Chapter Text
The florist on Park Avenue gives Harley a dozen roses for free the day he musters up the courage to ask his best friend, Peter Parker, to prom.
They’re an elegant arrangement of roses and tulips bound with burlap and wrapped in a red lace bow. Harley runs his fingertips over the soft petals, bringing them to nose to inhale the fresh aroma of fresh flowers. This is how perfect days start.
It’s a sunny Friday morning and he’d been stressing about his promposal all week.
He asked May for advice while he was over at Peter’s house building a lego set with him and Ned. Peter had gone to the bathroom and Harley had seized the opportunity to get the opinion of someone who knew him best. She grinned at him, ruffling his hair before telling him to go for it with a knowing smile.
Tony pretty much said the same thing, ruffling his hair, a proud grin stretched across his face. He’d been the one to help Harley come up with a plan for asking Peter to the dance. Harley had settled on doing it at school so his friends would be there to ease the awkwardness in case things went sideways. Though Tony had assured him that it didn’t matter because there was no way Peter would say no.
The rest of the Avengers had echoed similar sentiments when he had blushingly mentioned it at a family dinner Peter was late to because his patrol had run over. Steve had been the one to suggest he buy flowers at the cute stand across the street because they always had the prettiest blooms.
As he was getting ready this morning, Steve had shot him a knowing grin over breakfast as Bruce drew a chocolate sauce heart in his pancakes. Tony had put an encouraging hand on his shoulder as Pepper knotted his tie and wished Harley good luck. Clint didn’t even crack a sarcastic comment about him asking Peter to prom, though Harley thought it had more to do with Natasha elbowing him in the side than anything else.
It’s nice to know that they all have his back.
With the roses clutched to his chest, Harley is floating on air the whole walk to school, a silly grin on his face. He’s been hopelessly pining for Peter since Tony invited him to move up to New York from Tennessee six months ago. The moment he met the shy, adorable scientist who was always willing to play fetch with Dum-E and Butterfingers, he was totally and utterly gone for him.
There’s just something so adorable about the way Peter pouts when he can’t figure out a math equation or when a new villain crops up and he’s brainstorming a way to catch them. He loves how Peter always steals his sweatshirts, pulling his hands against his chest and disappearing into the sweater so only his fluffy head of hair pokes out the top. Peter has the most beautiful laugh, and nothing makes Harley feel like the king of the world quite like hearing the melodious sound of Peter losing his shit, cheeks reddening in delight when Harley says something ridiculous or unexpected. He’s so beautiful and Harley’s heart could burst with how much he wants his best friend.
The brown brick of Midtown Tech comes into view and Harley walks faster, his heart picking up the pace in his chest as an uncontrollable grin eclipses his face. He brushes a blond curl out of his face, adjusting the bouquet in his grip and tightening his backpack straps. It’s go time. There’s no going back now.
MJ spots him as he’s power walking up the school steps shooting him a thumbs up and a rare smile as he passes. He grins back at her nervously and waves before pivoting and pulling open the metal doors. He confidently strides down the hallway, a confident bounce to his step as his lucky cowboy boots clack against the white tile.
Students shoot him encouraging smiles and knowing grins as he struts by, pointing and grinning and whispering as he nods at his friends and waves. This is going to go great! He can’t wait to see the look on Peter’s face. He loves how easy it is to make the tiny brunet blush.
Peter’s locker is right beside his and Harley hides the roses behind his back as he approaches his best friend, heart in his throat. Conversations in the hallway stutter to a stop as students turn, moony-eyed, to stare.
The people of Midtown Tech love a good drama. Harley has heard more than one underclassmen whisper about how emotionally invested they are in his and Peter’s relationship. Apparently there’s a group chat for people who ‘ship’ them or something like that. It’s weird being thought of as entertainment for some students, but it means he gets a lot of support for moments like this and for that he’s forever grateful.
“Hey Parker,” Harley leans against his locker, an easy smile on his face as he glances down at the brunet’s bright red converses and light wash jeans. Peter looks adorable, as always, curls a messy chocolate mop on his head. Harley resists the urge to reach up and bury his hands in his friend’s hair.
“Harles!” Peter whirls around with an ecstatic smile, brown eyes wide and framed by long, inky lashes. The smaller boy looks adorable in a pilfered pink sweatshirt that he stole from Harley’s closet while he was sleeping over. He’s drowning in the fabric, the sleeves coming past his fingertips despite his constant efforts to push them up to his elbows. “Hey what’s up?”
“Nothing much,” Harley’s hand darts forward to brush a stray curl out of Peter’s face, tucking it behind his ear. Resisting the urge to touch Peter’s hair was always a losing battle. He grins, tilting his head toward Peter’s. “What about you?”
Peter shrugs, looking adorably bashful as he scuffs his shoe against the floor. His foot bumps against Harley’s and then his knees as he steps closer. He looks up at the blond through his lashes. “You know, the usual. Just wondering what you’re hiding behind your back.”
God, he’s adorable. Harley can’t wait to see his radiant smile.
“These flowers,” Harley pulls the bouquet out from behind his back showing them to Peter as his nerves swirl like a zoo trapped in his belly. “They’re the second most beautiful thing I’ve seen today.” He decides to fuck it and slips his arm around Peter’s waist pulling him closer with a wide grin. Their faces are inches apart and Harley uses their proximity to take in the wide swirling brown of Peter’s beautiful eyes. “I was wondering if I could go to prom with the first.”
Someone behind him gasps loudly, an awed sound emanating from a couple of the gathered students. Harley ignores them, his blue gaze focused on Peter’s expression, waiting for a response.
“Oh my god,” Peter’s mouth drops open as he looks up at Harley and back down at the flowers and back up. His cheeks are an adorable rosy red, almost enough to match the flowers, and Harley resists the urge to lean forward and press kisses to both of them. “Yes, of course, I want to go to prom with you.”
Clapping erupts from the students around them and Peter buries his face in Harley’s shoulder, embarrassed. With a smile, Harley presses a kiss to his curly locks, holding him close. He noses into Peter’s shoulder, the scent of lavender washing over him and god, Peter smells like him and it drives a bout of possession through him that makes his fingertips tingle.
So, maybe he’s in love with Peter Parker, but maybe Peter Parker is in love with him too.
That happened five hours ago. And boy, had those measly three hundred or so minutes changed everything in the worst possible way. Because Peter had been called out on Avengers business a little after they had gotten to Avengers Tower after school. His best friend had gone to save the world with a grin on his face and had been caught under a falling building, suffering a head injury and a broken arm.
Harley had seen it happen on CNN, shaky camera footage from someone in a nearby building catching Peter rushing heroically into a building to try and keep it from crumbling. God, he was so brave, Harley had flipped through all the news channels, biting his nails down to nubs as he asked Jarvis to monitor the comms and social media for news on Spiderman.
The phone rang, Tony’s number flashing across the screen and Harley picked it up with shaking fingers, his lip caught between his teeth as he choked out a strained hello. He squeezed his eyes shut, fear welling in his eyes and dripping down his face as he hoped this wasn’t the sort of call that would take the breath out of his lungs in the worst possible way.
Tony explained slowly that Peter was at New York general until he could be moved to the Avengers medical bay for monitoring. All Harley heard was that his best friend was alive and that was all he needed to book it to the hospital with mismatched sneakers and Peter’s beanie pulled over his head.
Which brings him to now.
Harley rubs his fingers down his face, watching the minutes tick by on the unforgiving clock as Peter lays peacefully in the hospital bed. His face is pale, lips dry and cracked as he stutters through a couple of breaths. With trembling fingers, he lays his hand gently on Peter’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing under his palm.
“He’ll be okay,” Pepper’s voice sounds from behind him and Harley startles, brushing his curls out of his face to look at her. He knows he looks like shit, nose red and eyes bloodshot like he’s been crying, which he has been. His cheeks are itchy from the dried tears. Now he’s just exhausted and it shows in the defeated slump of his shoulders.
With a choked sob Harley buries his face in Pepper’s stomach as she strokes his hair comfortingly. “Please don’t lie to me,” he mumbles into the fabric of her very expensive pantsuit.
“I’m not,” she says simply and Harley looks up at her through his bangs. She offers him a watery smile. “Peter would never miss prom with you. He’s been looking forward to it for months.”
Harley pulls away with a laugh, wiping his eyes as he looks back at Peter. She’s totally right, Peter would never let himself miss the biggest social event of the year. He was supposed to be taking pictures for the school newspaper.
Lacing his fingers with Peter’s hand that isn’t broken, Harley presses a kiss to his bruised knuckles with a sigh. The brunet’s left hand is in a bright red cast (Harley picked out the color) and Steve is coming by later with sharpies so Harley can decorate it.
“Can I drive you home?” Pepper’s fingers are carding carefully through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp. “You need to get some sleep.”
“No thank you,” Harley doesn’t let go of Peter’s hand, leaning onto the hospital bed and resting his head on his arms.
Pepper’s fingers leave his hair and then a soft grey blanket is draped across his shoulders smelling like the dryer sheets Tony likes to use and her perfume. Harley sighs as the redhead’s fingers smooth the soft fabric across his arm, passing him a warm smile. She drops a stuffed duffle bag by the door, probably packed with Peter’s clothes for when he’s ready to change out of the pink gown patterned with elephants that the doctors put him in. “Tony’s talking to the doctors, but he’ll be in soon. The rest of the team is on their way, Steve is bringing you a hot pocket.”
The staccato clack of Pepper’s heels against the tile follows her down the hallway as she leaves taking all the warmth in the room with her. Harley shivers alone, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He runs his fingers across the soft fabric, bringing it up to rub against his cheek.
He rests his head against his arm, one hand on Peter’s chest to feel his breathing. Between one moment and the next, Harley blinks awake to find that he’s fallen asleep against Peter’s thigh, the blankets leaving soft creases in his cheek.
“You’re okay, kiddo,” Tony’s voice comes from behind him and Harley turns to see him slumped in a plastic chair against the wall, mouth stuffed full of hot pocket. “Steve made these yesterday, but thanks to yours truly, they’re still warm. Go long.”
Harley catches the foil-wrapped hot pocket in one hand, the other still splayed across Peter’s chest. He peels back one corner, the smell of warm, gooey cheese and pepperoni hitting him. God, he loves comfort food. “Thank you,” he mumbles through a mouthful of delicious food.
Beneath his fingers, Peter’s breath hitches and Harley watches as his nose wrinkles, mouth screwed up as he shifts in bed. His lashes flutter and Harley hurries to swallow so he can smile at Peter without his mouth full.
A small cough pushes through Peter’s lips as he squints against the bright hospital lights and Harley is off like a shot, pouring his friend a glass of cool water into a plastic cup with a smiley face on it.
“Hey there, darlin’,” Harley brushes Peter’s hair out of his eyes, the stress pulling his accent out from the depths of his lungs. He holds the straw to Peter’s lips, coaxing the smaller boy to take a couple of slow sips. “You gave us quite the scare there. How’s the head?”
“Kinda fuzzy,” Peter’s voice is small and distant as he rubs the back of his head, eyes glazed over. He pokes at the IV, before looking out the window with furrowed brows. His gaze doesn’t warm the way it normally does as it settles on Harley, but the blond chalks that up to an intense amount of painkillers. Peter groans, wincing as he puts a hand to his side. “I’m not feeling too good.”
Tony takes over, with an explanation, shooting Peter a warm easy smile as he talks. “The doctor said you might feel a little woozy and disoriented. The painkillers don’t work all that well with your metabolism but they’ve given you enough to hopefully make you feel a little better. You shouldn’t be moving around all that much until your head is a hundred percent better. It won’t be long though because of your super fast healing. We can probably take you home tonight. There won’t be any movie marathons, but we can have a board games night.”
Peter frowns and Harley remembers the dance, quick to reassure his best friend and hopefully soon boyfriend. “It’s totally okay if you can’t make prom next weekend, we can put up lights around the tower and have FRIDAY play something real slow. A prom just for you and me.”
“You and me?” Peter asks, confusion crossing his features as he finally focuses on Harley, his nose wrinkling in a way that Harley usually finds adorable, but now it sparks an inkling of fear in his chest. “Uhh, I don’t think I know you. Besides, I’m going to ask MJ to prom.”
Harley steps back, his heart stuttering to a stop in his rib cage. “Peter, that’s not funny.”
It’s like he can’t breathe. Feeling like a fool yet again, waiting for something that will never happen. His dad left and then Tony left, even though he did come back, and now Peter is pretending they don’t know each other and sure he’ll apologize and they’ll laugh about it later, but right now it feels like a heavy weight on his chest, his lungs collapsing as he struggles to take in each breath. He wants to sob as his eyes meet Peter’s beautiful brown ones.
They don’t hold even the tiniest hint of recognition. They’re swimming with confusion and empathy and concern. Nothing like the normal bright intelligent glint with the small hint of teasing and affection.
“Hey, hey,” Tony’s hand is grounding on his wrist, and Harley whirls around to face him, catching the inscrutable expression crossing his features as his gaze darts between the two of them. He smiles kindly, cocking his head towards the door. “You wanna step outside for a moment? I gotta talk to Petey.”
Taking the offered out, Harley heads to the hallway, taking a seat in one of the unforgiving plastic chairs that always makes his back ache something fierce. Tony always makes everything better. He’ll explain to Peter that those kinds of jokes really aren’t funny, and then Harley will be back to flirting with him relentlessly and kissing his shoulers and playing with his hair.
That’s not what happens.
Hours later, when Tony finally emerges from Peter’s hospital room, face pale as a sheet, he silently sits down beside Harley. Minutes pass in silence as he waits for Tony to speak, fingers twisting anxiously in his lap as anxiety eats away at his heart, frantically beating in his chest like a caged bird’s wings.
“Is he going to be okay?” Harley asks, unable to hold it in any longer
Tony pulls Harley into a side hug as if to cushion the harsh words between their bodies. “He has amnesia,” it’s like a punch to the chest and before Harley can decide whether he wants to laugh or sob at the harsh reality of it all, Tony is continuing. “The doctors say he’s lost almost nine months, he knows he’s spiderman, but he doesn’t remember you at all.”
And if that wasn’t like nails on a chalkboard. Harley winces, lashes wet as he blinked away hopeless tears. “Do you think he’ll ever gain his memories back?” Harley asks, glad that Tony ignores the way his voice shakes like a leaf stapled to a tree in the New York winter wind.
“I’m sorry kiddo, I don’t know.” Tony runs his fingers through Harley’s hair. “The doctor thinks maybe you can help because the two of you spend so much time together. Just being around him should work wonders, but mentioning things he can’t remember will just frustrate him and make it harder.”
He lets that sink in. There goes six months' worth of shared memories. Of trips to the park and late-night movie marathons and water balloon fights on the terrace. There goes their inside jokes and plans for prom. Harley drops his head into his hands with a sigh.
“So, I guess this means we can’t go to prom together.” Harley murmurs dejectedly, he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. At this point, he would probably just skip the dance altogether. He couldn’t imagine going only to see Peter and MJ slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor.
“Why don’t you head back to the tower? Get some rest.” Tony rubs a comforting hand down Harley’s back. “Steve made your favorite and the rest of the team are having dinner and getting ready for Peter to be released from the hospital.”
Harley nods. Peter’s okay- well, he’s not okay, but he’s not bodily injured aside from the broken arm. Besides, Harley doesn’t think he can be around his best friend right now. Especially when Peter doesn’t even know who he is.
Grabbing his bag and slipping on his sweater, he heads out of the hospital and into the unforgiving night.