Chapter Text
Peter lets out a loud sigh as he reaches his locker, fiddling with the lock before opening it. It has been a long, long day. He had a surprise pop quiz in chemistry, and normally he's great at chem but he's been struggling with this unit in particular for some reason, so that went poorly, Ned was out sick with a head cold which just makes his day all the more sucky, not that he blames Ned for that, MJ has been in a bad mood lately for some reason that she won't tell anyone so Peter can't go to her either, and Flash decided to up his game today too because of course he did, getting a bit physical with him instead of his usual taunting. So he spend the entire day stressed, tired, bullied, bruised and alone, and all he wants to do is go home, cuddle up to his boyfriend and watch a movie. That sounds fantastic right about now.
He swings his backpack on to his back, before shutting his locker. He hears commotion, familiar commotion, coming from down the hallway, and places his head against the locker, groaning to himself. Say his name, and he shall come. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, Peter loves Harley to bits. The issue with it is the other five that follow.
Peter tilts his head to the side, to see what was going on. It was nothing unusual, Thing 1 and Thing 2 were roughhousing with each other, while Thing 3, 4 and 5 all cheered them on. Peter had never bothered to learn their names and he still doesn't want to, doesn't feel the need to. They're all assholes and bad influences anyways. Harley stood beside them, not joining in the cheering but not stopping the fight either, a smirk that's so obviously fake to Peter on his face. He's not even looking at the fight, his beautiful sapphire eyes wandering around the hall for a while before they connect with Peter's.
His facade breaks for a second, his grin dipping and his head tilting, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask 'are you okay?'
Head against the locker, tilted to the side, frown on his face. Yeaaah, he probably looked pretty miserable. *I feel pretty miserable.* But he sends a small smile back anyways, lifting his head up, hopefully portraying the message of 'I'm alright.'
They had learned to speak in subtle gestures a while ago, back when this whole game started. When Harley told Peter he wasn't ready to come out to the school, and when he had became close friends with the dickwads, ultimately making him act like Peter was nothing more than an acquaintance at school. Peter had accepted to do it, to pretend, of course he had. He'd never force Harley or anyone to come out before they were ready, and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but it didn't mean Peter had to be happy with it. He didn't want to be ignored by his boyfriend for most of the day, he didnt want to pretend they were nothing, only to go home and have Harley kiss him silly, but Peter had agreed on the notion that it was what was best for Harley.
He wasn't so sure about that anymore. Harley has starting acting... Different. Wearing different clothes, to 'look cooler' for his 'friends' even though it just looks stupid to Peter, talking back in class which he used to never ever do, going out more, and coming back late. He seems to be becoming someone completely different, someone new, just because he feels like he has to fit in. But when it's just them together, at home, he's still the sweet, kind, caring, charming boy Peter fell in love with. He has tried telling Harley to just be himself, that Peter likes him for who he is, as do Ned and MJ, and that he doesnt have to pretend, but Harley won't listen, doesn't believe him. Its confusing and kind of scary to Peter. He doesn't know what to do, if there is anything he can do. Right now, he's just hoping it doesn't get any worse.
Peter tilts his head back, in a gesture of 'are you coming?' He always leaves before Harley does, so they aren't seen together (another one of Harley's paranoid rules due to his 'friends'), but normally Harley follows shortly after, and they meet up a little ways away where Happy picks both of them up.
Normally. But today, on one of the worst days Peter's had in a while, today, Harley tenses, and gives Peter a sad, apologetic look, one he always gives when he isn't coming home for the night. Peter's stomach drops, his hopes shattered with one small look. Funny how that works.
His gaze drops to the floor, and he doesn't even bother to hide his hurt and frustration as he sharply turns heel and walks away from the group. He can feel Harley's stare burning into his back but he ignores it, wallowing in his misery. He just wanted a nice night in with his boyfriend, but no, he can't even have that today. God, he just wants to go home.
He walks a little ways away from the school, seeing the black incognito convertable thankfully already there, waiting for him. He jumps in quickly, saying a short hi to Happy and buckling up, before staring out the window moodily. Happy doesn't even ask where Harley is, doesn't bother to anymore, he just starts the car and drives away.
Peter feels a vibrate in his pocket, and immediately knows who it's from. He shouldn't check it, he knows he shouldn't, but he does anyways. He always will for Harley, no matter how mad he is.
'Im sorry baby. I'll be home for supper okay?'
He shouldn't believe it. He shouldn't.
'Okay, you better!'
Harley doesn't come home for supper. Or the hour after. Or the hour after that.
When Peter finally goes to bed, sniffling, exhausted and still alone, he makes sure to ask FRIDAY to lock his and Harley's door. He can sleep on the couch tonight.
--
It only gets worse after that. Harley stays out longer and longer, more and more frequently. He starts to come home smelling of cigarette smoke, something he knows Peter can't handle due to his hightened senses, though he says it isn't him that is smoking. He's more on edge, jumpy and snappy. They're getting into more and more fights, arguing about anything and everything under the sun, mostly Peter trying to tell him to knock it off, to stop being like this, and Harley not listening, saying that he can't, that he has to fit in, has to be part of the group, which Peter can't understand because isn't he enough? Why can't he be enough? Even Tony is getting a cold treatment from Harley nowadays. He keeps apologizing afterwards too, begging Peter to forgive him, but Peter's stopped believing it. His worst fears are coming true, and he's at his wits end. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. How much more of the attitude, of the fighting, of the lies and pretending, of the loneliness, of the ache, all of it. He feels like everyday is adding more and more weight into his shoulders, building and building until one day he's just going to break. He just hopes, prays that it will never come to that, that Harley will change and go back to the way he used to be, to the person Peter fell in love with, to the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
But Peter should have known better. He has Parker Luck, after all.
He was on his way to his next class, calculus, when he feels the hairs on his arms stand up, and a tingle go down his back (*Danger, not severe.*) before a cry of pain echoes from behind him. He turns quickly, before freezing, his heart stopping. *No, no... It couldn't be... He wouldn't...* Oh, but he was.
Standing a little bit away from him, surrounded by his usual posse, holding a shorter, smaller freshman against the lockers by the collar of his shirt, was none other that Harley Tyler Keener himself, a cold sneer Peter's never seen before on his face. Peter knows it's him, knows that this is his boyfriend of almost two years that he is staring at with his own two eyes, but... Peter can barley recognize him. Peter knew he was changing, knew he was going with the wrong group, knew he was becoming something bad, but... a bully? Something he used to tell Peter stories about, from his own experiences getting picked on at his old school? Something he used to tell Peter he would never let happen to him, that he'd rather die than to let Peter get bullied? Something that he swore to protect others against, so they didn't end up like him? But now, suddenly, he had become it? How? Why?
He doesn't understand, he can't understand. His mind just kept repeating the cry of pain from the boy, the jeers and laughter of the surrounding group, of Harley joining in with them, a voice that used to be so gentle and sweet to him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, that was now a low deep threatening growl, used to hurt, to insinuate fear into this poor child.
As the world catches up around him, his emotions swirl, constantly changing from one to the other (*pain, anger, hurt, sorrow, confusion, frustration, why, why, why?!?*), and Peter snaps.
He races forward into the circle, grabbing the person he promised to never lay a hand on (no, not the same, they are not the same person), and throwing him away from the boy, who drops to the ground before picking himself up and running away. Good, hopefully he won't get hurt anymore. "How could you?!?"
Harley catches himself, rebalancing, turning back around about to snap before his face slackens with shock as he realizes exactly who pushed him away, the mask he always has on disappearing as his eyes widen in horror. "Pete?" It comes out as a shaky whisper, almost silent, but Peter hears it crystal clear anyways.
His hands are balled into fists, his entire body shaking with rage, frustration, fear, hurt, tears filling his eyes that he quickly blinks away. "He COULD you?!?" He roars again, taking another step towards his lover, his ex-lover.
Harley takes a step back in response, arms waving frantically. "I- I can explain, I-"
"Explain what? How you beat on kids now, how you're a bully now???" He spits the term out at him, and Harley's face scrunches up, tears filling his eyes.
"Peter, baby, please-"
"Do NOT call me that! You lost that right the minute you decided to hurt someone else!" He takes another step forward, Harley taking a step back. Peter's chest is heaving, his lungs aching, his throat burning with his yells, and he knows he has drawn the attention from everyone else in the hallway now, their eyes soaking up all the drama they can get, but he doesn't care, not anymore.
"I could deal with you changing your clothes." Another step forward, Harley copying with another step back."I could deal with you staying out all night." Another step. "I could deal with you coming home smelling like cigarettes and weed." Step. "I could deal with you starting to be a dick towards our family." Step. "Hell, I could deal with you being a dick towards me!" Harley's back is now pressed against a completely different set of lockers at the end of the hallway, his expression full of hurt, sorrow, regret, tears streaming down his face but Peter. Doesn't. Care. Can't care. Won't care. "But for you to yell at someone else," Another step. "to pick on someone else," Another step. He's almost flush against Harley now. "to bully someone else, someone innocent who did nothing wrong except exist, when you know what it does to people, what it does to me, what it did to you," He gets right up in Harley's face, screaming now. "that is completely and utterly UNACCEPTABLE!"
His body jerks with a sob, tears finally overflowing over his face, his anger fading into pure, crushing, destroying pain, his heart cracking, breaking, crumbling, knowing what he has to do. "And I won't have any part of it." His voice is a whisper now, quiet and broken. "Not anymore."
Harley gasps slightly, his face crumbling. "No, please- Peter, I'm sorry, I-"
He reaches for Peter's arm, but he just takes a step back, away from Harley. He shakes his head, biting his bottom lip to keep his sobs quiet. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Harley."
A hand grabs at his shoulder as he turns to walk away. "Please, please, just give me a chance to explain, please-" He sounds so desperate, pleading, begging, his voice shattering, and Peter longs to give it to him, to give him another chance, to hold him and tell him everything will be okay. But he can't. He won't. Because it won't be okay. It isn't okay. And Peter isn't standing for it anymore.
He just shakes his head again, and jerks the grip off of his shoulder, storming away from the broken man he's leaving behind. He can hear the mutters, the chatter of the school with a new piece of drama, his drama, and searches for a emergency exit, pushing through it as soon as possible. He collapses onto the ground, head in his hands, body quaking and shuttering with uncontrollable sobs, his unfiltered heartbreak echoing loudly in the big, quiet, empty field.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, completely breaking down, until Ned somehow finds him and ushers him back inside, murmuring reassurances as he drags him to the office. Peter doesn't say anything, just following Ned blindly, his heart longing with every beat for a boy he now knows no longer exists.