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“Harley Keener and Morgan Stark!” Peter’s voice echoed throughout the small, rather empty apartment.
“All you!” Morgan giggled ducking into the kitchen to hide from the wrath that no doubt awaited both of them behind the small bedroom door. For all of Harley’s knowledge about the brunette, he had little know how in the way of calming him down—or even approaching him while he was upset.
“Traitor!” Harley hissed, finally standing up from his position on the well worn couch. He shoved his hands in his pocket, and did his best impression of “Peter Parker’s Kicked Puppy” look. Which meant he had to make his eyes look as big as humanly possible—because there was no way that such doe eyes belonged on anyone other than Peter himself. He hunched his shoulders in and made his way towards the door on the opposite side of the apartment. “You called?”
“Would you like to tell me,” Peter held up a small gray tabby kitten. He looked both unimpressed and completely enamored by the small animal that Harley and Morgan had snuck in earlier that day. They had found it when Harley had taken Morgan to the park to meet up with her current best friends—third grade meant she went through several different groups before finally settling into a nice clique. Or at least, one that everyone in the family had approved of. How Morgan thought Anna Brendell was a good person, Harley will never know. “Why do I have a little kitty cat in my apartment? Because I certainly don’t remember bringing one home.”
“Well you see,” Harley rubbed at the back of his neck. The kitten squirmed, pushing itself further into Peter’s chest, before rubbing its head along the older boys chin.
Boom. You can’t say no to that.
Harley watched as whatever resolve Peter had had about the kitten completely dissolved, until he sighed. He had resigned himself to being the parent of a little kitten that, as far as he knew, didn’t have a name. Besides, with the way it was making biscuits on his arms, how would he be able to turn it away?
“Alright,” Peter sighed glancing up at Harley. “What’s its name?”
“Dezzy!” Morgan chirped from the other side of the door. She had heard any yelling, and thought it safe to make her way over to the duo. “I found him in the park!”
“No tags?”
Morgan shook her head. It had been the first thing they looked for whenever she had run up to Harley, the small animal dangling from her arms. Peter turned his questioning glance to Harley, asking for reassurance.
“No tags.”
“Fine. But you have to be the one to pay for the vet bills.” Peter pointed at Harley. “And you have to come over twice a week to clean his litter box.” He moved his finger to Morgan this time.
“Sure! Uncle Happy wont mind! It’s closer than mom and dads!” Morgan grinned rushing forward to snag Dezzy out of Peter’s arms. “C’mon! Let’s go watch Garfield, and shop for some cat toys!”
“Use Tony’s card!” Harley called over his shoulder as the seven year old rushed past him.
“Kay!” Morgan giggled, completely unaware that the blonde was shutting the door on her.
“A cat,” Peter groaned falling back on his bed. He didn’t move as Harley crawled over him and paused staring down at him. “Really?”
“Yepp,” Harley grinned, reaching one of his hands up to sweet Peter’s nose, before falling beside him on the bed.