand. “Face it, sunshine; you need this. You get to pass physics, and you get to spend time with someone who might actually make learning enjoyable for you.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Among other things.”

“Please shut up.”

“No.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Fine, whatever. I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” she beamed. “Now, go be a good student and get tutored by your ridiculously attractive science god.”

Lie scoffed at the comment. “You’re the worst.”

—

Lie had tried — really tried — to avoid Peter after their first session despite the conversation with Luna.

But Peter Parker made that absolutely impossible.

The tutoring sessions became routine faster than he expected. Twice a week, sometimes more if Dr. Richards assigned a brutal homework set, Peter would text him, telling him to come to his office. And, much to Lie’s dismay, Peter was not the type to take no for an answer — if Lie tried to bail, Peter would just somehow show up wherever he was, textbook in hand, giving him an expectant look that made it very clear that he wasn’t getting out of this.

He started to find himself in that tiny office more often than his own dorm, hunched over problem sets, muttering equations under his breath while Peter leaned over his shoulder, pointing out his mistakes and nudging him in the right direction.

At first, Lie thought that maybe Peter was doing all of this out of obligation — that he owed Dr. Richards a favor and just couldn’t say no. But the more time they spent together, the harder it was to keep believing that.

Because Peter cared.

He could tell in the texts. Peter always asked if he was doing okay, if he was getting enough rest, if he was eating properly. He could tell in the way Peter was during their study sessions, the way he would be genuinely pleased when Lie got something right, or sitting there and working through a problem with him, refusing to give up until he understood.

It didn’t make any sense.

Why would he care so much? Why did it matter to him whether or not Lie passed? Lie found himself studying Peter just as much as he studied his notes, searching for an answer that wouldn’t show; instead, the things he discovered were tiny cracks in Peter’s otherwise perfect exterior.

Like the way his fingers anxiously tapped against his desk when he wasn’t explaining anything. Or how his leg bounced when he thought Lie wasn’t looking. Or how he’d start a sentence with all the confidence of someone who knew everything, only to pause, backtrack, and mumble, “ Wait, no, that's not right. Hold on. ”

Lie had spent so much time convinced that Peter Parker was some untouchable prodigy, but the more he watched, the more he realized that wasn’t true. Peter was smart — probably the smartest person he had ever met — but he wasn’t this perfect person everyone made him out to be. He second-guessed himself. He got frustrated. He lost track of time so often that Lie had to remind him to actually eat if their sessions ran on too long.

And the biggest crack of all? Peter looked exhausted.

It wasn’t obvious unless you were really paying attention, but the two of them spent enough time together that Lie started to notice. The shadows under his eyes, his shoulders tensing whenever his phone vibrated, the way he would disappear for a few moments to answer calls in hushed tones before coming back looking even more drained than before.

Lie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this realization.

He told himself to leave it alone. That it wasn’t a puzzle for him to solve.

It only took another two study sessions before Lie finally snapped.

Peter was explaining a particularly annoying kinematics problem, tapping his pen absentmindedly against his desk, when Lie blurted out, “Why are you doing this?”

Peter stopped mid-sentence, tilting his head in confusion. “What?”

“This.” Lie gestured vaguely to the work in front of him before crossing his arms. “Most people would just give me a worksheet and tell me to figure it out. You’re actually trying. Why?”

Peter didn’t answer right away. He spun the pen in his fingers, gaze dropping to the textbook between them. “Is it weird that I do?”

“Yes.”

Peter huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Glad to know I’m a freak for wanting my student to succeed.”

“That’s not—” Lie groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re — you’re a grad student . I know you have your own work, your own research. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how exhausted you are. You don’t have time for this, yet you’re still here. So, what’s your deal? You can’t just be doing this out of the kindness of your own heart.”

Peter hummed. “And if I told you I was?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

Peter clicked the pen against the desk a few times, his usual confidence dimming just a little. He let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“Because this?” he said as he gestured between the two of them. “This is easy.”

Lie frowned. “You call this easy? You look dead on your feet half the time.”

Peter let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well, burning the candle at both ends is kind of my thing.” He tapped the pen against the desk. “But helping you? Teaching? It’s not the same kind of pressure as everything else I have going on.”

Lie tilted his head at the admission. “How?”

Peter shrugged. “There’s no high stakes here. No company or world-ending consequences if I get something wrong. It’s just…math. Stuff I know I can handle. And personally, if I can help you make it through this class, that’s worth more to me than anything else because I’ll know I’m doing at least one thing in my life right.”

Lie sat for a moment, watching Peter closely. There was something heavy beneath the words, something unspoken, and for the first time, Lie wondered just how much weight Peter was carrying that no one else seemed to notice. He wanted to ask, to pry a bit further, but decided against it.

“That’s kind of messed up,” he said, finally.

Peter snorted. “Maybe. But it’s the truth.”

Lie shifted in his seat, unsure of what to do with this new side of Peter he had uncovered. He glanced at his notes, feeling the weight of the conversation settle around them.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not sure what else to say.

Peter smiled, tired but genuine. “Anytime.”

—

Their study sessions turned into a daily thing.

They were strictly academic, at first — textbooks, whiteboards, and Peter pushing Lie to think rather than panic. But at some point, without either of them really acknowledging it, they started bleeding into something else.

Peter would get distracted mid-problem, going off on a rant about some obscure science fact that had nothing to do with the material, and Lie would listen even though he didn’t understand. Then Lie would make some off-hand comment about a movie he enjoyed, and Peter would actually engage rather than get them back on track, debating with him on whether or not Pacific Rim was peak cinema (it was–Peter was wrong). Before long, Lie found himself staying in Peter’s office hours after they had finished studying, talking about things that had absolutely nothing to do with physics, and somehow, they became the highlight of his day.

Because over time, Peter started to look less stressed out.

The tight line between his brows, the constant anxious energy thrumming under his skin — it all seemed to ease the longer they sat there, conversations drifting further and further away from the reason Lie was there in the first place. His shoulders would relax, his smile would linger, and sometimes, if Lie was lucky, he’d catch Peter looking at him like he was thankful he stayed.

One afternoon, after a session that was more conversation than learning, they somehow ended up at the campus cafe. Peter had casually mentioned needing more caffeine to get through the rest of the day, and rather than going their separate ways like usual, they just…went together.

Lie sipped his coffee, eyeing Peter over the rim of his cup. “What else do you do besides forcing me to suffer through your company?”

Peter smirked, leaning back in his chair. “ Suffer ? Ouch. Here I was thinking you were finally enjoying it.”

Lie snorted. “You’re avoiding the question.”

Peter hummed, tilting his cup. “I do normal things, I guess.”

“I feel like my definition of normal and yours don’t exactly match up.”

That made Peter laugh. “I promise you, they do. I work on my research, spend time with friends, occasionally sleep when I remember that it’s a thing I have to do. There isn’t much else to me.”

Lie squinted at him, unconvinced. “You say that like you're the most boring person in the world when I have a feeling that you’re anything but.”

Peter bit his lip, only halfway holding back a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that right? And what makes you so sure of that?”

Lie crossed his arms before leaning back in the chair. “Because while I’m very aware you aren’t perfect, the guy who makes half of the campus stop and stare cannot be boring. Have you seen how people are looking at us right now? I’m honestly starting to get uncomfortable.” He tilted his head, studying Peter carefully. “I feel like there’s more to you, but I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Then you would be mistaken,” Peter remarked, tapping his fingers against the smooth surface of the table. “There’s no wild hidden secret, nothing earth shatteringly interesting about me. I’m just Peter.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“And I think you’re believing too strongly in everyone else's preconceived ideas of me,” Peter said, finishing his coffee with a final, almost defiant swallow. There was an edge to his voice, a quiet frustration, one Lie wasn’t used to hearing from him — not directed at him necessarily, but at some bigger, more concerning issue.

He didn’t look at Lie, too caught up in the shifting colors outside, as if they were the glue keeping him together in this moment. But the set of his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped nervously against his knee, gave him away; this was the most vulnerable Lie had seen him.

Lie sat frozen, his own half-finished drink depleting in warmth in front of him. The weight behind Peter’s words — the soft, aching honesty in them — settled somewhere deep in his chest, leaving an unfamiliar kind of heaviness. One that felt equal parts revelation and regret.

Because this, he realized, was Peter telling him that he didn’t want any of this. Not the admiration, not the awe, not the pedestal so many others had built beneath his feet. Peter was giving him something instead – a glimpse at the flaws beneath the brilliance, the true feelings tucked behind every perfect answer. Peter Parker, untangled from the expectations. Stripped bare of reputation, of legend.

Lie’s throat felt tight, his fingers curling reflexively around the cup, as if grounding himself. He replayed the moments they’d spent together in his head — the teasing, the playful debates, and all the hours spent in comfortable silence simply because neither of them wanted to leave. Despite the distance Lie had tried to put between them, Peter had somehow whittled it away into a familiarity that Lie was no longer scared of. Because Peter didn’t just want Lie to see him.

He wanted Lie to choose to see him.

Not the genius. Not the prodigy. Not the Peter Parker everyone whispered about in classrooms and hallways. Just the man who drank too much coffee, who got fixated on tangents about science and how it worked, who was absolutely brilliant but undeniably human.

Just Peter.

“I’m sorry,” Lie admitted after a while. “You’re right; I was so caught up in what I thought I knew about you that I didn’t see… you .””

Peter’s fingers stilled against his knee, his gaze still fixed on the window, but something in his posture softened, like a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding finally eased out.

“It’s not your fault,” Peter said quietly. “I’m so used to people seeing what they want, I stopped expecting anyone to look any further.” His lips curved into something just short of a real smile. “But thank you.” 

Lie let out a breath, some of the tension easing from his own shoulders. “I’m not always the best at noticing things.” His fingers traced the rim of his cup absently. “But I understand now. Or, at least, I’m trying to.”

Peter turned then, really looking at him, his expression softening.

“I can work with that,” Peter said softly.

The corner of Lie’s mouth lifted. “Good.”

Peter stood, the scrape of his chair grounding them back into reality. “Come on.” His hand lingering a beat longer than necessary on the back of his chair before he moved to toss his cup into the trash.

Lie only stared for just a moment before following Peter’s lead, walking out of the cafe and onto campus. The two of them walked in tandem, Peter glancing over at him, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You heading back to your dorm soon? Or do you have more classes?” he asked after a moment, voice casual.

Lie paused briefly, not expecting the question. “I was planning on going back home, yeah.”

Peter shifted his weight as he glanced around the empty campus, the quiet evening air making the whole place feel different than usual. “You mind if I walk you there? It would do me some good to get some fresh air.”

Lie hesitated at the offer, unsure of what to make of it. He didn’t want to read too much into it, convincing himself that it was Peter being his usual helpful self and nothing more. Even so, he couldn’t ease the feeling of pure excitement in being able to spend more time with him and leave behind the uneasy atmosphere from the cafe.

“Sure,” he answered after a moment.

Peter fell into step with Lie with a smile, the two of them talking about everything and nothing, the calm atmosphere of campus making their conversation feel softer, more unguarded, like Peter was finally starting to act like himself.

Lie found himself stealing glances at Peter as they walked, catching the way the lamplight illuminated his features, how his expression shifted between thoughtful and amused depending on the topic. It was a certain kind of easy talking to Peter like this — like they were no longer student and tutor, or two people that were supposed to exist in entirely different circles. It felt… right. 

As they reached Lie’s dorm, Peter slowed, rubbing the back of his neck like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Lie opened his mouth – he wanted to encourage him to speak whatever was on his mind – but before he could, Peter just smiled, a small, tired thing. “Get some rest, Lie.”

Lie felt his pulse stutter at the quiet sincerity of his voice. “Yeah. You too.”

Peter gave a lazy two-finger salute before turning away, disappearing down the path towards what Lie could only assume was his own residence. 

Lie stood there for a moment, staring after him, his heart a complete mess inside his chest. Peter had trusted him, closed the gap that Lie had tried to keep between them, and he couldn’t help but feel like he wanted someone to see him like that, too. And his stomach dropped at the realization that maybe…he wanted that someone to be Peter. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in Luna’s room, wide eyed.

“I think I’m falling in love with Peter Parker.”

—

Over the next few weeks, things between Lie and Peter shifted. There wasn’t any obvious change to the people around them, but for Lie, the change was undeniable. It was there in the way Peter always seemed to sit just a little closer than necessary, elbows brushing, knees bumping, neither of them ever apologizing for it.

It was in the way their study sessions stretched long past the point of productivity, their conversations wandering off into places neither of them ever planned for: dreams, half-baked ideas, the kind of thoughts you only shared when the world felt small and quiet enough to hold them.

Lie didn’t question it. Not really. Maybe he should have, should have tried to put a name to whatever this was between them, some clear label that would make it all make sense and ease his mind. But the truth was, he liked it too much to risk ruining it.

He liked the way Peter always lingered after their meetings, like leaving was the last thing on his mind. He liked how Peter always found some excuse, any excuse, to text him first, even if it was something as dumb as “ do you think the library’s haunted? serious question. ”

He liked how their walks across campus kept getting longer, how they’d start out heading to one destination and somehow end up three blocks in the opposite direction, wrapped up in some conversation that neither of them wanted to cut short. He liked the warmth in Peter’s voice when he said his name.

He liked being with Peter Parker.

So Lie let things stay in this strange, undefined place — this quiet, wonderful something that lived between them. If Peter noticed the way Lie’s smile lingered a little longer, or how he always leaned in just a fraction closer than he needed to, he didn’t say anything.

He just kept showing up.

He kept making Lie laugh those real, unguarded laughs that cracked through even the worst days. He kept bumping their shoulders together when they walked, kept looking at Lie like there was something about him Peter had never quite figured out, but wanted to — badly.

And every time Peter looked at him like that, Lie’s stomach twisted itself into impossible knots, all sharp-edged hope and breathless uncertainty. But he would never ask. Never push.

But when finals week came crashing down on both of them, suddenly, the ease they had fallen into was overshadowed by stress and exhaustion.

They sat in Peter’s office late one evening, surrounded by notes and textbooks and coffee that had gone cold hours ago. Peter let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Alright, we’ve gone over everything at least twice now. The final is tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

Lie tapped his pen against the desk, staring down at the problem set still in front of him. “Like I’m about to experience the biggest failure of my life so far.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “A little dramatic.”

Lie shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’m being serious. I know I’ve improved, but that doesn’t mean I won’t blank the second I see the test.”

Peter leaned forward on the desk, resting his chin on his palm with that same soft smile that made Lie’s heart beat faster. “I don’t think you will.”

Lie only rolled his eyes, his focus going back to the practice exam Peter had given him. A comfortable silence fell over the two of them while they worked, broken only by the occasional scratch of a pencil against paper or the rustling of pages. It had become a source of comfort for Lie, the kind of silence that only came with the ease of having spent so much time together.

After a while, Peter leaned back in his chair with a yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. “Can I ask you a question?”

Lie groaned. “Is it physics related?”

Peter let out a chuckle. “No. Well, yes? Kind of. Not really.”

“You’re losing me here, Pete.”

“How do you feel about parties?” Peter asked after a beat or two of silence.

That was definitely not what he thought he was going to be asked. “I, uh, well…” Lie paused. Parties were most definitely not his thing. They’re too loud, too crowded, too…much. “Why exactly are you asking?” he tried, gauging Peter’s reasoning for such an odd question.

“MJ hosts an after finals party every semester. It’s kind of a tradition. And I sorta…,” his voice trailed off, a look of hesitation crossing his face before he continued, “wanted to have you there as my plus one?”

Lie’s brain stopped working.

He stared at Peter, waiting for some kind of clarification, for some kind of teasing grin that would tell him that he was joking. But Peter just held his gaze, shifting slightly in his seat as if he were nervous for the answer.

Nervous.

“You—” Lie cleared his throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how dry it had gotten. “You want me to go? With you?”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “Well, yeah. Kind of. I sort of had a feeling that you might say no, but I figured I would ask anyway.”

Peter wants Lie to go to a party. With him. Not just any party, but a party thrown by one of Peter’s closest friends where the rest of Peter’s inner circle would be.

He could throw up.

“There’s kind of…a catch, though?” Peter continued. “You sort of have to pass all your finals. It’s how the tradition started.”

Lie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping his frustration wouldn’t be too noticeable. All would be perfectly fine…if it didn’t include physics. “You’re joking, right?”

Peter shook his head and let out a short laugh. “I wish I was. But hey, now you can think of it as motivation.”

Lie exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself at the offer. Peter wanted him to go. Peter wanted him to be his plus one. Peter wanted him there, wanted him to meet the people he cared about in his life, wanted him to be a part of that version of his world. But if and only if he was able to accomplish the impossible task that was responsible for making him fall in love with Peter Parker.

His heart could beat out of his chest if it wanted to.

“And if I fail?” Lie asked, mostly to distract himself.

Peter only smiled. “You won’t.”

—

The morning of the final, Lie was a bit worse for wear.

He had spent the night after leaving Peter’s office doing nothing but studying in his room, his brain running through every worst-case scenario — What if he blanked at the first question? What if all of the information Peter had poured into his brain just disappeared after waking up? What if Dr. Richards personally designed his test in order to ruin him? — and his anxiety only ramped up the closer he got to the lecture hall.

He went to his seat, his leg bouncing in anticipation as he stared at the back of the test placed on each desk.

Dr. Richards scanned the room, eyes landing on Lie for far longer than he would have liked, before allowing them to begin. And with that, he flipped over the test. It was only two questions, and where he would usually feel that sense of dread wash over him at such a thing, he instead only felt a sense of clarity.

His pencil glided over the paper, filling in equations before his mind even had time to second-guess itself. It was almost unnerving how easily everything fell into place. He could practically hear Peter’s voice in his head as he worked, with that easy tone that made everything sound so simple. Minutes passed, then an hour. Some students had their heads in their hands, others chewed on the ends of their pencils in frustration. But Lie? He was finishing the final equation.

When he placed his pencil down, he expected to feel a wave of uncertainty, the usual gnawing doubt that he had somehow missed something crucial. But all he felt was relief.

He exhaled, long and slow, before gathering his things. As he handed his test to Dr. Richards, he could tell that the professor was a little surprised.

“Finished already?” the professor asked, giving the test a quick glance before looking back up at Lie with a raised brow.

Lie swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”

The professor hummed, clicking the red pen in his hand. “Confident, are we?”

That was the thing — he was. It was unfamiliar, but it was there. A quiet certainty that settled in his chest, telling him that he did everything exactly how he was taught.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Lie said, offering a small smile before turning to leave.

The moment he stepped outside into the crisp near winter air, the weight of the past few weeks seemed to lift off of his shoulders, and it felt so good to no longer feel like he was drowning. He made his way back to his dorm to allow himself to breathe without the constant pressure of deadlines and impossible expectations.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he found himself already knowing exactly who it would be.

peter : sooooooooooo.

peter : how’d it go?

Lie rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

lie : you’re seriously impatient

peter : that’s not an answer. >:(

He let out a slow breath, thumb hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed out the words.

lie : i’m pretty sure i passed

A beat passed before Peter’s response came through.

peter : KNEW IT

peter : guess that means you’re officially coming to mj’s party. :) 

Lie stopped walking. The test had taken up so much space in his mind that Peter’s offer barely registered with him while in the moment. But now, standing in the cold air with Peter’s message staring back at him, it hit him like a freight train.

He was going.

To a party.

With Peter.

He started walking again, his heart stammering against his ribs.

lie : sort of forgot about that

peter : don’t worry, you have two days to mentally prepare yourself.

lie : that is not as reassuring as you think it is

peter : you act like i’m throwing you to the wolves.

lie : are you not??

peter : …okay, maybe i am. but they’re nice wolves. friendly wolves.

Lie rolled his eyes at the message, shoving his phone back into his pocket before he could spiral any further. Two days. Two whole days to prepare himself for a social event he had no business attending.

When he got back to his dorm, he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Anticipating the party itself was a nerve wracking experience, but he was even more worried by what this whole thing meant. Peter invited him. Not just as some casual friend saying hey you should come have fun with us, but as his plus one. As if they were…something.

Were they something? 

Lie exhaled sharply, rolling over to smother his face in his pillow as the thought lodged itself fully in his mind.

Something.

The word felt ridiculous when applied to him. It felt like trying on clothes that didn’t fit, something meant for someone else. For someone cooler, or smarter, or better in every possible way. Not him. Not the guy who could barely string together a sentence without overthinking it, not the guy who constantly needed Peter to talk him off the ledge when his own brain turned against him. Not the guy who could barely look Peter in the eye sometimes without his pulse going haywire.

It made no sense. Why would Peter ever want him?

Lie flipped onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face, frustration curling tight in his chest. It wasn’t even just about the party. It was the way Peter had been lately: softer, warmer, always finding reasons to touch him, always texting first, always making Lie feel like he was worth something. Like Peter actually wanted him around.

And that was the part Lie couldn’t wrap his head around. Peter could have anyone. He was brilliant, funny, the kind of person everyone was naturally drawn to. Why would someone like that ever settle for him?

Because that’s what it would feel like. Settling. Lie couldn’t imagine a world where he was anyone’s first choice, let alone Peter Parker’s.

And yet…

And yet, Peter was always there. Smiling at him like he was someone worth looking at. Listening to his tangents about mythology and history like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Making Lie feel — god, feel — things he didn’t even know how to name.

The wanting was almost too much sometimes, lodged so firmly in his chest it ached. But wanting wasn’t the same as believing, and believing that Peter could want him back was too much to hope for.

Lie let out a groan, dragging the pillow over his face like that could block out the thoughts spiraling in his head.

He was going to lose his mind.

—

The next day, the passing grade was posted — well, the only one mattered. With this confirmation that he would be Peter’s plus one, Luna dragged him on an emergency shopping trip, completely disregarding his protests.

“You will not wear your usual hoodie and call it a day,” she scolded, sifting through racks of clothes with a critical eye.

Lie stared down at the forest green fabric he was wearing, frowning. “What’s wrong with my hoodie?”

Luna shot him a flat look, holding up a sleek button-down shirt that was very much not an old hoodie. “Lie, I say this with love, but I genuinely wish I could burn that thing.”

Lie pouted dramatically. “Harsh.”

“Realistic,” she corrected as she shoved the button down toward him.

Grumbling under his breath, he took the shirt and kept following her as she moved through the store like a woman on a mission. Every few moments, she’d hold up another option, appraising him with a calculating squint before either tossing it into his arms or putting it back with a disapproving shake of her head.

“This is unnecessary,” he muttered, shifting under the pile of clothes she had forced on him.

“Wrong,” Luna countered. “You’re going to a party as the Peter Parker’s plus one. You need to make an entrance.”

“He’s not…” Lie considered the way she’d said it, knowing Peter himself would hate it. The Peter Parker. “Peter isn’t a – a god, or a celebrity, or something. He’s just a guy.”

Luna took in the sincerity of his expression, and a knowing smile lit her features. “Okay, fine,” she amended. “ Peter . Just a guy. But… a guy you wanna look good for, right?”

Lie felt his entire body heat up at that, nearly dropping the clothes in his arms. “Luna.”

“What?” she said, feigning innocence as she plucked another shirt from a rack. “I’m just saying, if you’re going to pine, you might as well look nice doing it.”

“I am not pining,” he hissed, glancing around as if someone might overhear their very embarrassing conversation.

Luna gave him a look. “Right.” She shoved the shirt at him. “Go try these on.”

Lie scowled but did as he was told, trudging towards the fitting rooms. He closed the door behind him and set the clothes down before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hoodie was wrinkled, his hair spiking in a thousand different directions from messing with it all day, and he looked nearly as nervous as he felt. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe all of this was necessary.

With a sigh, he pulled the hoodie over his head and reached for the button down. The fabric was smooth and crisp, the deep blue contrasting nicely with his skin as he pulled it on. It fit perfectly, hugging his athletic frame in such a way that showed off the bit of muscle he had. He rolled the sleeves at the end up to expose his wrists, and left the top two buttons undone to show just enough of his collarbone to leave him feeling a little exposed. He added a pair of dark charcoal pants, slim-fitting but not too tight, striking the perfect balance between casual and refined. They sat comfortably on his hips, accentuating his frame without making him feel overdressed.

He stared at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair to tame the wild mess it had become, as if that would somehow make this situation feel any less surreal. He looked…different. The tailored fit made him look effortlessly composed, like this was planned all along rather than an impromptu shopping trip with his best friend. Like he was actually put together and not just winging it like he had been for years. Like he belonged in the company of people Peter spent time with.

A sharp knock at the fitting room door pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Lie,” Luna’s voice sing-songed, impatience dripping from her tone. “Come on. I wanna see my masterpiece.”

He sighed, bracing himself before he stepped out.

Luna’s eyes widened the moment she saw him, and then, slowly, a smug grin spread across her face. She crossed her arms, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Oh,” she said, dragging the word out as she circled Lie like a cat admiring her prey, “Peter is not ready for this.”

Lie rolled his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being right ,” she corrected. Then, after a second of thought, she tugged at his sleeves, rolling them up to expose just a bit more skin. “There. Even hotter. See what happens when you don’t hide your muscle under that awful piece of fabric?”

“Leave me and my hoodie alone.”

Luna only smiled, stepping back to admire her work. “Nope. Not happening. You look too good for me to let you retreat back into that safety blanket of yours.”

Lie sighed, shifting in place as he caught his reflection once again. He barely recognized himself. 

“This is too much,” Lie muttered. “What if—”

Luna clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. Even. Start.” She gave him a pointed look before letting him go. “You’re going to this party. You’re going to enjoy time with Peter. You’re going to look hot as hell while doing it. Stop second-guessing everything.”

—

The next day passed by in a blur, mostly consumed by Luna making sure he looked perfect, and before he knew it, he was standing outside the door to Mary Jane and Peter’s shared apartment. He could hear the faint hum of music — not the loud, thumping bass he had been dreading, but something softer, something more laid-back. There were voices, too, but none of the overwhelming chaos he had imagined. He let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself. This wasn’t some wild, out of control party like he had seen in movies. This was manageable. 

He knocked gently on the door, bracing himself before it swung open.

Instead of Peter, Lie was met with the bright, curious eyes of Mary Jane Watson. She took one look at him before a slow, delighted smile spread across her face. “Peter didn’t tell me you were this cute,” she said, leaning against the doorframe.

Lie felt his brain short-circuit. “I…huh?”

Peter appeared behind her less than a second later, looking vaguely alarmed. “MJ—”

Mary Jane ignored him completely, her smile turning into a full-on grin. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Lie! Peter has not shut up about you.”

Lie watched as Peter’s eyes widened with the statement. “She’s exaggerating,” he quickly defended.

“I am not. ” She gave Lie a conspiratorial wink before stepping aside. “Come on in. Drinks are in the kitchen, music’s good, and I promise none of my friends bite.” Then, after a pause, she smirked. “Well, except maybe Peter—”

Peter let out a garbled screech, pushing her away from the two of them towards the kitchen, Mary Jane laughing the whole way. Lie exhaled as he stepped inside, a laugh escaping him despite how awkward he felt before finding a quiet corner. Peter returned after a moment, two drinks in hand, offering one to Lie.

Lie quickly took a sip, shuddering at the entirely too low alcohol-to-mixer ratio. “Is this supposed to kill me?” he joked.

“I would never kill my favorite student,” Peter mused. “I figured it would help ease your nerves.”

The music thrummed softly in the background, and people talked and laughed around them, but none of it felt suffocating like Lie had feared. Maybe it was the alcohol slowly unwinding his bundle of nerves like Peter suggested, but this was nice. Something he could get used to.

“Sorry about her,” Peter offered after a while, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t be,” Lie teased lightly. “You should hear Luna. I’m sure those two would make fast friends.”

A silence fell over them, and Lie finally noticed how antsy Peter seemed to be. His fingers tapped the side of his cup, he was shifting from foot to foot, and not once did he really look at Lie. He looked everywhere else instead, eyes darting back and forth between something in the distance and the floor.

“You okay?” Lie asked, a slight tilt to his head.

That seemed to snap Peter out of whatever trance he was in, because his gaze finally landed on Lie and—

Oh.

Something flickered in Peter’s expression, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something but then promptly forgot how words worked. His eyes glanced over Lie — quick, almost imperceptible, but there — before he let out a breath and ducked his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Great, even.” He paused, a hint of red flushing his cheeks as he gave Lie a small, sheepish smile. “Just, uh…really glad you came.”

Lie felt his stomach twist in a way that was definitely not unpleasant. He cleared his throat, trying to act like that didn’t just make his heart do something stupid. “Couldn’t have made it here without you,” he whispered, mostly to himself, as he took another drink.

Peter let out a short, breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess not, no. I do feel like I sorta forced this on you, though.”

Lie shook his head immediately, gaze lingering on Peter’s flushed face. “You didn’t force me.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, softer, “I wanted to come.”

Peter’s eyes snapped up to his, wide and a bit startled, before his expression softened into something almost unreadable. He looked like he wanted to say something — something important — but before he could, Mary Jane’s voice cut through the air.

“Parker! Could you quit hogging your date and introduce him to everyone?”

Lie choked on the air he was breathing. Peter nearly dropped his drink.

“ MJ ,” Peter whined, his entire face going red as he turned towards her. She only grinned knowingly at him before disappearing into another room.

Lie, still coughing, managed to rasp, “Date, huh?”

Peter made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and another whine. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Lie took another, much larger, sip of his drink. His heart was racing, and judging by the way Peter kept sneaking glances at him as he was led to Mary Jane’s living room, maybe — just maybe — his was, too.

Peter sat on a couch lining one wall of the room, patting the seat next to him for Lie to sit. As he sat, Lie suddenly felt like he was about to be examined under a microscope by the amount of people now staring at him.

“Everyone,” Peter said after a deep breath, “this is Lie.”

Mary Jane, cozied up on her couch under a blanket, smirked. “We’re all so excited to meet the guy you’ve been talking about for weeks .”

Lie’s eyebrows shot up, looking at Peter who now looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“That is not —I mean, I may have mentioned you a few times—” Peter stopped, sighed, and dragged a hand down his face. “Whatever. You guys suck.”

“It’s nice to have a face to the name,” a guy with glasses and a friendly smile said, extending a hand. “Harry.”

One by one, Peter’s friends introduced themselves — Gwen, Miles, Tyrone, Tandy, Ned — and before he knew it, he was talking with them like he belonged there.

“So, Lie, what’s your major?” Gwen asked after some light conversation, leaning forward on the coffee table with genuine curiosity.

“Archaeology,” Lie responded.

There was a brief pause before Ned let out a low whistle. “Wow, that’s way cooler than I expected.”

Miles laughed. “What, you think he was just another physics or engineering nerd?”

“I mean, look who he’s hanging out with,” Tyrone said, nodding towards Peter, the motion earning a playful shove from Tandy.

Peter scoffed. “Wow. Rude.”

Lie smirked at his reaction before shrugging. “I guess it isn’t the most common major around here.”

“Why’d you choose it, then?” Gwen asked.

Lie hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of his cup lightly. Bringing up his missing family wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed doing, but something about this group made him feel…safe.

“My dad was a professor of archaeology,” he said. “One of the best, from what I’ve been told. He traveled a lot, made a lot of really cool discoveries. He’d tell me about them whenever he’d come home. Made me fall in love with puzzles and mysteries like those.”

“That’s really amazing,” Mary Jane said. “Is he still teaching?”

Lie shook his head. “No. He disappeared years ago along with my brother.”

The energy in the room shifted slightly, not awkward, but heavier.

“You mean like…” Harry trailed off, unsure of how to word it.

“Like gone, ” Lie clarified. “No one knows what happened. One day they were working on a site, the next, they were just gone. No trace, no explanation.” He let out a small breath. “I guess I figured, if I followed in his footsteps, maybe I could find something. A clue, a reason, anything.”

Peter, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke. “You never told me that.”

Lie glanced at him. “It never really came up.”

Peter’s gaze lingered on him, something unreadable in his expression.

“Well,” Gwen said after a moment, offering a soft, encouraging smile, “if anyone can figure something like that out, it’d be an archaeology major.”

The tension eased a little, the conversation shifting into something lighter, but Peter’s eyes stayed on Lie just a little bit longer than usual.

The night stretched on, the energy slowly mellowing out even more as people trickled out or settled into quieter conversations. The music had softened, and the apartment now held a more subdued, intimate atmosphere. 

Lie still sat on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with an empty cup in his hands, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on the rim. Peter still sat beside him, cross-legged, knee touching him just enough to be noticeable but not enough to make a big deal out of it. The warmth of the touch grounded Lie more than he’d like to admit. For a while, neither of them spoke, just listening to the faint chatter in the background. It was nice. Comfortable.

Peter was the first to break the silence. “So,” he started, keeping his voice low, as if not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, “you ever think about where you’d start looking?”

Lie turned toward him, resting his head on his hand. “For what?”

“For answers,” Peter said, tilting his head. “About your family.”

Lie hummed, turning the empty cup over in his free hand. “I’ve looked before. Archives, old university records, even tried reaching out to some old colleagues. No one ever really had anything concrete. And I can’t exactly go to the site myself without the proper training and clearance, so…”

Peter frowned. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Lie muttered. “Tell me about it.”

“Well,” Peter whispered, inching a bit closer to Lie, his warmth getting harder to ignore, “if you ever decide to go full Indiana Jones with the whole thing, I wouldn’t mind helping you out. Like a sidekick.”

Lie huffed a laugh. “You? A sidekick?”

Peter grinned. “Okay, as your co-adventurer. Better?”

Lie only smiled, shaking his head at such a suggestion. “You are so strange.”

The conversation lulled again, the quiet settling into them in a way that didn’t feel awkward. Lie’s fingers still toyed with the rim of the cup, but his mind was elsewhere — on Peter; more specifically, on the way he was looking at him, like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’ve got a look,” Lie whispered.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What look?”

“The one you tend to get before you say or do something stupid.”

Peter let out a quiet laugh, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he shifted, stretching one arm along the back of the couch. His fingers gently brushed the back of Lie’s shoulder, barely noticeable, but enough that Lie felt electric.

“You ever think about taking a break?” Peter asked, voice soft, more careful.

Lie swallowed. “From what?”

Peter’s head tilted, eyes searching his. “From everything. The searching, the pressure, the way you seem to carry the weight of the world.”

Lie hummed. “Sounds like that might be more what you want,” he joked. “Am I right?”

Peter’s fingers curled slightly, brushing against the fabric of Lie’s shirt again, sending a shiver down his spine. “I need one,” he murmured, leaning in, “and I would love it if you took one with me.”

Lie’s breath hitched, eyes wide. Peter was close. Close enough that if he turned his head just slightly—

“Is this okay?” Peter asked, voice hesitant, but warm.

Lie didn’t trust his own voice, so he just nodded.

Peter didn’t move immediately. He just looked at Lie, like he was memorizing something, and then — slowly, carefully — he closed the space between them.

The kiss was slow, soft, just the press of lips as if testing the waters, but when Lie exhaled, something in Peter shifted. His fingers curled into the fabric of Lie’s shirt, pulling him closer, grounding himself like he was afraid to let go. Lie barely had time to process before Peter deepened the kiss, this time with more certainty, more intent. His free hand found its way to the front of Peter’s sweater, gently gripping the fabric to steady himself. Everything — the warmth of Peter’s body, the subtle scent of his cologne, the softness of his lips against his — made his head swim.

Peter let out a quiet breath, something between a content sigh and a hum, as his hand ghosted down Lie’s side, hesitant but wanting. He broke the kiss between the two, just enough to catch his breath, a soft chuckle escaping him, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. His pupils were blown wide as he drank in Lie’s equally breathless expression, his lips slightly parted as he attempted to find his words.

“Wow,” he settled on finally, his grip on Lie’s waist tightening.

“Yeah,” Lie choked out, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Peter’s gaze searched him for just a moment, the same look he gave just before kissing Lie. “Do you—” he hesitated, swallowing hard. “Do you wanna go somewhere else? Somewhere…quieter?”

Lie felt as if his pounding heart suddenly stuttered in his chest. The implication was obvious to him, but there was no pressure in Peter’s voice, no expectation – just an open invitation that he was in complete control of. For a moment, he could only stare, his thoughts scrambling to keep up. Then, finally, he nodded.

Peter’s lips quirked into a small, almost relieved smile as he gently took Lie’s hand, threading their fingers together before leading him through the apartment. The remaining guests were too caught up in their own conversations to pay them any mind as they slipped down a hallway. Peter pushed a door near the end of it open, letting Lie step inside first. The space was cozy, cluttered with books and scattered notes, but very undeniably Peter. Lie took a slow breath, glancing around, feeling the moment settle between them as Peter closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Peter hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flickered between Lie and the floor. “I, uh—just so you know, we don’t have to do anything. I mostly just wanted to be somewhere quieter. With you.”

Lie went further into the room, fingers lightly tracing the edge of Peter’s desk, scanning the familiar notes and doodles on the pages. He huffed a quiet laugh, before swallowing. The air between them felt heavy, humming with something unsaid, something electric. His skin still tingled at his waist where Peter touched him, his lips still warm from the kiss they had shared. He turned his focus back to Peter, taking a step closer. “What was that, back there?” he asked, voice softer than he intended.

Peter smiled, that same soft smile that made Lie falter, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I think it was me doing something I’ve wanted to do for quite a while.”

Peter closed the gap between them, gently grabbing Lie’s wrist, thumb brushing the inside of it, slow and deliberate. The touch sent sparks up Lie’s spine, making his breath hitch before he could stop it. Peter’s eyes flicked up at the sound, his grip tightening. “Unless you think I shouldn’t have.”

Lie didn’t pull away. If anything, he stepped a fraction closer, his breath mingling with Peter’s, his pulse hammering against Peter’s touch. His mind was spinning, too fast to grab onto anything steady, every rational thought drowned out by the way Peter was looking at him.

“Are you sure?” Lie asked, voice barely above a whisper, so fragile it felt like the words might break between them.

Peter blinked in surprise, his expression softening at the question. “What do you mean?”

Lie swallowed, throat tight. “I’ve thought about this for a while,” he admitted, the words coming out uneven, half-truth and half-confession. “But I thought there was no way in hell you could ever feel that way about me.” His heart was pounding, and he hated how small he sounded, how exposed. “You belong with someone so much better. So, why? Why me?”

Peter’s brows knit slightly, like the question physically pained him. His free hand lifted, fingers grazing along Lie’s jaw with a gentleness that made Lie’s chest ache. “ Because it’s you,” Peter said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it was absurd Lie couldn’t see it. “I don’t think I’ve wanted anyone more than I’ve wanted you.”

Lie’s stomach flipped violently, warmth flooding his face, and yet the words didn’t make sense. They didn’t fit with the version of himself he knew so well — the one that stumbled through his classes, barely kept it together, and spent most of his time wondering how someone like Peter even tolerated being around him.

Peter’s gaze roamed over his face, soft and searching. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed how hard I try not to stare at you, completely captivated by how wonderful you are.”

Lie’s throat went dry. “Peter—”

But Peter shook his head, silencing him gently. “No, you asked. So let me tell you.”

Lie’s whole body felt hot, his nerves thrumming under Peter’s touch. He felt seen in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying — like Peter was holding him under a microscope and instead of recoiling, he was leaning in closer.

The fingers on his jaw trailed lower, brushing the line of his throat, his pulse stuttering beneath Peter’s fingertips. “It pains me to hear you doubt how amazing you are,” Peter said, voice soft but certain. “The way you think. The way you carry yourself even though I know you’re freaking out underneath. The way you and I talk to each other, so smooth and effortless, I would forgo the little sleep I get if it meant you spoke to me instead.”

Lie’s breath stuttered, his fingers curling into his own palms, not sure if he was trying to ground himself or hold himself back. Peter’s words felt too big, too bright, pressing into the cracks of everything Lie thought he knew about himself.

“You drive me insane,” Peter said, a quiet laugh slipping through, but there was no teasing in it, only something raw and aching.

Lie could only stare, feeling like the ground might give out beneath his feet.

“And you’re so smart,” Peter continued, fingers now trailing down the front of Lie’s shirt, knuckles brushing against the fabric like Peter couldn’t stop touching him, like he didn’t want to. “Maybe not with math —” Peter smiled a little, and Lie almost wanted to shove him for it, “— but the way you talk about history, mythology, all that archaeology stuff, you talk about it with this fire, like every little detail matters. And I love that.”

Lie’s chest squeezed painfully, warmth curling under his ribs, making it hard to breathe.

“And don’t even get me started on your humor,” Peter went on, his voice softer now, like they were sharing a secret in the quiet of the room. “The way you banter with me, how easy it is — you have no idea how many times I’ve lied awake thinking about some dumb joke you made hours earlier.”

Lie’s stomach flipped again, but it was softer this time, like his body was trying to adjust to the fact that this might actually be real.

Peter’s hand slid further down, tracing the edge of Lie’s shirt, before his fingers curled into the fabric, holding him there. “And then there’s the way you look at me,” Peter said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “Like I’m worth more to you than my grades or my brain or the expectations everyone else puts on me.”

Lie’s breath caught in his throat, eyes stinging at the edges. He didn’t know Peter noticed that.

“No one ever looks at me like that,” Peter admitted, shaking his head slightly. “All anyone ever wants is the Peter that doesn’t really exist. But you — you don’t expect anything from me, not anymore. You just see me .”

Lie’s whole chest ached with the weight of it, the sheer impossible tenderness of being seen by Peter Parker, and realizing Peter had felt the exact same way all along.

Peter’s fingers curled tighter in his shirt. “I feel different when I’m with you,” he whispered. “And I’m not willing to ignore that any longer.”

Lie didn’t know what to say. His mind was still scrambling to catch up, to make sense of how the person he had built up so impossibly high in his head was standing right here, looking at him like he was the one worth reaching for.

Peter leaned in, his lips hovering just above Lie’s, teasing, waiting. “Is that a good enough answer?” he whispered.

Lie swallowed hard, heart hammering so violently he swore Peter could feel it where his fingers curled into him. The words, the way Peter was looking at him — all of it felt like too much, the weight pressing against every carefully built wall between Lie and this exact possibility.

Because Peter wasn’t supposed to want him.

But this confession, every single carefully said word of it, proved that he did. Peter wanted Lie, and he was waiting, still hovering so close that their breaths tangled in the space between them. Waiting for an answer. Waiting for Lie.

Lie’s throat tightened. “I—”

Words wouldn’t be enough for this. Not for Peter, who had spent all this time falling for Lie just as he did for him.

So, instead, Lie closed the gap.

His fingers curled around the front of Peter’s sweater, gripping tight as he surged forward, crashing their lips in a kiss that was messy, desperate, and real. Peter inhaled sharply, his grip tightening in response, but then he was kissing back, tilting his head and melting into it like it was what he had been waiting for all along.

Lie felt himself dizzy with it, the impossible reality of Peter Parker kissing him like he was his.

When they finally broke apart, Lie’s breath was uneven, his head spinning. Peter was still close, holding him with absolutely no intention to let go.

Lie forced himself to meet Peter’s gaze, lips parting on a shaky exhale. “Yes,” he breathed, “that was a good enough answer.”

Peter’s lips curled into a satisfied grin, his eyes gleaming with warmth and certainty.

“Good.”

—

The two years that followed blurred together, a gentle haze of late-night studying, hurried breakfasts, and moments stolen between Lie’s classes where the rest of the world fell away and all that mattered was Peter’s smile and the way his hand always managed to find Lie’s without thinking.

There were exams, deadlines, papers that made him question his own sanity, and the relentless pull of fulfilling expectations that had once felt suffocating, but with Peter at his side — both physically or through texts littered with dumb jokes and ridiculous gifs — getting through college became a breeze.

The two of them had built something together through those years, piece by piece, out of awkward firsts, quiet comforts, whispered confessions and mild concerns. It wasn’t always perfect. There were fights, missteps, moments where the weight of everything else controlled their emotions. But even so, they always found their way back to each other, knowing the life they had started to create was so much more important.

And then, somehow in the blink of an eye, it had come to the end.

Lie stood inside of the massive stadium, the summer air gently rustling the loose graduation gown as the ceremony came to a close, his degree feeling heavier than he expected in his hands. The sun was bright, the quiet chatter of his classmates around him buzzing in his ear, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was he finally did it.

The realization felt almost surreal, like if he closed his eyes for too long, the whole thing might dissolve into a dream when he opened them. But then, just beyond the sea of graduates and parents flashing cameras, there was Peter, standing just off to the side, hands stuffed into the pockets. The smile on his face was undeniable, beaming like Lie had hung the sun in the sky himself.

Lie barely had time to process it before Peter was there, arms wrapping around his waist, lifting him off the ground in a grand spin before Peter set him back down and kissed him, right there in front of everyone.

“Told you you’d do it,” Peter said, his voice warm with pride, hands still resting on Lie’s waist like he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

“Thanks for believing in me,” Lie murmured, still a little breathless from it all. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Peter’s grin shifted into something softer, something more fond. “I have something important to show you,” he said, intertwining his hand with Lie’s as he led him out of the stadium. They wound through quiet hallways and out onto a sunlit path right outside, the air still humming with the sounds of celebration still floating from a distance.

Lie’s heart was still racing, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the ceremony or if it was from the way Peter held him so openly, so proudly, in front of all of their peers, like he wanted the whole world to know exactly what they meant to each other.

When they reached Peter’s car, there was a rare sort of nervous energy in Peter’s posture, a quiet edge of anticipation that made Lie’s stomach flip. Peter opened the door to the backseat, grabbing a massive folder filled with papers, before handing it to Lie.

“What is it?” Lie asked, staring down at the forest green text on the front displaying Emily-May Foundation.

“A graduation gift,” Peter said with a smile, though Lie knew there was something more to the lightness of the statement. “Open it.”

Lie’s brow furrowed as he flipped open the folder, fingers tracing over the sharp, professional letterhead on the front. His name was there in bold print — Congratulations, Lin Lie, on your academic achievement and bright future ahead — followed by a friendly, warm note from Harry politely asking him about employment. The next pages were filled with printed emails, project proposals, even a few notes scribbled in Peter’s unmistakable handwriting. Lie’s stomach knotted as he skimmed, a growing sense of disbelief making his hands tremble.

“Peter,” Lie whispered, confusion lacing its way into the name. “What is this?”

Peter leaned against the car, looking perfectly at ease. “You know how when Harry invited me to work with him, I ended up spending a ridiculous amount of my time there?”

“And how I got mad at you for it?” Lie teased, but there was no malice in his voice. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well,” Peter breathed out, “it's because I was gathering everything you’d need to start looking.”

Lie’s breath caught in his throat.

“Funding for travel, research permits, even some contacts Harry’s foundation has overseas in Shanghai; everything you need is in that folder. I know that it’s been your goal since the beginning, but you never really had the chance to sit back and think about what came next, so I took it upon myself to do that for you.”

Lie stared down at the folder in his hands, vision blurring slightly at the edges. His fingers curled tighter, like holding onto it might somehow ground him in the reality of what Peter was saying, in what he had done.

“You…” Lie’s voice faltered, caught somewhere between disbelief and absolute awe. “You planned all of this?”

Peter just shrugged, but there was a quiet pride in his smile. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” he said simply. “You’ve spent most of your time pushing forward just trying to survive the weight of it. So I wanted you to have something simple after such a long time of dealing with what felt impossible.”

Lie swallowed hard, the weight of Peter’s words settling deep in his chest. College was a last minute idea, something he decided to just endure until the eventual finish line, but even with the attitude of just getting by, Peter was right — none of it had been easy. There were times that he nearly decided that none of the stress and hard work were even worth it, until that fateful day where he met Peter Parker, the man who managed to make everything make sense.

And Peter had done this. For him.

Lie’s hands shook as he flipped further into the folder, past the research contacts and funding approvals, and then he found it, the most defining part of the entire gift so far. 

Not one, but two plane tickets.

“Peter, this is—”

Peter stepped closer, one hand resting over Lie’s, steadying him. “I know it’s a bit sudden, but I want you to think about it,” he said softly. “And when — if you’re ready, I want to be there. Every step of the way.”

Lie’s throat tightened, and when he finally looked up from the papers, Peter’s eyes were waiting for him, clear, certain, full of that unwavering belief that had carried him so much already.

“You really want to come with me?” Lie asked, voice rough around the edges.

“I told you forever ago that I wanted to be your co-adventurer,” Peter teased. “Though, I think the correct term is partner , but, you know, semantics.”

Lie exhaled a quiet, trembling breath. There were no words big enough to hold what he felt — the gratitude, the awe, the sheer overwhelming sense of being so seen by a person such as Peter. So instead, he carefully set the folder down onto the roof of the car and stepped into Peter’s arms, wrapping his own around him, holding onto him like Peter was the only real thing in the world.

“I love you,” he whispered into Peter’s shoulder.

Peter’s arms tightened around him with a happy sigh. “I love you, too.”