Work Text:
Harley was stretched out across the couch, typing up an essay (yawn) on his laptop when his roomate bounded through the door, excitement rolling off him in waves. Peter had a gleeful smile on his face as he kicked the door shut behind him, toeing his ratty converses off by the mat. He slid across the floor in his avocado cat- avo-cat-o Peter always corrects- socks, pulling off his grey beanie.
Peter’s hair stuck up in a chocolate halo of curls around his head as he carefully set his backpack on the floor by the coffee table and took a running leap at Harley, launching himself onto the couch. His train of thought on how perception shapes reality was interrupted as he lifted his laptop to accept a lapful of Peter, painful elbows digging into his spleen. With an annoyed huff, he shifted over to give the smaller boy more room on the couch beside him. Harley conveniently didn’t think about how the small couch forced them against each other from knee to shoulder, warmth settling in his chest.
The paper was due tomorrow and Harley barely had a topic sentence going. He ignored his best friend, trying to come up with a thesis to his essay while his brain attempted to give up the ghost. Peter glared at him pointedly, until Harley sighed, closing his laptop and setting it on the coffee table. Who was he kidding, that paper was never getting done.
“Yes Petey-pie?” Harley resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Peter bounced on the couch.
“Peachy-Keener, you’ll never guess what happened today,” Peter’s hands were flying about as he spoke, nearly whacking Harley as he ducked to avoid the flailing limbs.
They always played this game and Harley always lost because Peter always did increasingly crazy things. He honestly didn’t know why Tony unleashed his intern out on the world. Harley crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. “Did you get to battle an army of flying unicorns? Finally do a backflip off the Empire State building?”
Peter shook his head with a delighted laugh, “I saw the cutest kitten on my way back from patrolling tonight! I had some carrots from our next door neighbour so I shared them and now we’re best friends. He’s just so soft and furry Harley, and his eyes are the prettiest shade of blue, just like yours.”
Harley resisted the urge to blush beet red, instead focusing on the rest of Peter’s sentence. He was clearly being buttered up. Peter said something about a stray cat he found while making the rounds? Harley glanced at Peter’s backpack on the floor, a sense of calm acceptance washing over him when he saw the pink nose sticking out of it. This was really happening. His best friend really had been too precious for this world.
“You brought a stray cat home with you.”
“Well yeah, the little guy looked cold and we have a warm house right here.” Peter shot a web at his backpack, slowly dragging it toward him as the kitten finally got his whole head out, shooting a cursory glance around the apartment before mewling at Peter. This really was his life.
Peter reached over him to pull the little fur ball out of his backpack, cradling the wriggly kitty in his hands. It was a tiny grey tabby, wrapped in Peter’s school sweatshirt, tail curling happily as it licked it’s arm.
It was all fun and games until Peter set the kitten on his chest. Sure Harley grew up on a farm with his sticky sister and had a couple of dogs that didn’t know the meaning of a personal bubble, but getting familiar with a stray cat that probably had all kinds of diseases was not really his thing. He twisted his head away as the cat tried to lick kisses up his cheeks, tongue rough against his cheek.
“Does he have a name?” Harley asked awkwardly patting the cat on the back. For a stray cat, his fur was surprisingly soft and fluffy, Harley couldn’t move his hands away. Taking that as an invitation, the tabby stepped up Harley’s chest, curling into the warm curve of his neck. With another long suffering sigh, Harley resigned himself to his fate.
Peter had his bony chin resting on Harley’s arm, hand stretched across his chest to pet the kitten’s furry head. “I haven’t really given it all that much thought.” Harley immediately knew it was a lie, but he listened to Peter anyway. “I wanted to know if you were okay with him joining our family first.”
Harley couldn’t resist the unadulterated hope in his best friend’s voice. And Peter’s puppy dog eyes. Those were definitely a huge factor, huge and brown and adorable. “Of course we can keep him.” Peter squealed excitedly, but Harley raised his finger to stop him. “But!” Peter paused, mid fist bump, wide coffee eyes darting to Harley’s. “We have to take him to the vet tomorrow and get him vaccinated, and you are in charge of the litter box, and he stays out of my my room.”
He already knows he’s going to cave by tomorrow, no doubt. The cat is going to end up in his room sleeping in his bed. Peter is going to be busy and Harley is going to have to clean out the litter box. It’s fine though, for the smile on Peter’s face.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Peter was dancing on the couch beside Harley, his arms in the air as he celebrated. He picked up the kitten from where he was watching them both, the closest thing to perplexed a cat could look. “Guess what?” Peter pressed exaggerated kisses to the kitten’s furry head. “He said yes! I told you he would.” Peter leaned over to lay a smooch on Harley’s check before turning his attention back to the kitchen. “Welcome to the family, Tuna Stark.”