Work Text:
Peter’s phone buzzed with that vibration pattern — the one that meant his day was about to get unnecessarily complicated.
MJ glanced over, amused. “That’s your ‘I’m about to get publicly humiliated by fate’ face.”
Ned leaned in. “Please tell me that’s not—”
The screen lit up.
PRESIDENT CALLING.
Peter exhaled through his soul. “I’m moving to the woods. I’ll live with raccoons. They won’t call me during class.”
Before he could slip out, the teacher snapped, “Mr Parker, if that’s a personal call—”
“It’s… not,” Peter said, already defeated.
“Then put it on speaker.”
Ned silently panicked.
MJ looked delighted.
Peter tapped accept, held the phone up, and resigned himself to chaos.
“Sup, Mr P.”
The room froze.
A beat. Then the President’s voice filled the classroom:
“Peter. Why does it sound like you’re in school.”
“Because I’m in school,” Peter said, leaning back like this was a normal Thursday.
The teacher made a noise like she’d swallowed a stapler.
“Well,” the President continued, “I was calling to confirm whether you’re joining Tony at the White House this weekend. He says you’re ignoring his messages.”
“I’m not ignoring him,” Peter said. “He left me on read. Again. Tell him to stop acting like a dramatic Victorian heroine.”
A soft laugh crackled through the speaker. “I’ll pass it along. Also—don’t steal my coffee again.”
The class blinked.
Peter didn’t miss a beat. “That was your fault.”
“My fault,” the President repeated, amused.
“Yeah,” Peter said. “You kept me up all night.”
The class collectively died inside.
The teacher’s soul visibly left her body.
The President cleared his throat. “Peter. We were reviewing security protocols.”
“Exactly,” Peter said. “You made me sit through a four‑hour briefing on bunker ventilation. I needed the coffee more than you.”
“You took the entire pot.”
“You shouldn’t have left it unattended.”
MJ mouthed, legend.
Ned mouthed, I’m going to pass out.
“So,” the President said, still sounding entertained, “that’s a yes for this weekend?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Peter said. “But tell Tony I’m not doing another press dinner. I’m still recovering from the Secretary of Agriculture.”
“That was one time.”
“It was traumatic.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks, Mr P. You’re the best.”
“Try to focus on your schoolwork.”
“No promises.”
Peter hung up.
Silence.
Thirty teenagers stared at him like he’d just revealed he was secretly the moon.
Peter stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m gonna… go breathe. Maybe rethink my entire existence.”
The teacher squeaked, “M-Mr Parker, you can’t just—”
“I’ll bring a note,” Peter said. “From the President.”
He walked out like this was the most normal thing he’d done all day.
MJ whispered, “I adore him.”
Ned whispered, “I fear him.”