Work Text:
You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. You feel around for it, your hand accidentally slapping it to the floor. You groan, twisting around until you’re most of the way out of your bed, only your feet still tangled in your blankets. You grab your phone, your eyes taking a second to adjust before you can see Peter’s name on the screen. You smile despite yourself as you swipe up to accept the call.
“What exactly are you doing calling me at this unholy hour?”
“We have a snow day!”
“What?” You climb the rest of the way out of bed and move to your window. Everything is covered in white, and there are still flakes of ice fluttering gently down. “You mean our teachers actually caved for once and said we didn’t have to risk our necks out in the freezing winter?”
“Yeah!” he exclaims. “You know what that means?”
“I can lay in bed all morning?” You know full well that’s not what he’s getting at, but you just have to tease him sometimes. He’s cute when he’s annoyed.
He gasps in mock outrage. “Y/F/N, don’t you dare. I’m coming over, be ready in fifteen minutes or I’ll drag you out myself.”
You grin slightly, turning your phone onto speaker as you set it on your dresser. “There’s no need for all that. You had but to ask.”
You can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he answers. “Don’t quote movies you know I haven’t seen.”
“How do you know I was quoting?” You ask, pulling on a warm red sweater.
“Because you were using the weird British accent you do when you quote something.”
“Alright, but it’s from the eighties! You should be an expert!”
“Just because I said one time that you couldn’t name five movies from the eighties that I hadn’t seen but you had-”
“Are you going to be coming soon? Because I’m dressed and ready to go.”
He’s silent for a moment before sighing. “Of course you are. I’m coming, can you wait fifteen minutes?”
“My dear chap, I would never dream of depriving you of your moment of triumph.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, you’re just rubbing it in now-”
“Bye Peter!” you say cheerily before hanging up on him.
°•°•°•°
“Are you still putting on your skates?” you tease. Peter had bought ice skates on a whim about five months ago, and had been waiting eagerly for it to get cold enough for the lakes to freeze over. You had offered to take him to the skating rink--you had been taking lessons since you were five--but he could be stubborn. It was equally endearing and irritating.
“There are a lot of laces, give me a break!”
You roll your eyes, although you’re not really annoyed. “Here, I’ll help you. I don’t want your laces to get undone on the ice, that’s a recipe for disaster.”
You quickly do up the laces and help him stand up. He wobbles slightly, holding out his arms for balance. You both make your way down to the ice. As soon as Peter steps on, his feet slide out from under him and he lands with a loud “Oof!”
You stifle a laugh as he tries standing up again, and falls over again. “Help please?” he finally asks.
“Just give me a moment to appreciate being the coordinated one.” You stop, taking a deep breath for effect. “Alright. That’ll last me through the next few months of crashing into everything and tripping every other step.” You grab his hand, pulling him up. “Now, let’s go slow.”
You begin making your way around the outside of the pond, careful to avoid the other skaters. Peter tries to skate on his own at first before giving up and grabbing your hand.
“Okay. Okay, I can do this-wait don’t spin me!” Peter yelps. You laugh as he regains his balance.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I wasn’t going that fast.”
“That’s it. I’m done, I’m sitting on the side, I want to see what real ice skating looks like.” He sits down on the bank and motions for you to continue.
You can’t resist showing off a bit as you skate to the middle of the pond, gaining momentum before doing a quick axel jump. You spin a couple times before skating back over to Peter. “When’s the Olympics?” he asks dryly.
“Shut up,” you say, pushing him playfully. “Come on, you’ve sat on the side long enough-”
“It was five minutes-”
“I need a partner, and besides, I might slip and need you to catch me.”
“There’s about as much chance of getting bitten by another weird arachnid, like a radioactive tick or something.”
“So that you have to drink blood to survive?” You gasp. “And then you turn into Edward Cullen?! If you start sparkling you will also start being single again.”
“Relax, I have no plans of taking a shower in glitter glue.”
“What were we even talking about? Oh right. Skating. Come on, you can’t stall forever.”
Peter groans. “I thought I got you off topic.”
“You did, I just got back on topic. Now are we going to skate or should you admit defeat and we go home?”
“Nope. Not giving up that easily.” He pushes himself up. “Let’s go ruin our ankles. And by our, I mean mine.”
“You’ll live,” you say cheerily.
°•°•°•°
“Ah, I think I’m frozen through!” You say as you make your way back to the subway much later, blowing on your gloved hands. “My fingers are froze and my nose is froze and my lips are froze and my ears are froze and my toes are froze-”
“Alright, calm down, I know a way to warm at least one of those things up,” Peter interrupts you. You mock glare at him.
“And how would you possibly do tha- Oh!” you exclaim as he kisses you.
“Wow, your lips are cold.”
“Okay smarty pants. Just ‘cause your spiderness and your boyness make it so you don’t get cold as easily-”
He laughs, cutting you off again. You roll your eyes. “Come on, you know you liked it,” he says.
“But my lips are still cold,” you say innocently. “I think you aren’t very good at your job as a heater.”
“Ouch, Y/N, is that all I am to you?” he staggers the rest of the way to the sidewalk, clutching his chest in fake agony.
“Of course not. I would have gotten rid of you by now if that’s all you were, since you’re terrible at it.”
He rolls his eyes. “So how do you propose we warm up?”
“We go home and cuddle in my blanket fort. Obviously.”
“What blanket fort? You had no blanket fort the last time I was in your house. Which was yesterday.”
“You took so long getting to my house, I had to do something.”
You can see him fighting back a smile as he shakes his head. “Remind me again why I love you?”
“Because I’m just so darn cute,” you grin, swinging his hand as the train pulls up.
“Okay, we can go to your house. I’d never say no to cuddling, but can we please watch the movie you keep quoting so I don’t feel like an idiot?” he asks.
“Sink me, if you aren’t right. For a change.”
“You’re reaching again.”
“I know,” you admit, quickly kissing him before you both get on the train.