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“I can’t believe you waited until last minute,” Peter sighed strolling down the aisle’s off Bed, Bath, and Beyond. He had spent the last five days helping Harley move out of Tony’s penthouse and into another apartment that was just a bit closer to Queens. “Seriously, Keener?” The brunette snarked watching as the blonde, yet again, got distracted by something that he probably didn’t need.
“Yeah, well,” Harley shrugged, a comfortable smirk finding its way onto his face. He and Peter had known each other for a little over three months now, and he was quite surprised by just how well they got along. He had expected Peter to be a little stuck up, and snobby. When he discovered that Peter was actually just a puppy...well. Head over heels he went.
“Well nothing,” Peter snorted reaching around Harley to grab at one of the nicer sets of stainless steel pans. “Are you even going to be using this stuff? I’m pretty sure we’re just here because you want to spend some of Tony’s money.” Peter flipped the pan over in his hand, flinching minutely when he saw the price. It didn’t make any sense to him why cooking utensils were so expensive. When May had thrown him his own house warming party, they had gone on a spending spree at the nearest Good Will store. Peter didn’t need fancy things to feel comfortable, and in fact, he rather enjoyed the thought of being able to reuse, and restore something.
“And? He’s got plenty to spare,” Harley chuckled taking the pan from the curly haired brunette. He didn’t miss the slight flush that tinted Peter’s cheeks as his hands graced over Peter’s. And maybe it had lingered there just a second longer, but Peter didn’t comment, nor did he pull away. Harley Keener had a reputation to uphold as a miniature Tony Stark—Playboy, philanthropist, billionaire heir. He had slept with his fair share of people before making his way to New York. Peter had shown up on his radar, and as attracted as he found himself to the paler boy, Harley hadn’t been able to make himself comfortable with an attempt to make a move.
That did not mean, however, that he did not enjoy teasing the boy with little touches, and prolonged glances. And maybe even a few flirty lines that Peter always just brushed off away.
“That still doesn’t make it fair to him,” Peter deadpanned snatching the pan back from the other boy and placing it back on the shelf. “He’s already paying for your apartment, and my college. We could at least cut him a break.” The brunette worried his lip between his teeth as he worked on steering Harley further into the store. He figured if he left the other boy alone long enough, he would be just like Tony, and end up buying the entire store. Not that it would make too bad of a dent in Tony’s pocket. But he wasn’t really looking forward to hearing that phone call.
“Ohh,” Harley gasped as they passed by the decor section. The small space was home to several shiny mirrors, candles, and different scent difusers, as well as different paintings that had been mass produced. “Candles,” Harley hummed picking up the first one he saw—Pink Sands by Yankee Candle. Tugging the lid off, he turned it up towards his nose and sniffed. Peter watched, completely unamused by how easily the blonde was distracted. “I need this one,” He groaned plopping it in the cart carefully before going on to the next scent—a nice warm vanilla. It reminded him of home, and when his mom would bake on the weekends. It reminded him of Abby, and the horses that they had in the pastures. “And this one,” He nodded adding the second candle in with the first.
“Two should be fine,” Peter nodded, trying to look through the different pieces that would spice up Harley’s place and make it distinctly Harley—or messy and cluttered until the blonde couldn’t stand it, and then did his own rendition of what he considered cleaning. For as messy as Peter kept his work station, Aunt May would murder him if he left any kind of dirty dishes in the sink for more than twenty four hours. Also, he wasn’t exactly a big fan of reaching his hand into greasy, cold water that had sat over night to soak the dishes.
“And this one. Oh and this one,” Harley muttered grabbing two more candles and turning to face the “Peter Parker’s Purely Purturbed” TM look. Harley had coined the name after getting the look one too many times. The brunette had his lips pursed, a brow arched, and eyes narrowed. He had seen a similar look on Pepper’s face when Tony had gone on a spree. It typically caused the inventor to tuck his tail between his legs and go return most of his purchase. He always held on to just a few items.
“You don’t need any more candles,” Peter sighed grabbing the few extras that Harley had managed to sneak into the buggy during his momentary glimpse at printed paint on canvas. “You’ll end up burning down your apartment.”
“But this one smells like pumpkin spice,” Harley whined trying to place the light orange candle in with the rest of their purchases. “You love pumpkin!”
“Yes because I’m basic. But it’s not even fall, Harley. You get to pick two.”
“But—”
“Two, Harley. And then we’re moving on to bedding!”