Work Text:
Peter let out a harsh breath and leaned back, tugging his jacket hood harder over his head, then just as quickly flipping it off altogether. This was the third time in the past five minutes that he has shuffled in place, each time slightly more agitated than the last. Harry had been waiting for Peter to say something, but it was increasingly clear that his discontent wasn’t something he was keen on verbalizing.
“Pete? You good?” He asked, barely glancing up from his laptop. He had found a while back that openly fussing over the boy only ever made him either dismissive or straight-up defensive.
“I’m fine, I just-” he cut himself off with a quiet grunt. “I can’t focus, and I’m all antsy, but I need to get this done, and I haven’t even started, so I can’t take a break. I doubt a break would even help.”
As he spoke, his voice gradually increased in volume until he was nearly to normal speaking volume. Harry glanced around nervously. Luckily, they had chosen a fairly secluded spot in the library to work, but that didn’t mean that other overworked college students wouldn’t get pissed off about someone talking at full volume in a quiet study space. Peter seemed to catch into this, wrestling his voice back down to a moderate whisper.
“This is due tomorrow, I don’t know why I can’t just focus and do this now.”
Peter shifted again, this time sliding down in his seat with his arms crossed. Yet again, he seemed to find this uncomfortable as well and shifted back up to a slouch over the library desk.
As he observed Peter, Harry noticed he was starting to tic occasionally, and he kept pulling his hoodie forward off of his throat- or perhaps harder onto the back of his neck? He was clearly getting overstimulated, though Harry wasn’t quite sure what exactly was causing it yet. Peter probably didn’t even realize he was working himself up to the verge of a meltdown.
“Alright, Pete, which sense is the biggest right now?”
“Uhm,” Peter’s face further screwed up in frustration. “Sight, I think? My eyes hurt, and I want to cover my head, but I can’t put my hoodie up without it brushing against my headphones.”
“Okay,” Harry muttered, eyes darting around as he reached into his jacket pocket. He noticed that the ceiling was lined with bright white lights, and each desk had accent LED lights along the top frame. It was likely designed to help students stay awake into the night, but it was no doubt feeding into Peter’s eye strain. He pulled out a pair of spare sunglasses and held them out towards Peter.
“Put these on for now. I don’t think there are any dimmer rooms on this floor, but we can move easily enough. Is there anything else, you think?”
Peter slipped the glasses on and minutely relaxed, though he still seemed bothered. Completely ignoring the question, he said, “I don’t want to go somewhere else though. I’ve already delayed this project for way too long, and it could take ages to find another good spot.”
Harry gave him his best really? look. “And you’re getting anything done like this?”
Peter looked down at his (undoubtedly, completely blank) document, before closing his laptop with a grumble and slid his belongings haphazardly into his backpack.
Harry swung his own bag onto his back with a triumphant grin, and headed off towards the elevator after Peter. As they walked, Harry couldn’t help but notice Peter’s shoulders getting stiffer as they walked, raising to push his jacket hood against his neck, before stiffly jerking back down as soon as fabric brushed against his headphones. After a moment of contemplation, Harry risked pressing a hand against Peter’s neck, gently but with (hopefully) a comforting amount of pressure. Peter jerked forward at first at the unexpected contact before leaning into it with a sigh. Harry let out a silent breath of relief. See? He wasn’t completely useless at helping people.
Peter pressed a button for the next floor down after contemplating the Library map on the elevator wall. He leaned harder against Harry’s hand, but didn’t lean any closer to his body. He didn’t push. Harry knew that much touch could easily become worse than whatever other sensory issues Peter was dealing with at any given time.
As soon as the door to the floor opened, Peter stuck his head out, frowned even harder than he had been for the past however-long, and pressed to close the door, ducking back into the elevator.
So no luck.
In the end, not a single room in this “Pain in the ass, evil fucking building, what, do they just hate autistic people?” library had dimmable lights, or even a corner untouched by wall-to-wall fluorescent lighting. Though he hadn’t said anything, Harry could tell that Peter had at least a low-level headache by this point. By the deepening furrow in his brow, it was likely getting more to the moderate end. Shrugging Harry’s hand off, Peter left the elevator, this time seemingly having sent it to the main floor of the building. Harry tried not to miss the contact as he followed behind Peter. He turned to Harry and signed, ‘Want-to go-to other library?’ Ah, so Peter was done talking. Either that, or he had switched his headphones to sound-blocking mode. He never liked talking out loud when his voice came out muffled to himself. Taking his queue, Harry signed back. ‘Dont-care. Instead, you want-to go dorm now?’ He replaced the hand shape in “home” with a ‘d’, hoping it got across that he meant Peter’s dorm, not the apartment further in town. Peter seemed to be doing well enough to not need to go all the way off-campus, but sometimes he needed the space away from the constant low-level noise of the dorm building.
Peter acquiesced with a reluctant nod. ‘Please’.
Harry lead the way to the exit, keeping an eye on Peter in case he continued to sign. As he expected, Peter eventually looked away before signing, ‘I'm-sorry.’
Harry waited until they were away from the main walking path before slowing and turning to face peter fully. ‘Angry at you? I’m not. Never because-of this.’ Peter made an expression of protest. ‘You need-do work! I distracted you’. Harry rolled his eyes. ‘That? I already finished. I wanted-to help you. Remember? B-O-D-Y D-O-U-B-L-I-N-G?' He finger-spelled, realizing that there likely wasn’t an easy sign translation for that one.
Peter’s eyes widened, touched, before pouting and jabbing a finger at Harry. ‘Liar!!’ He signed accusatorily. Harry was glad to see Peter was in a better mood. The darkness and coolness of the night air seemed to have immediately perked him up. As Harry started walking again, he twisted to walk backwards in front of Peter, trusting him to get his attention if he veered off path.
‘Nonverbal? Headphones? Which?’ he asked to clarify if he’d be heard if he spoke out loud. After a moment of hesitation, Peter slid his headphones off and around his neck. ‘I want-to sign. You can talk.’
Harry smiled. “Cool. Do you want to work once we get back to the dorm? Or do you wanna just crash?”
Peter frowned again, this time just in thought. ‘Work, I think. I want to try,’ he signed with a shrug.
Harry shrugged back. “Either works for me. I might end up napping while you work, though. I’m beat,” he stretched with an exaggerated yawn.
Peter let out a short laugh at his antics. It was only eight, and while the sun had gone down, neither boy would really be in for the night until at least midnight. Harry couldn’t help but laugh too, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders and leaning most of his weight onto him. Peter barely stumbled, shoving Harry back off.
Sure, Harry definitely had more work he needed to get done tomorrow, but he hadn’t been lying when he finished the day’s task. He was more than happy to just spend the evening nagging Peter as he crammed yet another essay last-minute. By the way Peter jabbed him in the stomach when he stepped back in reach, Harry was sure that the feeling was mutual.