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Peter’s wings are big. Dark red like rubies that fade through a royal purple to sapphire at the tips of his primaries. He’s incredibly proud of how beautiful they are, preens sometimes in the mirror and hopes that his future mate will like them. Will run their fingers through the shimmering colours and press kisses to where they melt into his shoulders.
Out of all his friends, Peter’s wings are the most colourful, bright against MJ’s dark green and blue ones, a stark contrast with Ned’s whose are a mix of baby pink and orange. Flash always ruffles his feathers, teasing him about how ridiculous and flashy he looks. His friends reassure him that the bully is just jealous, ashamed of his own wings that are a faded red like a well-loved shirt.
Peter knows his wings are flashy though. He tries to keep his feathers tucked away when he’s working in the lab. Anytime Tony is near he presses them flat against his back. He doesn’t want to taunt his idol with what he used to have.
Despite this, sometimes he lets them flail. Tony always smiles when he sees them, runs his fingers over his own metal feathers, a replacement for the ones he lost in war-torn Afghanistan. Peter doesn’t know the details, but what he does know weighs heavy on his heart. He’s happy that Tony was able to find a mate without them. Pepper is absolutely perfect for him in every way and Peter can’t help but be happy for the two of them. They’re not soulmates but they make it work.
It’s a useless hope, but Peter wants to find his own soulmate. While Tony has proven that it’s possible to find happiness outside of destiny, something in Peter longs to find the one heart that sings perfectly in tune with his own.
Peter is puttering around Tony’s workshop when it happens. He’s in the middle of modifying the suit and trying to figure out a way to store more web fluid in it so he doesn’t run out while swinging between skyscrapers and end up splatting on the pavement. Dum-E is on his way with baby powder for the joints to prevent chafing and the elevator dings open to reveal a boy his age. Somehow the noise startles Dum-E who squeezes the bottle of baby powder in Peter’s face.
The sneeze that erupts from him next is enough to send him toppling over the workbench, his head smacking painfully on the metal of the desk and sending his work flying as he tries to keep himself upright.
From where he’s hanging upside down, Peter can see the boy trying to stifle his laughter into his fist. He’s tall and lanky, blond curls sticking out from under a worn, red baseball cap. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt and two different pairs of converse as he confidently steps through the door to stand in the workshop. Peter has never seen someone so effortlessly pretty. He’s got a duffle bag thrown over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. “Heya Tones.”
A southern accent spills past his lips and Peter blushes as all his blood rushes south, or north considering he’s still hanging upside down like an idiot. Dum-E is helping him into sitting position and Peter grabs on to his support strut with a mumbled thank you.
Lifting the bottom of his shirt up, Peter wipes the baby powder off his face. When he looks back up, the other boy has his wings splayed out and Peter finds his own wanting to do the same. He turns bright as a beet as he realizes the other boy is presenting. To him. Almost no one ever presents to Peter.
His wings are a platinum white, stunning, but fairly plain. Peter doesn’t want to show off and present, especially not with Tony standing right there, his own metal wings shifting nervously at the other boy’s blatant show of attraction.
“Peter, this is Harley. He’s more of a mechanic than a scientist, but I think you guys will get along well.” Peter blushes as Tony waggles his eyebrows suggestively, looking at Peter before looking meaningfully at Harley.
Blushing, Harley tucks his wings back against his back. He ducks his head and Peter realizes that he’s just rejected probably the only guy that has ever shown interest in him. He’ll explain about Tony later and hope Harley understands. Peter finds that he desperately wants to get to know this cutie with a southern accent. To present back and rub their wings together. A shiver runs to down Peter’s spine but he tries to hide it with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Alright kiddos, let’s go get dinner.” Tony hits the call button for the elevator, wiping his greasy fingers on his jeans. “Cap’s making lasagna and Pepper is going to be home soon. The rest of the team is also around so you finally get to meet all my cool friends.
“Sweet,” Harley steps into the elevator first when it arrives. “I’ve always wanted to get Clint to shoot a penny off my head.”
Tony laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head. “That not happening,” Tony grumbles though he doesn’t look too happy about being the voice of reason. “Your mom will have my balls if I let one of Clint’s arrows anywhere close to a single hair on your golden head.”
Harley laughs, as the doors slide open. He takes the first seat he fancies which happens to be Peter’s normal seat when he visits. Instead, Peter finds himself beside Cap this time and watches as Tony sits beside Harley without comment.
Laughter echoes around the dining table as they all eat together, the rest of the team and Pepper joining them in enjoying Steve’s amazing lasagna. The blond blushes under the compliments of his food but Peter can see the pleased twitch of his smile as he ducks his head. He’ll have to get Steve to teach him the recipe.
After dinner Tony shows Harley to the guest bedroom across from Peter’s room, his home away from home when he stays with the Avengers. He loves aunt May, he really does, but sometimes he just gets caught up in science and the last thing she wants is him coming home at four in the morning when the streets between Manhattan and Queens aren’t the best place to be, even for Spider-Man.
Showering, Peter slides into bed. It had been a pretty good day today. Other than the rough brush of feathers with Harley which he can smooth over when he sees the boy next. He can’t wait for tomorrow.
Of course, tomorrow is when it all goes to shit.
When Peter wakes up the next morning, something is seriously wrong because his feathers are a lot lighter than they were the night before. He runs into the bathroom, turning his body and angling his shoulders to look at his feathers that are definitely a lot more white than they were the night before. His colours look less striking and a little more like a pastel.
Peter doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but he hates it. He’s way too young to be going grey, or whatever the hell this happens to be. He runs his fingers through his flight feathers, tears welling in his eyes. At least Flash won’t bully him as much anymore.
Running to the living room, Peter finds Steve standing at the counter drinking orange juice right out of the container. He’s the only Avenger in the kitchen but Peter is kind of grateful that none of the others are around to witness his breakdown. The last thing he needs is even more embarrassment.
Steve’s eyes are wide in surprise and he sheepishly wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand before returning the juice jug to the fridge and shutting it. What’s wrong kiddo?” Steve bends down to offer him a warm hug, running his fingers through Peter’s curls. He holds him tight while Peter sobs into his shoulder, darkening the grey fabric of his shirt. “It’ll be okay, Pete, just tell me what’s up.”
“My wings,” Peter mumbles brokenly, his eyes filling with even more tears as he unfurls his full span. He doesn’t know what he did wrong but he just wants to hide away and pluck out all of his feathers until he’s bleeding and he can’t remember what colour they used to be. They’re not white yet, but they are significantly less vibrant than when he went to bed the night before.
Blond brows furrowed, Steve pulls away and tips his head to the side to get a closer look at Peter’s trembling wings. His confused expression gives way to surprise and then elation. “You’ve found your soulmate,” Steve whispers in awe, his eyes travelling up and down his feathers. “It’s very rare, I’ve only seen it once or twice, but the colours of your feathers and theirs are mixing. They’ll settle in a couple of days and the two of you will match.”
Peter hunches in on himself with a loud sob. He’d wanted this before, but not at the cost of his wings. So many things in his life come and go but his wings had always been the same and unchanging. He can’t say as much to Steve around his muffled sobs though. “No they’re not, Steve, they’re fading. I don’t want them to change.”
“They have to, son,” Steve says gently. “I promise that when your colours settle, they’ll be prettier than they were before.”
It’s not about being pretty though, Peter thinks to himself. It’s about his wings changing when they had always been the one constant in the hurricane of his life. He’d always relied on his wings, if he can’t trust that they’ll never change, he has nothing. He doesn’t even know who his soulmate is.
Wiping his face, Peter allows himself to be led to the breakfast table and wrapped in a fleece blanket that effectively hides his wings from view. Unable to see them, Peter can pretend that they’re still the same as they’ve always been, the same as they were less than a day ago. He breathes evenly trying to muster up his composure.
Steve gets started on oatmeal at the stove, the clank of utensils echoing loudly in Peter’s mind. He lets himself get lulled by the sound and before long, he’s forgotten all about his wings in favour of the rest of the team coming down to breakfast. Tony sits down beside him with Harley on his other side as Steve doles out their food, setting washed fruit and berries down on the table.
Tony says Pepper has already left for the office but he has the entire day to spend with Peter and Harley in the lab. Peter needs to talk to him alone though, needs to tell him about his feathers and how they’re changing. He’ll have to come up with an excuse somehow, get Tony alone so he can try and make sense of this whole soulmate thing.
In the lab, Peter catches sight of Harley’s wings, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull as he takes in the pretty purples, pinks, and blues swirling among the platinum white.
“You,” he exclaims, pointing a finger at the other boy.
Harley whirls around, his eyes wide as he takes a step back from Peter. His voice goes up a pitch as he asks, “Me?”
“Yes you,” Peter feels like he’s losing his grip on his breath far too fast, excitement and anticipation swirling in his chest. He flaps his wings out so Harley can see them. “We’re soulmates.”
He doesn’t mean for it to come out harsh. He’s more surprised than anything else cause he met this boy yesterday. But his tone is too hard and Harley’s mouth drops open and he takes another startled step back.
“Peter,” Tony scolds from where he’s sitting at his workbench, horror crossing his features.
Turning back to where Harley was standing, he just barely sees the boy disappearing behind the door for the emergency staircase. Without a second thought, Peter is running after him to explain himself. To say that he thinks Harley is beautiful and he wants to get to know him better because they’re soulmates and if the universe thinks they belong together, maybe they probably do.
Harley has his hands braced on his knees on the sidewalk outside the tower when Peter catches up with him. He’s not out of breath, he’s hyperventilating and Peter takes him with gentle hands and helps him sit on the curb. He rubs a hand up and down Harley’s back, as his wings come up to shield the both of them from passing pedestrians.
“I’m sorry about your wings,” Harley whispers. His own feathers are trembling and Peter strokes a reverent finger across them. They’re soft against his skin like the most delicate silk and Peter wants to wrap himself in them. Their feathers brush sending shivers down Peter’s spine as he leans against Harley’s side.
“I’m sorry if I sounded upset back there, I kind of was earlier, but these are not so bad. I guess I was just surprised.” Peter grabs onto the wing that isn’t around Harley’s shoulders, studying the feathers with new eyes. He frowns when he sees them changing colours under his fingers, brightening significantly under his gaze. Harley turns to look at his own wings, surprise on his features as they grow more vibrant to look just like Peter’s.
Pedestrians around them have stopped to stare, some of them murmuring and a good chunk of them snapping pictures as the colours of Harley’s and Peter’s wings slowly shift and ripple like a rainbow. The colours flirt with each other melting and coming apart until their wings are reflections of each other.
Soulmates are so rare, especially in today’s world of distance. Somehow Peter’s soulmate from Rose Hill, Tennessee managed to find him all the way in New York City. Peter already knows their pictures are going to be splashed across the lifestyle section of tomorrow’s local papers. A blush is already spreading across his cheeks at the thought and he ducks his head down, focusing on Harley’s fingers that are slowly twining with his own.
“So,” Harley says, looking up at Peter’s feathers in awe before reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers against them.
“So,” Peter echoes, a blush rising on his cheeks. He nervously scratches the back of his neck before looking up at Harley through his lashes. “You want to maybe go out to dinner, with me? Like, as a date?”
“I’d like that very much,” Harley grins, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up, brighter than any sun in Peter’s world. He knows he’s already starting to fall in love. He wraps Peter up in a warm hug and Peter can feel every fibre of his being singing. He’s exactly where he should be and he couldn’t be happier anywhere other than here in this moment with Harley and the most beautiful wings in the world. This is what coming home feels like.
Days later when Peter wakes up on the couch in Harley’s arms he gets a better look at his wings in the reflection of the glass windows. Surprised, he turns his head to find that the colours of his wings look so much brighter framed by the stark platinum of the feathers banding his secondaries.
His wings are like a million sunsets on a calm ocean, the pinking sky flirting with the waves as the bright white sun peeks over the horizon. They’re open like the vast night sky covered in a warm, beautiful blanket of stars just like Harley’s dark eyes. His wings are a splash of Harley and dash of himself and they’re a possessive brand of Harley across his back the same way Harley’s wings scream that he is Peter’s. Their wings are the two of them against the world and Peter is so happy he’s found the one person that will always understand him.
Lips against his shoulder lead Peter to turn his head toward where Harley is drawing him back into his embrace. He’s sleep warm, his eyes half-lidded as he passes Peter a radiant smile. His eyes are swirling, the blue brighter in the morning light as he lifts his hand to run his fingers across Peter’s feathers. “They look beautiful Peter, just like you.”
Peter drops his gaze to Harley’s wings, they look just like his own and Peter is so ashamed that this was ever something that he hadn’t wanted. He couldn’t be more grateful to have Harley as a soulmate. Curling into the taller boy, he presses his apology against his neck in sweet kisses. He’s drawn back into the murky grey between peaceful sleep and waking. “I’m sorry about what I said to you when I first found out.”
Tipping his head down, Harley muffles the rest of his apology in a soft kiss, licking across Peter’s lip until he parts them to let Harley in. A wave of contentment washes over Peter and he sighs against Harley’s mouth, his lips curving up into a smile as he deepens the kiss. Something deep in Peter hums and he knows that Harley is exactly everything he didn’t know he needed.
“It’s okay, darling,” Harley whispers in his ear. His southern accent is heavy and rough from the early time. He presses another soft kiss to Peter’s cheek before lying down on the couch and pulling Peter onto his chest, his wings wrapped around the two of them. The morning light splashes across his back bathing him in warmth as he noses into Harley’s neck. Tangling their legs together, Peter sighs letting his eyes slide shut wrapped in a cocoon of blue, purple, pink and the most beautiful platinum colour.