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Another day. Another sentence in purgatory.
Peter Parker sighs to himself as he endures the last tortuous minutes of his A.P. chemistry course. It was the last period of his day, and with it being Friday, he had the weekend to look forward to.
Well, as much of it as he could look forward to anyway. MJ was away on a trip with her family, and Ned was sick with pneumonia. Other than homework or going out on patrol, Peter’s prospects of doing anything with his non existent social life were zero to none.
Finally, the bell rings, and there is a collective air of joy which permeates throughout the room as all the students sigh in relief. T.G.I.F.!
Peter closes his notebook, penned with immaculate notes, and sets it along with his textbook neatly into his backpack. He curses as the main zipper snags for the umpteenth time that week. He was in no position to ask May to chip in for a new one when money was so tight for them, and while he could go to Mr. Stark, it was such a trivial issue that he’d rather put up with it. Most of his possessions, aside from the Spider-suit, were second hand as it was. This was nothing new.
He gets up, slings his bag across his back, and is among the last of the students to leave the room. Once he gets to his locker, he grabs his jacket and makes sure to exchange the necessary books he will need for homework over the weekend. He’s calculating his allotted time for his assignments between patrol duties when that familiar jolt of precognition hits him.
Only in his high school is Peter ever able to not only recognize the imminent threat of danger from his Spider Sense, but identify the threat itself. Genius though he was, it took little reasoning to discern that the threat in question was none other than…
“Oy, Penis! Coming to my party tomorrow?” Flash Thompson inquires as he shoves Peter’s face into his locker. Durable as he was, Peter feels a small shot of pain shoot through his jaw as it bangs into the side of his locker’s door. It’ll heal soon enough, but he knows this will leave a bruise.
Mocking laughter envelops the hallway as Flash’s goons flank the bully on either side. Peter knows he could fend them off easily, suit or no suit. Problem is, like always, he can’t risk compromising his abilities. It would lead to too many questions. Questions he couldn’t answer, and no amount of Stark money would be able to cover up. He was cornered, much like a spider being leered at by a hungry bird of prey.
“Whatever Flash. Not really my thing,” Peter deadpans, hoping his tone is as noncommittal as possible. The less of a rise Flash is able to get out of him, the more likely he’d sooner get let off.
“Hmpf! Well, whatever to you Parker. It’s not like I’m givin’ ya an invite anyway. Don’t need a cocksucker cramping my space either!”
Flash’s friends snicker as the homophobic jab, and while they don’t catch it, a glint of anger flashes in Peter’s eyes.
The boys didn’t know it, and Peter had never told anyone aside from MJ and Ned about his sexuality. Not even May or Mr. Stark knew that he identified as gay.
It wasn’t like Peter was ashamed of it, nor did he feel that he was a bad or disgusting person for liking boys. He just hated the idea of handing more ammunition over for Flash to bully him, or that people might start seeing him differently. He had enough pressure on his adolescent shoulders juggling a double life as a high school student by day, and web slinging crime fighter by night. As nice as having a boyfriend sounded, he had resolved to himself that it wouldn’t be meant to be until perhaps college, or later.
“But anyways, since we won’t see you at the party…” Flash continues, getting an evil look in his eyes. “I thought I’d at least give you a consolation prize. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”
Peter curses to himself. Flash normally stroked his overinflated ego enough with some verbal harassment, and nothing more. This was another level, and without witnesses or MJ and Ned to back him up, he couldn’t react without revealing his superhuman abilities.
“No thanks, Flash. No worries. I’m not going to feel bad about it.”
It’s a vain attempt to keep Flash and the others off his case, and sure enough, it doesn’t work. Flash shakes his head.
“Eh, no. I insist. I’m a generous guy after all.”
And while he has plenty of time to react or fight back, Peter lets himself be grabbed on either side as Flash’s cronies take his arms. They half drag him to the men’s restroom, where after making sure the coast is clear, Flash bangs open a stall.
“Ok boys. You know what to do. Head first.”
Peter nearly throws up in disgust. Sure enough, Flash had chosen the dirtiest looking toilet in not just that bathroom, but all of Midtown High. This was going too far, and he’d be damned if he was going to play the victim. He was NOT letting his head go anywhere near that toilet.
“Not gonna happen Thompson.”
He runs his luck, and wrenches his arms quickly from his captors. He makes it look like he was able to wiggle out while they got lax with their hold, and he tries to turn and make a run for it. One of the boy’s trips him with a leg he doesn’t see however, and he goes sprawling. What good was his Spider sense if he fell for such an obvious trap?
He gets up, only to feel a fist hit him in the side. It’s not enough to seriously wound him, though it does knock the air out of his lungs. Peter falls once more, and can see Flash towering over him.
“Hmm. You know, I think it will. It’s time you learned your place around here Parker,” Flash sneers.
Both of Flash’s cronies grab him again, and he’s still too disoriented to make another attempt and fight back. He can’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. Suddenly, he hears the door to the bathroom slam open behind him.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
Peter can’t see behind him, but he knows that voice. It could only belong to the boy who he’d been crushing on for the better part of two years, after all.
“Get outta here Keener. It doesn’t concern you,” Flash snaps. Peter can see his lifelong tormentor, and the jerk does not look amused.
“The fuck it doesn’t. Let go of Parker, or it’s your ugly mug going into that crapper Thompson.”
Flash makes a lunge, and while Peter could only watch as the asshole passed by him, he hears a fist connecting with flesh, followed by a howl of pain. His super hearing had never failed him before, and he could tell his surprise saviour hadn’t been the one struck by the first blow.
Each of the boys lets go of him and turn to go after Harley. Another thump can be heard, and when Peter looks back, he sees Harley kick the last of his assailants between the legs. All three boys are on the dirty floor, holding their respective injuries. Peter can’t help but be slightly impressed. Harley’s performance was commendable, especially as a regular civilian.
“Parker, follow me. I’d rather not be here in case the janitor comes and finds these pricks.”
The boy nods, and feels his feet move him out of the bathroom as he follows his rescuer. Was this really happening now? He was Peter Parker. AKA, Spider-Man. AKA, vanquisher of muggers and criminals all around the streets of New York City, and he had needed to have his butt saved by an everyday guy from Bumbfuck Nowhere, Tennessee?
Only after Harley leads him out of the school doors does he turn and stop walking. He gives Peter a once over, and even comes up to run a thumb along Peter’s jaw. The smaller boy winces as the contact sets off his sensitive flesh, and he can’t help but have a blush crawl up his neck and burn across his face. He had never been this physically close to Harley.
“You alright darlin’?”
Peter looks up into the dazzling blue eyes he’s pined over for months. While he had mentioned being gay to his two best friends, he’d mentioned nothing to either of them regarding his crush on the cowboy casanova. The teasing alone would have been relentless.
“Um. I’m f-f-fine. T-thanks for your help back t-there, really. T-they never know w-when to quit.”
Peter curses himself for his nervous stutter, feeling like an idiot. To his surprise, Harley doesn’t make fun of him for it, but lets out a well spirited laugh.
“My pleasure sweetheart. C’mon. I know a place to get some really good street dogs. My treat, if you’re up for it?”
Peter fights back the blush that’s getting too comfortable staying plastered on his face. That’s twice now Harley has used terms of endearment for him, and while he knows Southerners had a way of giving backhanded compliments or nicknames, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his crush wasn’t being mean or vindictive. He got none of the same vibes he would from any insults coming from Flash.
He nods again, and against his better judgement, finds himself following the blonde as they leave the school grounds. Peter typically would ride the subway to and from school, but with it being a weekend, he’d be able to afford a later ride and kill some time. It was almost like a dream come to life, in a way. He was spending an evening with mankind’s most handsome gentleman not even an hour after having faced the threat of an inopportune swirlie.
They walk for several blocks before they get to the destination Harley had in mind. The taller boy walks up to the cart, asks for two dogs, and turns to ask Peter which toppings he’d like.
“Er.” Peter hesitates. He’d never had anyone buy him anything other than his aunt, or against his wishes, Mr. Stark. “Ketchup is fine.”
After they get their street food, Harley leads Peter to a close by park. They find a bench in front of an ornate water fountain, and the Southerner takes a big bite of his hotdog, chewing enthusiastically. Peter takes a small bite, before going back for a quick second. It did taste pretty good. Seasoned to perfection.
“So.” Peter looks up. Harley is staring straight at him, azure orbs peering into his soul.
“What’s a smart, sweet guy like you doin’ hangin’ around an ass like Thompson?”
Peter lets out a nervous chuckle, but stops once he notices Harley frowning with a raised eyebrow. He swallows and takes a sigh.
“W-well, we weren’t really hanging out. I was just getting some books out of my locker, before Flash and his friends cornered me. Before I knew it, they wanted to see if they could get the bookworm soaked with toilet water. Pretty lame prank if you ask me.”
Peter tries letting out another half hearted laugh, but Harley only frowns more. No, that wasn’t just it. The boy looks pissed.
“Yeah, real original prank there.” Peter is surprised by the bitterness in the blonde’s voice. It would have been clear to anyone listening that the boy held nothing but contempt for his bench buddy’s tormentors. “You should stick up for yourself Pete. You’re a cool guy, and thugs like that shouldn’t get away with tryin’ and mess with you.”
Peter scoffs and waves a hand in dismissal. Who is this guy, telling him how to live his life?
“Please,” he retorts. “I stick up for myself plenty. Didn’t have much of a fighting chance this time, that’s all. I mean, it was three on one. Hardly fair.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Harley says without skipping a beat. “I beat their asses one on three, and it was still a cakewalk. Ain’t got nothin’ on this raw, unbridled, manly wrangler.”
Peter guffaws and almost falls off of the bench, roaring with laughter. He feels a sharp pain where his side was struck earlier, but doesn’t care. He can’t stop himself from giggling.
After a moment, he composes himself, and sees that Harley is staring intently at him again. He looks away shyly, but manages to ask the question anyways.
“W-what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Harley is quiet, so Peter looks back and raises an eyebrow. The taller boy is smirking.
“No reason really. It’s just… your laugh is kinda cute, handsome.”
Blood rushes to Peter’s cheeks so quickly, that he’s surprised to not see heat radiate off of his body. What kind of person just said that to someone? He was flattered, to a point, that his crush considered him cute. But still. What the hell was with all of this flirting?
“Hmm. And you’re even cuter when you blush. Good to know,” Harley practically purrs.
Before he can say anything, Peter watches as the blonde suddenly scoots closer on the bench. They’re alone in the park, and he doesn’t know what to make of this sudden development.
“H-harley? W-what, what are you-”
His words catch in his throat when Harley gets too close to his face. He can feel the tickle of the larger boy’s breath on his cheek, and smells a faint scent of cologne. Was that… fucking musk?
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed Parker.” Harley is too close, too in his face. He can’t take in anything else around him. It is just the two of them, on this bench, without anything else in the world worthy of their attention. Peter gulps nervously.
“N-noticed what?”
Harley’s smirk gets bigger, before he raises his lips to Peter’s ears. He speaks in the most sultry voice the web slinger has ever heard.
“You know exactly what. The long glances during our classes, the way you let out that small smile whenever I wave to you in the halls, and how red your face gets when I change next to you in the locker room for gym. You like me Parker, and I’ll tell you something special…”
A warm pressure presses against his cheek, and Peter almost spasms in shock. Those were lips Harley was pressing against him!
“I like you too.”
Peter backs away, feeling the sweat drip down the back of his neck. His crush… liked him back? Was this real life? Was someone messing with his head using the Reality Stone?
As scared as he is of this development, Peter can feel the jackhammering of his heart in his chest. If there’s a chance he can take for romance, and if it’s with the boy he’s adored for too long, then maybe…
“Harley.”
Peter says it as softly as he can, but with as much care and passion as he is capable. With the mere utterance of the boy’s name, Peter pleads his most sincere desire in that moment.
“Can, can I…”
Harley stares at him, rapt with attention. As he falters, Peter sees the urging nod the blonde gives him. He takes a deep breath before starting again.
“Can… I kiss you?”
Harley smiles, and there's none of the cocky smarm from before. It’s a smile that could light up a whole room.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
And Peter feels those lips once more, infinitely better as they press upon his own. The moment is euphoric, and but the first of many more to come.