Spiderson Oneshots {Requests}

blurry insecurities

Peter first got glasses when he moved in with Ben and May. He'd thought the strange blurry vision was just endless tears, the blurriness looked exactly like when he was crying and he had to squint through them to see the world clearly.

He didn't realize he needed glasses until Ned pointed it out in their English class. His sister had glasses, so he knew how to spot the signs. It wasn't too hard to tell anyway, Peter kept asking Ned to read the board for him and he was squinting to the point where his eyes were shut.

At first it wasn't that bad.

He got glasses and he wore them without complaint, and he didn't mind. It made life easier so there was no point in fighting it.

Until he reached high school.

It wasn't really a big deal, there was plenty of people with glasses. The difference between him and everyone else was that he was also the biggest nerd. He was on Academic Decathlon, chess club, and robotics, he was kind of a teacher's pet. Not by choice, just because he was nice and smart.

It got worse when he started getting shoved against the lockers or hit occasional by stray elbows.

May and Ben didn't have the money for replacement glasses more than once a month, so he was left with cracked lenses, barely held together with tape.

When he got bit by the spider, everything changed. He suddenly didn't need glasses, he didn't have asthma, he could stand up for himself and help instead of feel helpless all the time.

He finally felt comfortable in his own skin.

And then, a year and a half later, it was ripped away from him.

He knows it's not a big deal.

It's just a pair of glasses. Black square-framed, not as strong of a prescription as he used to have, that he has to wear to see long distance.

But he hates it.

It's a small thing, a small change, but it reminds of a time where he felt helpless, a time where he wasn't comfortable being him, a time where his glasses got stepped on when he was shoved into lockers and teased relentlessly.

He hates it.

He doesn't wear them.

It gives him godawful migraines at school, squinting at the board or taking photos to copy off his phone instead. The worst is leaning over to copy MJ's notes in Spanish because he can't possibly see the notes on the projector.

He shoves his glasses case into the bottom of duffel bag when he stays over at Tony's. Harley's living at the tower, and the last thing he wants is to wear the glasses in front of the two most important people in his life.

But it only takes a couple hours in the lab before he wants to tear his eyes out. A headache throbs behind his eyes as he squints up at his computer and down at his webshooters, vision foggy and worse than normal.

"You okay there, kid?" Tony asks.

Peter's too far away to make out the expression on Tony's face, but he nods anyways. "Just a little tired, is all. I think I might call it an early night, if that's alright?"

Harley comes up behind him, hands resting on his waist as he presses a kiss to Peter's cheek. "Let me walk you. You look like you're one breath away from collapsing."

He nods and lets Harley lead him out of the lab and to his bedroom.

He's about to close the door behind him when Harley grabs his arm. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"