Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Call Declined, Boss” The Irish voice rang out in the lab, unlike every other week.

Tony looks up at the ceiling, as if he could see FRIDAY if he tried hard enough. “I’m sorry, what? The kid declined my call? Our weekly cancel-all-your-other-plans-because-i’m-more-important-call?”

The sarcasm lacing his voice was thick, a meager attempt at hiding his concern. The kid always picked up the phone. They threw insults back and forth, talking about robots and coding for hours before it got too late in the night for Tony to (legally) keep a child awake with his shenanigans.

“Try again, Fri. Twice more, if he doesn’t pick up the first time. So help me God, Keener, you better not be ghosting a billionaire.”

The threat didn’t seem to make its way to Tennessee, seeing as Harley still didn’t answer the - very insistent - calls of one Tony Stark.

Confusion bled into concern as Tony tried to keep calm. It wasn’t like Harley to not answer the call. It was at the same time, same day every week. Even the conversations were practically the same every single week. If he ever needed to reschedule the call, he’d mention it in advance. A school trip, an overload of homework, he’d tell Tony before the fact. He’d never left him hanging like this before.

Tony tried to keep himself occupied. He looked over the dozens of blueprints that littered the many worktables in the lab. Despite staring at a particular sketch of a new repulsor model, he couldn’t focus on it. He spent maybe two - no, three hours pacing his lab, asking FRIDAY to pull up any and every information on Harley Keener. He even went so far as to run facial recognition on any open sources from New York to Tennessee, he needed to make sure the kid was okay.

Right as his search for intel was getting just a little creepy, FRIDAY startled Tony out of his frantic antics.

“Someone’s here to see you, Boss.” Somehow, Tony would swear that her voice sounded pleased, thankful. She was just an AI after all, so it was doubtful that she would have had any intonation in her voice at all, maybe Tony was just projecting because he needed -

“Hey, Mechanic.”

“Harley! Kid, what the hell are you doing here?” Tony rushed to hug his (first) prodigy, glad he was safe, but oh so confused.

“Just, uh, thought I’d hop a bus to NYC?” Harley leaned into the hug, he hadn’t actually seen Tony in person since he was 11 years old. Maybe when explaining himself, his excuse shouldn’t have sounded so much like a question, though.

“You just, uh, thought you’d come to New York, unsupervised, after not answering my calls and not seeing me in, uh, 6 years?” One of his favorite pastimes was definitely mocking the kids that surrounded him. Tony loved the quick wits he imparted on his teenage lab rats.

They broke apart, Tony holding Harley’s shoulders tightly, reassuringly. The latter’s cheeks were flushing a scarlet color, clear embarrassment written on his features.

He quickly started mumbling excuses, trying to justify himself. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called, you have a life here, and I totally cannot just jump on that. Uh, I’ll just, go to a hotel? New York has cheap hotels right? Yeah, okay, I just wanted to say hi.”

Harley’s rambling did nothing for him. Tony was glad that he was okay, relieved even. He was confused, definitely, but he’d address that at a later time.

“What the hell are you talking about? First of all, you need to be 21 to rent a hotel room. Second of all, New York does not have any worthwhile cheap ones. Third, obviously you can stay here. Are you kidding? I haven’t seen you since you were shorter than a smurf, I’m not letting you stay in some shabby place because you think you’re not welcome here.”

Tony made sure he knew he was welcome. Though his appearance was unexpected, it wasn’t unappreciated. He loved seeing the kid, especially after such a long time apart.

Last he’d heard of the kid was the previous week on their call. Tony had just quipped at him for working on a new version of his potato launcher.

“Another potato gun? Really? Are you sure you’re Southern and not Irish? This obsession is bordering on hoarding potatoes in case of another famine, kid.” Tony asked through the phone, desperately trying to keep his cackling to a minimum.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just lucky we live hundreds of miles apart, or these potatoes would be breaking windows in your multi-billion dollar lab left and right.” Harley responded, polishing the automated launcher using a Metallica T-Shirt Tony had sent him the month prior. Apparently it was better than a regular rag.

“As if that gun has any kind of power. It couldn’t even dent a McDonald’s stool on its best day.” Obviously Tony had never actually set foot inside a McDonald's, he always had Happy pick it up, but the sentiment was there.

“Oh but it could definitely shove a potato way up your a-"

“Alright, goodbye. See ya next week, kid.” He made sure to cut Harley off before he would say anything he might regret later, especially since FRIDAY records any and all calls. (Blackmail? Tony Stark would never!)

Tony really loved this kid. The sense of humour he imparted on him was a little less than classy, but it just made the both of them laugh harder. He’d do anything to protect him, keep him safe. If that meant he’d have to stock the fridge a little more, or he’d have a little less stationary lying around for a few days, then so be it.

So be it.

Whoa. Harley was not expecting that.

Smurfs are like 3 inches tall.

That was rude.

“Oh.”

That was all he managed to say. The shock of how welcoming Tony was being didn’t seem to fade for a while.

Tony invited him further into the lab, saying they should catch up on their missed call. Harley smiled at that, already feeling better than when he left Tennessee a mere 14 hours ago.

They looked over new blueprints, Harley designing a few of his own, marvelling at the state of the art lab. The cool grey accents to the white and glass walls reminded Harley just how modern and rich Tony was. He’d never really cared about the money, but he sure did appreciate it when Tony would send him more supplies. It was more the mentorship that Harley latched onto, rather than the semi-constant stream of money that it entailed.

Just as Harley moved onto the material-finding-phase of his newest invention (a robot that rivals U and DUM-E, not that Tony would ever admit it), Tony asked the question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue since he’d arrived.

“Kid?” He asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you really come to New York?”

Oh.

Of course Tony was going to ask. He wouldn’t just have Harley settle into his rich, powerful, prominent Avengers Tower without asking why the hell he was even here.

Harley just wished he’d have a couple more hours of peace. A few more moments where he didn’t have to think about Tennessee. About what he had to leave behind.

Silence overcame the lab.

Tony stopped his tinkering to look at Harley, his gaze searching the boy’s soul for an answer. A hint at what could’ve pushed him to cross 723 miles on a very random Saturday.

“They kicked me out.”

Harley hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. He wanted to calmly explain what had happened, maybe throw in a joke or two to lighten the mood as he described the events of the weeks - months, really, that led to his mother and stepfather kicking him out.

But he could feel Tony’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and he couldn’t take that anymore. The feeling like he was lying to the one person who’d been there and who had always given him what he’d needed.

Not only was he a friend on their weekly calls, but he helped him figure out career paths, school options, they even started looking at colleges. He couldn’t lie to his mentor.

So instead of calmly, sincerely explaining the details, he just spit it out. Before he knew what he had said, it was out there.

The truth.

They had kicked him out.

Oh.

Now it was Tony’s turn to be speechless.

So many questions tormented him in so little time. They flashed in his mind one after the other, staying for only a moment, leaving him to ponder them as he stared at the kid in question.

“They did what?” He tried so hard to keep calm, for Harley if nothing else.

If Tony wasn’t sure what he was feeling, he sure as hell was now.

Angry. He was so full of white hot anger, brimming with rage and feeling this wrath consume him from the inside. How could they kick him out? What could he have possibly done that was so horrible that they kicked out a child? They didn’t have any excuse. Tony was not going to let this slide. They would pay for what they did to the kid. His kid. Because now, Harley was his kid. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t biologically his, or even legally his, if his family decided to kick out a 16 year old, then that child was no longer theirs. Tony would take care of him. He’d make sure he had everything he ever wanted or needed in his life. He’ll be damned if he lets someone else hurt Harley. God knows what trauma he’s going to take away from being kicked out of his home as a kid. Tony would be there with him through it all. The kid had already lost his father, and now he lost his mother, stepfather, and sister too, by their own hand.

Tony could see Harley lean on the nearest worktable. He was wringing his hands together, staring intently at them as if they were the most fascinating things in the world, too timid (scared?) to raise his eyes.

Tony felt his emotions seeping into his face, the flashes of confusion and anger. All he could do at the sight of his kid was sigh and get closer to him.

“Come on, kid. Let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a long day.” Tony placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Harley finally looked up to meet Tony’s eyes. They were kind, caring. Tony had only ever used sarcastic glares, eye rolls and panic ridden gazes. This was a new side to Tony that Harley had never seen, that he didn’t even think existed. Maybe time had softened him? It had been 6 years, he was still as sarcastic, but maybe he also had - somehow - managed to grow a heart.

Tony guided Harley to another floor. He was talking to him, but the kid wasn’t paying attention, presumably from exhaustion.

He brought him to the penthouse, giving a smile and a nod towards Pepper, who was sitting on the couch reading quietly.

Tony directed Harley to a guest room, telling him to settle in and that they could make the room more to his taste tomorrow. He left Harley to his devices, hesitantly pressing a soft kiss to his head before heading back to his fiancée.

Pepper stayed seated, though her book was discarded on the coffee table in front of the couch. Her eyes trailed after the boys as Tony led them towards the guest room.

As Tony walked back towards her, she couldn’t wipe the confusion and concern off her face. She didn’t recognize the boy, but if he was staying here, it was by necessity.

“Is he okay? He looked a little dazed,” she commented, not untruthfully.

“Yeah, I think he will be. You remember Harley, right?”

“Harley?” Her gaze was questioning, like she was hoping Tony would supply her with the answer, when it clicked.

“Keener? The one that helped you with the Mandarin?”

Tony chuckled lightly at the memory that he let an 11 year old child help him with the Mandarin.

“That’s the one.” A smile tugged at his lips, his fondness for the kid only growing.

“He’s grown up a lot, doesn’t look like the pictures you showed me anymore.” She smiled softly at him, inviting him onto the seat next to her.

“He’s really great. Didn’t think he’d grown up all that much, but he showed up here and, man was I thrown.” He sat down and sighed, his thoughts floating, his brows furrowing now and again as comfortable silence surrounded the couple.

He dropped his head into his hands, trying to figure out what his next steps would be.

“You know I love you, and I’m definitely not saying he can’t stay, but why is Harley here?” That was so Pepper. She would never deny Tony a chance to bring - yet another - teenager home, but she at least wanted to know why this was becoming a (almost) regular occurrence.

“He was kicked out.”

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths.

Ugh.

It was as awful coming out of his mouth as he had expected. His gritted teeth and harsh glare were enough of a hint for Pepper to understand that Tony cared about the kid and didn’t approve of the situation. (If the kiss on his head wasn’t proof enough already.)

“He can stay here as long as he likes,” Pepper said with a smile, getting up and rubbing Tony’s back on her way to their bedroom.

Harley didn’t take long to flop onto the huge bed in the guest room.

The half-day spent in a bus was not exactly a thrilling way to spend his time.

He felt out of place here, slightly. Tony was being really welcoming, which was both so great and so unsettling.

Maybe it’d make more sense tomorrow.

He closed his eyes, and in mere minutes he was out like a light.

He was getting some much needed sleep, and much needed peace.

Chapter Text

Rays of sunshine slowly filled Harley’s guest room as dusk turned to dawn. The curtains had remained opened due to the hastily executed bedtime routine Harley had accomplished last night. The boy soaked up the warmth of the sun that reached his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He blinked a few times, remembering where he was, and closed his eyes again with a heavy sigh.

This was certainly not what he had been expecting, but it was undeniably the better option. A 93-story high-tech all-expenses-paid ‘hotel’ where he could live as long as he liked? Or a crappy motel that he could probably only afford a 2-night stay that would reek of mildew and bug spray? Yeah, this was a pretty obvious choice.

Harley rose to his feet slowly, taking in the sight of his bedroom, and it’s gorgeous view. He was in the penthouse, after all. He could see the streets of New York filled with cars of bright red or somber grey, rushing around like water through an overly-complex pipeline. Skyscrapers towering over small bodegas and corner stores. The scene before him was vastly different from the one he knew back home. Rolling hills, fields as far as the eye can see. A rare road or two connecting homes to a tiny town that had just enough supplies for the measly population that resided in Rose Hill.

The teenager made his way to the closet, picking out a pair of Stark Industries sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. He tiptoed out of his room, unsure what time it was, carefully observing the penthouse he found himself in. He hadn’t been in the right mind to marvel at the sheer hugeness of the apartment. The open floor plan allowed him to see almost the entire 93rd story, aside from the bedrooms and bathrooms.

He walked through the living room, observing in as much scrutiny as possible the 92 inch T.V. and the leather couch big enough for an entire Amish village. The flooring changed from oak wood planks to dark grey ceramic tiles, signalling Harley’s entrance into the most modern looking kitchen he’d ever seen.

He looked around curiously, he made an aborted move to open the fridge, reconsidering and deciding to wait for Tony for breakfast. He realized, quickly enough, that he had no idea what time it was, nor where Tony was. A glance around the floor confirmed he wasn’t in his eyesight, leaving him no choice, in this mystery tower, but to ask that only person that’s constantly around.

“Hey, um, FRIDAY?” Harley asked, uncertainly.

“ Hello, Mr. Keener. How may I be of assistance?” Though FRIDAY was very new to Harley, he still found her voice reassuring. It was kind, patient, and always had the answer. She left no room for error, no time for anxieties. Harley found that comforting.

He thought it best to start with the easiest question. “What time is it?”

“ It is currently 9:17am.”

Well, at least he hadn’t slept in too late. He proceeded with his second question, the one that was most important. “Where’s Tony?”

“ Boss is currently located in his lab on the 92nd floor.”

As to be expected. He should’ve assumed as much, having known Tony for half a decade, already.

Harley trotted towards the elevator, a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sheer insanity of his current predicament. He entered the empty cabin and was immediately taken to the level below the penthouse.

As the doors to the laboratory opened, Harley’s ears were greeted with a low-level… Ariana Grande song? Now, Harley doesn’t judge people too harshly for their music taste, there’s something for everyone, but this seemed… extraordinary.

“Tony?” He called out into the grand room.

A mop of curly brown hair raised to meet his gaze. A look of confusion spread across both boys’ faces. Harley opened his mouth to speak, but the other teenager beat him to it.

“Um, who are you? And, um, how exactly are you here? This lab isn’t really… y’know, accessible to all interns and stuff.”

Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t ‘exactly’ supposed to be here either, now was he?

“How about I ask you the same thing, mystery boy,” Harley responded, sounding more sure of himself than he felt. He was determined to keep his cool faced facade for as long as humanly possible in front of this prepubescent intruder.

“Whoa! That’s such a cool accent! Where are you from?” The boy leaped from his seat and weaved his way across the myriad of tables, half-built robots and suits, and stopped a couple of feet from Harley, eyeing him expectantly. His serious expression from before was completely forgotten, pure wonder replacing it in mere seconds.

“...Tennessee? Weren’t you all hot and bothered just a minute ago? Ready to shuck me like an ear o’ corn?” Harley was definitely taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. He kept his own firm stance faced with the other boy.

“‘Shuck me like an ear of corn,’ oh, my god, I love the way you talk! I’m Peter, Peter Parker, I’m Mr. Stark’s intern.” The boy, Peter, held his hand out excitedly to Harley, eyes gleaming with joy.

“Harley Keener, I’m an old friend of Tony’s.” He politely shook Peter’s hand, still weary of the boy’s mood swing, but more relaxed now that he knew he had Tony Stark’s stamp of approval. “Do you happen to know where he might be? FRIDAY said he was here, but apparently she’s a filthy liar.” He added with a smirk.

“Oh yeah! He was here a minute ago, said he went to get coffee. I’m pretty sure it won’t be his first cup of the day, but y’know what can you do. He’s a genius for a reason, maybe caffeine’s the reason why he’s so amazing, wouldn’t that be something? If coffee was like some super powerful genius-making drink that suddenly bumped everyone’s IQs up like 200 points-” Peter rambled on and on, talking a mile a minute, faster than the speed of sound itself. He only cut himself off when he saw Harley raise an eyebrow and lean back onto his worktable.

“You sure do like talkin’, don’t you?” Harley asked as a laugh brightened his look.

“Yeah, sorry, I know it can be annoying.” Peter responded much more quietly, looking down at his shoes.

“Don’t apologize, it’s cute.” Peter’s head turned up at that, blush creeping into his cheeks, and a smile playing at his lips. They stood there for a minute or two, the silence only growing until a string of curses made both of them turn to the door.

“God, those people have absolutely no respect for the man who houses them. ‘I went on a run at 5’, ‘I was up all night in the lab’, ‘I just woke up’, all sorry excuses for not leaving me any coffee. Pete, how would you feel if we abandoned the Avengers, this was the last straw for me.” Tony was staring at his phone during the entirety of his rant, leaving no time to notice Harley’s presence.

“You’d do anything for coffee, wouldn’t you, Mechanic?” Harley asked, purposefully revealing his presence in a provocative way.

“Well, I know for sure coffee would do the same for me, so yes.” Tony said with a slight tilt of the head. “Good morning, kiddo. You sleep alright?”

Harley was, once again, surprised by Tony’s parental attitude, but he didn’t let that seep into his features as he responded. “Yeah, bed’s really comfy, thanks.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully at Harley’s answer, unsure of how true he believed it to be. Instead of quizzing him endlessly, or tricking him into giving a truthful answer, Harley was merely offered breakfast and a workbench right smack dab in the middle of the lab.

Peter agreed to breakfast for the both of them, suggesting blueberry pancakes, like he always does. He even offered to make them himself, insisting he really was a great cook.

Tony’s obnoxious scoff resonated through the vast lab, a cackle following closely behind the first outburst. “A great cook , he says. Kid, you’re not even a good cook, let alone great.”

“Hey! I resent that, I’m a terrific chef,” Peter protested, defending his talents with all his might.

“Oh yeah? Then how about that time you forgot to put any water when boiling noodles ,” Tony countered, planning a dozen other examples, readying himself for the inevitable rebuttals forthcoming.

“That’s not fair! May never told me it needed water, she just said to cook the noodles in a pot!” Rebuttal number 1.

“Well, we can’t forget when you seasoned a steak with sugar instead of salt. Seriously, Pete, how could you even think that was okay?”

“They did a coffee rub one time on Masterchef, so I thought a sugar rub could also be good!” Rebuttal number 2.

Harley watched the debate with a bewildered, yet amused look on his face. The dynamic the two others seemed to have was much closer than boss and intern. It was, dare he say, almost a father-son bond.

After a few more minutes of accusations towards Peter, Harley grew hungry and decided to take matters into his own hands, heading to the elevator and calling to the boys over his shoulder.

“Blueberry pancakes and an extra-strong pot of coffee, coming up. I just need someone to show me where the kitchen is, and where all the ingredients are, and also probably how to use the presumably-super-fancy stove,” Harley announced loudly, effectively shutting the others up.

“ I can be of assistance, Mr. Keener,” FRIDAY announced as she lit up the way to the elevator, ready to take him down the half-dozen floors to the nearest kitchen.

Peter and Tony turned to their guest, only to see him waving them goodbye as the elevator doors closed in front of him. They turned to each other surprised, a playful smile tugging at Peter’s lips. The teen took off at a run, a sprint , down the stairs to meet his new acquaintance. Tony waited out the elevator, not nearly as rushed to go see his kids.

Peter ran through the living room and into the kitchen of the common floor, nearly knocking over a few antique vases along the way. His race ended when he saw Harley holding a cookbook in one hand, a measuring cup in the other. His hair, shoulders and part of the countertop were dusted with flour. It had only been a minute, how could he have possibly made a mess already?

“The flour usually goes inside the measuring cup here, in case y’all do it differently in the South,” Peter said, moving towards the sink to grab a rag and help clean up the mess.

“Actually, cooking works the same in Tennessee, except we do it better.”

“I can see that,” Peter said with a light chuckle, causing Harley’s eyes to wander from his station to the bright brown eyes full of glee. “Maybe I’m not so bad of a cook, after all,” Peter continued, clearly unimpressed by the display before him.

The boys cleaned up a little before diving into the recipe. Measuring flour and sugar, cracking eggs single-handed, whisking so vigorously the bowl threatened to break. They danced around the kitchen island, passing the batter back and forth, throwing ingredients around like idiots. 

Their friendship had started so suddenly, but it was so easy to be comfortable around each other. Harley had found a friend in Peter, he had found someone who understood him. Neither of them were like the average kids in their school, they were much smarter, and quite a bit dorkier. The jokes they made over the pancakes were of the same taste, one about blueberries being full of antioxidants (which was funny to exclusively the two of them), another about how Gordon Ramsay would rate the dish. It was a bond that grew stronger by the second, despite Peter’s shyness and usual awkwardness. Harley was of a calmer nature, but he still found himself getting nervous around Peter. It would be normal, seeing as they barely knew each other. The butterflies in his stomach were definitely just because Peter was new to him. I mean, come on, what else could it be?

Tony had arrived a few minutes after Peter did, but seeing the boys get so close and be so friendly pushed him to keep his distance. He looked on from the living room, making sure no one was burning any fingers or throwing flour in their eyes. The sight was nice, seeing his sons bonding, learning about each other, becoming friends. It was the picture of domesticity, and it warmed Tony’s heart. 

Breakfast was served another 20 minutes later, with way too many blueberries in each pancake, courtesy of Mr. Parker. Tony was invited to join them, after the boys realized he had never come down to help them.

“ Boss is in the adjacent living room, would you still like me to notify him for breakfast?” FRIDAY asked when the boys had her call him down for the meal. They replied ‘no’ in unison, and went to fetch their mentor.

All three of them ate in a comfortable silence, it was broken once or twice by Tony’s plans for the day, including, but not limited to, “building shit, bullying the Avengers behind their backs & attempting to avoid starvation and dehydration.”

They finished the food quickly and moved back to the lab. Peter cleared off one of his many workbenches and offered it to Harley, insisting the boy would need a place to work, especially if he was staying for more than a few hours.

Harley gratefully accepted, feeling more at home now that he had a workspace, and a friend. Despite his own place to tinker, he found himself lingering longer than necessary at Peter’s workstation. They were exchanging ideas, sketching a couple models, having FRIDAY pull up schematics on the nearest smartscreen. After a couple hours of back and forth, Harley walking to his workbench and staying there for a mere minute at most before heading back over to peter’s side, they decided to cut the bullshit and stuck both their tables together. 

They bickered as they worked, arguing like an old married couple, teasing each other and setting traps they would inevitably fall for.

“That’s the wrong screwdriver,” Peter informed his counterpart, glancing to the boy putting together the first few pieces of the model he conceptualized the prior night.

“Hm? No, I’m pretty sure I got the right one, darlin’,” Harley replied, adding the pet name with a smirk, causing the recipient to blush, and his own cheeks to turn a slight scarlet.

“I’m confident you have the wrong kind, that’s a candice screwdriver,” Peter answered, suppressing his laughter as best he could.

“Candice? You really think I haven’t heard that one before?” asked Harley, one eyebrow quirking upwards in disbelief. 

“Aw man, I thought you guys might have different jokes down in Tennessee,” offered the New Yorker, disappointed his joke didn’t even get a chance to go through.

“You know, being from the South doesn’t mean I’m not American, just like you, Parker.”

“Yeah, but things can be so different. Like for one, the accent.”

“My accent and the way I talk has nothin’ to do with any of this, boy,” insisted Harley, feigning offense at the insinuation.

“The way you talk about shucking corn? I’m half-expecting you to mention the rodeo you went to every weekend,” Peter joked, tapping into his very stereotypical knowledge of the south.

“Rodeos are Texan! If you’re going to use my southerness as a way to attack me, at least get your shit right!” Harley countered, pointing a finger towards Peter to prove his point.

“God, is this what kids normally do? Yell at each other about rodeos and their origins?”

Both boys turned away from each other and to the third voice joining them. Of course Tony would pick this moment to walk back in from his afternoon nap. He mostly took naps nowadays, finding it hard to sleep through a whole night, he opted for short moments of rest, few and far between.

“I actually came down here because there’s an Avengers meeting in a few, so Pete, if you’d clean up here and head to the conference room,” Stark announced.

“Oh, sure thing, Mr. Stark, this shouldn’t take long,” the boy answered, already filing away stacks of designs, shoving bits and pieces of metal back into their boxes, and putting away screwdriver after screwdriver, phillips, flathead, and candice alike. 

Harley was intrigued by the fact that Peter was being asked to sit in on an Avengers meeting. That was pretty fucking cool. Not that he was jealous, he knew there were responsibilities here, lives to save, duties to uphold, all that good stuff. 

He tried not to dwell on it too long while they were gone. Peter had been here for a long time, according to the way he felt so comfortable, and how he knew where the conference rooms were, as well as the kitchen. It was just a conglomeration of little things that made Peter seem like more than an employee. His obvious bond with the Tony Stark, that wouldn’t just happen to any other intern. Something had to be special about Peter Parker.

He wouldn’t pry, though. It wasn’t his business, it was Avengers business, and so it shall stay. 

Chapter Text

Harley found himself growing bored. Yes, he was in a state-of-the-art lab, he had access to as many riches as he would like, and all he had to do was ask FRIDAY for some company. He had tired himself out of planning new devices, welding pieces of scrap metal together, and even got bored of watching Netflix on the lab’s high and mighty TV.

He was pacing around the floor aimlessly when his stomach called out to him in hunger. It had been a little over an hour since Peter and Tony had left him alone, meaning it was probably drawing around 6 o’clock. He started walking towards the elevator, remembering the kitchen from this morning was only a couple floors down. Harley paused right before entering the sleek grey box, hesitating.

“Hey FRIDAY, is Peter still in the meeting?” He asked to the empty floor.

“ Yes, Mr. Keener. Would you like me to alert you when he is available?” Countered the AI, offering her help, as always.

“No.. No, it’s fine,” he replied as he entered the elevator. “Take me to the common floor, please.”

A few seconds later he was exiting his ride and heading towards the kitchen he’d made a mess of that same morning. He passed by the crowded living room, setting his eyes on the fri- Wait. Crowded living room?

He froze midway between the fridge and the large leather couch that currently featured 2 Avengers. Harley slowly turned around, trying to make sense of his situation. His gaze was met by Colonel James Rhodes and Agent Natasha Romanoff. His eyes widened even more as they flitted over to the loveseat and he saw The Vision. The adults (and synthezoid) exchanged glances, Natasha speaking up first.

“You must be Tony’s new puppy,” she said while crossing her arms over her chest. “Natasha Romanoff, but everyone calls me Nat.”

Harley tilted his head slightly before returning to its original position, as if contemplating her answer. “Sorry, didn’t see y’all earlier. I would’ve said hi, thought y’all we’re in an Avengers meeting. I’m Harley.”

“Well, kid, come sit down, give us the rundown,” Rhodes welcomed, cocking his head towards the empty armchair opposite the loveseat. 

Harley took the offered seat, assessing his company thoroughly. He took in the scene, turning his head right and left, staring back at the people who were just as curious about him as he was about them.

“You are not from New York,” Vision announced, obviously having used his database to come to this conclusion.

Harley furrowed his brows, slightly uneasy. “No.. I’m from Tennessee. Y’all could’ve guessed from the accent, though. Parker seemed to know the second I spoke.”

“You’ve met Peter?” Natasha asked, intrigued, yet amused. Harley couldn’t have told she was amused by her mouth, though her eyes had a glimmer they lacked the second prior.

“Yeah, caught him in the lab this morning when I was looking for Tony,” he explained, knowing just saying ‘yes’ wouldn’t be enough for a russian spy. “He’s nice, smart too.”

“He’s a good kid, definitely,” Rhodey agreed. “I’m Rhodey, Tony’s-”

“Tony’s best friend, yeah. He’s only mentioned you a couple hundred times over the years. Nice to meet you,” finished Harley, finally making his acquaintance.

“He talks about me? Didn’t think the man had it in him to shut up about himself, let alone talk about anyone else,” scoffed Rhodey, clearly caught off guard by his friend’s behavior.

“He always tells stories from college, most of which he’s not the star. Like the one time you guys went sledding on cafeteria trays and you ended up crashing into-”

“Okay! Okay, that’s enough, yeah, Tony talks about me, thanks kid,” Rhodey hastily interrupted, trying to keep his reputation. His rushed tone would’ve led Harley to believe he was mad, but the smile the man wore assured him of the contrary.

They spent the next few minutes getting to know each other better, mostly the Avengers asking Harley questions than the other way around, but he did get a few inquiries in. The teen seemed to have a charm about him, something that got them to enjoy his company. It was similar to Peter’s, in a way. They both were kind, yet funny in a humor that everyone found endearing. Peter was much more polite than Harley, and a hell of a lot more awkward, but they both created a calm and positive bubble wherever they went. 

“Well, Harley, what brought you to New York?” Natasha asked in a softer voice than she would normally use. 

“Oh. I just thought I’d pay Tony a visit, he deserves to see me after 6 years, doesn’t he? My presence is a gift, after all. Figured he’d finally earned it,” Harley offered, the tiniest hint of panic in his voice going unnoticed. Mostly.

They continued chatting, late afternoon turning to early evening. Vision even cooked dinner for the other three, seeing as he doesn’t eat. The recipe was apparently from Wanda, she’d been teaching him to cook for a couple months now. It was a delicious pasta dish, rich with sauce, vegetables, and an unhealthy amount of bacon to tie it all together. Laughter filled the air as jokes were tossed around during the meal, Vision sitting along with them, as well.

A few bites of pasta still littered the plate in front of Harley when he heard his name called.

“Harley! There you are, I’ve been looking for you, man. The lab was empty when I finished, I went to your room but obviously you weren’t there because you’re here! Oh, hey guys,” Peter spat out, not stopping for a single breath during the speech. He greeted the adults with the wave of a hand and a sincere smile. The Avengers returned the expression, adding a few ‘hello’s and ‘hey’s.

“You kids hitting it off?” Asked the Colonel, smirking mischievously as he did so. He received an elbow to the ribs for his question from the red-head to his right, leading both teens to eye them in confusion, then turn to each other equally as disturbed.

They made their exit rather quickly, Harley leaving his company much more fondly than he met them. The boys headed to Peter’s room, situated in one of the living quarters’ floors. Peter’s quarters were between those of Wanda Maximoff and James Barnes. He had gotten to know his neighbors quite well over the few weekends he spent overnight at the Tower. Wanda was around his age, so they bonded over a few things in common. She had even tried to teach him Sokovian, but that didn’t go so well.

“You aren’t even trying!” Wanda reprimanded, laughing at Peter as he dangled upside down from the ceiling, not even close to paying attention.

“Oh, but I am trying. I’m trying to see if popcorn ceiling tastes like popcorn.” Yeah, he was definitely a genius for that one.

“How would that even make any sense?” She scoffed, her student engrossed in a question entirely off-topic. 

“They don’t name this stuff just for the fun of it, there has to be a logical - scientific reason why it’s called popcorn ceiling.” Maybe he actually had put some thought before sticking to a roof and preparing to lick it.

“Yeah, idiot, it’s because it looks like popcorn.” Wanda reasoned, though she knew she had already lost that battle. 

As for Sergeant Barnes, they got off on a rocky start. Peter seemed to be a little too energetic for the man who spends most of his time staring into oblivion, or other people’s souls. 

“Steve, who’s the kid?” Bucky asked, looking through FRIDAY’s security footage. It was customary for a few Avengers to look over the feed every week or so to make sure nothing fishy was going down right under their noses. Ladies and gentlemen, thank Tony Stark and his paranoia for that one.

“Oh, that’s Peter, Parker. He’s Tony’s intern, and also Spider-Man.” Steve supplied, having seen the boy a handful of times since the battle in Germany.

“Spider-Man? This 12 year old child, is Spider-Man?” Bucky was as incredulous as they come, definitely. This kid couldn’t be Spider-Man, there was no way.

“You can meet him, if you’d like. He usually comes every other weekend, maybe he can convince you in person.” 

And that’s how Peter got a date with the Winter Soldier. They spent most of their time in silence, though Peter was radiating energy and joy, whereas Bucky was solemn and reserved. It took some coaxing from the teen, but Bucky eventually let his guard down just a little and allowed himself to indulge in the human puppy that is Peter Parker.

They never really got close, but they both felt this sense of familiarity and calm that came with the other’s presence. Bucky knew he’d do anything to protect Peter from danger, and Peter knew he’d do his darndest to make Bucky feel welcome and at home in this new millennium, with this new family. 

Harley had found it weird that Peter’s room would be next to those of the Avengers. That would make him incredibly out of place, wouldn’t it? Shouldn’t his room be in the penthouse, if he was Tony’s intern? Well, if he was just Tony’s intern he wouldn’t have a room at all. 

Also, why was he so buddy-buddy with the other Avengers? They were Avengers for crying out loud! Yeah, he spent time with Tony, but that’s not exactly an excuse for being besties with super spies and assassins. He’d have to ask later on.

Peter and Harley ended up on the floor of the bedroom, facing the TV Tony insisted be put there. They were debating which gaming console (also courtesy of Mr. Stark) to play. Peter suggested the Xbox One, but Harley’s lack of input was making him hesitant. 

“I’ve never had much stuff to game with, so I wouldn’t really know.” Harley admitted shyly, almost embarrassed. 

That didn’t stop Peter, if anything it fueled him to be even more enthusiastic, insisting they play every game of every console he could think of off the top of his head. They started with the Xbox One, going from classics like Minecraft and Halo, to some more co-op based games such as Overcooked! or TowerFall. They did a lot of yelling, quite a bit of explaining and shared some laughs louder than would be tolerable at such a late hour. They spent hour after hour switching between games, consoles, characters, modes, etc. It was all so fun, so fast-paced, Harley barely had time to register their lack of sleep. 

Harley ended up falling asleep, his head resting on Peter’s shoulder. They’d been playing BroForce, Harley was waiting for Peter to free a new character for him to be revived, but he’d fallen asleep long before that got a chance to happen. Peter looked over Harley to make sure the boy truly was asleep before whispering, asking FRIDAY what time it was. 

“ It is currently 3:47am, your alarm is set for 6:30am.” 

Oh shit. That’s right, he had school.

He gently peeled Harley off of him, laying the sleeping boy more comfortably on the floor. He added a couple blankets and pillows to make him comfortable, but didn’t trust himself enough not to wake him if he tried moving him to the bed. 

He turned off the TV and the game, got into the bed and drifted off thinking about the hours that had literally flown by when he was with Harley. With Harley. Harley.

Tony left the meeting room exhausted. Not only had he had to try and convince the ‘rogue’ Avengers to sign the revised Accords, but he also hadn’t had very much coffee at all. 

He caught Peter’s attention before the kid could get away.

“Hey, Pete. Mind keeping Harley company for the evening? He’s probably still tinkering in the lab, or something. Make sure to grab something to eat, too. I’ll see you boys tomorrow, alright?” Tony had been trying to give Peter a little more autonomy after Pepper told him he’d been coddling the boy. So, he tried leaving Peter alone for a couple hours at a time, but it’d always felt a little unsettling thinking about all the trouble he could be getting himself into. Though this time he felt a little more at peace; it was a little easier to let go. Probably because he knew the kid wouldn’t be alone, they’d be two. They’d be responsible.

After a confirming response from the teen, he went up to the penthouse. He fixed himself dinner, Pepper being gone for the night at a charity event. Tony settled in the living room, his laptop by his side, ready to watch cable TV and pretend to be interested in the Real Housewives of Satan’s Ass™.

He was a few hours into his relaxation time when he heard the unmistakable ding of an elevator arriving. He tried (and failed) to suppress a groan and turned his head into a throw pillow, attempting to convey that he was not willing to have a conversation at the moment.

An unimpressed red-head snatched the pillow away from him, forcing him to meet her gaze.

Natasha Romanoff didn’t come to negotiate unless it was important, so Tony forced himself upright and tried his very best to focus on what she was saying.

“Your kid. What’s he doing here?” She asked cryptically, causing Tony to take a few moments to process before answering.

“Peter stays here every other weekend..? You guys have known this for a while, this isn’t new, Nat.” It was weird that she was questioning Peter’s presence so late in the game. She’d asked about him the first time they met, but since then she’d been really welcoming, even for her.

“Not Peter,” she replied, annoyed. “Harley.”

Tony got even more confused, when had Natasha met Harley? Did she go to his lab looking for him and came across the boys? His furrowed brows and drifting eyes were enough for Natasha to understand that he was more than thrown off by the question.

“He came to the common floor for dinner, Rhodes, Vision and I were already in there. We didn’t scare him, if that’s what you’re worried about. He said he came here because he hadn’t seen you in a long time. He hesitated and was nervous when he said so, though.” She supplied him with an answer and a question of her own, once again.

“Yeah, he was kicked out by his family back in Tennessee, so he came here. I always told him I’d be here in case he needed anything, especially after Peter. I feel responsible for both of them, so I’m always there for them.” As he responded, Tony realized just how little he actually knew about Harley’s situation, how he got here and why. Sure, he’d been kicked out, but that isn’t exactly a tell-all, now is it?

Natasha thought over his answer, a crinkled brow betraying her normally unreadable expression. “You need to talk to him, ask him why he’s here, why he was kicked out. He could be in serious trouble and we wouldn’t know.” Her tone left no room for discussion and Tony knew she’d be harassing him until she got her answer.

“Right. I’ll ask him tomorrow, we’re all pretty beat for today. Thanks, Nat.” 

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Stark.”

And with that, she was off, leaving Tony to ponder every possible situation that might have brought Harley to New York. What could’ve led his parents to kick him out.

Peter woke up a few seconds before FRIDAY could turn on his alarm, allowing him the time to ask her to stay quiet and let Harley sleep a little longer.

He grabbed some clean clothes and moved to the en-suite to get changed, sparing a passing glance at his visitor as he moved around the boy. He came out 10 minutes later, refreshed and ready to start his day, though he knew he’d be exhausted the whole time. It was worth it, though. The night he’d spent with Harley had been the most fun he’d had in a very long time, so he’d be exhausted and he wouldn’t even complain.

He packed his bag in the darkness of early morning, rummaging around his desk for an assignment he knew he’d left there.

Apparently the noise he made while moving around was enough to wake up sleeping beauty. 

Harley rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting up at the figure he assumed to be Peter.

“Pete? What’re you doing up, darlin’?” He asked, the pet name slipping out before he could stop himself. He probably wouldn’t have stopped himself, though, even if he could.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” Peter tried to assure him, knowing it wasn’t exactly convincing since he was going back and forth across the room.

“Where are you going?” Harley insisted, getting up from his makeshift bed on the bedroom floor.

“School, but you can stay here. I’ll tell Tony and you can sleep in as long as you like.” The counter-offer was tempting, but Harley knew he couldn’t accept. It would be cruel for him to let Peter go off to school so early and he sleep in late, knowing they were both up until the same small hours of the morning last night. 

“Hey, what if I went to school with you.” Harley offered. He wouldn’t mind spending more time with Peter, and he didn’t know how long he’d be in New York, so he had no way of knowing if he’d still be eligible to graduate if he didn’t return to school.

“Really?!” Peter asked excitedly, the thought of his assignment placed neatly in the back of his mind. “That’d be so cool! We have to go ask Mr. Stark!”

The teen rushed around his room much faster than before, grabbing his backpack and stuffing it with more documents than seemed necessary.

Harley stood by the doorway, waiting for Peter to finish his ruckus before they left for the penthouse to have breakfast with Tony like Peter usually did on Monday mornings. 

They arrived in the penthouse kitchen and were greeted by Tony, sitting on a stool at the island. Pepper had her back to the boys, cooking something delicious-smelling on the stovetop. 

“Morning, boys. Hope you like sausage, Harley.”

“Yeah, sure. Got any grits going?” The teenager responded, chuckling lightly at the thought of such a stereotypical Southern breakfast. 

“Mr. Stark? We were wondering if maybe Harley could come to school with me.” Peter cut in, buzzing with anticipation.

“School? Already? You’ve barely been here for a day, Harley. Are you sure you want to jump into school so soon? No one would blame you if you wanted more time to adjust.” Tony tried to reason, speaking kindly, truly having the boy’s best interest in mind.

“Yeah, I’m sure. We don’t know how long I’ll be here, and I’d rather not miss more classes than necessary. I need that GPA if I’m going to MIT.” Harley countered, ready to jump into this new phase of his life head-on.

“MIT, huh. That’s in two years, kid. But, sure, let me see what I can do and try to coax some administrator to get you transferred.” He caved, the combined powers of his two favorite teenagers becoming too intense for him to resist.

Pepper, who’d be listening from the other side of the kitchen island, turned around with a warm smile on her face.

“I can pull some strings, you should be there by Wednesday, tops. I can even make sure you’re in each of Peter’s classes, make the transition a little easier.” Oh, to know Pepper Potts is to love Pepper Potts. Harley was grateful for the offer and accepted heartily.

This was shaping up to be a pretty good day. For all parties involved.

Spending more time with Peter? A definite plus.

Going to Midtown Tech, a literal nerd school? Couldn’t have asked for better.

Living with Tony Stark, billionaire & mentor? This was great.

A crappy situation with an even worse ending might’ve just changed Harley’s life for the very best.

Chapter Text

Peter took his leave for school after they’d all finished eating their breakfast. Harley was invited into the lab to spend the day with Tony. They moved down there and Tony was pleasantly surprised when he noted it was not on fire and didn’t seem to have ever been, despite the many hours both boys were left alone with full access.

“So, what did you work on yesterday?” Tony asked, striking up a conversation with about as much grace as a chicken in high heels.

“Oh, I worked on the bot I drew up Saturday,” he said with a proud smile, fishing it out of a pile of metal chunks on his and Peter’s double workstation. “So, I started with the engine, bumped it up a couple notches from the basic thing you keep on hand - gross, by the way, how simple it is.” Harley detailed the inner workings of his robot, adding in a promise here and there for the finished product and how different it might be from what he was currently showing his mentor.

Tony was impressed with how quickly the boy had created such an intricate model, especially with the distractions Peter was bringing along. He did love seeing his kid be so passionate, though. His explanations were filled with jokes, smiles and eyes glimmering with pride. Tony hoped the kid would never lose his love for his work.

After a few more minutes of explaining, Tony managed to pull away from Harley’s speeches and get the teen actually working instead of just talking about it. He himself went on to tweak Mark 47, stabilizing the jets or adding a couple more guns and rocket launchers.

The start of the day was pretty great, light conversations and a lot of very loud music. Then Tony had to honor his promise to Natasha, and that’s when it all went very south very quick.

As they were each tinkering with their respective projects, Tony asked the questions.

“Hey, Harley? I know you came to New York because you were kicked out, but why exactly were you kicked out?” So, that was kind of smooth.

“Pardon?” Maybe it wasn’t so smooth.

“I’m just wondering why you’re here, kid. I love having you around, really, it was just very out of the blue.”

“I was kicked out. That’s why I’m here, Tony.” His defenses were up so high that if a plane was passing through it would crash right into them.

“I know that, I’m asking why ,” Tony clarified as he set his wrench down haphazardly on the nearest workbench, turning his body towards Harley to prove the kid had his full attention. “Did you get into trouble?”

“ No. ” Harley had to be very firm, because if he was hesitant in the slightest Tony would probably also kick him out.

“Okay, then what happened with your parents?”

“My step-dad is not my parent. Nothing happened, they just got sick of me.” Harley continued to work on his bot, more aggressively as the argument got more heated.

“Sick of you? Yeah, I’m not buying it. Spill it, kid. What the hell happened back in Tennessee last week?” Tony asked as he crossed his arms. He was done playing around, he wanted answers. 

“Why does this concern you in any way? I’m not in trouble, no one’s coming to arrest me-”

“Because they shouldn’t? Or because they haven’t found the body yet?”

“Wow. Are you really accusing me of doing something illegal? Of trying to run away from my problems by coming to New York?”

Tony stayed silent after that. Perhaps that wasn’t the best move, because it only seemed to fuel Harley even more. He finally stopped his tinkering and scoffed as he replied.

“My God! You are! You think I did something, and that I’m in the wrong! Predictable. Of course Tony fucking Stark would side with strangers instead of the kid he’s seen grown up and knows better than anyone else.” Harley waved his arms around dramatically, as if it would help prove his point.

“Hey! I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just saying, this is suspicious, and you’re smart enough to see that.”

“But I’m not smart enough to not commit a felony? Or did you assume it was a capital offense?”

“Kid, don’t twist my words around. I never said that.” Tony was getting frustrated, his patience wearing thin. “I trust you, but-”

“But you don’t want me around.” Harley finished, clearly as frustrated as his mentor.

“Of course I want you around! You’re an amazing kid, you’re smart, funny-”

“Yeah, listing compliments is sure to help you get your way this time, Stark.”

Tony only gaped back at the teen, unsure of how to proceed. He’d never fought like this with Peter, except once after the Ferry incident, and that was clearly not the right move on his part. The only people he’d get into regular fights with were Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. They were adults, they could take it if he hit too low, but this was a kid. A fragile, recently-displaced kid that just needed to answer a damn question .

“Why were you kicked out, Harley? It’s not that loaded of a question, I’m just trying to figure this out. If we can send you back in a couple-”

“I am not going back. And I already told you, they got sick of me! They don’t want me around, if they ever wanted me back, they wouldn’t have thrown me out, would they?”

The comment came out much louder than any of the previous ones. Harley left his words hanging, leaving the lab in a near-blind rage. He bolted for the elevator, heading straight to the guest room in the penthouse. He had no plans to leave the room for the foreseeable future, especially not if there was any chance of him being sent back to Tennessee.

Well, that could have definitely gone better. ‘Can’t wait to tell Natasha about how I destroyed my relationship with another teenager in 20 seconds flat!’ Tony’s mind was very comforting in moments like this. 

Tony didn’t feel like facing the wrath of Ms. Romanoff just yet, so he put that on the back-burner and grabbed the elevator to the garage. He spent a lot of time in the garage fixing up old cars when he was angry, mainly because it was far, isolated and required a lot more physical effort than making Iron Man suits. 

He didn’t care about getting his clothes dirty today. He would stain them and it would be without a care in the world. All his worries were with Harley. Somehow, eventually, he’ll need to get the kid to talk, but that seemed fruitless to try today. 

Lunch was never eaten, by Tony nor Harley. They both remained too engrossed in their own happenings to realize it had passed noon. Pepper was used to eating lunch alone in the conference rooms, so she was none-the-wiser about the relationship that was crumbling in her fiancé’s life.

A couple hours later, Peter came home from school. In true Peter fashion, he was peppy and bubbly and just so Peter . The boy practically skipped from the lobby to the lab, searching for his new friend. When he didn’t find Harley in the lab, he tried the common floor, having learned from last night’s dinner situation. He came up empty handed once more, so he asked the few Avengers who were walking the corridors on that same floor.

“Hey guys, have you seen Harley?”

“Sorry, Pete, not since last night.” Rhodey answered, looking sincerely disappointed, as if he’d been wanting to see Harley.

“Um, who’s Harley?” Right! Bruce hadn’t met Harley yet. That was a stupid question of him to ask to someone who didn’t even know the boy.

“Tony’s old friend, he’s around my age, a little taller, blond hair, green eyes.” Bruce looked just as confused as before, so obviously nothing was ringing any bells. “Southern accent?” A shake of the head was enough to confirm that the teen hadn’t been there.

“Thanks anyways, Mr. Rhodey, Dr. Banner. See you guys later!” Peter called over his shoulder, even more dedicated to find the missing boy. He went up to the penthouse, exhausting the last possibility for Harley’s whereabouts.

Peter knocked on Harley’s bedroom door, calling the boy’s name. There was no answer, so Peter announced he was coming in and opened the door.

He found Harley asleep in bed, in the middle of the afternoon. Taking a nap. He was relieved that his friend was safe, but this seemed like strange behavior. He felt it best to ask Tony about it, maybe it was a normal teenager thing. Peter certainly wasn’t one of those.

Remembering Tony wasn’t in the lab, he thought it best to ask FRIDAY where he might be.

“ Boss is currently working in the garage.” The voice supplied, opening the elevator, undoubtedly preparing to bring the teen down to the aforementioned floor. 

As the cabin was being lowered to the garage, Peter could already hear the music absolutely blaring . Once the doors opened, the sound became unbearable. He assumed it would be intense for someone without super-hearing, but for him it was just awful.

“FRIDAY, turn it down !” He cried as he physically covered his ears and slammed his eyes close, desperate to dampen the noise.

The volume lowered until it was no longer painful, though it was still too loud for Peter’s liking. He saw Tony hunched over the open hood of a 1968 cyan Corvette, a dirty rag over his right shoulder, and a can of oil on a stool nearby.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. Are you okay?” Normally, the music was loud, but not loud loud. This was something else.

“Always. What do you need?” The man replied coldly.

“N-nothing, I just, I went to see Harley and he was asleep, so I wondered if that was normal, or if it means he’s sick or something.” Peter was concerned, not only for Harley, but because this behavior from Tony was completely unprecedented and he didn’t like it.

“Harley’s fine, trust me. Was that all?” Yeah, Tony was being extremely standoffish. He hadn’t asked about Peter’s day at school, or offered to head to the lab, or even asked why Peter was here on a school day. 

“I, um, I asked May to stay here this week, to try and help Harley get settled. I think he needs a friend right now, so I’ll be sleeping over for a while.”

“Great, see you around.”

Yeah, no. This wasn’t cutting it. Peter didn’t deserve to be treated like this. Tony hadn’t even looked up from the hood of the car!

“What happened while I was at school?” Peter tried, giving the billionaire ample opportunity to supply him with an answer, should he want to.

“Nothing. Just a long day, go find the other kid, keep busy.” Tony had dismissed Peter like it was second nature, not even sparing a passing glance at the boy, or changing his tone of voice from indifferent to anything else .

“No, tell me what happened. You’re not acting like.. like you . I can help, just explain the situation.” Peter was trying to reason, to make Tony see that he can be of use.

“I told you, nothing happened, Peter.” For the first time since Peter’s arrival, Tony made eye contact, sending a murderous gaze towards the boy. “Drop it.”

“Not until you explain, I deserve an explanation. Is this why Harley’s napping in the middle of the afternoon? Did something happen between you two?” He started connecting the few dots he had, understanding that this wasn’t a coincidence.

“Kid. Walk away. I’m not doing this with you.” Tony was trying to remain calm, his quota for anger already full for the day.

“No! Stop treating me like I’m a kid and like I can’t help you. I just want to know what happened! I’m not asking you to give me your company, I just want-”

“I wanted to know why he came here.” Tony snapped, moving away from the car. He closed the hood a little too forcefully as he continued. “Harley shows up here with no warning, no explanation . Seems a little weird to me. I just asked him about it.” He shrugged his shoulders to convey how mundane the conversation should’ve been.

Peter narrowed his eyes, processing the words Tony was throwing at him. There was no reason why a simple question should’ve caused this kind of uproar. “What exactly did you say to him?”

“I just wanted information about why he left his family behind to come here. His mom, his sister.”

“Okay, and what did he say?” Peter was still confused as to how this got blown out of proportion.

“He was kicked out. I feel for the kid, okay? It sucks and it never should’ve happened, but we don’t know why . What if he was running from the cops? Maybe he’s just here looking for cash and he needed an excuse he knew I wouldn’t question.”

“ What? Are you insane? You’ve known Harley since he was 10! If he wanted money, he would’ve asked for it. And you think he committed a crime? Really?” Peter hadn’t known Harley for a long time, barely over 24 hours, but the boy seemed nice. He was sarcastic, smart, and Peter could tell he was kind-hearted.

“We can’t rule out any possibilities until he explains himself. I’m not the one you should be harassing, here.” He pointed a finger at his chest as he delivered the last line, practically daring Peter to respond.

Peter didn’t get the hint, he doubled down on his stance and shouted: “Do you even know who you’re talking about?”

Tony’s head snapped towards Peter at that, full-blown anger, untamed and wild, making his features crisp and hard. “I sure as hell know more than you, has he told you about his dad?” He was provoking Peter, knowing the answer would be no. 

Peter scoffed, completely over this conversation. He spread his arms wide as he replied. “The invincible Iron Man, ladies and gentlemen, douchebag since 2008.” He walked towards the elevator, desperately needing to be anywhere but here.

Tony followed Peter with his gaze, mouth hanging slightly open at the act of aggression he’d never witnessed before from his kid.

Today made Tony entirely question why he kept teenagers around.

Peter went to his room, his second sanctuary in the Tower, the lab being the first. He slammed his door shut. The only reason the door didn’t fall off its hinges is because of the reinforced steel used to make them; this was an Avenger’s facility, after all. He was baffled by Tony’s complete lack of respect for Harley’s privacy. Harley isn’t the type to get in trouble, he didn’t seem like it, at least. 

Peter needed to do something, anything, to get his mind off the argument he just had with the one person he thought would always be on his side. Sure, May was often on his side, but she had different opinions than his, and she was just a civilian, a normal person. Tony, Avenger that he was, didn’t share the luxury of being normal, thus he should be the one to share Peter’s concerns and serenities.

He took to the wall, then the ceiling, and started pacing. Upside down. Why not? It felt better than just pacing the floor, and he had a larger canvas to work with, circling the walls, ceiling and floor, all 6 surfaces of the room. 

His thoughts were racing, most of them were pent up aggression towards Tony. Others were concerned for Harley, and how the other boy must be feeling at the moment. He found comfort in the fact he was asleep, not filled with a gnawing feeling in his gut at the horrible things Mr. Stark must’ve said in their own fight.

One sentence that Tony had said really struck a chord with Peter. It kept replaying in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Has he told you about his dad?

Harley was allowed to have his secrets. They’d just met the previous day! No one could blame him for not exposing his trauma in the first 20 minutes. Still, it freaked Peter out a little. The comment seemed harsh, provocative. Tony knew it would affect him, but he still stood his ground. He owed Harley the benefit of the doubt, he could ask him later. 

The next morning, Peter woke up and got ready for school. A fresh outfit, a little gel in his hair and an overflowing backpack on his shoulders, and he was ready. He wanted to talk to Harley before leaving, though. 

The best (and only) excuse he could come up with was to make breakfast for everyone on the common floor. He just hoped Tony would stay in the penthouse and that Harley would be coming down before he had to leave.

Since they had made pancakes last time, a suggestion of Peter’s, it only seemed fair to make something Harley might request. A memory sparked in his mind, something he had said yesterday morning.

Got any grits going?

Perfect! A southern-style breakfast for his southern boyf- best friend . It took a little googling and a lot of help from FRIDAY, but Peter managed to put together a menu and get cooking.

Since he was on the common floor, the Avengers slowly rolled in for their first meal of the day, pleasantly surprised to find Peter making it.

Sam, Steve and Bucky walked in, coming back from their daily morning run.

“Damn! Something smells good in here.” Of course, Sam was always the most enthusiastic when it came to food.

“Morning, Peter. You making this big breakfast just for yourself, or do we get to have some too?” Classic Steve, always asking before assuming anything was for the taking.

“There’ll be plenty for everyone, I just have to get all this done in the next…” Peter checked his wrist as if looking for a watch he never wore.

“ You have 13 minutes before you’re required to leave for school.” FRIDAY supplied. It was strangely comforting to have an AI constantly watching over you, giving you information without being asked, and taking you wherever you need to go.

“Right, thanks Fri.”

“Thanks for this, kid.” Bucky said as he walked past Peter, ruffling the boy’s hair as he did so.

With 8 minutes to spare, Peter had assembled a lineup of 10 plates with Avenger-sized portions of grits, biscuits and scrambled eggs.

Natasha and Wanda had joined the others in their wait for breakfast, watching in fascination as Peter moved as quickly as he could to get it all done before his time ran out.

Peter was constantly glancing towards the elevator, apparently not as discreetly as he thought he was being.

“Who are you waiting for, Peter?” The question came from Natasha, unsurprisingly. She caught every single move he made. He once made a bet with Ned that she could tell people’s pulses just by staring at them long enough. They’re still waiting for confirmation before announcing a winner of that bet.

“Oh, um, Harley. I didn’t get to talk to him after school yesterday, so I’m just- yeah.”

As if on cue, the boy in question walked slowly out of the elevator, weary of the large group of strangers in the kitchen.

“Morning, y’all.” Harley said through a yawn.

“Hey! Is that a southern brother I hear? Get your ass over here!”

Right, Sam was from Louisiana. If the next six minutes weren’t going to give Peter any answers, at least they’d be entertaining.

Chapter Text

“Hey! Hey, that’s cheating, Wanda!” Yelled Sam from the floor.

“It’s not cheating, it’s called ‘using my resources,’ Sam.” Wanda retorted, having thrown him there a minute before.

Peter rolled his eyes at the antics, tired of their usual shenanigans, but amused by them nonetheless.

“There’s plenty for everyone,” he called, staring Wanda down until the red glow from her hands receded.

Food wasn’t usually homemade for everyone, it was most often of the ‘fend for yourself’ variety. So, having a home-cooked breakfast definitely warranted a fight for each serving. Peter had planned ahead, though, making 10 plates for the 8 different people who ate on the common floor every morning, having an extra plate for himself, and one for Harley.

The boy in question was quite perturbed when Wanda blasted Sam with the flick of a wrist, especially since he hadn’t met either of them yet. Harley had just reached the kitchen island when the disturbance had occurred. Obviously, he had heard of the Scarlet Witch before, but that was nothing compared to seeing her in action, in such a mundane setting.

Wide-eyed, he turned to the nearest person, who was laughing at (with?) Sam. The man was smiling widely, stricken with laughter at the sight of his friend’s humiliation. “Come on, Sam! Get up, or Wanda and I will be splitting your serving,” he teased, reaching out a hand for the Falcon to get to his feet.

“Shut up,” Sam said through a laugh of his own, slipping a hand around the man’s waist. They shared a quick kiss and Harley couldn’t help but stare at the display of domesticity. They were so comfortable being… together in front of everyone. No one was saying anything, no one was telling them off, no one was offended in the slightest. They were just together, and everyone was just fine with it.

He’d soon learn the name of the mystery man is Bucky Barnes, the best friend of Captain America, and the boyfriend of the Falcon.

He and Sam got along very well in the 2 minutes they were in contact. They exchanged far too many griefs over stereotypes about the South. They joked around, Sam being completely oblivious to the debacle that had taken place mere hours ago. Harley was becoming more comfortable around the Avengers newer to him.

Bucky was always nearby when Sam and Harley were talking, so they got to know each other well enough, as well. They didn’t share as many things in common, but they both had pasts that remained untapped.

Mr. America was a different experience. He was very kind, and large. Harley marvelled at the sheer size of Steve for longer than was socially acceptable, but the man was easily over 6 feet, muscles the size of cadillacs on his arms and legs, and Harley could practically see the rock-hard, ultra-defined abs underneath his shirt. They talked politely for a few seconds, but no longer than necessary for an introduction.

As for Wanda, she took an instant liking to the boy. She was very close with Peter, due to their similar age-range, and the fact he had helped her catch up on American culture. Harley was similar to Peter, in the sense that they were both sweet and caring, though sarcastic and hilarious when enabled. Wanda appreciated having a new friend around, turning her and Peter’s dynamic duo into a triumphant trio.

After a couple moments to make the Avengers’ acquaintances, Harley was being pulled from the group and into the connecting living room.

“I only have, like, 4 minutes left before I have to go to school, but I wanted to talk about yesterday.” Peter certainly wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. Well, not when the bush was a ticking time bomb that had 3:54 seconds left, and counting.

Harley was caught off guard by Peter’s question. Since he hadn’t been there during the day, and Harley had slept for a little over 14 hours, Harley hadn’t really thought about explaining the situation to the other boy. They were becoming closer by the second, so it’d be logical for him to talk about it, but the wound seemed too fresh to reopen just yet.

He settled for a quick and (mostly) honest reply. “I don’t really want to talk about yesterday, I’m fine.”

“I talked to Tony,” Peter responded, clearly not buying the whole ‘I’m fine’ part. “I got his side of things, I want to know how you’re feeling.”

Harley swallowed hard, trying not to ruin his day before it even got the chance to start. He wanted to tell Peter how he felt betrayed by Tony, how the man didn’t even really ask how he was feeling , but instead accused him of unprecedented crimes, practically begging for a reason not to keep him around. Logically, he knew he couldn’t say that to Peter, at the very least, not now. So, he kept it short and sweet.

“ I’m feeling fine, thanks. You better get going, 2 minutes on the clock.” The boy signaled to the elevator with his eyes, conveying his need for the conversation to be over. 

Peter sent a glance towards the elevator, weighing his options. He gave a tight-lipped smile to Harley, letting it soften into a genuine display of joy as he took in all of Harley’s features. The dimple on his right cheek that was a constant ghost of his smile. The sparkle in his eyes, because of the sunlight pouring into the floor-to-ceiling windows, making them look like pools of emerald and jade. The messy curls atop his head that trickled down to his neck, twisting and turning around his ears; a bedhead Peter would do anything to wake up next to.

Oh, God .

Peter liked Harley.

Peter was in love .

Fuck.

Harley could practically see the gears turning in Peter’s head while they stood stock-still in the middle of the living that morning. Peter had decided to drop the questioning, bidding him a good day as he popped into the kitchen to do the same to the Avengers.

His day was spent exploring the Tower. He hadn’t had much time to do so the previous few days, but it seemed imperative that he figure his way around without having to rely on actual Avengers for directions to the nearest bathroom. 

He mapped out the floors in his mind, learning every nook and cranny, every possible hiding spot (Sam had mentioned a game of extreme hide n’ seek, though extreme hadn’t been defined). The dozens of floors dedicated to various labs, the 6 or 7 levels that made up an arboretum much more lush than the regular forests of New York, and who could forget the training rooms full to the brim with machines and weights with obscene numbers only a superhuman could lift. Luckily, several superhumans happened to live right there on the premises.

He didn’t go back to the penthouse, choosing to remain away from Tony for as long as possible before he had to face the music. He spent a few hours with Wanda, after she had offered her company at breakfast. They got pretty close, throwing insults back and forth while chasing each other around the Tower for hours . It’s safe to assume even FRIDAY got sick of watching them after hour 2.

Harley hadn’t missed the very stereotypical breakfast that Peter had made for them, it was a nice touch. It showed just how much thought the boy put into every little thing he does. It was sweet, and now, maybe, Harley had something positive to associate with the South; the kindness of Peter Parker.

A knock at the door pulled Tony from his slumber. He searched around his room, looking for the source of the disturbance, before closing his eyes once more and letting sleep reclaim him.

That was a fruitless attempt, for his door was opened mere seconds later. The footsteps weren’t characterized by the clicking of heels, meaning this wasn’t Pepper. He took a deep breath and forced his eyes open.

Natasha wasn’t trying to be subtle, if she had, Tony wouldn’t have seen her. She had turned on the lights, enjoying the hiss that Tony made when the darkness he found comfort in was no more. She was standing near the doorway, waiting to have a conversation she knew was essential.

“You talked to the kid, right?” She already knew the answer, or she wouldn’t be harassing him on a Tuesday morning.

All she got in response was a grunt of acknowledgement. She raised an eyebrow, observing the man’s body language more closely than a civilian could. Something was wrong, she could tell. Natasha was one for reading signs, and this wasn’t plain fatigue. Tony had something on his mind, something he was trying to escape.

She sighed in defeat, closed the lights again and slipped out the doorway, not before adding one last threat.

“See you at lunch.”

Noon came far too quickly for Tony’s taste. He would’ve rather stayed in his bed for the entirety of the day, ignoring reality, and beating himself up for the fights he picked, in peace. 

He sluggishly walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, dragging his feet and running his hands through his hair. As to be expected, Natasha was sitting on a stool, waiting for her company to arrive to get down to business. 

“Morning, Nat,” said Tony, rubbing his forehead.

“It’s past noon, so it’s afternoon,” she explained, leaning casually with her back to the kitchen island. “But good morning to you too.”

“As for your question, yes, I did talk to Harley.” That was partially true. While, yes, they had talked, it had been more of a passive-aggressive screaming match, than a genuinely civil conversation.

“And?”

“He didn’t budge. We spent a total of 5 minutes yelling at each other, and I didn’t get a single piece of valuable information.”

The look Natasha gave Tony was not one either of them was accustomed to. She had her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes darkened and a slight frown on her face. She obviously hadn’t been expecting this answer.

She was a super spy, she knew how to get people talking and how to manipulate them into giving her what she needed. She trusted Tony to do the same with Harley, but it seemed to be misplaced faith.

She thought about talking to the boy herself, but they didn’t know each other very well. And, she had already asked him. Sure, his answer was moot, but he was being questioned by strangers, who would want to explain themselves to people they didn’t know? Tony would have to be the one to get Harley to give them answers.

“You’re going to have to ask him again. We need to know what happened, Tony.”

“He was pretty adamant that he hadn’t done anything wrong, and I believe him, Nat. He’s a great kid, he wouldn’t be running away. If he was kicked out-”

“It wasn’t without reason. You’re the one saying he’s a great kid. What reason could they have to kick him out?”

Her answer was logical. It was a very fair point, it was smart. Tony didn’t like how much sense it made. The things he said yesterday to Harley weren’t kind, and he jumped to conclusions faster than he should’ve. He cared about Harley, more than he consciously realized. He couldn’t hurt the kid again, not after the fight, not after his family.

“I won’t push the kid, Romanoff,” he said, standing his ground. “He doesn’t want to talk, and he’s given me no reason not to trust him.”

Natasha stared back at Tony, unsure of how to proceed. She trusted him, trusted his judgement and his instincts, but that doesn’t mean she’d discard her own at the drop of a hat. 

“I’m keeping an eye on him. You might trust him, but I won’t be blinded by that.”

Her reasoning wasn’t dumbfounded, Tony knew most of all. One of the only people who was there for him after his parents’ death turned on him and commissioned a terrorist organization to have him killed. So, yeah, he wasn’t a stranger to having people stab him in the back, but despite his paranoia and the truly obscene amount of trauma he’s gone through, he wouldn’t think Harley, of all people, would be the type to hurt anyone.

Natasha had a rough exterior, a past that didn’t leave her unaffected. Once you make it through her shell, though, she’s an incredible person. She’s kind, and caring, and heartfelt, and soft. No one’s allowed to say it out loud, or even imply it, but she is soft. Eventually, she would warm up to Harley. She would no longer see him as a threat.

Until that day arrived, Nat would keep tabs on him from afar. Observe, evaluate, act.

Wednesday morning rolls around, light rain pattering on their skyscraper of a home. Overcast clouded the blue sky that normally brightened the bleak city of New York.

Harley was greeted by a cheery knock at his door, that he immediately recognized as the doings of Mr. Parker. He picked himself up off the bed, informed his friend that he’d only be a minute to get ready, and left his room to start the first day of his (newly relocated) high school career.

“Morning! Pepper’s got breakfast going, we’re leaving in about 30 minutes, so there’s plenty of time to eat.” The smile Peter wore didn’t budge as he spoke, in fact it only seemed to grow.

“Morning, darlin’. Breakfast sounds nice,” Harley said, lending his arm to the other teen. “Shall we?”

Peter linked arms with Harley with an intoxicating giggle, and they made their way to the kitchen. A few steps before Pepper would’ve heard their entrance, Harley dropped his arm from Peter’s, hastily slipping into a stool.

Peter thought the move strange, but didn’t question it further. He took a spot on a stool beside Harley’s, greeting Pepper as he did so.

“It smells great, Ms. Potts!” A second or two after his praise, she turned around with a wide smile, placing an omelette in front of each of the boys. “Thank you.”

“Thanks, Pepper.” Harley said, as well, tossing a smile her way.

“Happy will meet you both in the lobby, he’s driving you back, also.” The information was pretty straightforward. Harley would’ve assumed as much, but clarifying everything was in Pepper’s nature, so he wouldn’t question it. Ever.

They finished their first meal of the day and headed towards the car, after meeting Happy in the lobby of the building. The car ride to school was quite uneventful. Happy isn’t chatty, especially not in the morning. Harley did appreciate the man’s honesty when he said, and quote: “I won’t like you if you talk before 8 am.” Peter seemed to be the only exception to that rule, because the boy wouldn’t stop chatting until they made it to their destination.

They both thanked the driver for their ride, and walked up the few steps to the main entrance of the school. A large red-brick building, at least four stories tall, pillars big enough to support the entire planet of Mars. This made his old Rose Hill High look like a shoebox. It was nothing but a single-story cement building, square and cold, that housed about 300 students.

Peter moved very quickly through the halls, Harley had a hard time keeping up with the corridors that were all seemingly the same, though they apparently led to different classrooms. Their first stop was the office, to retrieve Harley’s schedule (though they knew it’d be the same as Peter’s) and to get his locker number. Principal Morita greeted both boys kindly, offering to show Harley the ropes personally, but Peter said he could take care of it.

“I could do it, Mr. Morita. We’re in the same classes, anyway. There’s no need for us to take up more of your time. Thank you, very much, sir.”

“Yes, thank you, sir.” Harley added, very helpfully.

“Well, then. Have a nice day, boys,” the principal said, bidding them goodbye. “Stay out of trouble.”

They slipped out of the office and towards the lockers. They found two teenagers waiting at Peter’s, looking awfully bored. A boy, impatiently glancing around, holding on far too tightly to the straps of his backpack, and a girl, leaning on the row of lockers, entrenched in her reading material.

“Peter! Finally,” said one of them. 

Harley and Peter closed the distance between both their duos, causing Peter and the boy to start an overly-intricate handshake.

“They always do that, you tune them out after a while.” 

The second teen said, not looking up from the book in her hands.

Harley laughed at the comment, and the way she entirely neglected his presence, while still acknowledging it. It was quite a confusing situation, but it made him laugh nevertheless.

The other boys had finished their handshake, turning their attention over to Harley and the girl.

“Harley, this is Ned and MJ,” Peter introduced, gesturing first to the boy next to him, then to the girl who hadn’t seemed to care in the slightest. “Guys, this is Harley.”

MJ raised her hand from her book in a semi-salutation, whereas Ned jumped from Peter’s side and immediately went to hug Harley. Ned was very touchy-feely, wanting to make people feel appreciated and valued.

Harley froze at the contact, unsure of how to proceed for the first few seconds, before relaxing into the hug. His new acquaintance didn’t waste much time before launching into ramblings of greeting.

“Hey! I’m Ned, but you already know that. Peter said you’d be in some of our classes? That’s so awesome! Can’t wait to have a reason to not be bored in English Lit.”

“Hey,” Harley replied casually, pulling away from the embrace. “I think I’m gonna like it here, y’all seem real nice.”

Ned’s eyes went as wide as saucers, he turned to Peter and stage-whispered to his best friend.

“Dude! You didn’t tell me he has an accent!”

Harley and Peter both chuckled at the intervention, Ned flushing in embarrassment.

MJ took the opportunity to speak, placing a bookmark in between pages of her book and slipping it closed. 

“You losers ready? The bell is ringing in, like, 13 seconds.”

“How would you even know that? You’ve been reading since we got here, you don’t even have a watch.”

“Well, Ned. I, for one, have a sense of time.”

“Yeah, but how could it be possible for you to-”

Their bickering was cut off by the bell ringing. Classic MJ.

“Men,” she sighed as she weaned herself off of the lockers and got lost in the sea of students, all hustling and bustling about the school. 

The boys moved to Harley’s newly assigned locker, dropping off his things quickly before heading towards their class.

They parted, leaving Ned to head to his Spanish class. They crossed the campus, going to an entirely different part of this overly large school.

They got to the science lab and walked into the most unpleasant sight.

The prick of the century. The entitled daddy’s boy.

“What’s up, dickwad? Who’s your boyfriend?”

Eugene Thompson.

Chapter Text

Who’s your boyfriend?

Peter shrugged Flash off, opting to head to his seat instead of engaging with the bully’s antics. Harley, on the other hand, froze like Captain America in 1945.

His eyes went wide at the comment, his body stood still and time seemed to come to a complete stop. He couldn’t exactly process what had been said, or how Flash could’ve known, or how many people had heard, or what would happen to him because now everyone knew , or-

He was pulled from his thoughts as Peter finally looked back to him, taking in the complete terror on his face. Peter went back to the front of the class and tried to understand what had happened that he hadn’t seen or understood.

“Hey, Harley, are you okay?” Peter whispered to him, brows furrowed in concern.

The teen wanted to answer, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from Flash. It was too soon, too soon for everyone to know, too soon to have to go through all of this again.

“Harley. He was just being a dick, he always says stuff like that. Don’t let it get to you.”

He always says stuff like that? He always calls strangers boyfriends? He always causes semi-panic attacks to new kids? Oh, sure, Harley can totally let that go.

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, clenched his fists so hard he drew blood and finally looked away from the bully.

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing past Peter’s shoulder and going to the back of the class where a few desks remained empty.

Peter followed behind, obviously still concerned about the debacle that had just occurred. He sat next to Harley, who just kept his eyes firmly on the whiteboard Mr. Harrington was filling up with equations and chemical symbols.

Class was uneventful for the most part, aside from Flash turning around in his seat and sending kissy faces towards Peter and Harley every now and again.

The second the bell rang Harley bolted from the classroom, leaving Peter in the dark once more.

Peter made it to his locker after a few minutes of trying to fray a passage in the gaggle of teenagers that constantly littered the halls. He didn’t see Ned nor MJ as he expected, but did see a large circle of his classmates nearby.

There were dozens of kids, all stuck together, shoulder-to-shoulder, making a wall of teenage flesh and bones between Peter and the apparent excitement.

Peter dropped his books off at his locker, filled his backpack up with the necessary supplies for his next class, and tried to squeeze into the circle to see what was happening.

When he finally made it inside, in between Betty Brant and Cindy Moon, he was unsurprised by what he found.

A boy from Peter’s grade, large of build, tall, handsome and stupid, exchanging punches with a similar boy, as a girl stood next to the fight in hysterical tears.

Peter didn’t find it interesting enough to stay, and he knew no one was in any physical danger, seeing as the boys were of the same strength and it really wasn’t even that strong.

He left the circle, allowing more room for newcomers to come and enjoy the fight, and went towards Harley’s locker, thinking about how to approach a conversation about what had happened before their first class.

He turned onto the corridor that Harley’s locker was in, finding Ned and MJ there as well.

He plastered on a quick smile to try to ease his way into an undoubtedly uncomfortable talk and started closing the distance between himself and his 3 friends.

Harley had his back to Peter, making it impossible to see his face, whereas he could see Ned and MJ. As he got closer, he could see their displeased expressions, anger for MJ, and worry for Ned.

Peter quickened his pace, fear settling in his bones. Just as he turned his body to face Harley, his spider-sense warned him of the upcoming sight.

Harley held his hand up to his left eye, his right eye squinting in pain, filling up with tears that he stubbornly prevented from falling. His nose was dripping with blood, marring his face from its usual handsomeness. Smudges of black and blue along his left cheekbone remained visible, despite his hand hovering above.

Peter’s jaw dropped, a distraught and shocked look twisting his features into a frown.

He raised his hand to move Harley’s from his eye, revealing the black eye Peter had expected to see. He took the injured boy’s hand in his, looked into his friend’s eyes and set his jaw,

“Who did this to you?”

Harley left the classroom in an extreme hurry. He had no desire to stay in Flash’s vicinity longer than absolutely necessary for his education.

Maybe Tony was right. Maybe he wasn’t ready to go back to school.

Or maybe this school just had some shit kids.

Harley was turned around in this new school, especially having left Peter behind. He would’ve waited to walk with him, but then he would’ve had to explain what happened before class, and that was, just, not happening.

He walked from hallway to hallway, not knowing where his locker was, or even where he had come from. It wasn’t until he saw Ned and MJ in the distance that he felt relief. 

His relief was short-lived, as he didn’t just cross paths with Ned and MJ.

Flash had apparently been following him closely, or found a shortcut to the exact corridor Harley had been in. Him and his friends made a blockade in front of Harley, preventing him from leaving this situation he definitely adored.

“Hey! Hey, new kid. Got a name, loverboy?” Flash called, laughing with his posse at the nickname he found so incredibly hilarious .

“Harley. Can you move out of the way, now? Thanks,” he answered impatiently, feigning indifference.

“Oh! Look at what we have here, a Southern cowboy! Won’t you do a little dance for us, cowboy?” The taunts Flash was throwing weren’t exactly intelligent, but they did their job of being provoking.

Harley gripped his backpack straps a little tighter and tried to push past the lineup of boys. It wasn’t enough to get them to budge, so he was shoved back into Flash’s line of sight.

“Trying to leave the party so soon? Got to get back to your boyfriend Parker?”

Harley became increasingly panicked, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was going and he could feel the tension growing thicker with every passing second.

“I’m just trying to get to my locker, man,” he reasoned, seeking any glimpse of sympathy.

Flash’s entire demeanor changed in a split-second, his eyes softening and his hand coming up to touch Harley’s shoulder. He shied away from the touch, but Flash was insistent on the contact. Harley hissed at the touch, but kept his straight face as Flash spoke kindly to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re new, of course you don’t know where your locker is.” Flash sent a glare to his goons, making them open up a space for Harley to leave through.

Before he got the chance to leave Flash’s grasp, though, a fist collided with the left side of his face, sending him toppling into the row of lockers next to him.

Flash’s grip tightened cruelly onto his shoulder, making Harley’s face scrunch in agony as he was punched twice more in the face. 

His face was swollen, his nose bloodied, and his shoulder throbbing as Flash uttered his last words before taking his leave.

“You and Parker make me sick.”

“Harley,” said Peter, trying to convey his care for the other boy in a single word. “Who did this to you?”

Harley didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to have to explain, or discuss, or have anything to do with what was inevitably coming his way. The only way to move past this without dwelling on it would be to deny it.

“I’m fine,” he lied, very unconvincingly as well. “I tripped.”

“You tripped and got a black eye, a bloody nose and bruises over 50% of your face?”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing for Harley to use as an excuse, but it was the best he could come up with on a moment’s notice.

“Yeah. I did,” he said, voice firm and hard, leaving no room for contesting. “We have to get to class.” Harley started moving to his locker, grabbing his things and shoving them haphazardly into his backpack with his good arm. He weaved his way past Ned, MJ and Peter, all of whom were watching him in bewilderment. 

He probably didn’t even know where his class was, nor what subject it was, but he needed to get out of there.

Peter, for one, was not done with that conversation. He was angry, furious to a point that had never been experienced before. He cared about Harley, he liked Harley. He should’ve been there when Harley needed him. The first thing he did should’ve been to go find him, not stop by his locker. Especially not stop to look at those guys fighting. This was all his fault. If he had just been there , nothing bad would’ve gone down. He would’ve stopped it. Hell, Peter would’ve revealed his identity as Spider-Man if it meant he could’ve helped Harley. He was worth it, he was worth everything. 

He was worth revenge.

Though Peter couldn’t be sure this was Flash’s doing, he was pretty damn sure it was Flash. He would’ve preferred to confirm it with Harley, but that wasn’t going to happen in a timely manner. He felt it best to at least try to to get an assuring answer before going to pummel the wrong kid, though.

“Do you guys know who did it?” He asked Ned and MJ who had side-stepped, giving the boys as much privacy as they could in the narrow hallway.

“He didn’t say anything to us, but we did see Flash and his friends coming from his direction.” MJ had supplied his answer and for that he would be eternally grateful.

He gave her his genuine thanks, for both the information, and taking care of Harley while Peter was gone. He asked them to keep an eye on Harley whilst he was gone, to make sure there was someone with him in case of another mishap . 

“Oh, I can go with him,” offered Ned. “The three of us are in English next, so it’s no problem.” Peter didn’t think he’d ever loved Ned Leeds as much as he did at that moment. Except maybe that time he was fighting Vulture’s minions at homecoming.

After thanking his friends, he darted straight in the direction MJ had said they went at superhuman speed. Peter wasn’t very good at concealing his abilities when his friends were endangered. Or when it came to avenging them. He was (technically) an Avenger, after all.

Peter found Flash and his crew snickering amongst themselves by their lockers. It was a typical scene; Flash, flaunting his daddy’s exclusively rich items, his friends all clamoring around to feel included and cool. Peter wasted no time in niceties and went straight to the gold. 

It all seemed to happen both in slow motion and in the blink of an eye at the same time. It was over before Peter realized, but he knew every single detail of every single millisecond that had passed. 

He had grabbed Flash’s collar and pushed him against his locker, slamming it shut in the process. Flash’s eyes went wide, his breathing became increasingly sporadic and uneven, panic written on his features. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Peter seethed, completely overcome with white-hot anger.

“Hey! Hey! Parker, let me down. I didn’t do anything to your precious boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? Then explain the black eye, dipshit,” he replied. There was undeniable evidence that Flash had did this, from MJ’s testimony, to the way Flash immediately knew it was about Harley. “I know it was you, I want to know why.”

“He’s a freak, okay? He’s a southern bitch, and you two were practically cuddling this morning. It’s disgusting.”

It’s unclear whether Flash was trying to be truthful, or if he truly thought saying that would make Peter more likely to cooperate. The answer is no. He did not cooperate. He punched the living daylights out of Eugene Thompson.

He swung his fist into the side of Flash’s face, holding back so it only caused minor damage and not a concussion strong enough to send him into a coma.

He let the bully slide along the lockers to the floor, as Peter moved to head towards his next class, having only a few seconds before the bell rang.

He sat down in between Ned and Harley, shooting glances both ways to see if anything had happened while Peter was dealing with personal matters . Ned shook his head to indicate no new developments had taken place in his absence. They both looked back to the teacher who had just begun her teachings.

A few minutes into their second lecture of the day, the class was interrupted by a knock at the door. Their teacher opened, to reveal Principal Morita looking less than impressed.

“Mr. Parker, please grab your things and come with me.”

See, Peter wasn’t expecting to get away with all of this unscathed, not at all. But, it was self-defense. Well, not exactly, it was avenging, which is just as noble and should be tolerated as such.

He did as requested; he picked his backpack up from the back of his chair, met Harley’s questioning and very concerned gaze, and made his way to the principal’s office with the man himself.

He was asked to take a seat in the office, where Flash was already nursing an angry looking bruise on his jawline. They waited patiently for their guardians to arrive, Flash’s mother doing so first. 

She greeted him kindly, rushing to his side and examining the marks on her son’s face. She sent dirty looks to Peter every so often, making her displeasure very well-known.

“Ah, Mrs. Stark, thank you for joining us,” said Mr. Morita upon seeing the blonde woman approach his office.

Peter’s head turned so quickly he almost got whiplash. His eyes went wider than they ever had. Pepper Potts was standing in his school. She was in the office, acting as his legal guardian.

He didn’t expect May to show up, she had a shift at the hospital and she couldn’t just pick up and leave at the drop of a hat, her patients deserved better than that. That’s why they had put Mr. Stark as his second emergency contact, knowing how close he and Peter were, that it was the best option. 

He was truly dreading seeing Mr. Stark, especially under these circumstances, especially after their fight.

“Call me Pepper. Please,” she greeted, sending a wink to Peter, who was shrinking into his seat.

Flash had also not been expecting to see Pepper Potts, CEO to Stark Industries in his school that day. The look of pure fear as she walked into the room was priceless, but Peter was far too concerned about his explanations to enjoy it. 

The principal explained what Flash had told him about their altercation, saying Peter attacked him entirely unprovoked.

“Unprovoked? You beat up my friend! That sure as fuck isn’t unprovoked!” Peter exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“Language, Mr. Parker,” Mr. Morita said, which caused Peter to sit back down and cross his arms. “Is this true, Mr. Thompson? Did you initiate a fight with another student?”

“My son would never do such a thing! This boy is making excuses, blaming anybody else. He should be expelled!” Flash’s mother was hysterical, on the verge of tears over the accusations Peter was making. 

“Peter, which friend did you say Flash fought? If we can get them in here, we can know for sure Peter isn’t lying.” Pepper reasoned, having never taken her eyes off the boy.

Everyone turned to look at Peter. He just stared at his shoes, wanting nothing more than to be invisible.

“Harley,” he whispered, just loud enough for the room to hear.

Flash sighed, knowing his defeat was forthcoming. Pepper’s expression softened and became truly saddened.

The principal left to go fetch Harley, coming back in a minute or so later, the boy hot on his trail. 

Harley slowed his pace as he took in the 5 people in the room. The principal, looking disappointed and frustrated. Flash, playing the victim and being coddled by his mother, who was being overly dramatic. Peter, fiddling with his fingers and his leg twitching with anxiety. And, finally, Pepper, whose face dropped the second Harley approached the room.

“Oh, honey, come here,” Pepper said as she pulled him into a hug. “I'm so sorry this happened.” 

Mr. Morita continued with his protocol as best he could. “Mr. Keener, we’ll have to wait until your guardian gets here to-”

“That would be me,” sighed Pepper. “Please continue.”

The principal looked quizzically from Peter, to Pepper, to Harley before giving a curt nod and moving on. “Right, well. Mr. Keener’s injuries look… more severe. Are you sure you’re alright, kid?”

Harley brought his gaze up from Peter to Mr. Morita, and gave the man a quiet ‘yes.’

“Mr. Thompson, may I ask why you started this fight?”

Flash tripped over his words, unable to form a complete sentence that made any sense. 

The principal hummed in response to the teen’s stuttering. “I thought as much. Mr. Thompson, you’ll have a 3-day suspension for this outburst, seeing as it was an unprecedented act of aggression.”

His mother almost threw a fit, she was sobbing uncontrollably, cursing this ‘unjust system of oppression.’

The Thompsons were escorted from the school by security staff while Pepper, Peter and Harley were still discussing with Mr. Morita.

“Mr. Parker, I’ll need to give you a suspension as well. Although this was some sort of self-defense, there were other ways to deal with it. A single-day suspension should do it, seeing as this is your first offense. If this ever happens again, it’ll be longer, I want to be clear on that.”

“Yes, sir,” said Peter, glancing up from his shoes.

“As for you, Mr. Keener, please let me know if there’s anything we can do to help. If you need to change classes, or get a locker further away from Mr. Thompson’s, it’s all doable.”

Harley looked to Peter, seeing him so small and shy. “No. No, I’m good with what I have.” He answered, still not looking up from the other boy. 

“Would you mind if I brought Harley home, as well? This seemed to be a little too much excitement for one day.”

“Of course, Pepper. It’s no trouble at all, I’ll handle the absences.”

Pepper led both of them out of the school, thanking the principal for his time. They found Happy leaning on the side of the car in front of the school, waiting for them.

Peter stopped a few steps away from the car, meeting Pepper’s eyes as she turned to him.

“Ms. Potts, thank you for coming, it really was… better, than if it had been Mr. Stark. But, why were you the one to come?” He asked, clearly embarrassed about asking, but genuinely curious about the answer.

“Tony hasn’t left the garage in way too long, he still needs sleep. So, I took away his lab privileges, garage privileges and phone privileges. Your school called, I was the one to answer.”

“Oh,” Peter said. That was a much better answer than he had been expecting. Thank God she hadn’t said ‘Well, he hates you after your fight so he asked me to come and deal with you because he couldn’t be bothered to even look in your direction.’

They crossed the few feet of distance remaining between themselves and the car, which Harley and Happy were already seated in.

Happy didn’t get a chance to ask about the bruises on Harley’s face before Pepper asked him to drive them home, so he’d stay in the dark. Hopefully, Pepper would explain it to him later. He didn’t know the kid very well, but he seemed like a nice kid.

The car ride back to the Tower was quiet. Eerily so. It was far too uncomfortable for the incredibly short amount of time it lasted. 

Pepper could only imagine the field day Tony was going to have over this.

Chapter Text

Tony was sleeping on a couch in the penthouse living room when he was shaken awake by his fiancée.

Pepper had a very stern face on, and was not in the mood for any sort of games he might have to play. She grabbed him by the arm and tugged him along to their bedroom, where they might have some privacy.

On their way towards the room, they saw Harley at the end of the hall for a brief moment; he stayed entirely silent and glum with his head down. Following closely behind him was Peter, ignoring everyone except Harley, keeping his eyes glued on the other teen with an incredible amount of concern.

Tony was confused at the sight, as he knew it was still morning, meaning the boys were supposed to be at school. He figured, though, that with the way Pepper was being cryptic, he would be getting answers to his questions soon enough.

As soon as they crossed the doorway, Pepper closed the door and turned back on her heels to face Tony.

“The boys are home from school for the rest of the day. They’re not going tomorrow either.” She stated calmly, ready for the reaction she knew would be coming.

“Is everything okay?” Tony asked. He knew it probably wasn’t serious, seeing as Pepper was as calm as ever, but he still couldn’t help but ask.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Peter punched a kid, because the kid punched Harley.”

Tony’s heart rate skyrocketed after her sentence. His eyes went wide and the wind was knocked out of him. He tried to form words, to no avail. He kept glancing between his partner and the door, trying to make a decision and do anything but just stand there.

Sure, he had fought with both of them, but that doesn’t mean he wants them to be injured, especially not picking fights at school.

Tony’s lack of verbal response seemed unsettling to Pepper, as he was usually very verbal when it came to things he cared about. Like when they had a screaming match over a humongous teddy bear he had gotten her, once.

She eyed him curiously, trying to understand why he wasn’t ranting on and on and insisting to see both boys. “What happened between you and them?”

Tony was pulled from his thoughts by his girlfriend’s comment. It was no use lying, she would either figure it out by herself or bully him into answering her truthfully. 

“We fought,” he sighed, admitting defeat.

“With which one?”

“Both. On two different occasions, though. Over the same topic.”

“And that topic would be?”

“The reason why Harley came here.”

Pepper did a double take after his response. Tony had been so eager about letting Harley stay with them. It had come so naturally, it was like second-nature for him to welcome the boy into their home, make him a part of their family. And now he was questioning it?

“You said, yourself, that Harley was kicked out. Isn’t that why he’s here?” She asked, never forgetting anything, filing it neatly away in her picture perfect memory.

“Yes, but we don’t know why he was kicked out. It just irked me a little, not knowing the full extent of the situation.” Tony tried to stay calm, this time. He knew that aggravating Pepper was not something that was pretty, but he also knew that he had had enough of fighting over the very same thing over and over again.

“Right. Well. You said you fought? So he didn’t give you a conclusive answer?”

“No, he didn’t. But, I’m not pushing him into it, either. I told him he could stay here, and that still stands. Always will.”

“Good. Now go tell him that.” She said, nodding her head towards the door. “Bring him some ice while you’re at it, his black eye seemed pretty bad.”

Tony was reminded of just how this conversation had started, and it sickened him. He kissed his fiancée farewell, leaving the room and going towards the kitchen.

Harley whipped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. He didn’t want to have to explain himself, he didn’t want to have to defend himself or try to convince Pepper, or Happy, or Tony that he didn’t deserve to be beat up at school. He was a kid. Yeah, he was 16, he was mature, he was forced to grow up too quickly. That doesn’t give other people the right to start fights out of nowhere. 

He did nothing wrong.

Well. He was born wrong.

Peter hadn’t taken his eyes off Harley since they had left the school, and he was determined not to break his streak now.

He followed the other boy into the Tower, keeping in step as much as he could. He and Pepper slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed, most likely FRIDAY’s doing; not that she’d ever admit it.

When they got to the penthouse, Pepper went off to the living room, whereas Harley darted straight towards his room. Peter followed suit, as worried about his friend as ever.

The room was dark. It was cold and unaccommodating. Harley had slept there for a few nights, but that didn’t make it his . It seemed sterile, plain. Grey and white, black and silver. Nothing special, nothing welcoming. 

Maybe today had darkened everything around Harley. It had made everything look sadder. Despair had plunged its clutches into him, reminding him so kindly that he wasn’t worth happiness. He didn’t deserve it. 

He had decided to be disgusting. 

To be a disappointment to his family. 

To be gay.

Harley moved further into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His friend did the same, turning the lights on as he did so. The gloom around Harley seemed to lift, ever so slightly. It might’ve been because of the lights. It also might’ve been because Peter was sitting less than a foot away from him.

He knew this feeling of almost-peace wouldn’t last long, so he was determined to savor it.

Peter, however, didn’t get the cue.

“Are you okay?” He asked timidly, barely raising his voice above a whisper.

Harley met the other boy’s eyes, pushed the hair out of his own face and answered as honestly as he could. “Yeah, I’ve had worse.”

Woops. That was not a smart move. Not a smart move at all, Mr. Keener.

Peter’s face went from apprehensive to panic-stricken. “You’ve had worse? ” He croaked out, stuttering over every word as his brain tried not to jump to the most horrendous conclusions.

Harley sighed deeply, knowing there was no backtracking now. He looked down at his shoes, holding tightly onto himself in an effort to provide comfort. “A little worse. It’s nothing, really. Just didn’t have the nicest dad, is all.”

That seemed to light up every alarm in Peter’s body. He sat up straighter, stopped the fidgeting with his fingers he’d begun a minute prior, and turned his entire body to face Harley.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently, almost afraid to push the conversation into something more painful than the day had already been after only a few hours.

“‘Suppose I have to, now.”

“No! No, you absolutely don’t!” Peter was quick to retort, shaking his hands around frantically. “I didn’t hear anything, we were just talking about, um, sports.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of Harley. “Do you even play any sport, darlin’?”

“I’m on the academic decathlon team..?”

“Not a sport. Nice try, hun.”

Harley finally had a smile on his face. The dimple on his cheek deepened, just as Peter fell harder for the southerner in front of him.

They stared at each other for a minute more, and for the first time in years, the silence wasn't horrible. It wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was just him and Peter. Sitting together. Together.

Peter broke eye contact first, chuckling to himself in the way Harley found most endearing. He knew that, logically, Peter had come here for answers. Not to be all cute and awkward with Harley. He wouldn’t want that. Who would want to be like that with Harley?

“Go on, ask all those questions running around your brain.” Harley prompted, causing Peter’s serious face to return and face him, once more.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” Insisted Peter, as adamant as ever about keeping Harley’s privacy and trust.

Harley’s internal turmoil didn’t spin out of control. It didn’t weigh the dozens of pros and cons of telling Peter or staying quiet. It knew the answer. There was only one true path he could take that wouldn’t leave him feeling empty and alone.

“My dad… He shouldn’t have been a dad. He didn’t want to be, and he didn’t know how to be a good one.”

Peter had his eyes fixed on the ruminating boy. He could tell this wasn’t fun, by the tone of voice Harley used, by the way he couldn’t lift his gaze from the ground, and by the way he spoke just loud enough for Peter to hear, making sure his voice wouldn’t even carry to the door.

Peter didn’t want to pry, he didn’t want to force Harley into something he wasn’t ready for. He also didn’t want to tell him to stop. He wanted to learn more, he felt he needed to know more. If he had a stronger connection, a better understanding of the other boy, he could better help him.

“Did you- Did you want to stop?” He asked, placing a hand on Harley’s knee slowly.

He contemplated taking the out. Just shutting up and locking everything away again. He thought back on the start of the day. On what happened at school. On what got Peter taken out of class.

Except, he didn’t know what had gotten Peter taken out of class. He put a few pieces together when he saw Flash all bruised, but that didn’t give him a clear picture.

“What did you do to Flash this morning?” He asked, looking Peter dead in the eyes.

Peter was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. He took his hand off from Harley’s leg and started fidgeting with his fingers; clearly, he was nervous.

“He- He hit you,” affirmed Peter, as if that explained everything.

“And you hit him. Why would you do that? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, that guy doesn’t pull his punches.”

“I can take it,” said Peter, wrapping his arms around himself. “I just- I want to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Scoffed Harley, incredulous.

“Yeah, you’re my friend. I care about you. A- A lot.”

Harley’s eyes softened at the admission. The world seemed to melt away for a minute, the past and the future disappearing to leave just the present. To leave just this moment.

“I care about you too.”

They smiled shyly at each other, trying not to let the blush on their cheeks show too much.

A knock at the door pulled the boys from their loving gazes. They turned to the door in unison, surprised when it didn’t open itself. The only person who normally knocked was Wanda, and she’d let herself in with a flurry of red and pink after a few seconds.

The person on the other side seemed to be waiting for permission to be let in. Everyone knew that Harley was staying in this guest room, but none usually waited to be welcomed into the room. He had only had a few regular visitors in the short amount of time he’d been staying at the Tower; Tony, Pepper, Peter and Wanda. Sam had stopped by once, but that was just one time. Tony and Pepper mainly came to say goodnight and make sure he was settling in okay. Peter spent most of his time with Harley, so it wasn’t a surprise that the boy would want to be in his vicinity as much as possible. Wanda had become a close friend, so she would also say hello and offer to keep him company while Peter was at school.

Harley hesitated a few moments before speaking.

“Come in,” he said, unsure of who he should be expecting on the other side.

He would’ve thought Natasha, she seemed polite enough to knock and wait when entering an almost-stranger’s room. Bruce was a possibility, although he’d only seen the man for a few moments at breakfast a couple days ago, he seemed overly anxious about walking in on people at inappropriate times, or being a bother when he truly wasn’t. 

He was quite surprised when he saw the one and only Iron Man walk into the room.

“Hey, boys,” he greeted with a sigh.

“What happened?” asked Peter, knowing Tony wouldn’t be here if something hadn’t gone horribly wrong .

“What? Nothing,” said Tony, stunned. “I just came here to talk to you.”

“You want to talk to us? Or are you gonna have more steam blow out of your ears?” Harley responded, uninterested in whatever shenanigans Tony was up to.

“I want to apologize,” Tony croaked, unable to make eye contact with either of the teens sitting on the bed.

Everyone went quiet. Harley and Peter turned to each other, astonished at what they were hearing from Anthony Edward Stark. An apology? That was so out of character Harley would’ve burst into laughter if not for the sick feeling of dread looming over the room. That was so out of character. What could possibly have pushed Tony into apologizing? The man never admitted he was wrong. Ever. He quite literally destroyed the Avengers for a few weeks because he and Cap wouldn’t admit the other was right on some fronts.

Harley knew this wasn’t good, he had known Tony for most of his life and this was definitely something new.

“Just tell us what happened, we know something’s wrong,” he insisted, trying to avoid the games Tony was playing.

“Nothing’s wrong, I swear,” he said, finally looking at each of the boys, conveying his honesty.

It was even more unsettling that he was being truthful about everything being fine. He truly was just here to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Harley. For everything that I said,” Tony spoke, sounding as sincere as he could. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. I’m sorry for pushing you. You aren’t ready to talk and I should’ve respected that.”

Holy shit. Tony was apologizing. He was being descriptive, specific and sincere . It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill, basic, plagiarized-a-million-times-over apology. It was true. It was kind.

It made Harley feel safe.

“I’m sorry for shoutin’” Harley murmured, holding up his end of the relationship as well. He’d felt no remorse for yelling when Tony was accusing him of crimes, but now that he knew how Tony truly felt, it only seemed fair for him to apologize too.

Tony smiled slightly at the comment, reassured that the boy had been raised right, and would continue to be, as long as he stayed at the Tower. He then turned to Peter, his smile fading as a solemn look appeared once more over his face.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have dismissed you like I did. You mean more to me than that, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you were just trying to help. I apologize.”

Peter was hesitant to respond. On one hand, he still felt betrayed by Tony; betrayed when Tony had tossed him aside like he was a piece of scrap metal not even worth saving, and betrayed when Tony had treated Harley like a criminal and a liar. On the other hand, Harley had accepted his apology, Peter thought he should follow along.

Quietly, he responded, giving into his gut feeling that this was a step in the right direction.

“I accept your apology.”

Peter gave a weak smile to Tony as he said so, receiving one from the man as well.

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it, then. See you at lunch?” Tony asked hopefully, yet he knew the answer was most likely going to be a no.

“Sure,” answered Harley. “We’ll be at lunch.”

Peter’s eyebrows wrinkled at the promise, unsure of just how trusting they should be.

Tony twinkled, thankful that his kids were returning to his life. He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Peter turned to Harley, and smiled at the boy he liked.

“I- I should go too,” he whispered. He knew Harley had had a rough day. At school, with Tony’s apology. He probably needed time to process everything.

“Alright, darlin’” Harley beamed at the other teen. “I’ll see you this afternoon, hun.”

Peter giggled at the nicknames, more infatuated with the boy more with every passing day. He headed towards the door, glancing back at his friend one last time before leaving the room. He took in as many of his features as possible, memorizing every detail he had learned to adore, tracing every curl of the boy’s hair with his eyes, falling in love like every other teenager.

Harley loved the pauses Peter took when he spoke. The little hesitations when he was choosing his words. The way his laugh sounded like the most adorable melody he’d ever heard. He cherished the looks Peter sent his way when he thought he wasn’t looking. His eyes going from peppy and bright, to soft and caring. Peter restored peace within Harley, when they were together he felt calm. All memories of his past, all torments and lingering issues were gone in the blink of an eye when Peter came along. He was a safehouse. And, for the first time ever, Harley was falling in love like every other teenager.

Lunch had been rather mundane, just a few jokes and polite banter. Pepper was glad to see them all interacting normally, though she hadn’t witnessed the fights or the cold shoulder she knew they were giving each other. The Tower felt warmer, knowing their hearts were filled.

Dinnertime rolled around, and Peter wasn’t sure whether or not Harley had any plans to eat it by himself. In an attempt to make the other teen feel more at ease in the Tower, he felt it best to enable Harley and bring him dinner to his room. 

Breakfast in bed, dinner on a divan. Potato, potahto.

Peter went to the common floor kitchen, made a few sandwiches (he knew Harley wouldn’t trust it if he had used the stove to cook anything), and brought them up to the penthouse. He greeted Tony and Pepper as he passed by, seeing the couple seated on the couch, watching some Lifetime movie.

He knocked on Harley’s door and let himself into the room with a grin from ear to ear.

“Hey Harls, I brought you dinner!” he announced, holding out the half-dozen sandwiches he made.

“Harls? Really? Is this payback for me calling you darlin’?” Harley laughed, grinning right back at Peter.

“Sure is, babe.”

Harley scoffed at the balls Peter seemed to have grown overnight. Then, he gratefully accepted the sandwiches.

Before digging into their respective meals, they each held out their sandwiches in a ‘cheers’ motion.

“Long live the Queen!” said Peter through a fit of laughter.

“Long live Dolly Parton!” responded Harley with a giggle of his own. They both stopped laughing long enough to drop their sandwiches from the bottom’s up position and start eating, their smiles never fading.

This was it.

This was love.

Neither of them would admit it, but this was their first unofficial date.

And it was pretty damn perfect.

Chapter Text

“Are you being serious right now?” asked Harley, eyeing Peter to determine whether this was a prank.

“Yeah…” murmured Peter, afraid of how the other boy might react.

Harley stared back at his friend with his mouth hanging open, completely aghast.

“You’ve never seen Mamma Mia,” stated Harley, receiving a nod from the other teen. “That’s unacceptable, Pete. We’re watching it right now.”

He got up, started marching around his room, looking for the remote to the TV in the guest room. 

“Now? Really?” Peter laughed, surprised at just how passionate Harley was about a movie. “Harls, come on, it’s not that important.”

Harley stopped his rummaging, and looked Peter dead in the eyes. “Mamma Mia will always be this important.”

Peter just laughed it off, flopping onto the bed. Harley finally found the remote and layed down right next to Peter, starting up the movie on Netflix. Harley wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders, bringing him a smidge closer than he was before.

They both stayed there, side by side, watching one of Harley’s favorite movies, slowly swaying to the music that occasionally played.

Halfway through the movie, Peter felt more interested in Harley than what they were watching. Sure, it was important to Harley, but the boy himself seemed to be of greater importance. He thought about how Harley had opened up to him earlier, even if it was just slightly. Peter felt it was his turn to talk about his past, maybe make it easier for Harley to come to him, make him see he’s not alone.

“My dad died when I was a kid,” he said, making his company turn to him in confusion.

Harley paused, unsure how to respond to Peter’s statement that came from the deepest, darkest, naviest blue. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he stuttered, trying to understand the conversation as it went along. 

Peter looked up from the TV, meeting Harley’s eyes. “I know what it’s like to not have a dad there,” he confessed, looking far more uncertain than Harley would’ve expected from his tone of voice.

Harley’s demeanor changed. He went from being confused, and rather uncomfortable, to kind and understanding. He felt more at-ease now. It was really sweet, what Peter was doing. He was relating to Harley, connecting them with this bond that seemed too powerful to break. A past, a trauma they share that creates this cord between them, tethering them to each other in a caring, loving way. Like anchors tied together, holding each other down when it’s needed, keeping each other safe.

“My sister would like you,” he smiled, squeezing Peter closer to him, giving him a side-hug.

“I’m sure I’d like your sister too,” Peter replied, turning himself to cuddle into Harley, ignoring any anxieties that warned him not to and to keep his distance.

Harley ran his hand through Peter’s hair, twisting the boy’s curls as smiles draped over their faces. They stayed quiet throughout the rest of the film, their breaths evening out, growing calmer with every minute they were together. They fell asleep, holding onto each other, Harley’s hand still entangled in Peter’s hair, his other holding Peter’s hand, stroking it ever so gently with his thumb.

They might not officially be together.

But they were physically together.

And that was enough for the both of them.

For now.

Tony had gone to his office after apologizing to the boys. He’d have to remember to thank Pepper for getting him to agree to that. It really broke down the walls that had built between him and the kids, and things were starting to look up for everyone around the Tower.

“ Someone’s at the door, boss, ” FRIDAY alerted, right as the door swung open in a rather aggressive move.

Tony looked up from his computer, unperturbed when he was faced with Natasha, once again. However, this time she wasn’t alone.

“Pleasure to see you again, Hill,” he greeted, his eyes flitting to the woman standing in the doorway behind her girlfriend.

“Wish I could say the same, Stark,” she replied, stepping closer to be beside Nat.

“Were you planning on telling us about Harley’s fight at school?” Natasha asked pointedly, raising one eyebrow at the man who remained seated at his desk.

A flash of confusion and anger seeped into Tony’s features. He hadn’t told them because it’d barely been a few hours. He wasn’t withholding information, he was just giving himself and the boys time to process. “Who told you about the fight?” he asked, ready to find them and beat them to a pulp.

“It’s in his school records,” Maria answered, dropping a rather thick folder onto the desk.

Tony looked, perplexed, from the folder to the couple standing before him. “What is this?”

“I told you I’d keep an eye on the kid. That includes doing research, pulling information, records, etc.” 

He should’ve known Natasha would pull something like this. She never took anything lightly, especially not a security threat or a possible mole. That didn’t make this any less of an astounding violation of privacy.

“You’re insane. Both of you,” he accused, grabbing the file and looking through it. He could see pictures of Harley as a child, school pictures and IDs. There were pages and pages of descriptions of Harley’s family. Their reputation in the small town, the various marriages and divorces that occured over the years, and the evident alcoholism his father had suffered from when Harley was just a toddler.

“Harley got into a fight, Tony. At school. On his first day,” Natasha explained, as though he wasn’t already incredibly aware. “That doesn’t bode well for his future.”

“If he keeps pulling these kinds of stunts,” Maria added threateningly. “Then he’ll have to leave the Tower, Tony.”

Tony snapped up at that. Though he knew she was just saying it to get him to react, it didn’t make him immune to worrying about the kid. “You can’t do that, Hill, that’s not your call. This is my Tower.”

“It’s the Avengers’ Tower, Tony,” Maria replied, unimpressed and practically bored. “SHIELD owns it, Fury calls the shots, and Fury trusts me . If I say the kid goes, the kid goes .”

Tony looked at each woman, thoroughly disgusted that they would threaten to remove a child from the last place he could go to. He felt his anger rising inside him, but this time he wouldn’t try to simmer it down. He would let it burn, white and hot. He would protect Harley with as much fierceness as he deserved.

“Harley didn’t fight the kid unprovoked. Harley didn’t even so much as punch the kid. Not a punch, not a kick, not even a menacing gaze. The kid didn’t do anything,” Tony growled, unwavering in his stance to protect the boy. “ Peter is the one who actually got into a fight. Harley was punched by some prick in that school, and he took it. Peter wanted revenge, because he obviously cares about his friend, and he went back to the kid and socked him one of his own.”

Tony was seething, but he wasn’t done with his murderous ramblings. “Are you going to threaten to get Peter thrown out of the Tower forever, Deputy Director Hill?”

Maria looked genuinely surprised by Tony’s explanation. They obviously hadn’t gotten the entirety of the fight from his file . What kind of incredibly bored principal would write out an entire petty fight into each of the kid’s permanent records? That’s right, none.

Natasha, however, had only raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You’re telling us that Peter, human-golden-retriever Peter Parker, punched a kid out of spite?

Tony just looked at her as though she’d asked the most stupid question he’d ever heard. “The kid is Spider-Man,” he spat, finally standing up from his seat. “He has superhuman strength, he could knock any of us out in a second.”

Nat exhaled sharply, clearly she didn’t enjoy losing an argument as much as winning. She nodded slowly, thinking over the conversation, evaluating what this meant about Harley’s character. Judging him far more harshly than she probably should.

“Thanks, Tony,” she said, holding out her hand for the folder. Tony slapped it into her hand, perhaps a little too forcefully. She merely rolled her eyes at his childish behavior and walked away.

Maria looked a little regretful for coming in guns blazing, though her remorse was never voiced, it merely showed on her face. “Thank you, Tony,” she added, more sincerely than her partner had, and followed in her footsteps.

Tony was left alone in his office, once again. He could do nothing but ponder just how much information Natasha had gotten on Harley, and if any of it could possibly be of use to him.

No.

No, come on. He had been so entirely aggressive when she’d shown him how much dirt she’d dug up on Harley. He couldn’t go crawling back to her the next second because he thought of a use for her spy skills. He wouldn’t stoop that low.

He could handle himself, and if he really needed to know something about Harley, he could ask the boy, himself. He didn’t need Natasha to do that for him. Though, he knew she would always be at arm’s reach, should he ever absolutely require it.

He picked himself up and headed to the penthouse for lunch with his family. His new, full family.

The sun rose on a new day, slowly but surely, letting the light creep into the skyscraper they lived in.

The warmth of its rays made its way to the two figures lying side by side in Peter’s bed, pulling them out of their sleep.

They had moved apart during their slumber, making their awakening much less awkward than it could’ve been, had they been as close as they were the previous night.

“Morning, darlin’” Harley said, rubbing his eyes, after seeing Peter was also waking up.

“Morning, Harls,” the boy replied, yawning and stretching his arms.

They both reluctantly got out of bed, desperately wishing to go back to the simpler times they were experiencing last night. Just the two of them watching a movie, the rest of reality was nothing but a distant idea.

Harley really didn’t feel like going to school. Not after having his ass kicked, having his crush fight back in his honor, and being taken home after an unpleasant chat with his new principal.

Peter was staying home, suspended. Harley wouldn’t even have the comfort of his best friend with him on his second day of school, and that was as bad as it could get.

Peter also wasn’t a fan of Harley going to school alone. He wouldn’t have anyone to defend him, and that would probably be an invitation for Flash‘s goons to make his message even clearer.

The teens exchanged a sad look before following each other out of the room, and towards the penthouse. They thought about having breakfast with the Avengers, but it seemed more fitting to eat with Tony and Pepper.

When they got off the elevator, they waved over to the couple standing at the stove, moving in unison as they prepared breakfast. Pepper smirked at Tony, a look of pride on her face that the boys couldn’t exactly place. She bid them good morning over her shoulder and sat them down at the island.

“Harley, honey, you’re not going to school today,” she said, placing steaming hot eggs in front of each teen.

“I’m not?” Harley asked, hopeful for a far better day than yesterday.

“No. You three,” she gestured to Peter and Tony, as well as Harley. “Have things to figure out, and since Peter isn’t going either, it’s only fair.”

Once again, Pepper proved herself to be an angel. A God-send.

Harley smiled widely and genuinely, thankful for everything Pepper had done for him. “Thank you, Pepper. Truly, thanks.”

“Of course, now eat up,” she smiled, placing two forks in between the boys.

After their most important meal of the day, all three men moved to the lab. The teens hadn’t been able to tinker or invent for the past few days, so it was nice to be back in a space that was made for their skillset and their interests.

Peter and Harley settled in their communal workstation, smiling and laughing before they even got to work. Tony observed them extensively. He noticed the way their walls were down when they were together, how their laughter sounded more sincere when it was caused by the other. They seemed to be terrific friends, and Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. He truly wondered why it had taken him this long to have the boys meet. They were perfect for each other. A perfect friendship, indeed.

Tony didn’t work on very many projects that day. He fixed up a few kinks on his latest Iron Man suit, but didn’t go into designing a newer model. He worried too much about his kids to let himself be engrossed in his tech.

He wondered whether Harley being hurt was his fault. He’d let the kid go to school, he hadn’t stopped him. He hadn’t even bothered to teach him self-defense or ask any of the Avengers to do it, either. That was gross oversight on his part, and would forever haunt his conscience. If he had just taken those extra few seconds to ask Natasha to teach the boy how to dodge a punch, or throw one of his own, maybe this would all have ended differently. 

Also, he couldn’t forget about Peter. Sweet, innocent, kind, caring Peter had hit a kid. On purpose. For revenge. Yeah, he was strong , but he was decent. He wouldn’t do that for himself. If he was being bullied, he would never resort to physical violence to fix it. He would use all of his ‘healthy communication’ bullshit. What did this say about him and Harley? Had they gotten so close that Peter would throw away his morals for him? That seemed extreme for a friend you made 3 days ago. 

The thoughts floating around his head clouded his judgement and impeded his ability to function like a normal human being. So he sat down at his work desk and fiddled with a pencil and paper for hours , staring at the boys in the middle of the lab.

They had an absolute blast. They bounced ideas off each other, and since they had the same mindset and the same references, it went far more smoothly than when Peter would do it with Mr. Stark.

“Oh! I know, we should make that bad guy made of metal that changes shape!” Peter suggested, over-excited at the possibility of recreating something so essential to his childhood.

“Kid, you know we usually build things when we have an actual idea of what we're doing, right?” Tony replied, skeptical at his own ability to pull this one off.

“Yeah yeah, but just imagine if we made the…” Peter stopped, forgetting the name of the fictional person he was thinking of. “What was it called again? Come on, there was Arnold Schwarzenegger in it!”

Tony raised an eyebrow at the boy, wondering if the kid was asking him a question he most definitely didn’t have the answer to. “Fri? What’s the kid’s thing called?”

“T-1000, first appearing in Terminator 2: Judgement Day,” the Irish voice supplied.

Peter and Harley’s connection didn’t require FRIDAY, it barely even needed them to finish their sentences before the other caught on.

“Oh, my God, we should make invisible knives,” Peter exclaimed, mouth wide open in shock at his own idea.

“Glass shanks? Already exist, hun,” Harley said, laughing at how excited Peter had gotten for something that had already been invented by inmates about a billion years ago.

“Shit, you’re right. Well, we can think of something else tomorrow,” he offered, looking at the nearest smartscreen for the time. “It’s 8, we should get going.”

“Do you think Tony’ll mind if we leave him alone for the night?” Harley asked, unsure about their mentor’s state of mind. “He’s been really quiet today.”

“Let’s just tell him we’re going, and see how he reacts. We can gauge from there,” Peter compromised, looking back and forth to his friend and boss.

They both walked closer to Tony’s desk, Harley still questioning whether they were doing the right thing. Peter took the lead in informing him they would be leaving for the night.

“Hey Mr. Stark, we were just heading out for the night. Is there anything we can get you?”

“Nope, great work today boys. See you tomorrow,” he said, smiling fondly at each of the boys.

He hadn’t been chatty, but he seemed to be himself. The dad-version of himself that Harley didn’t know all that well, but Peter was entirely satisfied with the answer and its sincerity.

They walked out of the lab, into the elevator, and down to Peter’s quarters. Another movie date, perhaps?

Harley seemed to have a knack for falling asleep during movies. Maybe it was the darkness, or the quiet of the rest of the room, but it lulled him to sleep in the most surefire way.

Peter smiled at the sleeping boy next to him, enjoying both views he now had in front of him. One in 4k on the TV, and the other in 20/20 vision in his bed.

Half an hour into Harley’s sleep, the boy jolted awake. He was panicked, breathing heavily and looking around disoriented. The boy clutched his shoulder for dear life, as if ensuring it was still attached to the rest of his body. His heart rate was more than elevated, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He squinted into the darkness, fighting to find an image that was familiar to him. He turned around to see the TV on pause, and was smacked back into reality.

It sinked in as he caught his breath, finally able to calm his racing heart. He was in Peter’s room, they had been watching a movie, he had fallen asleep, he had a nightmare.

Peter had definitely been spooked when Harley practically jumped out of bed for seemingly no reason. The boy had been sound asleep one moment, and the next he was fighting off a panic attack. Peter waited until the tension had melted from the other teen’s body before speaking, choosing to let him ground himself on his own. It could’ve been far worse if he’d intervened. God knows what the nightmare was about, maybe Harley would’ve thought Peter was an axe murderer.

After Harley had had a minute or two to cool down, Peter let the worry in him shine bright.

“Harley, are you okay?” he asked, trying hard not to overwhelm the boy with too many questions at once.

“Yeah,” he answered, still looking around fearfully. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter tried, thinking that talking about it might help.

“No. I’m fine. I should probably go, though,” Harley answered, stopping his voyaging gaze on the door.

Peter gave him a sympathetic look. He wasn’t a stranger to nightmares, and he knew that sometimes the best remedy was to have someone to talk to, or just to be there to listen. He also knew that sometimes, it was infinitely better to be alone.

“Okay, goodnight,” he said, kicking himself afterwards for just how lame that was.

“Night,” Harley repeated, walking off into the hallway, rubbing his shoulder from time to time.

This could’ve been Peter's chance to learn more about Harley, but he wouldn’t exploit it, especially not if it made the boy uncomfortable. He had just had a nightmare.

It wasn’t bonding time just yet.

Chapter Text

Peter paced around his room for the next 10 minutes, rethinking his decision of leaving Harley alone. He walked from left to right, right to left, in circles, in straight lines, in the weirdest zig-zag shape. His mind was running, his body had to keep up, as well.

He finally stopped pacing and made up his mind. He couldn’t leave Harley alone.

Maybe sometimes it was best to be alone, but he might’ve just been too shy or embarrassed to ask for the help he truly needs.

Peter darted out of his room, his mind set in stone. The elevator took him to the penthouse, where he tiptoed in the night until he reached Harley’s room. He prayed the other boy wasn’t already asleep, and knocked on the door.

It slowly opened to reveal a puffy-eyed Harley, wearing a look of uncertainty that Peter had yet to see.

Then it hit Peter. What the hell was he doing? Yeah, he was here to reassure Harley and all, but what the fuck did that entail? Would he give him a hug? Just talk it out? All of the above? That seemed incredibly stupid, and he probably should’ve put more thought into his plan before making himself known.

“Um- I just, I wanted to let you know that I care about you. And- And that I’m here for you.” That’s what Peter settled for, and for how stupid he thought it would’ve sounded, it came out far more kind.

Harley’s eyes widened at the statement, clearly taken aback by the true care Peter had for him. It didn’t seem like an act, it truly seemed like the boy wanted to be there, and wanted to help him. He had never had that before.

It was new. And it was beautiful.

“Thanks, Pete,” he said with a small smile and a sniffle.

“I- I know you want to be alone, so I’ll just- yeah, I’ll go,” Peter said, pointing down the hallway and nodding his head shyly.

He had only taken a few steps towards the lift when Harley stopped him.

“Hey, wait. Could you stay?” he asked, clearly appreciating the love Peter had just for him. “Please.”

Peter stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his friend. A smile spread across his face as he skipped over to him, trying to cheer the boy up as he did so. He ruffled Harley’s hair as they walked into the teen’s room.

They settled into Harley’s bed, not giving it a second thought when they ended up snuggling closer than would be platonically. Peter was the one ruffling the other’s hair, this time. They laid together for a while, just holding onto each other and revelling in the other’s presence.

Harley’s stiff body relaxed more and more as they stayed there, being peaceful. He accepted that everything might be okay, at least for a little while. As long as he was near Peter.

Harley had just started drifting off to sleep, his consciousness slipping, when Peter spoke.

“I know what it’s like to have nightmares, too,” he murmured softly, still playing with the curls on his friend’s head.

“Your dad?” Harley asked, just as softly, looking up at the other boy.

“Sometimes, but mostly it’s just bad guys and stuff. Things I could’ve done better.”

“Bad guys? Like that the Avengers fight?” Harley inquired, his interest piqued.

“Yeah, like the ones I fight.”

“The ones you fight?”

“Yeah? Spider-Man?” Peter responded, confused by Harley’s own confusion.

Harley’s eyebrows raised to the very top of his forehead, shock slapping him in the face.

“You’re Spider-Man? ” he squealed, completely awestruck.

Peter’s own face turned to shock when he realized that, obviously, Harley wasn’t aware that he was Spider-Man. He sputtered, trying to find his words or anything to justify what he had just admitted.

“You’re Spider-Man,” whispered Harley, the information settling into his conscience.

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter agreed, internally chastising himself for the blunder.

All that could go through Harley’s mind at that moment was ‘I have a crush on Spider-Man ’.

It didn’t take long for Harley to fall asleep, after learning that his best friend was in fact an Avenger. He was surprisingly okay with it, at least compared to May’s reaction, and Ned’s. Once the initial shock wore off, he went back to trying to sleep. Peter, on the other hand, had no intention of sleeping. He didn’t want to be asleep if Harley were to have another nightmare. He didn’t want to be caught off guard, or not be at his best to help deal with it.

So he stayed awake. Throughout the entirety of the night, just in case Harley might wake up. It’s not like he’s never pulled an all-nighter before; this one just had a greater importance. A much greater importance. Harley would forever hold a greater importance.

They sat, cuddled together, Harley’s sleeping head resting on Peter’s shoulder, safely cradled in the embrace.

The horizon was brightened by the sun’s appearance in the early morning. It was nearing 6 o’clock when Harley finally awoke from his semi-peaceful slumber.

He yawned, taking in his surroundings, realizing he wasn’t alone. He immediately shied away from Peter, reprimanding himself for crossing boundaries like this.

Peter also backed away, showing he wasn’t a threat, and that he was quite keen on how the situation was. Harley managed to relax back into their hold, melting into the affection that Peter showed ever so freely.

Seconds turned into minutes, and then half an hour later they were still laying together, wide-awake, but silent nonetheless. Peter broke the silence, his mind having done nothing but wander and over-think for the past half-dozen hours.

“Did you want to talk about the nightmare?” he asked, still gently combing through Harley’s hair.

“It was just about Tennessee,” sighed the boy. “My family n’ all.”

“A nightmare about your family?” inquired Peter, his curiosity peeking through.

“Yeah.”

Silence overcame the room, the quiet regaining its rightful place in the atmosphere.

Although it should’ve been calming, or at the very least reassuring that Harley didn’t have to talk about the nightmare, all the quiet did was create an atmosphere where his thoughts were out of control.

It all flashed before his eyes.

All of it.

Harley took a deep breath, gathering up as much courage as he could. His sister had already gone inside the house a few minutes ago, overly excited about playing with her toys.

He pushed the wooden door open, stepping into the tiny entryway of his childhood home. He dropped his backpack on the floor, and went into the living room, where he knew his mother and step-father would be watching TV (and probably smoking.)

He planted himself in front of the television, and spoke with a convinced voice, looking into each of their eyes.

“I’m gay,” he announced to the couple.

It had taken weeks, months, even over a year for him to say it out loud after he’d figured it out. He’d known he wasn’t straight since he was a little kid, before Iron Man, before everything. He’d repressed it for so long. So incredibly long. Imagine spending over a decade lying to yourself and convincing yourself this is a phase, that all of this will just blow over in a week or two.

He had finally had the courage to say it out loud, to admit it to himself and to the people who’d raised him.

He knew he lived in Tennessee. All of this, everything about the LGTBQ+ community was entirely off-limits, a taboo subject and grounds for the highest form of punishment. But he couldn’t let his surroundings stop him from being himself. He’d done that for far too long already.

“What did you say, boy?” asked his step-father, standing up from the couch. He towered over Harley, daring him to repeat what he had said.

The teen was determined to keep his stance, no matter how terrifying it might seem. He had to make it clear that this wasn’t something he was able to compromise on.

“ I said , I’m gay,” he reiterated, glaring back at the man who stood above him.

“Get out of my house!” his step-father yelled, pointing towards the door. “You have no right to be here, son.”

Harley’s hardened expression almost crumbled, his entire world being turned around with three little words.

He turned to look at his mother, who had stayed seated throughout the debacle, and had only a saddened expression on her face.

“Oh honey,” she spoke softly, shaking her head. “We raised you better than this.”

His resolve fell, his lip started quivering as he realized that he was truly alone in his stance.

Not even his mother, the woman who brought him to life, cared about him enough to support him. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything illegal. He hadn’t committed a crime. He hadn’t even had a boyfriend, yet. He was just being. And that was somehow enough for everyone to leave him at the drop of a hat, because of what he was. Because of who he loved. 

He really thought he’d have her support. If for nothing else, then by familial obligation.

“I told you to leave!” screamed his father, throwing his pack of cigarettes on the wall, knocking down a family photo at the same time.

Harley looked back at his step-father, finding no trace of sympathy, regret or compassion. All he could see was anger. He wasn’t overly fond of staying to find out just what that anger might entail.

He left the house in a hurry, walking around the premises tens of times. He eventually got sick of the cold of nighttime and decided to take refuge in their garage.

He would’ve thought his parents would prevent him from doing so, but they didn’t give him a second thought after he left the house. 

His parents, in fact, did not think about him for the next few days (read: few weeks.)

On the first day, Harley went inside for breakfast and didn’t receive so much as a passing glance from either of them. His mother was solely focused on the newspaper, paying it much more attention than she ever had anything else. His step-father made coffee with so much detail it would’ve gotten him diagnosed with OCD.

These weeks were spent in solitude, apart from the weekly calls he received from Tony, which he always took in the suped-up garage the man had left in his wake. He also had a regular visitor that was always welcome, despite having previously done nothing but get on his nerves. Abby often came to his garage after her schooling, wanting some time with the brother that she never saw around anymore.

Harley let his sister do a few little tasks around the garage-lab hybrid, like sort nuts and bolts or screw together metal plates he’d need for a robot sooner or later. They chatted away whilst they worked, though Abby never asked about why Harley had moved into the garage. She was well aware that there had been a change in his lifestyle, but she never voiced her concerns or questions.

A month and a half into his new living situation, Harley received a knock on his door in the afternoon. He furrowed his brows as his gaze raised towards the door. He mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He knew it couldn’t be Abby, because she always came in through a window, or crawled in without knocking.

He cautiously opened the door, revealing his mother, looking rather nervous. She fiddled with her fingers, incapable of containing her anxieties about the forthcoming conversation.

“Hi, honey,” she greeted, meeting his eyes with a small smile.

Harley immediately became weary of what this could be about. She had been so hurt by who he was, she’d been expecting ‘more’ out of him. She’d been wanting a ‘normal’ son. “Mom,” he said in lieu of a proper greeting of his own.

“Can I come in?” she asked, looking behind him at the garage he’d made into a somewhat-cozy living space.

Harley only moved himself out of the doorframe to signal her permission to enter. She did so, scoping out the place she hadn’t seen very much of since its renovation by Stark.

She seemed satisfied with the home Harley had made for himself right outside their house, and started getting to the bottom of their discussion.

“Harley,” she began, clasping her hands together. “I love you, I really do. But do you have any idea what this could do to our family?”

The teen was absolutely floored. Harley had spent over a month living in a glorified shed and during all that time, when he berated himself for speaking up, she had been thinking about herself. Her own, selfish interests. 

‘What this could do to our family.’

Harley wouldn’t even be allowed to make a family of his own if they all got their way. 

“This could destroy our reputation,” she continued, grabbing onto Harley hands. “I want you to move back in with us, please. It’s not safe out here. But if you do, you’ll have to find a way to change… that.”

Harley slid his hands out of her grasp, appalled at what she was asking of him. She truly had no idea just how deep this went, just how hurtful her words were. She was just trying to protect herself, but she was destroying her firstborn at the very same time, with those very words.

He tried to process her words, figure out what she meant by changing him.

“Are you gonna send me away?” he asked, fear crossing his face.

His mother looked to the floor, pondering what to respond to the boy’s question.

“No,” she stated simply. Though her thought process seemed too long to have never been an option. She had considered it. They had considered it. Sending him away. Putting him in the hands of cruel, twisted people who use any and every method possible to try and ‘fix’ the people they’re all so afraid of.

He saw no hint of a lie in her face, even though she’d taken far longer than he would’ve liked to answer his question. He considered it longingly, but ultimately decided that if he wanted a chance at going to college, or having constant food on the table, and heating during the upcoming winter months, he’d have to move back in with them. It was a sacrifice he’d have to make.

If it meant that eventually he could get out of this town, then he’d make as many sacrifices as needed.

God he hated Tennessee.

He moved the little necessities he had in his garage back into the home he shared with his supposed family. He put away the clothes that he’d been alternating wearing, and tossed away the trash he’d accumulated in his peculiar home.

He’d barely finished settling in when he felt eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. He turned around to find his step-father staring right at him.

It was quite the sight, seeing as the man hadn’t actually acknowledged his existence in almost 7 weeks.

“Hey,” Harley said, going back to unpacking and getting his room set-up the way he liked.

His step-father wasted no more time in pleasantries. He grabbed the back of Harley’s collar, pushed the boy up against his bedroom wall, and spat his vile words into the teen’s ear.

“Your mother might have let you back in here, but that doesn’t mean I have to. You disgust me, boy.”

The man’s words were laced with venom, digging deeper and stinging harder with every overexaggerated intonation of repulsion.

He grabbed the back of Harley’s hair, pulled him away from the wall, just to smack him back down into it with full force.

Harley stood there, dazed, for the next few minutes. 

He understood now the price of moving back in. 

He wasn’t being sent away to conversion therapy; they were bringing it to him.

Every terrible, horrible, awful thing you could imagine being done to try and ‘turn him straight’ was attempted by Harley’s own step-father.

He was kicked, punched, slapped, burned, insulted, prayed at, yelled at. It was repetitive, it was grueling. He came home from school every day knowing his step-dad would take hours just to try and drill it into the boy’s head that this was nonsense. That he was an outsider.

He would be battered and bruised to an almost-unrecognizable point. He went from being lean to being worryingly skinny. He had no time to eat, no effort to do it either. It was a miracle his calls with Tony weren’t video calls, or he’d been discovered against his will.

And all these efforts were in vain. They did nothing to Harley except break his spirit, and dehumanize him to a point he didn’t think possible.

Harley knew none of this was morally okay, but he had to stay. He needed their support, he needed somewhere to be. He didn’t know where else to turn. He knew the entirety of Tennessee would string him up or burn him at the stake if they caught wind of the situation, so he was determined to stay out of sight, and subsequently out of mind. 

His mother was well aware of what was going on with her husband and son. She didn’t interfere. Never. Not once.

She knew he resorted to ‘unorthodox’ methods of helping the boy, but she didn’t ask questions. Questions were dangerous. They never led to good things in Tennessee.

Harley had always asked questions. He had asked why, and how, and what for. He tried to understand, he was a scientist after all.

He understood most things better than anyone his age. Than most people in general.

The one thing in his situation he couldn’t rationalize, however, was what exactly they were afraid of. That Harley was gay? That he would ‘hurt their reputation’? How would he even do that? How was that possibly his fault? How could they be blaming him?

None of this made sense in his brain.

Judging and torturing people for things they cannot control didn’t make sense in his brain.

It shouldn’t make sense in anyone’s brain.

It shouldn’t.

“Yeah,” Harley whispered as tears began to roll silently down his cheeks. “Just my family.”

Chapter Text

Peter didn’t want to pry. He had many a nightmare, and knew exactly how those could feel. Especially when you were brought back to the thick of it. It seemed like you were reliving it again, and you can’t change a single thing. You’re just destined to go through the pain again. The immense, overbearing, insane pain.

“I’m here for you, Harls,” he said, gently rubbing the boy’s arm in a comforting motion.

Harley tried not to lean into the touch, but the urge was stronger than him. He just wanted to feel loved. To feel cared for. And Peter always made his affection known so well. It was just what Harley needed when he felt so unwanted and rejected.

He originally had isolated himself because showing emotion is a sign of weakness. He’d always been told that.

He couldn’t show emotion when his dad treated him like less than human.

He couldn’t show emotion when his dad left him.

He couldn’t show emotion when his step-father was beating him senseless every night.

And so, he wouldn’t show emotion ever. Sadness was (according to his father and step-father) the only emotion. Anger was entirely acceptable to show, as was joy. But sadness made you human. It made you fragile. It proved you weren’t invincible. Men are supposed to be invincible.

That’s why he hid after his nightmare; because he knew that he’d be having emotions , and that was unacceptable.

Peter hadn’t seemed surprised by the sadness he was experiencing. He hadn’t seemed taken aback, or insulted that he was showing his sorrow. He just seemed to care.

He just seemed so Peter.

“If you ever want to talk about it, or about anything else,” he continued. “I’m here.”

Peter leaned forward and pressed a kiss into Harley’s hair, proving his previous point.

They went back to school that day, though it was a far better experience than the first day had been. Thank goodness that Flash had been suspended for longer than Peter.

Although they were given dirty looks from a goon or two, they didn’t have their precious leader to guide them, so no action was taken.

The day passed by rather quickly, a simple and painless experience. Midtown High might be just the distraction from his life that Harley needed to feel more at home in New York.

That night was one similar to those when Harley had just arrived at the Tower. This entailed a pleasant dinner with Tony and Pepper, a couple hours in the lab with Peter and Tony, then off to bed for some (un)restful sleep.

That night, however, was not exactly like all those that had preceded.

Harley had another nightmare.

Harley had the worst nightmare.

His mind, his subconscious, had brought him back to the day before he left for New York. Those few hours of absolute hell that he had endured and had decided that it wasn’t worth staying for.

Harley was pinned to his bedroom wall, where he didn’t even try to resist. He’d given up all hope of this horrid cycle ending. He had no strength left in him to fight it, either. He just let it happen, it was all he could bear.

He was kneed in the stomach repeatedly, shouted profanities at in a vain attempt to crush any last bits of conviction he had about his sexuality, and who he truly was.

“You’re sick!” his step-father yelled, landing another blow to the boy’s abdomen.

“You should be grateful we even let you stay around here,” the man spat, slapping Harley back and forth over a dozen times.

“You need to stop this foolishness and find a nice girl to bring to prom, son,” he threatened, adding insult to injury by sending the teen toppling to the floor.

Harley may not have had any fight left in him, but he still wasn’t dropping his stance. He couldn’t. He was born this way, and he would die this way. Whether everyone liked it or not.

“You can beat me up as much as you want. It won’t change the fact that I’m gay ,” he bit back from the floor, staring up at his step-father with the slightest smirk of satisfaction stretching across his lips.

The comment made Harley feel better, made him more secure in his position, like he had any ground to stand on. Sadly, his step-father didn’t enjoy it as much as he would’ve preferred.

As the boy slowly got up, breathing through the pain he’d seldom gotten used to, his step-dad left the room in a determined rush. Harley let relief wash over him that the daily abuse was finally over.

He shouldn’t have found comfort so soon.

His step-father came back in with a smirk of his own, holding a knife.

A whole-ass, shiny, recently-sharpened, chef-quality knife.

Harley’s eyes contained nothing but fear. He couldn’t tell what his step-dad’s intentions were. If it was murder. If it was just to scare him. If it would be to hurt him just bad enough for him to give into their insane beliefs.

He didn’t want to find out. He really didn’t. He wanted to run. To just leave and never come back. To not have to stay there for the next 3 minutes and squirm as his step-father decided his next steps.

Luck seemed to never be on his side, because he didn’t have the power to run. As much as he would’ve liked to, he was stuck to his spot. Frozen. It didn’t matter that his entire willpower was focused on just moving. It wouldn’t happen. His body was determined to stay there, like a fucking dear in headlights, and take it like a man.

He really wished he hadn’t been a man at that moment.

His step-father had no sympathy after what he had done.

He had stabbed his own step-son.

 His own child. Yeah, there was no blood relation, but he’d seen Harley grown up. He’d been there every step of the way. He hadn’t been a splendid father, but it did the job, and it was better than his asshole of a real dad.

And even with all that, he had no remorse for stabbing his son. He added another hole into the boy’s body, without so much as an ounce of regret.

The teen had let out an agonizing scream of pain when the blade had plunged into his skin. Or should he say through his skin.

He fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder, desperately trying to alleviate the pain. He thought about stopping the blood, applying pressure right? That’s what you’re supposed to do?

He pressed as hard as he could onto the wound, but that only seemed to fuel the suffering. He hissed in pain, catching his breath as best he knew how.

His step-father had left him to rot in his room, having absolutely no care for how this turned out.

Harley was through with this. He could take a beating, he could take the constant mental berating, but he wouldn’t be able to survive this. If his step-dad became more confident in his abilities to use a knife, who knew where he’d draw the line?

He had to get out of that situation, out of that house, out of that state, away from his family, away from everything that reminded him of just how much of an outcast he is.

He didn’t bother packing a bag, he didn’t have that many belongings anyway. He knew the torment was over for the night, so he decided sleeping might be for the best. Just to have as much energy as possible, and to give his shoulder some time to heal.

Harley left before dawn. He wandered around Rose Hill, walking the long, boring road to town. He made it to the bus stop, and before he knew what he was doing, he was on a 14 hour bus ride to the big fucking apple.

Harley couldn’t breathe anymore. His past had caught up to him, he was being beaten by his step-father all over again and he just couldn’t breathe . 

His breath became more shallow the longer he thought about it. There was this pressure on his chest that just wouldn’t go away, something pushing down on him, trying to get him to fall; to fail, after he’d come so far.

He stumbled out of his bed, leaning onto the room’s walls to hold him up as he moved towards the door. He made it into the hallway and kept holding onto the walls to reach the elevator. He couldn’t tell if he’d be able to make it to his destination, but he was determined to keep going as long as he could.

Harley had considered going to Tony, but how would he explain this? How could he get any sort of help from the man without giving him ample proof that he was a useless burden?

He managed to croak out one word that allowed FRIDAY to start moving the lift.

He was hyperventilating at this point, incapable of bringing oxygen to his lungs. Harley scampered through the common floor, letting his muscle memory take him to his best friend’s room.

He knocked incessantly on the door, feeling his consciousness slipping from his grasp, until it finally opened.

Peter yawned as he opened the door, before taking in the full extent of the situation.

He frantically invited Harley into his room, knowing he didn’t have much time before the latter passed out.

“Can I touch you?” he asked quickly, his hands hovering over Harley’s chest, not daring to touch him until he was 100% sure it was okay.

Harley nodded hastily, trusting the other teen more than he trusted himself in that moment.

Peter placed Harley’s hand on top of his chest and told him to follow along to his breathing. It took a little longer than Peter would’ve liked, but they eventually got the hang of it and slowed Harley’s breathing.

His normal rhythm didn’t last long, as he erupted in tears.

He felt ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He didn’t care about being a man, he just wanted to feel anything but this.

Peter hugged him and tugged him along to his bathroom, getting a glass of water filled. Harley’s sobs retched through the small ensuite, his pain becoming unbearable.

Peter held him tightly, they slid to the floor of the bathroom together, still in their embrace. He shushed his best friend reassuringly, whispering kindnesses to him to help the only way he knew how.

Harley had finally cracked. It had taken about a week since he’d left Tennessee for him to actually process what had happened. He had been kicked out because he was gay. His step-father had abused him for months to try and change who he fundamentally was. His mom hadn’t done a single thing, she might not have been the principal abuser, but she was a silent witness who didn’t try a single thing to stop it.

Harley had lost his family. All because of something he couldn’t choose.

All because of love.

How ironic.

It took around an hour for Harley to quiet down completely. He had mostly calmed down after 15 minutes or so, but he still was brought back to violent tears whenever his mind opened up a new door he’d forgotten about. Peter didn’t leave his side. Through the entire breakdown, he was right there; holding him close, offering him water, he even brought one of his sweaters in case Harley got cold. He never pressured the boy into talking about it, he knew how vital it was to go at his pace. This was obviously a very sensitive topic, and Peter wouldn’t push him into any conversation that would make him this vulnerable until he was ready to face the music.

Harley, however, knew this conversation had to take place. The sooner the better, because it meant Peter wouldn’t have an eternity to imagine crazy scenarios that could cause this kind of intense emotional reaction. Although he wanted to be truthful with Peter, he couldn’t tell him everything. He really liked the other boy, but it was too soon to share every horrible thing about his life in Tennessee just yet. Maybe eventually they’d get close enough for the conversation to flow smoothly, but until then he’d give him the minimum and it would suffice.

He took a deep breath, sniffled one last time, and started the discussion.

“My step-dad,” he started, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. “He didn’t take it well when I came out.”

Peter had tensed up when Harley began speaking, he obviously wasn’t expecting to be having this conversation right now either, but hey; Harley’s nothing if not a man of mystery.

“Didn’t take it well?” Peter echoed, asking for clarification on the implications.

“He used to slap me here n’ there, nothing big.”

“Harley..”

“Just when I would do something ‘gay,’ y’know cause then I deserved it.”

“What kind of ‘gay things’?” he asked, offended at the stereotypes he knew were forthcoming.

“Painting my nails, singing certain songs, those kinda’ things,” Harley answered, unconsciously rubbing his shoulder.

Peter was outraged, he had never faced this sort of discrimination when he had come out to his friends and family. They’d all congratulated him (May, Ned), or made jokes (MJ, also Ned). He knew the south was different, but was it really so different that they would slap kids for being gay? It depended on the family, he assumed.

Harley didn’t elaborate any further, he’d shared what he had to, and now Peter might lay off his back about all of this. This nightmare, the last, everything. He could have peace about it, now. Until it’d happen again, at which point he’d have to figure out a new strategy. But that was all a problem for future Harley. Present Harley was already having a tough time as it is, no need to add more to his plate.

They eventually moved from the bathroom back into the bedroom. It had taken a little convincing from Peter, but Harley had agreed to stay the night in his room. He wasn’t overly eager about going back to his room so far away from Peter’s care and safety. It helped that he was absolutely drained past exhaustion.

They had barely settled into the bed and Harley was already off to sleep. The emotional and psychological toll that the nightmare had stirred up was more than enough reason for him to fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Peter arranged the blanket over him in a more proper way, fixed his head on the pillow and adjusted his own pillows.

He made sort of a chair for himself, pillows on either side of him to hold him up on the bed. He didn’t need to lay flat, considering he had absolutely zero intentions of falling asleep.

If Harley was having nightmares so bad that they induced panic attacks followed by breakdowns, then he was definitely not running the risk of being asleep if and when that happened again.

There were some things Peter could accept and let slide by, but Harley being in pain, suffering alone in the dark of night; yeah, that wasn’t happening.

So, for the second time in as many nights, Peter didn’t sleep. He didn’t get a single second of shut-eye and he did it gladly. He would make his sacrifices and do them with grace. He would do whatever’s necessary to protect Harley, to help him.

He’d do that now,

he’d do that forever.

Tony woke up a little earlier than usual, his body detecting an anxiety in the air that his mind hadn’t yet caught. FRIDAY immediately spoke, not allowing him to fully rid himself of the slumber still lingering.

“ Good morning, boss. As per protocol, I am to inform you of any happenings with Mr. Keener,” the AI began.

Tony’s interest was piqued, and he listened with increasing curiosity.

“ Mr. Keener was in distress from 3:19am to 4:32am,” she added, succeeding at worrying Tony to new heights.

“Fri, why didn’t you tell me that then? ” he asked pointedly, getting up from bed and rushing to the door.

“ Mr. Keener received help within 15 minutes; my protocols do not require me to alert you when the situation is handled in a timely manner,” the voice responded, simply stating facts.

Tony cursed himself for making his AI this smart; he’d have rather known what was going on.

He made his way to Harley’s room and opened the door gently, preparing himself to talk it out with the boy. His stress heightened when he was met with an empty room. His brows furrowed quizzically. He turned around and headed towards the kitchen, presuming the teen might’ve made breakfast for himself, or moved to the living room for a change of scene.

Once again, he came up empty handed. Harley wasn’t in the penthouse.

Before entirely panicking, he thought to himself that FRIDAY would’ve included him running away in Harleys’ ‘happenings.’ That was his next logical step.

“Fri, where’s the kid?” he said, trying not to let his ever growing worry show.

“ Mr. Keener is located on the 86th floor.”

86th floor? The common floor?

What the hell was the kid doing on the common floor? Who could he possibly be trying to see on the-

Of course.

Of fucking course.

He should’ve tried Peter’s room first. FRIDAY had said that someone had helped Harley with his ‘distress.’ The kid wouldn’t have gone to anyone but Peter.

They’d gotten extremely close over the last week, it was obviously an incredible bond. Tony really should’ve assumed that’s where he would be.

He walked into the elevator and was brought down to the common floor. He went to step off the lift, but he stopped himself.

Harley had already had help. He hadn’t gone to him, he had gone to Peter. If he wanted to talk about it with him, he’d have already done it, or he would do it in the upcoming hours.

He trusted the kid. He did.

So, he trusted that Harley had gotten the help he needed.

He trusted Peter, too. Peter knew what to do.

They were both fine.

They were together, they had each other’s backs.

Tony asked FRIDAY to bring him back up to the penthouse. He got back into bed, and soaked up the warmth of his covers.

They were fine.

He fell asleep again.

Chapter Text

Breakfast was nice.

As nice as it could be with 2 supersoldiers, 2 trained assassins, a renowned biochemist, an ex-pararescue, a colonel, a witch, a CEO, a billionaire, a superhero teenager, and Harley; boy-wonder from Tennessee.

Tony had convinced Pepper to have breakfast on the common floor with everyone else that morning, telling her it was for bonding purposes, since she barely ever saw the rest of the Avengers. His excuse was semi-truthful, but he had also wanted to be closer to Harley. After the panic attack he had suffered the night prior, he thought it best to keep an eye on him and make sure he had all the support he needed (father-mode: engaged.)

Peter and Harley had arrived last at breakfast. Though there wasn’t a spread like Peter had prepared the other day, there was likely very little food left; especially if Steve and Bucky had already eaten, on top of everyone else. Damn those supersoldiers and their insane metabolisms.

Peter didn’t say much during the meal. He had grabbed a glass of orange juice and a slice of toast, then sat down at the dining room table, where the others were gathered.

He kept glancing over his shoulder at Harley, who was still deciding on his breakfast. He seemed overly nervous about what to choose. He kept making aborted moves towards different items. He had almost picked up a banana, before changing his mind and roughly pulling his arm back.

He was stressed. About breakfast?

Peter got up from his seat, excusing himself from the table, and stopped near Harley.

“Hey, Harls-” Peter started, placing a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Harley didn’t let the other boy finish his sentence before he was on the other side of the kitchen. He had flinched away from the touch and had winced when Peter started speaking.

What Peter had once taken for a nervous tick, the wincing, had now been obviously revealed as a reflex he gained from what his step-father must’ve done to him. He wasn’t stressed, he was afraid.

Peter’s observational skills allowed him to pick up traits in Harley he hadn’t seen before, or that he had dismissed entirely.

Like the way the boy would walk in the very middle of a hallway, never near the walls. Or, how he wouldn’t keep eye contact with many adults, if any. He seemed fine with looking at Tony, or Pepper, but the teachers at school weren’t the same. Also, he noticed how Harley would flinch whenever other kids at school would raise their hands in class. It wasn’t aggressive, or obvious, but when you knew what to look for, you could tell it was a sign of pain.

Peter absolutely hated noticing these things. Seeing just how badly it had hurt Harley before. When he’d told him about his step-father, it had been very abstract. Something from his past, a memory, nothing more. But these memories held power, now. They still affected Harley in the worst way. It seemed an intense reaction for just a few slaps ‘here n’ there,’ but people have different ways to cope, maybe Harley’s was extreme by nature. Peter didn’t know much, and he didn’t care to know. There was more that he wasn’t privy to, but secrets make the world go ‘round. He wasn’t without his own secrets, so Harley could keep his.

Harley was such a nice kid. He was bright, confident, and kind. Peter couldn’t believe what a catch he was, and that he had been abused by his step-father. It didn’t make sense in his mind.

Where had he learned to be so caring? To be so sweet?

Some might say that the word ‘abuse’ was too severe for him being slapped a few times; the equivalent to a spanking, like growing up in the 70s and 80s. Except this wasn’t discipline, this was assimilation. His step-father was trying to change him, not punish him for misbehaving, or staying out too late, or getting drunk with his friends. This was abuse of power, his power as a father, his physical strength, too.

Peter spent the entire day staring at Harley. Something he would normally enjoy, maybe even daydream during. That would’ve been a normal situation, though. This wasn’t a normal day.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked him after lunch, seeing her friend entirely fixated on the boy seated only a couple feet from them.

Peter didn’t answer, he had barely even heard Wanda over his racing thoughts.

“Peter.”

Nothing.

“ Peter.”

“Hm?” he finally responded, still not taking his eyes off Harley, who was watching the living room TV, paying it his entire attention.

“Are you okay? You’ve barely said a word all day, and you can’t stop staring at Harley,” Wanda said, worried that this might be related to the fight that had taken place just a few days ago.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“Fine, huh. Let’s see about that,” Wanda smirked to herself.

She wrapped a nearby book in her red glow and started floating it towards Peter. It gained speed and momentum, and eventually knocked right into the boy. He didn’t so much as flinch. If he had been fine he would’ve caught it, or at least looked in its direction to determine whether it was a true threat.

Something was up with the boys, and Wanda was nothing if not a curious person. She didn’t want to read their minds, having been taught that doing so without consent is unacceptable. She’d have to find another way to figure it out, a normal way.

“What’s up with the two of you?” she asked, trying to regain Peter’s attention.

“Who? Oh, me and Harls, right. Nothing’s up,” he said, speaking slightly faster than normal. Though he already spoke at quite a fast pace regularly, this was a little more panicked, more fraught.

“You’re nervous,” Wanda stated, reading his body language. (Not his mind!)

“I’m worried,” Peter corrected, fiddling mindlessly with the TV remote.

Wanda looked back and forth between the boys, assessing the sight before her. Harley, practically ignoring everyone all day, except Peter. And Peter, being too distracted by Harley to notice anyone all day. They were obsessed with each other.

Wait.

They were obsessed with each other.

The second it clicked in Wanda’s mind, she started dragging Peter out of the living room.

“We’ll be right back!” she yelled over her shoulder to Harley, as she hauled Peter to the kitchen.

“Wanda- What are you doing?” he asked, being forced to look away from his crush and at his friend.

“You like Harley,” she responded, a large smile plastering itself over her face.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.”

“идиот. I meant more than friends,” she specified, rolling her eyes.

“What? Harley is just a friend, really, we’re- we’re just.. friends,” Peter frantically answered, looking back at the boy in question in the adjacent room.

“You look at him like he’s much more than a friend, Peter.”

“He’s not,” the teen assured. “No matter how much I want him to be,” he murmured through a sigh.

Apparently, he hadn’t been quiet enough.

“I knew it!” Wanda exclaimed. “You two are adorable together.”

“We’re not together!” Peter reprimanded. “Please, can we just go back? He’ll wonder why we’re taking so long.”

“Sure,” Wanda agreed, the satisfied grin never leaving her face. “Let’s go get your boyfriend.”

“I hate you,” Peter replied, stomping off to the living room.

Peter and Harley spent the rest of the afternoon in the lab with Tony. As opposed to the last time they were here, Tony wasn’t the one too distracted to work.

Peter was trying so hard to focus, but his thoughts couldn’t process equations as well as usual. It was too full with scenarios of Harley being hit by his parents.

He was reassured, though, that his friend was out of that situation. And Peter swore to himself that he would never let him go back there.

Harley was upgrading the robot he’d spent hours making with Peter over the course of the last week. He focused on the work, not giving himself any time to think about anything else.

He soldered the finishing touches on the robot’s body, completing the frame. Peter, on the other hand, had been trying to start coding for the little guy. He was certainly more of a chemistry and biology kind of person, but Ned had been teaching him the basics and he wanted to test his skills on something real, rather than just coding for the theoretics.

Time didn’t fly by, per se, but it didn’t drag on forever, either. It was just a quiet afternoon. The autumn leaves outside clouded the ground of lush grass, replacing it with touches of saffron, golden yellow, and red. The wind blew peacefully, bringing in breezes from the sea, a freshness that would never be matched by anything artificial.

Harley took a moment to appreciate the view of the seasons changing. The windows of the lab allowed him this luxury that he never had in the South. The calm this scene brought was overwhelming. He’d been on edge since his arrival, but he finally had time to rest, watching the leaves fall, and the pumpkins grow.

He brought his attention back to the task at hand, finalizing his robot. He reached towards a spot on the workbench, coming up empty-handed. He looked to Peter, sitting on the bench next to him, working on his computer; definitely not hiding a wrench.

He turned back around and was met with Tony, standing tall, mere inches away from Harley, holding the wrench up, next to his head.

Harley instinctively flinched back, rather aggressively. All he could think of when seeing Tony that way was how his step-father had held the knife in the exact same stance.

He caught his breath, steadying himself on the desk, reminding himself that he was in New York. Reminding himself that it was over. It was supposed to be over.

Tony had backed away when Harley first jumped out of his skin, trying not to aggravate the situation any further. He sent a questioning look to Peter, who’d also been surprised by the reaction.

“Are you okay, Harls?” the teen asked, closing his laptop.

“Yeah- Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Harley replied, picking the wrench that had been discarded on the desk.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Peter reassured, trying to understand how ‘just a few slaps’ might lead to such a recoil. “We just want to help.”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, glaring daggers around the room. He promptly continued on with his task, denying the existence of his unintended outburst.

Tony walked out of the elevator, stepping into the penthouse at around 5pm, freshening up for dinner. He had left the boys to themselves after what had occurred, hoping they might be better suited to figure it out together, rather than having an adult who ‘just doesn’t get it.’

He walked towards the hallway, already running his hands through his hair in an attempt to tame it. He abruptly stopped, sighed, and went over to the kitchen.

His two favorite people were sitting at the kitchen table, patiently waiting for his arrival. Just waiting for him to show up and bombard him with questions that he either wouldn’t be able to answer, or simply wouldn’t want to.

“What can I do for you, ladies?” he asked the couple of SHIELD agents, taking a seat opposite them.

“What does Harley have panic attacks about?” Natasha asked, not bothering with a greeting.

Tony sighed heavily, rubbing his temples before responding. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

That was a little harsh, but Tony wanted to know. He needed to know why Natasha was so insistent on kicking Harley out of here. Trust is one thing, but she didn’t even give the teen a chance to earn her trust. She’d never acted this way with Peter, why was this time so different?

The girls exchanged a look, and turned back to stare Tony down, imposing their presence and radiating power. “Background checks are protocol, you know that,” Maria responded, seeming as impervious as ever.

“Panic attacks were in his ‘background’? Is that what you want me to believe, Hill?” Tony snapped.

“We had FRIDAY tell us whenever major events happen with Harley. As a precaution, if you will,” Nat offered, biting into an apple she’d taken from the fruit basket on the table.

“Hacking into my AI is a background check, now? Great to know. Really, it’s wonderful.”

“This isn’t about you, Tony,” Maria said, getting them back on track. “Panic attacks can mean a myriad of things, we’re trying to figure out where they came from.”

Tony clicked his tongue, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, the kid had a panic attack. I wasn’t there, he didn’t come to me. I don’t know what they’re about. I’m not asking, and you two,” he said, pointing threateningly towards them. “Are not asking him, either. Harley has a right to privacy, and the panic attacks aren’t even his fault. You’re going to blame him for something that makes him vulnerable?”

“We’re not blaming him, we’re collecting data. He’s been suspicious since day 1, I’m not letting him get away with whatever scheme he’s planning,” promised Natasha.

Natasha had always had a hard time trusting people. She had trusted her ‘father,’ and he’d sent her to the Red Room. She had trusted that the Accords would be in the best interest of everyone, and they ended up almost breaking the only family she had left. You would’ve thought that she’d tolerate children more, because they’re less threatening, right? She was a child, and an assassin. No one was ever off limits. Some people were purely cruel, without any intent of anything else. Her doubts seemed justified to her, and Maria would never go against her girlfriend; at least not when she had semi-reasonable doubts.

“We’re not here to step on your toes, this is a matter of security. All we want is answers,” Maria reiterated, the only person who was actively bringing up the main topic of discussion.

“Security. Right.” Tony heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes at the very official sounding reason for their constant intervention in him and his kid’s life. “I don’t want either of you sniffing around Harley anymore. You’re not doing this with anyone’s best interest in mind.”

Natasha just kept on eating her apple, clearly not planning on following Tony’s orders. He didn’t have any authority over her, anyway. “The only thing I have in mind is keeping everyone safe. You don’t know why the kid’s having panic attacks?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Great,” she said, getting up from her seat at the table. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Stark.”

With that, she threw the apple across the room. It flew through the air and landed right in the trash can. Natasha never missed. Not physically, and certainly not when it came to her suspicions. She took her leave, stepping into the elevator and disappearing into the lower levels of the Tower.

Maria stayed a little while longer, observing Tony. “You really think he’s just here because he needs your help? That doesn’t seem convenient to you in the slightest?” she asked, putting her hands together on the table.

“He was kicked out. I’ve always said he could come here. It’s not convenient, it’s what I’ve always said was available.”

Maria didn’t doubt what Tony was saying. He was (mostly) an honest man, and he had only love for the boy. Maybe he’d be blinded by that, but it truly seemed like Harley was a kind person who’d been through hell.

“‘Tasha probably won’t let up on this. You know how she gets about safety and backstabbing. I’ll try talking to her, though. Maybe she’ll trust me enough to cool it.”

Tony was grateful for her offer. He knew Natasha wasn’t one to throw away her intuitions at a moment’s notice, but Maria was undoubtedly his best bet at making this a safe space for Harley.

Natasha paced around her bedroom, waiting for FRIDAY’s research to complete. Information popped up here and there, illuminating her room in a blue tint every now and again, showcasing the bits of a stranger’s life she was piecing together. The search engine stopped, its task finished, and the AI dimmed the lights, blowing up the results on one of the room’s walls.

“ Graham Richardson, 56. Married to Jennifer Keener since 2007, adoptive father of Harley Keener and Abigail Keener since 2007. Several infraction charges; speeding and drinking in public,” FRIDAY’s voice read, stating the fruit of her research. “ Multiple misdemeanor charges; minor assault, twice, drunk driving, indecent exposure, vandalism, and petty theft.”

Natasha stopped her pacing to stare at the wall that was glowing with new information. She smiled to herself, knowing there was undoubtedly something off about the new high-schooler Tony kept around. She asked the AI to stop the projection, and seated herself at the computer in her room. She swivelled around in her chair, victory making her giddy. She stopped herself, scolding herself for enjoying this moment when there was very clearly their security at stake.

“He’s the son of a criminal. I knew it.”

Chapter Text

The smell of turkey lingered in the air, wafting from room to room across the common floor, tempting anyone who got so much as a whiff. The scent was welcoming, a hint at the meal that was to come, and inevitably, the discussions and fights that would take place at the dinner table. Manners did exist in the Tower, however, they weren’t always enforced. Actually, they were never enforced, they were merely suggested.

The simple china was laid out on the table, awaiting the dozen or so guests that would take their seats and enjoy being a family for a few minutes. Food always seemed to bring people together. It was a way to connect people from many different cultures, from all around the world. It’s a vital aspect of who we are, and a delicious one at that.

Memories were engraved in cuisine. That first time they had ice cream, and the way it dripped all around the cone, more of it falling to the floor than into their mouth. How picky they were when they were faced with any green vegetable, refusing to even taste it because of how ‘icky’ it looked. The sweetness of their first candy, the bitterness of their first citrus fruit. Memories hold more value than we attribute to them at first glance.

Harley’s memory attached turkey and mashed potatoes to his mother and step-father’s wedding reception. A fond memory, truly. He was 6 years old, dancing in the middle of the room without a single care in the world. His mom was happy, and she looked beautiful in her white dress. His step-dad had always been nice to him, and he looked thrilled, too. The food had been amazing, and it would forever remain in his mind that he had been served this meal.

It no longer held its fondness, 11 years later. Harley only held contempt for that day, now. If he could go back, he would stop his mother from marrying that horrid man. He would convince her that they were better off on their own, that they didn’t need another man in the house, that he could be everything she needed. Everything she wanted.

Except he wasn’t. He was a disappointment to her. And he’d be reminded of that fact every single time he ate turkey. Like tonight.

Harley was lost in thought for most of the meal, opting to stare at his plate and focus on right now, instead of the wedding night. He finished his plate and was dragged to Peter’s room by the boy himself. They walked in large steps, not sparing a single second for comfort or questions. Peter had a destination in mind and he wouldn’t let anything slow him down from tugging his friend along with him.

He closed the door behind them, announcing the seriousness of the topic ahead. Peter always preferred to keep the door open, saying it allowed his enhanced hearing to reach the elevator this way. The boy faced Harley, took a deep breath, and did his best to stop his fidgeting.

“What really happened with your step-dad?” he asked.

Harley had assumed a question of the sort would arise after his reaction to Tony’s proximity, and wrench wielding. Despite Peter’s happy-go-lucky attitude, it wasn’t surprising that he’d bring this up. It was a little sooner than he’d have liked, but Peter wouldn’t let this marinate for too long, knowing his best bet would be to act fast.

Harley simply stared blankly back at Peter, not wanting to get to the tedium of this conversation.

“Come on, Harley, talk to me!” Peter said a little louder, waving his arms, his voice wavering with concern. “You’re always flinching, you won’t walk near walls, these are obvious signs of abuse, Harls, I just-”

Peter cut himself off.

He had answered his own fucking question.

Obvious signs of abuse.

Peter made intense eye contact with the other boy, his own eyes prickling in empathy. His mouth hung, slightly agape. It was just wide enough to convey how saddened he was by this news, not wide enough to be mocking. It was truly a hurtful piece of information that he’d just given himself.

How hadn’t he noticed sooner?

Why did he have to wait for Harley to set him on this path to realize this?

“How long has this been going on, Harley?” he inquired, his lip quivering as he took a step towards the other teen.

Harley stood there. Looking back at Peter. Entirely expressionless, just going through the motions. Peter experienced the 5 stages of grief in a mere minute over this secret spilling. Harley, however, hadn’t had an emotion in months, years even. He didn’t want to answer. Questions always led to answers, answers had consequences. Consequences affected him, even after the fact. Through panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks. He didn’t want to have consequences. He’d already had enough.

So, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t show anything, nor on his face, nor in his body language.

“You have to say something, please,” Peter implored. All he wanted was his best friend to talk about it, to work through this. They could get past this, together. “How bad was it? I know it was worse than a few slaps, so- so, you can tell me.”

Peter swallowed harshly, as he delivered the last line. He had to seem strong, he had to seem unaffected.

Why the hell was he so affected by this? He’s seen people in burning buildings before. He’s saved people from drowning. He’s stopped robbery after robbery, taking down armed gunmen without so much as a second thought. But one, single boy being hurt by his step-father proved too much to bear without shedding tears.

Except this wasn’t just any boy, this was Harley. Someone he barely knew, someone he’d met a week ago, if that. Half of that was true. They’d met a week ago, true. But Peter knew Harley very well. It was sort of freakish how well they got along. A house on fire, really. A friendship that keeps burning, growing brighter and stronger with every passing second. 

Harley kept his straight face. He had tuned Peter out before the boy had even finished saying ‘abuse.’ He looked asinine standing there, saying nothing. There was nothing else for him to do other than shut himself down.

He blinked back into reality, looked Peter up and down once, and pushed past the boy out of the room. He didn’t stop walking until he was nestled in the obscurity of a closed elevator cabin. When the lift stopped at the penthouse, he darted for his room. Those four walls he’d spent far too much time in to not call his own. He took several steadying breaths, bringing even just an iota of calm to him would be an immense relief. He was filled with a bustling anxiety, a fear that he couldn’t shake; his biggest secret had been revealed, and who knew what would happen now that someone knew?

Peter didn’t go after Harley. He knew he couldn’t be of help if he was crumbling from the inside out over this. How could Harley be fine?

He wasn’t, Peter knew that much. He preferred to give the other teen space, rather than encroach on his time and make him feel unheard or uncomfortable. He was an adamant believer that healthy communication and boundaries were essential to long-lasting relationships. (He’d probably gotten that from a day-time show that played all the time at the hospital, where Peter spent his childhood waiting for May to finish her shifts.)

He spent the next few hours collecting himself. He thought about his next steps, what he could do to ease Harley into this conversation, into opening up. He didn’t want to pressure him, but he needed to make it clear that he was available and that he wasn’t going away any time soon. A gentle reminder that Harley’s stuck with him forever.

He opted to bring Harley snacks and a bottle of water. The essentials. Things he would undoubtedly need if he planned on avoiding living his life for the foreseeable future. He knocked on the door, not really expecting a response, but hoping, nonetheless.

As predicted, he didn’t get an answer. Peter, polite boy-scout that he is, announced himself prior to entering. He dropped off the snacks and bottle of water on the nightstand that resided next to the bed Harley was laying on.

“Did you want to talk?” he prompted. The quiet Peter had broken settled back in, finding its rightful place in the gloom that surrounded Harley at the moment.

Peter took the hint and left the room, which was now laden with snacks and supplies. More than necessary for a normal teenager, surely, but Peter had a faster metabolism than most, and he didn’t really know what a regular kid would eat, so he’d rather play it safe, than starve the boy he liked.

God, why wouldn’t Harley just talk about it?

Tony heard someone pacing in the hallway next to his office. Pepper was never one to show her anxiousness this way, so he knew it had to be the one and only Spider-Kid.

“Hey Pete?” he called towards the door, not bothering raising his voice. “Can you come in here real quick?”

The high-schooler came into the room, sporting an abashed look. Being quiet was supposed to be one of his super powers, but that didn’t seem to be the case at the moment. He shuffled into the office, looking down.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” he greeted, not unkindly.

Tony turned around to face the boy, seeing him look so shy. He seemed so tiny, a measly little addition to the overcrowded room, filled to the brim with contracts, NDAs, patents, and more.

“What happened back in the lab, with Harley?” Tony asked, setting his pen aside and turning his body fully towards Peter.

“Oh, um- I don’t really- I don’t know,” the boy stuttered, unsure of how to answer without completely betraying his crush’s trust. It wasn’t a topic he was exactly a fan of. There wasn’t much Peter knew, and the little he did know seemed to make Harley catatonic instantly. 

Tony didn’t find the answer all that enthusing. Peter was tripping over his words, failing at forming a single sentence. It was the boy’s innate ability to speak for hours on end without a break for air, and he couldn’t even string together enough words to convince Tony that Harley was fine.

“You don’t know?” Tony inquired incredulously. “You two are practically conjoined twins, and you have no clue as to what might’ve made him jump back when I handed him a wrench?”

Peter’s expression shifted from embarrassment to guilt. He wanted to tell Tony the truth, but he barely had it himself. It would be wrong, on a hundred levels, for him to tell Tony what little he knew.

“I don’t, I’m sorry Mr. Stark.”

The billionaire looked Peter up and down, assessing the answer he’d given. It would’ve been futile to push him into answering. Peter was an honest kid, if he said he didn’t know, then he truly did not know.

“If he’s hurting, you tell me, alright?”

“Will do, Mr. Stark,” Peter promised, crossing his fingers behind his back (both as a sign of lie, and also to prevent his fingers from drumming against his thigh any more than they already had.)

Tony seemed satisfied and allowed Peter to go. The boy left the room and steadied himself on the wall right after leaving. He begrudged Tony for his ignorance. They didn’t lie when they said ignorance is bliss. Peter took a deep breath, processing the fact that he had just outright lied to Tony fucking Stark.

An incessant pounding on the door woke Harley up from his nap.

He turned around to face the clock that sat on his nightstand. 8:12pm.

It wasn’t the next morning, and this wasn’t an adorable knock that Parker had the habit of doing whenever he entered a room. This was pounding , heavy and impatient. 

Harley dragged himself out of bed to open the door. It was obvious this noise wouldn’t be going away anytime soon unless it was asked. He turned the knob and was quite surprised by the person on the other side.

“Hey kid,” she said. “You got time for some questions? When the Director of SHIELD asks, usually you have to say yes, but I thought I’d ask.”

“I thought the Director of SHIELD was Nick Fury,” the teen responded, still trying to catch up to the conversation.

“Deputy Director, then. Come on, Maria had some stuff she wanted to talk to you about.”

Harley would’ve asked a few more follow up questions, but Natasha was already ways away at the end of the corridor, entering the elevator. He sprinted to catch the lift, and was taken down over twenty floors. Harley had never visited lower levels, choosing to remain in the upper floors where the Avengers had free reign. It was weird being in the bottom section.

Everything looked the same. The same style, the same colors. It was all virtually identical, apart from the quiet. These floors were eerily quiet. A peace that held nothing peaceful about it. It was calm, but unsettlingly so. Harley didn’t particularly enjoy the atmosphere, but he was invited into a room that didn’t look like any he’d seen on the private floors. It helped a little to be somewhere new, instead of somewhere old, with an entirely different feeling creeping about.

A metal table, and a chair on either side. Simple decor, Harley had to admit. It was a reserved room, not quite big enough for more than 4 people without being cramped in like a pack of sardines.

Natasha took one of the seats, after having turned on the fluorescent lightbulb that hung above the bare table. Harley occupied the other chair, trying to make himself comfortable in the cold room. It was as though the room had been stripped of any individuality it might’ve once had. Harley thought he fit in quite well, if that were the case.

“So,” Natasha began, leaning forward in her seat, placing her elbows on the table. “Harley Keener, right?”

“Yeah,” Harley said, slightly confused. He might not have known the Avengers all that long, but he knew enough to say that Natasha was not Maria, and she was also not the Deputy Director of SHIELD. “Aren’t we waitin’ on the Director?”

“She won’t mind if I start early, don’t worry,” Nat reassured, brushing the question off. “Why did you come here, Harley?”

A flash of panic went through Harley’s body. It was gone as soon as it had arrived, but it had passed. Every hair on his body was raised. His heart gained speed, and his palms got warmer, his breathing erratic.

“Thought I told y’all last week; wanted to pay Tony a visit”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the boy, getting even closer to the table. “I remember. But that was a lie. Tony told me you were kicked out.”

Oh fuck. She knew he was lying. She was testing him. He failed. He failed . He was a failure. A disappointment. He was-

He stood up abruptly, holding onto the table to stop himself from doubling over. “I wasn’t-”

“Sit down,” Natasha commanded, laying back in her chair. “Why were you kicked out, Harley?”

Harley didn’t usually have trouble lying, or getting himself out of certain sticky situations. There was only one situation that he was incapable of leaving, and after a few months he decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and look how great that turned out.

Natasha was scary. She wasn’t just scary, though, she was terrifying. She seemed like a badass, (and trust me, she is) but she used this tone of voice with Harley before. It was kind, nurturing, even maternal. There was nothing, not a single thing, that might’ve made Harley think that he’d be interrogated by her at any point in his life.

It would’ve been an honor, had he not been fearing for his life. Because yes, Natasha was that scary that you feared for your life when merely being interrogated.

“I was just kicked out, okay?” he stammered, trying to keep any scrap of secrecy that he could.

“No one kicks out their child for no reason,” she leveled, staring him straight in the soul.

“They didn’t love me. What do you want me to say?” he exclaimed, getting frustrated and flustered.

He tried to find something in the room to bring his attention to, but it was so naked, so plain. There was positively nothing that could tear his mind away from the terror that Romanoff made herself out to be.

“How long have you had panic attacks?” she questioned, bringing her hands together on the table, much like her girlfriend had earlier that day when conversing with Tony.

Harley became increasingly aware that if Maria Hill had called this meeting (read: interrogation), then both of them together would be a force to be reckoned with. Not that Natasha wasn’t already far more intense than he’d previously anticipated.

“A while. How do you know about the panic attack?” he asked, becoming progressively more frightened as she proved just how much knowledge she’d uncovered, and how recent it all was.

“How about I ask the questions and you cut the bullshit? How long?”

“Under a year. 7 months, maybe? I really don’t- I don’t know.”

His agitated state only increased as she quizzed him on his past. He refused to talk about being kicked out. He swore up and down that they had just stopped loving him, and had decided he wasn’t worth it anymore overnight.

Nat didn’t buy it.

She should have.

It was mostly true.

“I’ve told you over twenty times now! I don’t know why I was kicked out!” He was imploring for her to finish her questioning. It was horrendous. He was repeating himself time and time again, and it was never enough, never convincing.

Natasha was walking around the table, circling in on him. She made her presence known, and she made herself feared. It gave her power, it drove her.

The boy was at wit’s end. He was floored by her insistence and how she kept pushing, and digging, and hacking at him with words in a language he presumed to be Russian.

“What do you want from me?” he finally asked, fighting back the urge to sob in despair.

Natasha sent him a dirty look, but didn’t have time to answer.

The door swung open, revealing none other than Maria Hill herself.

Harley exhaled shakily, preparing himself for the wrath this duo would undoubtedly releash on him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, livid.

“He’s the son of a criminal, what else was I supposed to do? Let him walk around like he’s not plotting our collective demise?” Natasha replied, defending herself earnestly.

“He’s 17! He was kicked out and he needed a home.”

Maria turned to Harley, who hadn’t dared to move since Natasha had ordered him to sit back down almost an hour ago. “Get out of here, kid. Go get some sleep.”

She sent him an apologetic smile, her face full of regret.

Harley did as asked, quickly picking himself up from the metal chair he’d grown accustomed to, and dashing out of the room. He never wanted to be in that situation again. He never wanted to see Natasha again.

He made it into the elevator and asked FRIDAY to take him to the penthouse. He needed sleep, Maria was right. He needed an escape from his thoughts, from Nat’s endless harassment.

He heard a few muffled shouts from the cabin as the doors closed.

“You’re more alike than you realize.”

Maria had said it. Yelled it. According to her, Harley and Natasha were alike.

God, he hoped not. He didn’t want to be that ruthless. He wanted to keep his kindness. His sarcasm too, she didn’t seem like the kind of person to make sarcastic banter from sunrise til sunset.

He’d hate to be like her.

She’d probably hate to be like him.

Who wouldn’t?

Chapter Text

“Get out of here, kid. Go get some sleep,” Maria said to the boy.

He looked so scared, so small. Natasha had dropped the ball on this one. Or, more accurately, had thrown the ball out of the fucking window.

Maria sent him an apologetic smile, her face full of regret.

She watched him scramble out of the room before speaking again.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Natasha rubbed a hand over her face. She was exasperated from interrogating Harley fruitlessly. It hadn’t been an enjoyable experience for either of them.

“His step-father, the man who raised him,” she started, gesturing aggressively in frustration. “He was a criminal. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Maria. There’s no way he grew up with that man and didn’t pick up a few common traits.”

Maria looked at her girlfriend like she was absolutely crazy. She looked around the room trying to convey her shock at the absolute bullshit she just heard.

“You are a hypocrite, Natasha,” she said, disgusted. “You were raised by assassins. You were trained to kill and spent years honing those skills. No one here treats you like a criminal, and yet you’re fighting so hard to send a kid back to a place that doesn’t want him, when he’s done nothing wrong.”

Natasha had no reply. She couldn’t contest anything that Maria had said. It was all true. It was hurtful, but it was honest. Her face remained cold, and unhurt. She wouldn’t show Maria that she had hit a nerve. She never showed anyone.

“You’re more alike than you realize,” Maria said, her voice raised.

Natasha had been brought up in a place that only used her. She was never loved, she was never cared for. She was abused, and forced into training, and made into a killing machine. Harley, although he hadn’t been taken to an organization designed to make assassins, he was forced into submission, into silence. He was abused, and put aside, and neglected, in favor of cigarettes or drugs.

They were alike. They hadn’t dealt with it in the same way, and they hadn’t exactly had similar childhoods, but they should’ve understood each other better than anyone else.

Natasha had chosen wrong in targeting him. He could’ve used her help.

He could still use her help.

Harley didn’t leave his room the next morning. He really would’ve rather stayed in his own bubble til the end of eternity. He had no desire to recreate what had occurred last night.

Women were scary.

Thank God he’s gay.

He can also thank God that Maria had been there. Who knows how long it would’ve gone on if she hadn’t shown up to put an end to the questions.

It was quiet in his room, but not like the lower floors had been. It was an environment free of sound, free of judgement. The only noise around was Harley’s thoughts. His mind was empty at the moment, choosing not to dwell on the debacle he’d been in. It was finally peaceful, finally calm.

He appreciated the stillness of his environment. The lack of movement, of action. He could process what had happened. He had time to catch up to all the excitement that he’d been so lucky to be apart of.

He got about 20 minutes of peace. Then, the charming teenager he’d ignored so kindly made his appearance. After hearing his signature knock on the door, Harley forced himself out of bed to let him in.

Peter’s face of pure shock when the door opened was priceless. Harley only hoped that FRIDAY had recorded that from his angle, because there was no beating it. He had to suppress a chuckle at the sight of the other boy’s utter disbelief.

Peter had not been expecting the door to be opened, he’d almost thought it would’ve been locked. He schooled his surprised face into one of joy, after a few too many seconds. He glanced behind Harley, seeing the snacks eaten and the water bottle emptied. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a victory.

Little victories gave Peter hope.

“I was just, uh- Checking in,” Peter sputtered, having done no preparation for this conversation, because he didn’t think it would truly be happening today.

Peter was checking in on Harley. He cared.

Harley has had a hundred different pieces of evidence that would allow him to conclude that Peter cares, and that Peter is here to stay in his life. There are just so many examples of people that have seemed like that before, and ended up shattering that image for Harley, that he didn’t find it in him to trust anyone anymore.

Peter had even said it himself before that he cared about Harley. He had outright said it, but it hadn’t truly sunk in until right now.

Harley let a timid smile soften his features and a trace of rose blossom over his cheeks as he stared back at Peter.

“I’m fine,” he managed to say. Look, maybe it was lame, but he was staring right into Peter’s eyes. You wouldn’t have been able to do better either, okay?

Peter started swaying from one side to the other, a nervous habit he had, especially when he couldn’t fidget with his fingers, or wring his hands together.

“Well, I’m gonna go-”

“Wait!” Harley interrupted, startling his companion. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for a movie, darlin’?”

He’d added the pet name a second after he’d finished his sentence, trying to convince hiis counterpart to stay, even if it was through pure manipulation. The nickname never failed at making Peter smile, and ultimately agree to whatever Harley was proposing.

“Sure, honey,” Peter replied, feeling mischievous for playing this game with him.

Harley didn’t feel like this was a game anymore. He really did want to call Peter his darling. And he never felt better than when Peter Parker called him his honey.

The boys spent the entire day together. It wasn’t super exciting at the beginning, as Peter was still trying to get Harley out of his shell. Eventually, though, they managed to have more fun than either of them would’ve anticipated.

They watched the Emperor’s New Groove, a suggestion of Peter’s that Harley accepted hastily.

“Star Wars! Come on, we have to watch Star Wars,” Peter pleaded, bringing out his greatest weapon: the puppy dog eyes.

Harley just rolled his eyes, fighting desperately against the cuteness he held. “Haven’t you seen that about a couple million times already? We need more to our lives than the same 121 minutes over and over again.”

Peter’s body physically deflated, his disappointment showing vividly. He relented, though, offering up the next logical thing. “Fine, then. Emperor’s New Groove is the closest thing.”

Harley brightened at the name of the movie, remembering it from when he and his sister watched it religiously for 2 weeks straight, only to forget its existence and move onto the next thing. He was excited at the prospect of jumping back into this lovely time of his childhood, but-

“What do you mean ‘closest thing,’ how is Star Wars in any way connected to the Emperor’s New Groove?”

“Well, Star Wars is about a bunch of different types of people in space. Emperor’s New Groove is about humans and llamas on Earth,” he started, standing up from the starfish position he had on the bed.

“Then, in both movies and movie series, the bad guy learns about the error of his ways and becomes good. Sort of,” Peter continued, making connections and gesturing wildly, as if he was connecting string to pins on a corkboard.

Harley’s face kept its confused look for a few more seconds, trying to understand what the hell this teenager was saying.

“Anakin doesn’t learn the error of his ways, though. And Yzma certainly doesn’t, she’s just cursed into a llama for all eternity,” he explained. He wasn’t trying to ruin Peter’s fun, but it just seemed so far-fetched, so impossible, that he couldn’t help himself.

Peter got ready to contest what Harley had said, but realized he couldn’t. There was nothing more to say, there was truly nothing to connect both films.

“Yeah, but they both die! So, there you have it. They’re totally similar,” Peter concluded, proud of himself for winning. He sometimes got overly competitive over mundane things, but it’s what made him so fun to be around.

After their laughter-filled movie, they went down to the kitchen for snacks. Or, as Peter called them, ‘snack-i’.

“I’m hungry, we didn’t even have any popcorn for the movie. We need snack-i,” he declared after his stomach had grumbled loud enough for New Jersey to hear.

“Did you just say snack-i? You mean snacks, right?” Harley inquired, giggling at the silliness Peter engaged in for seemingly no reason. 

“If the plural of octopus is octopi and not octopuses, then the plural of anything can be with an i,” Peter reasoned, looking more serious than what the situation called for.

“You’re kidding,” Harley said, questioning himself. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not. Do you legitimately call everything’s plural with an i at the end?”

“Either everything takes an s, or it all takes an i,” Peter deadpanned. “My job, as master of illusion, is to make everyone realize that it doesn’t matter which one you use, because everyone understands anyway.”

“So, you’re too cool for school?” Harley asked, enjoying every minute of this.

Peter tried, he really did, to keep his composure, but after Harley’s comment, he couldn’t anymore. He burst out laughing, causing the other teen to do as well.

“I just like using i’s when it takes an s, and s when it takes an i. It’s funnier that way,” Peter admitted, chuckling wholeheartedly.

They grabbed their snack-i and headed outside for a walk around Manhattan. Harley hadn’t exactly had time for a guided tour. He’d only been out of the Tower to go to school, and even then, he was driven to the gates, and brought back into the garage. He had barely had a second to smell that delicious New York air. Crisp and fresh, with scrumptious tones of hot garbage, sewer rats and questionably-sourced hot dogs.

Peter excitedly invited Harley on a stroll to Queens. Harley seemed hesitant, and Peter was quite confused.

“Hun, it’d take like 4 hours to walk from here to Queens,” he explained, after checking his phone, presumably for a map.

“Oh.”

Peter had never actually walked from the Tower to his Queens apartment with May, he’d always swung. It never took more than 20 minutes to swing, but it would definitely be out of the question to do so with Harley, unless he wanted to risk dropping him and ending their little fling.

They settled for Manhattan. They walked around a couple blocks, circling back and around, having conversations normal people could only dream of.

“Oh, my God! The Richard Rodgers theatre!” Peter squealed as they rounded the corner on 46th Street.

“You like theatre, sweets?” asked Harley, smiling at Peter’s pure wonder.

“Yeah! This is where they do Hamilton, it’s really cool,” the boy replied, staring fascinatedly at the lights and posters that decorated the exterior of the theatre.

“We should go see it sometime,” Harley offered, looking at Peter, rather than the location he was standing in. “I’m sure I’d love it.”

Peter’s eyes glistened with joy. He seemed so thrilled at that moment. He was full of life, full of passion, full of love. Harley loved that he was the one to cause that love to spring out of the other boy. 

The butterflies in Harley’s stomach at the sight of the cutest boy he’s ever known told him he was in love. As much as he enjoyed that, he also felt extreme sorrow, knowing Peter would never love him the same way.

Who would?

After their excursion out in the city streets, the boys hustled home as a storm started brewing at the edge of the island. The rain had just turned from a light sprinkle to a heavy downpour when they crossed the Tower’s doorway. Harley stared out the window at the clouds growing angry and the rain getting more intense.

“You like the view, doll?” Peter teased, leaning against the doorway.

“I’ve always loved the rain in Tennessee, it just looks so different here,” Harley responded.

Whenever he thought of rain, he immediately saw fields filled with blossoming crops. His mind’s eye would conjure up an image of beautiful grassy knolls with streams of rain flowing down the sides.

New York, however, was an entirely different story. Peter hadn’t grown up with flowers and wheat as far as the eye can see. He was raised in a bustling city where rain would only be inconvenient for the thousands of citizens that walked the streets day in and day out. They had to carry umbrellas and stay on schedule. Rain wasn’t celebrated in New York like it was in Tennessee. It wasn’t a gift for their crops and their food, it was just one more thing to beware of.

Peter smiled at the mesmerized eyes of Harley, eternally focused on the passersby. “Rain can be fun sometimes,” he added, not tearing his gaze away from the boy he truly adored.

Harley sat on the floor, deciding he would be spending the next few minutes (hours) at least, people-watching and appreciating the rain. Peter giggled at the antics and sat with his back to the doorway, facing Harley.

Neither of them talked. The silence was enough. It was lovely.

45 minutes later, the rain had almost entirely stopped and Harley found no more pleasure in staring out a window in silence.

Peter suggested going to the lab, seeing as it’d been quite a while since they’d tinkered to their heart’s content.

“Well, I do believe that is a splendid idea, ol’ chap,” Harley said with an overexaggerated British accent after Peter had proposed some lab time.

“Terrific indeed, gent. Tally ho!” Peter replied, holding his hand out for Harley to take.

They intertwined their fingers and took an elevator ride whilst imitating old rich British men and cackling ridiculously. Their hands remained laced as they headed to their workstation in the center of the room. Neither of them cared about how stupid they probably looked, or what would happen if anyone were to walk into the room at that moment.

They were too happy, too absorbed by one another to give any thought to the exterior world.

The only thing that mattered at that moment was the other boy staring back at them across their table.

At one point, Harley’s curiosity got the better of him. He had stayed quiet and hushed his rumbling questions, but he just had to ask.

“So, Spider-Man, huh?”

That did not come out as descriptive a question as he had thought. Whatever.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled, flipping a screwdriver in the air over and over again.

“You can swing around, and stick to stuff, but that’s all your suit,” Harley said, rushing to get to his point. “I want to know what you can really do, Mr. Spider-Man, sir.”

Peter didn’t exactly know how to react. He had never really been asked that before. People usually just cared about the boy in the suit, not the awkward teenage nerd that lay inside it.

“Uh, well. I have super strength? I guess?” he said, unsure of how to proceed without sounding like he was bragging.

Harley’s eyes widened a little, ready to test just how true that sentence was. “Super strength? Like, you could lift me?”

Peter stuttered a little, grasping the concept of physically lifting Harley. “Y-Yeah, sure. I guess I could.”

Both boys smiled shyly, neither one wanting to make the first move. Harley inched closer to his counterpart, opening his arms up like a hug.

“Come on, handsome. Meet me halfway here,” he prompted.

Peter laughed at that and got closer himself. He signalled to Harley to drop his arms from their position, and he bent down to knee height. He grabbed both of Harley’s knees and propped the boy up on his left arm.

Harley had certainly not been expecting that .

Not only did Peter lift him up entirely, he did it with a single hand. What he didn’t do, however, is break a sweat, or look like he was in any discomfort. Harley was merely a new attachment to his body. Not cumbersome in the least.

And that’s how they stayed for the next couple of minutes. Chatting idly, but Harley was sitting on top of Peter’s arm. They had their playful banter, as per usual, and they kept bonding.

A bond. A beautiful, loving, impenetrable bond.

“I actually can stick to stuff without the suit, y’know.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

Harley took that as a challenge. Peter was initially hesitant at showing him this strange power. Mr. Stark had always told him to keep it on the down low when he wasn’t in his suit, because a data leak (however improbable) could result in his identity being blown if he wasn’t careful.

He ended up agreeing, because Spider-Man wasn’t worth it if Peter Parker didn’t have Harley Keener.

Peter showed Harley exactly what he had asked for. He walked from the floor to the wall, and finally, he sat cross-legged on the ceiling, smiling down at the shocked teenager that unknowingly held his heart.

“What’s the view like from up there?” Harley hollered from the workbench they shared.

“Why don’t you find out yourself?” Peter replied, grinning wildly.

“What?”

Instead of giving an answer, Peter dropped down from his position, grabbed Harley by the waist, and hoisted the both of them back onto the ceiling.

“Hey!” Harley said in protest, but it didn’t last long.

He was amazed by the view Peter had when he was on the ceiling. It seemed mundane, dumbfounded even that this view would be so pretty. But there was something about the way the setting sun’s golden rays hit the various metal plates all around the lab that created a mosaic of lights that was just so gorgeous.

They laughed a little more, dangling upside down. Harley had fun wiggling his arms around like a madman, doing dance moves like the snorkel while his shirt fell down and covered his face. Peter was doing the same, so neither of them noticed when Tony walked into the room.

They heard a dramatic gasp and Peter hurried to drop them back to the ground.

“What’s going on, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, readying himself to neutralize a threat.

“Harley, what was that?” he asked, ignoring Peter entirely.

“Uh-” he didn’t exactly know how to reply, and preferred to trade looks with Peter. “We were upside down on the ceiling? Because Peter’s Spider-Man?”

Tony didn’t even engage in the silliness he was proposing. He didn’t seem amused, he was frightened.

Tony Stark. Frightened. In the same sentence. Oh, God.

“No, what was that?” the man reiterated.

Harley’s eyes followed where Tony’s finger was pointing.

It wasn’t very far, it was Harley’s stomach.

Wait-

Oh shit.

Harley’s stomach.

Chapter Text

“This is my really cool shirt?” Harley said, feigning ignorance.

“Kid…” Tony started, placing a hand in front of him, as though he was taming a wild animal. “The bruises.”

Harley stopped like a deer in headlights at that. Maybe he was a wild animal in need of taming after all.

Tony’s voice was talking, he could tell. But he didn’t catch any words, he didn’t try to make them out. He would stop speaking periodically, leaving silence in the room whenever it happened. He assumed the man was asking questions that Harley wasn’t answering.

Peter’s gaze kept switching between the other people in the room. He didn’t know how to tackle this situation, he didn’t know who to go to first. He wanted to get Tony to back off Harley, and explain what might’ve happened, from what he knew. But Harley was the most important person here, he was the one that was hurt, he was the one that needed help. Explanations could come later.

He approached Harley slowly, scolding Tony in between his steps.

“Can you back off?” he snapped, effectively shutting Tony up. “He’s not okay right now, give him a minute.”

Peter took one of Harley’s hands in his and started speaking to the other teen.

“Harls? Hey, hey can you look at me?” Peter asked, trying to coax anything out of the statue that Harley had become.

There was nothing in Harley’s eyes but a dazed look. The boy wasn’t feeling anything. He wasn’t present. Harley could see what was happening to him, but he wasn’t in his body. He was floating, he was separated. It didn’t affect him, he was watching it play out like a movie.

“Come on, Harley. You said it wasn’t that bad, you can’t just-”

“What did you say?”

Peter belatedly realized that Tony didn’t know what had happened with Harley and his family in Tennessee.

No one had wanted to worry him. Harley had been extremely reserved about it and had only recently opened up to Peter. Even then, he’d lied about how bad it was and had refused to elaborate.

There was yelling.

Too much of it.

Throw in a curse word here and there, a misplaced insult, and a really low comeback, and there you have it. Yet another argument between Tony and Peter.

They’d never fought like this before, not before Harley showed up. So what the hell was so different? What did Peter have to prove now? What didn’t Tony understand?

Harley was struck with the overpowering scent of coffee. It was bold and it was strong . He was kickstarted back into his body. He could finally feel again.

He wasn’t floating anymore. He was back.

He jerked his head away from the cup of coffee, trying to get away from the burning the smell was causing.

Peter instantly put the cup down, wiped the corners of his eyes and grabbed both of Harley’s hands.

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay,” he said, rubbing his thumb alongside Harleys’. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

Harley leaned forward, letting himself fall into Peter’s embrace. He was so thankful to be back to himself.

“What happened?” he asked into Peter’s shoulder, his eyes stinging with tears of confusion. “We were in the lab, and now-”

“Yeah, we were messing around in the lab, then Tony walked in and he saw your-”

Peter stopped talking. He hadn’t said it out loud. Bruises. He didn’t want to ever say it. He didn’t want to have to process that Harley was hurt. That he had been continuously hurt for longer than he knew. In a much worse way than he had led on.

“Your stomach,” he finished, swallowing bile.

Harley took deep breaths to calm himself. He wanted to move on, so he had to push past this.

“I remember you lifting me up in the lab. And- and I remember seeing you and Tony. You were mad, like really mad. I was standing next to y’all, but you weren’t talking to me. Now, we’re here.”

Peter finally broke their hug, wanting to look into Harley’s eyes. He didn’t care about how red and puffy his own looked.

“Um. I- I was mad. At Mr. Stark,” he stuttered. “He didn’t know about it, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

“Y’all had a fight?” Harley asked, becoming increasingly alarmed that his situation (which he had strongly insisted on keeping private) had caused a cataclysm between them.

“He was being overdramatic, but yeah, we did.”

LAB - 10/21/17 - 4:36pm

CAMERA 2:

“What did you say?”

Tony had heard wrong, surely. There was no way in hell that Peter had said that. ‘You said it wasn’t that bad.’

Peter knew that Harley was hurt?

And he hadn’t told him?

Oh fuck no.

Tony’s immediate concern was no longer Harley. It was the betrayal he was feeling.

“Did you know?” he asked, burning a whole through the side of Peter’s head.

The boy turned around from his friend’s comatose-like state just long enough to meet Tony’s eyes and realize just how hard this had hurt.

After a very long pause, Peter had to relent.

“...yes.”

Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?

Yes.

Tony took a step back. A second person had let him down.

In mere months.

In the exact same way.

One of the very few people that he trusts with his life. Again.

There had to be something in the water. Someone had tainted their pipes with a hallucinogenic agent that made everyone see crazy things that forced them to let Tony down for everyone’s safety. Right?

“How long have you known?” he asked with a raised voice, clearing his throat to keep his edge.

“36 hours, maybe?” the boy offered, his voice wavering. He gave a sympathetic look to Harley before turning around, ready to face the wrath that was bound to be unleashed on him at any given moment. “I don’t really know much-”

“You know enough. If you knew he was hurt. That he had been hurt, then you knew enough.”

“Mr. Stark, please, it’s not that simple-”

“Yes. It is,” he declared, glaring at the teenager without any empathy, only hurt, betrayal. “How did he get them?”

“Mr. Stark-” Peter tried to begin, but he was shut down instantly with a death stare bad enough to make anyone want to become an ostrich. He sighed before giving into his mentor’s demands. “His step-dad.”

God, Tony! How many times have I told you not to touch my work? You’ve ruined everything!

Maria, get our son out of here. He’s been punished already.

Tony spared a glance at Harley, who’s been standing at their workstation, near-immobile since the ‘big reveal.’

Tony had lived through that, too. He would’ve been able to help.

Fuck. Kids are too goddamn stubborn these days.

“Does he have more?” Tony asked, slightly more calmly this time.

“I don’t know, okay! You know everything I do, congratulations, Mr. Stark. You’ve managed to get everything out of me that Harley didn’t want anyone knowing!”

“Kid, this is for his safety and his well-being,” Tony sighed, not wanting to deal with a dramatic teenager on top of a formerly abused one. 

“He didn’t want to tell you!” Peter yelled. “He didn’t even want to tell me at first, but-”

“But he did. And it was your responsibility to tell me .”

“You wouldn’t understand, Mr. Stark! You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid of being hurt because of who you are, or who you love.”

Peter hadn’t told Tony about being bisexual yet. He hadn’t found the right time, or the right setting. Wanda had told him about her being pansexual, so that had created the perfect timing for him to come out to her, but nobody else in the Tower knew. This could go one of two ways.

“For fuck’s sake, Peter! You don’t even have a father! How the hell would you know what it’s like to be beat up by one?” Tony spat, waving his arms around in crisp, angry movements.

This was not one of the two ways Peter had thought this conversation could go.

He couldn’t have predicted this. That Tony would act like a complete asshole after Peter had just admitted one of the most private and intimate things about his life. About his being.

Peter’s lip started quivering and his breathing picked up. It didn’t take long for tears to flow down his reddening cheeks. 

He stared at Tony in shock. “What the fuck ,” he murmured, sniffing relentlessly.

Peter turned around and placed a hand on the top of Harley’s back to guide him out of the room. He used his other hand to wipe the tears from his face every few seconds.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face as he watched the boys walk away.

He had crossed a line. Undoubtedly. There was no reason for him to go that low, to hit so hard on a kid. Peter had betrayed him, surely, but he was still a child. Tony never knew where to draw the line, and this was a perfect example of his incompetence at keeping relationships via healthy communication. 

“Fuck.”

END OF FEED

Natasha stared at the computer screen in front of her. She’d been watching and rewatching this scene play for over an hour.

She had to find something incriminating, she just had to . She couldn’t have accused a boy, a child of being a mole, or a spy, or ‘out to get them.’

He was innocent.

He was hurting. And he hadn’t told anyone. (Mostly.)

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, grasping just how big of a mistake she had committed.

Maria was right, they were more alike than she realized. She had to make things right, she had to show him that she wasn’t a threat to him. She had to apologize. Shit.

Maria was always right. She should’ve known.

Peter briefly detailed the fight he and Tony had. He might’ve omitted the last line Tony said. If questioned, he’d just say it slipped his mind. That was believable, right?

“Are y’all going to be okay?” Harley asked, terrified that he had caused yet another rupture in their father-son relationship.

“Maybe,” Peter replied, playing with his hands to keep his attention off the memory of the atrocity Tony had yelled in the heat of the moment. “You hungry?”

“I’m okay,” Harley said, despite the time approaching 6 o’clock. Food was the least of his worries at the moment.

They spent most of the evening like that. Harley sitting at his desk, facing Peter, sat on the edge of the bed.

They were quiet. Harley didn’t have anything to say, and Peter didn’t want to pressure the other boy into talking if he wasn’t ready to open up.

He’d already managed to get more information out of him than he had originally wanted, so he was determined to not cross any boundaries. Peter wanted to keep their relationship as healthy and kind as possible. No matter how hard that proved to be on his own emotions.

It had taken so much out of him to stay calm when Tony had uttered the word “bruises.” Not only did it mean that Harley had been hurt far worse than what he had said, but he still kept marks and traces of the abuse. Reminders of the pain and suffering that he had endured for God knows how long. The fact that it was used in plural form just made Peter’s stomach churn. He hadn’t even seen the bruises in question, but the mere thought was more than enough to make him physically sick.

Peter had contained his own emotions, he’d pushed them down and bottled them up. This was no time for him to make it about himself. This was about Harley, about his demons. Peter would have his time at a later date, he could feel his feelings once Harley was all settled and healed.

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” he asked to the pondering teen in front of him.

An affirming nod was the only answer Harley gave, but it was enough for Peter to take his leave for a few minutes. He left the room, and the second the door closed behind him, he leaned his back against the wall.

He brought his hands up to his face, trying to compose himself.

“He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.”

Peter took one last deep breath for the road, and started marching towards the common floor’s kitchen.

It had passed 9, so there wasn’t anyone in the kitchen, and only a few in the adjoining living room. Peter quietly grabbed a few granola bars, some Goldfish Crackers, and good ol’ faithful: PopTarts. 

He was about to head back to his room when he was stopped by a firm hand on the shoulder. Peter turned around to face the person whose hand had suddenly gripped him.

“Hey, kid,” the man greeted, showing a small smile at the same time, about as big as his ever were.

“Oh, hi Mr. Barnes!” Peter gushed, trying to wave to him, despite the many snacks filling his hands.

“How’s the other kid doing? We haven’t seen him in awhile,” Bucky asked, his smile melting into an expression of concern.

Peter was slightly startled by the nature of the question. Harley had met most of the team, but he still found it quite strange that they seemed to instantly care about him. Heroes tended to care, though, it was practically in the job description.

“He’s.... he’s going to be okay, I think,” Peter stated, his eyes wandering the tiled floor, deep in thought.

Bucky took a long moment to look over the teenager before him. Peter was usually so bright and bubbly, but this seemed to have saddened him so much. He was hesitant, not cracking jokes, not even making eye contact. (Boy did this kid love eye contact.)

“Well, we’d love to see him again,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Sam and Steve talking in the living room. “If you need anything, you let us know, alright?”

Peter managed to pull his gaze away from the ground long enough to answer. “Yeah. I think he’d love to spend more time with you guys, too.”

He flashed a timid smile at the man and headed back towards the elevator to find Harley once more.

Whilst walking the hallway towards his room, he crossed paths with Natasha coming from the opposite direction. He tipped his head as a form of hello, and she replied with a smile that said ‘I definitely know more than you.’ He was a little frightened by the sight, but kept on his path and entered his room.

He dropped his supplies onto the bed with a grunt of mock-effort. As if Spider-Man had trouble lifting a quarter of a pound of snacks.

“This is the selection for you dining pleasure, doll,” Peter announced, smiling at the other boy.

It was only at this moment that he noticed the distinct shade of crimson that tainted Harley’s face, a very deep kind of blush.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he laughed, catching a Nature Valley bar that had been thrown his way just a few seconds prior.

Natasha had asked FRIDAY to inform her whenever Harley was alone so that she could make her move and apologize for her assumption on his character.

“ Mr. Keener is currently alone in Mr. Parker’s room,” FRIDAY said, announcing the window she had to have this conversation.

She quickly walked to Peter’s room, knocking gently on the door. It had only been a few seconds since Peter had left, so Harley knew it couldn’t be him coming back just yet.

He got up from his seat and opened the door. The second, the millisecond , he recognized the red hair, he violently flinched back from the doorway.

She was coming back to interrogate him again. She was back for round 2. She was never going to let him off the hook. She would try forever, she would convince anyone and everyone that Harley was disgusting and that he was a criminal and cruel and-

“I’m sorry.”

Harley’s mind shut up. Instantaneously.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have interrogated you, I- I was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

Natasha hadn’t opened the door, she had given him that extra protection. She figured if he wanted to talk, he would open it for her whilst knowing she was the one on the other side. It wasn’t fair for her to impose herself in this safe-space that Peter’s room had become for him. He deserved better.

She sounded more than sincere. She was truly hurting for him.

“Harley, I’m sorry,” she said once more, with a wavering voice.

He pulled on the door to open it further, giving him a clear sight of the woman. She was dressed more casually than the previous night. She wasn’t trying to look scary or powerful. She was in a simple tank top and sweatpants. Nothing to show any sign of aggression or superiority. She was being honest. And vulnerable.

“Come in,” he said in a small voice, as if trying not to set something off inside her to start her anger again.

She took Peter’s spot on the bed, sitting at the edge, looking towards Harley’s desk and chair. He regained his seat, looking back at her, as well.

“I should have talked to you before resorting to… that . I should have respected you when you didn’t want to talk, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you change your mind?” Harley asked, knowing this change of heart didn’t occur purely because she ‘got to know the true him.’

She sighed heavily, clearly conscious that she had obtained this knowledge in a less-than-moral manner. “I had FRIDAY keep tabs on you, so she showed me what happened in the lab earlier.”

Harley’s eyes widened. He fought very hard to keep his emotions in check, but it was so hard when another person knew about his past. How many people would it take? The whole Tower? How about the whole school? Let’s just broadcast it on CBS, have the entirety of New York know!

Nat could sense the panic rising in him. She knew she had to defuse this bomb before he got out of hand. She had to connect with him, show him that she truly wasn’t a threat and wanted to make things right.

She searched the depths of her mind for a way to create a bond with this teenager in less than a minute. Her eyes skimmed over everything in Peter’s room.

Hey, wait. Peter’s room. They were spending an awful lot of time together. And he had helped Harley with his panic attack the other day, not Tony .

“You know, Maria told me yesterday that you and I are alike,” she started, rubbing her hands together, crossing and uncrossing her fingers continuously.

“I didn’t have it super easy growing up, either. Especially not in my teens. The Red Room didn’t take it too kindly when me and another widow started getting a little too close,” she continued, tilting her head knowingly.

Harley’s attention was grabbed, finding a common point between them.

“They really loved making my life hell for those few years,” Nat remembered, shaking her head slightly to express her resentment towards the institution. “But, after all of that, I managed to find Maria. And she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Natasha smiled as she reminisced over every tiny detail that had made her fall for her girlfriend in the first place. Harley found it comforting to have another LGBTQ+ person he could confide in. Someone that was successful, that was happy. A strong person in power, but one that could represent his community. That could show him that even with all the hardships he’s had to go through, things can still turn out okay.

“Seems to me like you might’ve found your Maria, too,” she proposed, gesturing at the room they were in.

Harley flushed a very deep red in that moment, knowing that she was right, but not exactly ready to admit it out loud just yet. He just smiled at his shoes and let the tiniest chuckle escape his lips.

Natasha knew what that meant. She had been a schoolgirl with a crush before. She thought it pleasant that she could be a helping hand for Harley. Now that she was sure he wasn’t a hired-hand sent out to murder them all. She could see to it that he would get a proper life from now on, and give him as much advice as he’d want.

She started getting up from the bed, having said her piece. She walked to the door, but lingered in the doorway.

“I truly am sorry, Harley. Maria, Sam and Bucky are always around if you’d rather talk to them about this,” she added with a wink at the end.

Then, she turned around and walked away.

Peter walked in just a few seconds after she’d left, making him a witness to the severe blush on his cheeks.

He just wouldn’t know that he was the reason why.

Chapter Text

‘’Tony.’’

No response.

Natasha could see Tony’s head peeking out from the couch cushions. He’s not deaf, she knew she was being loud enough.

‘’ Tony. ’’

‘’What do you want, Natasha?’’ he asked, more impatient than not.

She was surprised at his reaction. He had just learned, a few hours ago, if that, that his surrogate-son had been abused. And he didn’t even care?

He wasn’t running around, he wasn’t pacing around the room, barking orders at anyone in sight. He was laying on his couch, silent as can be.

‘’Cut your kids some slack,’’ she commanded, staring him down from behind.

That managed to coax a reaction out of the man, who sat up straight and gave her one of his patented ‘you’re-trying-to-act-like-you’re-more-powerful-than-me-but-you’re-not’ looks.

‘’Which kid?’’ he asked, raising his eyebrows in an unimpressed expression.

‘’Both of them, dumbass,’’ Nat replied, sitting down on the loveseat facing Tony’s proclaimed throne. ‘’You need to help them.’’

He had tried helping them. That’s all he’s ever tried to do. And yet, he’s just fucked up worse and worse every single time he tried.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do, Natasha?” he snapped, raising his voice and growing angry.

“You’ve been putting your pride first. The boys should always come-”

“I know!” Tony yelled. “They both come first. Always have. Always will.”

“Then what the hell is wrong with you?” Natasha replied, crossing her arms as she stared back at him.

“I’m trying!” he shouted, begging her to believe him. “I’ve been trying so hard.”

He carded his fingers through the waves of his hair, gripping the ends tightly.  He took deep breaths, a meager attempt at containing the emotions that were reaching their tipping point.

Nat could only look back at him anxiously. He was breaking. He was breaking. He cared so much about these stupid teenagers that he had been stopping himself from having emotions that weren’t helping them .

She stood up, uncrossing her arms, and opening them up to hug the man in front of her. Tony just stared back at her, not wanting to cross the distance that separated them. The distance that acted as a buffer, a wall that prevented his feelings from toppling out of him.

“Tony. It’s okay,” she said softly, encouraging him to embrace his humanity.

He looked at her through his tear-filled eyes, debating whether this was sincere, or just another thing for her to throw back at him at a later date. He took a single step forward before he was encased in Nat’s arms.

“I know you’re trying,” she said, rubbing his back reassuringly. “You’re doing great with the boys.”

Tony had to bite back sobs, not wanting to show any more weakness than he already had. Nat had been so against Harley, but she had always been so welcoming to Peter. It seemed different now than it had been the past week. She was kinder, speaking about both boys, not separating Peter from Harley. 

She had known something was wrong from the start. She’d been wrong about the nature of the issue, but she had been somewhat correct, nonetheless. Tony should’ve seen it too.

“I should’ve known,” he wept over her shoulder. “I’ve known him since he was 11, I should’ve-”

“Hey,” Nat stopped him. “You’ve been doing your best. You couldn’t have noticed something he hid so adamantly. Since you know now, you can help him.”

They stayed in their hug for a minute longer. Tony was trying to compose himself, to put his game-face back on. Natasha was concerned by the fact that he’d actually cried. This meant more to him than his anger could express. It was deeper than something that his rage could represent. It was sadness, and it was shattering his heart in more pieces than he could’ve imagined.

They parted, and Tony genuinely thanked her. It had been freeing for him to finally let his tears fall. Pepper would probably be pissed that he hadn’t gone to her, but he didn’t choose this moment to be vulnerable. He never would’ve chosen it in the first place.

A few minutes after Natasha had left the penthouse, he made his move to go talk to his fiancée. It had to happen, and it was better to do it on his terms, than when she inevitably found out and chewed him out for it.

He leaned on the doorway of the office, watching her as she sorted through many a stack of papers and files. He smiled knowing that this display of domesticity was something he’d get to see so much more of once they got married.

He pushed himself off the entrance, making his way as quietly as possible to the back of his girlfriend’s chair. He bent down and kissed her cheek, resulting in a surprised giggle and a very fond smile.

“Hey, hun,” Pepper greeted, swivelling her chair around to face Tony.

Her smile wavered slightly when she took in the expression he was sporting. His eyes were red from crying and his hair was a mess. She stood up from her seat, taking his hands in hers.

“What happened?” she asked, knowing it would be fruitless to ask if everything was okay. It was obviously not. Tony never cried, not even when everyone begged him to. Not even when all anyone wanted was to know that he had emotions like a normal human being.

“Harley,” he whispered, looking deep into his lover’s eyes.

Pepper’s brows furrowed, concern surging through her body. Before she could even get a word out, Tony continued.

“They hurt him when he was in Tennessee.”

Her pulse was slamming against her skin. She could feel it in every single limb, in her temples, in her chest, everywhere. Harley was hurt. She had never really known the boy, not when he was a kid, nor this past week, but Tony cared so much about him. She had only wanted good things for him. She was ready to accept him like a second ‘son,’ just like Peter had been welcomed. And now she was learning her son was hurt.

“They? Who’s they?” Pepper asked, calculating in her mind just how much it might cost to file a lawsuit or send a SWAT team to Tennessee to take care of some people.

“His step-dad, according to Peter.”

Pepper had been soft. She had been saddened, but calm. Knowing it was his own step-father changed that. Cool-tempered, kind, caring Pepper Potts was ready to go on a rampage in NYC.

“His step-dad abused him ? ” she repeated, pulling her hands away from Tony’s.

All Tony did was nod, and Pepper was gone.

She had swiftly moved from the office to their nearby bedroom, grabbing her cellphone from the nightstand on her side of the bed. She was already talking with someone on the other line by the time Tony made it to their bedroom.

“That’s correct. Perfect, thank you,” she said into the phone, hanging up and dropping her cheerful tone.

Tony’s quizzical eyes were enough for her to begin her explanation.

“The principal at Midtown. Harley needs some time to himself to process. We’re not sending him to school 5 days a week while he’s healing and while he’s dealing with this trauma.”

Never in a million years would Tony have thought of school in a situation like this. Pepper knew to do things that Tony wouldn’t even fathom. It was incredible, and incredibly useful.

“Is he okay?” she asked next, looking at Tony unsure.

His first thought was no. He is so far from okay that it’s not even in the same ballpark, the same postal code. 

“What kind of injuries does he have?” Pepper clarified, seeing the displeased look that glazed Tony’s eyes.

“I don’t really know,” he admitted, thinking back to the bright flash of violet that marred the boy’s skin. “Bruises, but I don’t know if there’s more.”

“He needs to be checked out,” concluded Pepper, taking matters into her very capable hands. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Tony would love nothing more than to know once and for all that Harley wasn’t in any pain. Or, at the very least, to stop the pain that he could be feeling at this very moment.

There was just one small issue with this plan. Harley would never agree to it. He had flown out of his body the second he’d realized that his secret was out. There was no telling just how bad his reaction would be if they asked to see the entirety of what had been done to him. Nevermind the physical pain this might induce, but the emotional suffering that it would entail for Harley to relive the whole experience was just too high a price to pay. Plus, he’d have to trust the person that cared for him. And it didn’t seem like there were very many people that Harley trusted at the moment.

They had to try, though.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to ask,” Tony said. “Thank you, Pep. He’ll be okay. He will.”

They shared a long hug. Neither of them wanted to break apart, but it was getting late, and they had to get to sleep.

They had things to do in the morning.

The following morning, Peter took the elevator from his quarters to the common floor, in search of breakfast for him and his best friend.

We sluggishly walked through the living room, dragging his feet on the wooden floorboards, letting his overly-long pajama pants sweep up any dust that lay sprinkled on the floor.

He was trotting along on his path, rubbing his eyes now and again to wake himself up, fully. He did so one too many times, making him see multicolored spots dance around his field of vision. He thought he rubbed so hard he hallucinated. He could swear he saw Tony and Bruce sitting at the kitchen island.

Oh.

Fuck.

Tony and Bruce were sitting at the kitchen island. Both men snapped towards Peter when he stepped foot in the room.

“Where’s Harley?” Tony asked hastily, looking around the room, as if to make him appear out of thin air.

Peter didn’t know what to say. He was baffled. It was like Tony didn’t even care about him. He’d been replaced with Harley in a heartbeat . That’s all it took for Peter to go from prized possession to insulted and degraded pain-in-the-ass. Tony acted as if their screaming match hadn’t taken place a few hours prior. He was a master at ignoring details that didn’t help him, even when that meant hurting others. Or neglecting them.

“He’s sleeping.”

“He needs a check-up,” Tony stated, looking past Peter at the elevator that was on the other side of the room. “Those bruises looked really bad, kid.” He gestured to Bruce besides him, signalling that he could use his expertise in biochemistry and hopefully translate that into medicine.

“Don’t call me kid,” Peter lashed out.

“Pete-”

“You’re not doing anything against his will,” Peter said, cutting Tony off. “He has to say yes to a check-up.”

Bruce took this time to interject, seeing an opening for his word.

“Of course we’d get consent,” Bruce assured. “We’d never do anything against his wishes.”

Peter thought it best to look at Dr. Banner. He didn’t want to talk to Tony if he was just going to ignore what had happened and how horribly he had treated him. Peter was still hesitant at agreeing. He knew he’d have to ask Harley, but it just seemed too fresh a wound to poke at. He didn’t want to step too far, or cross a boundary. On the other hand, they were talking about his safety, his health. It had to come first.

“I’ll ask him.”

Peter grabbed every different kind of fruit they had, not knowing which one Harley preferred and not wanting to show up without his favorite. He also chose a few different kinds of yogurts from the fridge and started making his way back to his room.

When he opened the door to his quarters, he was slightly surprised to find Harley awake. He would’ve assumed the boy would stay asleep as long as humanly possible until it became worrisome.

Against those predictions, he was sitting up in bed, looking around with the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He was examining every nook and cranny of the room, spending long seconds staring at the various posters that covered the walls. He also dedicated long moments to looking out the window, appreciating the sight that he had day in and day out in this Tower.

Peter dropped the breakfast foods on the bed, keeping two spoons in his hands for the yogurt. He took his spot next to Harley at the head of the bed, passing him one of the spoons.

Harley chuckled at the size of the feast Peter had brought for them.

“I didn’t know your favorite fruit, so I just- I got all of them,” Peter admitted sheepishly.

“Anything’s fine, sugar.”

Oh God. Harley had no idea just how hard those nicknames pulled at his heartstrings. He would listen to them all day. He would do anything just to be able to hold Harley’s hand and call him ‘mine.’

They ate their breakfast at a nice pace, in a pleasant ambiance. They were chatting sometimes, other times they just sat in silence. Peter took advantage of one of the lulls in their conversation to ask the question he had been coerced into relating.

“Do you think- Um, would you-” Peter cut himself off, not knowing how to approach this question without sounding insensitive or arrogant.

He took a deep breath, and gave it another try. “I’m worried about you. Would you be okay with Dr. Banner doing a check-up?”

Harley stopped chewing, he swallowed once, meeting Peter’s eyes as he did so. “No, thank you.”

Pardon? ‘No, thank you.’ Who the hell talks like that? What was that?

That was probably the opposite of what Peter was expecting. He thought an aggressive, maybe violent reaction would’ve happened. Or, something more quiet, more like the dissociative episode he had last night.

He had just stayed calm. Calm and cool and collected. His facade somewhat extended to his interior thoughts. He knew the Avengers would do anything if he just said no, so it seemed the logical step to try before getting violent or rude.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they demanded answers and forced him into something, but he was determined to run out that clock before reliving those situations any more than he already does in his dreams.

Peter didn’t push Harley into anything. He had given a clear ‘no,’ and Peter would respect that as long as it stood. He would be the first one in line to help him find his way to the Medbay, should he ever desire to get there. Until then, they’d sit in bed, eat oranges for days, and watch sappy movies like The Notebook.

They had managed to fall asleep after watching the ‘cinematic masterpiece’ that The Notebook is.

They were both pulled from their dreams as a buzzing woke them up. Peter padded himself down, realizing it was his phone going off.

He clicked the green ‘answer’ button before even checking the caller, too dazed from his sleep to think.

“ Peter Benjamin Parker. Where the hell are you?” said a voice, far too loudly, on the other line.

“I’m at the Tower! I told you the other day!”

“ No, Peter, you told me last week . You’ve been at the Tower for over 8 days.”

“I’m sorry, May, but there’s been a lot going on,” he said, incapable of stopping a yawn from escaping his lips.

“ All you said was that there’s some boy that showed up and he needed a friend. I didn’t think you’d move into the Tower for a friend!” May said, scoffing at the thought.

Peter bit his lip at the choice of words she’d used. She had only meant it in a platonic way, but there was a slightly different interpretation that was wildly closer to the reality Peter dreamt of.

He got up from the bed, waving at Harley to stay there.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to his friend, moving into the ensuite.

“I’m not moving into the Tower, May,” he insisted, rubbing a hand over his face.

“ Come on, I miss you. I haven’t had takeout in 8 days, Peter! That’s a crime!”

“My friend really needs me, he’s having a tough time. I should be back by next week, probably,” he said, bargaining with her for extra time with Harley.

“ At least bring your friend around for some Thai food tonight. It’ll be good for everyone,” May tried compromising, missing her nephew more than words could express. He felt like everything but a nephew to her, at this point.

“Sure, May,” Peter relented. There was no way she’d agree to him staying over for an extra 7 days without them giving a little. And a meal with May Parker? As long as she wasn’t the cook, the company would definitely make the meal a pretty perfect experience. “We can have Thai tonight, Prachya Thai, 7 o’clock?”

“ Sure, sweetie,” she said, and Peter could practically hear her smile through the phone. “ Can’t wait to meet your ‘friend.’”

There was a very malicious lilt that she used for the word friend, plus it was followed by a series of snickers on her end.

“May!” Peter whined, not wanting his aunt to mess with his love-life. Having a Sokovian best friend do that was already a handful. “We are friends.”

“ Honey, I’ve been a teenager. I know what it’s like. I also know you wouldn’t want to talk to your parents about it,” May replied, once again with an audible smile. “ It’s lucky that I’m your aunt.”

“I’m hanging up now,” Peter said, tired of the mockery he was subjected to every time he referred to Harley as his friend. What else was he supposed to call him? An acquaintance? They had definitely passed that, but they weren’t more than friends, so that was the most appropriate term for their relationship. No matter what anyone said.

Peter walked out of the bathroom, headed back to his seat next to Harley.

“We’re having dinner out tonight,” he announced, smiling innocently at the other teen.

Oh, boy.

Harley would be meeting the aunt. And he wouldn’t even know just how important that was to Peter.

Chapter Text

Harley and Peter walked into the restaurant. Peter was slightly in the lead, opening the door for Harley and showing him to where May was already seated.

She stood up as she saw them approaching, smiling warmly at the son she’d missed, and even more fondly at the slightly taller boy he was with.

Peter and May hugged longingly whilst Harley stood by, watching the family-ness unfold. He let his gaze wander from the duo in front of him to the mesmerizing lights in the window, and the decor that covered the walls.

He finally looked back to see May and Peter breaking apart. It had only been a week since they hadn’t seen each other, and they were hugging like they’d never had before.

It was unfathomable to Harley that May cared so much for no reason. She was just there for Peter. She cared, and she wanted to see him and to spend time with him. She offered to have dinner because she missed him, after just a week? It had taken over a month for Harley’s mom to even talk to him after he’d come out.

A month and a half. 6 weeks. 42 days. Before she even talked to him.

Peter’s aunt had been so concerned after just 8 days. Harley could only wonder why this realization didn’t hurt as much as it should. Knowing that the boy you met a week ago is beyond loved and you were neglected to an inhumane point should provoke a demon in you. It should cause you to lose faith in everything, in justice and in the world. Shouldn't it?

Harley didn’t feel despair, though. He only held love in his heart. He knew that Peter had been appreciated and cared for throughout his entire childhood. That only made him smile.

May went in for a hug with Harley, as well. The teen was hesitant at first, but didn’t resist for long, giving into the kind eyes and good intentions that May Parker held.

Their embrace was moving to say the least. It showed that a woman who didn’t even know Harley was capable of more care than the people who birthed him and raised him. May was a loving person, and Harley could feel his eyes get misty in her comfort.

They sat down for dinner, Peter and Harley side by side, facing May. They chatted about during their meal, sharing far more laughs then Harley would’ve expected from a dinner with Peter’s aunt.

As they left the restaurant, going in different directions on the sidewalk, Peter couldn’t help but let his gaze linger a little longer on his aunt. He smiled at her proudly, getting a thumbs up and a very enthusiastic nod in response.

She liked Harley.

May approved of Harley, and that made his crush so much more real.

This night had been so perfect. Harley had gotten a little out of his shell when talking to May, asking her questions too, not just being on the receiving end. They had cracked jokes, all three of them. Peter and Harley were sitting wildly close to each other during the entire meal.

And May liked him, too.

Once they had gotten back to the Tower, Peter had offered to watch a few dozen episodes of a TV show together, as they seemed to do almost every other day.

“Sure, darlin’,” Harley had agreed, tilting his head and taking in the joy that lit up Peter’s face. “I’ll go shower, and be right back for ya’.”

Peter awkwardly waved to him, not exactly sure how to bid him this temporary goodbye. He used his alone time in the most productive way possible.

AKA, he went to the kitchen to grab as many snacks as he could fit in his hands. Actually, it was way more than that, since he had thought of bringing his web shooters to stick extra bags of chips to his torso, or bottles of Coke and Sprite to his hips.

He managed to waddle back to his quarters without any snacks falling off his body, or bottles of soda popping open. Peter considered that a win, already.

He put all his schoolwork into his backpack, clearing his desk for the multitude of snacks he had brought. Peter set them up in nice rows and columns, having several of each to determine which ones Harley liked best, and which ones he’d know to leave in the kitchen next time.

Peter dimmed the lights, turning on the television in his room. The ambiance should be perfect for their movie. Just the right amount of darkness to enjoy the flashing lights of any motion picture they’d choose, but not completely engulfed in the shadows, so as to fall asleep.

He thought it looked pretty amazing, for just a few minutes of preparation, and a limited budget of $0. 

Peter closed the door and waited next to it for Harley to knock, ready to make his entrance quite the extravaganza.

After the third knock from his counterpart, Peter pulled the door open with a flourish, saying something along the lines of “Tadah!”

Harley’s face pulled into the biggest smile he had worn in a very long time. “Hun, did you do all this for me?” he chuckled, practically speechless at the effort Peter had put into this impromptu unofficial date of theirs.

“Maybe,” Peter smiled, placing two bottles behind his back. “Pick a hand, sweets.”

They spent about half an hour just getting set-up for their binge watching. Tons of food and giggles later, they finally settled on watching The Office.

Peter had seen it more times than should be legal, and Harley had heard good things about it, but had never committed to watching the entire series. It seemed a perfect opportunity to bind them together even more tightly.

Peter quoted more sentences than not, choosing to impress his partner by reciting almost the entire script of 3 whole episodes. All Harley could think about was just how much time Peter had wasted watching this show if he could recall the exact words used and do a perfect imitation of the actors’ intonations.

They had just finished the 6th episode of season 1 (because ‘if we’re going to watch the Office, and you’ve never seen it, we’re starting from the beginning.’) Peter had to get this weight off his chest.

It had been pressing down on him since the moment Harley walked into the lab. It had never ceased to grow from then. And with May’s blessing, Peter found no reason not to tell Harley how he felt.

“I like you,” he breathed, feeling his heart pounding out of his chest.

Harley didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t want to take a wrong turn and make this go away. He didn’t want this illusion to shatter. Peter liked him?

Wait. Why the fuck would Peter like him?

“What?” Harley replied, almost incapable of getting the word out of his mouth.

Peter looked around the room nervously, debating whether to repeat himself or just brush it off. It was probably too late to backtrack, now.

“I like you, Harls,” with a small chuckle and a timid smile.

Harley couldn’t comprehend the words that were coming out of Peter’s mouth. He liked him. He liked him . This was a fairytale. A Disney, pixie-dust covered, glittery, sparkly, incomprehensibly tall tale that Harley’s mind was fabricating out of sheer desperation. It had to be.

“But, you-” he stuttered, his mind flooding him with doubts and insults. There was no way Peter honestly liked Harley. “You can’t.”

Peter didn’t know how to respond to that. Harley hadn’t requited the affection like he’d hoped, but it wasn’t an outright dismissal. It was more akin to confusion, discombobulation almost.

“Harls-”

“No, you, just, you can’t possibly-” he rambled, trying to put the millions of words flying in and out of his brain into complete sentences that might make sense. “I’m a screw up.”

Peter was decidedly taken aback by the sentence. Of all the things he thought might be the root of his rejection, Harley being a self-proclaimed ‘screw-up’ was definitely not one of them.

“What?” It was Peter’s turn to be perplexed. He straightened his back, furrowing his brows in a deep sense of confusion.

“I’m nothing to like, Pete,” Harley stated, shaking his head ever so slightly. “You, of all people, should know that.”

Peter kept switching his eyes from left to right, vying for anything he could grasp in Harley’s speech.

“I’m battered and bruised,” Harley said, shrugging his shoulders. “Literally,” he added through a scoff.

That. That is exactly when it clicked in Peter’s mind. When he realized that Harley blamed himself for what happened to him. That he thought the effects of it made him less capable of love, or less capable of receiving it.

Peter couldn’t hear his heart thumping against his ribcage anymore. He was pretty sure it had broken the moment that sentence escaped Harley’s lips.

His entire face softened, his eyes watering at the display of vulnerability Harley had yet to share with anyone else in the Tower, but him. He exhaled a small sigh, knowing he had to let Harley finish what he had to say before dismantling this image he had made of himself.

“I’ve been hurt, Peter.”

Wow. That cut deeper than Peter expected it to. Not only did he say out loud that he had been abused, but it was the first time ever that he had used his name. It’d always been nicknames, or ‘Pete.’ Not once had he called him Peter.

“My dad chose alcohol over me, and my mom didn’t even care,” Harley admitted with a shaking voice. “Then, when I told my mom and step-dad I was gay, they kicked me out. I lived in our shed for over a month, before my mom decided she ‘missed me.’ She begged me to move back in with them, and that’s when my step-dad started hitting me.”

Peter held a fist up to his mouth, not wanting to make any noise, but physically unable to keep his tears and sobs in. It was heart wrenching to see Harley explain what he had been through.

“3 out of 3 parental figures I’ve had have been awful. Either directly, or not,” he said as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. “If the people who created me can’t love me, how can you?”

The question tore Peter apart. Harley had asked it so quietly. He seemed so afraid of saying it, it came out barely louder than a whisper. Harley didn’t think he was worthy of love. He thought himself incapable of getting the care he deserved. 

He wanted to cut Harley off, to shower him with love and care and attention. He knew it would’ve been useless, though. If he didn’t feel like he deserved it, like he could truly cherish it without waiting for the other shoe to drop, without feeling like wool was being pulled over his eyes, then he wouldn’t accept it at all.

“I’m a burden,” Harley murmured, staring absently at the far end of the room. He turned to look Peter in the eyes, a hint of a smile draping over his face. “No one likes a burden.”

Peter couldn’t help himself anymore. There were so many things wrong with what he had said, and there were so many things he had to say to prove to him that he was loveable and just how much love he had to give.

“None of this is your fault,” Peter started, wiping the tip of his nose with the back of his shirt sleeve. “But all of it is yours to bear.”

Harley wasn’t sure how to respond to that. If he just hadn’t said anything about being gay, then he wouldn’t have been hurt. It was cause and effect. As simple as that. If he had been a better son, his father wouldn’t have chosen alcohol. Cause and effect. If he had been more exceptional, his mother would’ve had something to be proud of, and to care about. Once again, it was his fault.

Peter was right about the other part, though. It was his to bear. Every single day, he carried around the weight of having disappointed every member of his family. He couldn’t pinpoint a moment where his sister had been a victim of his idiocy, but he was sure it wouldn’t be too hard for her to come up with an example, if prompted.

“It is my fault,” Harley answered solemnly.

“No, Harls! It isn’t!” Peter said, standing up from the bed. “You’re a teenager. A kid. Your parents didn’t treat you well, and that is entirely on them. There is nothing you could’ve done to change them . They’re the adults, they were in charge, they were in power.”

Harley stared back at the agitated boy before him. It was so unlike Peter to be mad, to be gesturing wildly with his hands to exaggerate his points.

“What they did to you is illegal , Harley. It wasn’t just you, because you were being a bad kid, or because you’re hard to love. They are bad people .”

Peter took the effort to articulate certain words very aggressively. He was putting so much emphasis on the fact that he had been a victim, that it wasn’t his fault.

“If I wasn’t so broken, then they would’ve loved me!”

“But I love you!”

They just stared at each other. Peter was breathing heavily, his hands spread wide at his sides. Harley was still sitting on the bed, tears still rolling down from his reddened eyes.

“But why ?” Harley asked. It was the most unfathomable in his mind for anyone to love him.

Peter just laughed quietly at the question. He might not have prepared anything for this question, but he was more than ready to answer.

“Because you’re you! ” Peter said, smiling shyly. “You’re so incredibly funny, Harley.”

“You are way past handsome,” he added. “And you are the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

The comment raised confusion amongst the boy in question. Harley couldn’t really understand how he was the strongest. He had run away from his home because he’d been hurt. He could’ve taken more. He wasn’t dead, he should’ve stayed. It should also be noted that Peter spends a lot of his free time with the Avengers. Earth’s mightiest heroes. And Harley is Peter’s pick for strongest? Sure.

“You never complain, you never say anything bad about anyone, and you are always positive,” Peter argumented, saying this as evidence. “You’ve been to hell and back, and somehow you’re still smiling and laughing with me. You took everything from your parents, and you made it into the best person I’ve met.”

Harley started seriously considering what Peter was offering up. It’s true that he had never even thought of replicating the behavior he had witnessed or been subjected to when he was growing up. He only wanted the best for people, and that meant giving them a better life than what he had.

“You deserve everything the world has to offer, Harls,” Peter insisted, taking the other boy’s hands in his. “You just have to accept it.”

Harley was forced to look right into Peter’s eyes. They were holding hands, mere inches apart. Peter was going to such great lengths to prove to him just how much love he really deserved. It might’ve been starting to stick.

“I don’t love your past, or what they did to you. I will never love that. I love you . Who you are at your core.”

“My core?” Harley asked incredulously.

“Your goofiness, when you asked me how my Spider-Man powers worked,” Peter said, cracking a smile at the memory. “Your kindness, like how you thank everyone, no matter how small a gesture they did. Especially your outgoing-ness. The first time you met most of the team? That was a great day,” he specified with a laugh.

“You love me?”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” Peter promised. He knew that was one of the biggest fears Harley most likely had, considering his childhood.

“I love you too,” Harley chuckled, causing a cascade of more tears to fall.

“Then that’s settled,” concluded Peter, freeing one of his hands from Harley’s to wipe his tears away with his thumb. “We’re a couple?”

“We’re a couple.”

Chapter Text

“As your boyfriend-” Peter started, holding a finger up and waving it around menacingly.

“You don’t get to play that card,” Harley interrupted, scoffing wholeheartedly.

“Oh but I do,” Peter affirmed, grinning widely. “Am I not your boyfriend?”

Harley chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other boy, his boyfriend’s , games. “Fine.”

Peter’s face softened as his demeanor sobered. “Please go see Dr. Banner.”

Harley sat up straight in Peter’s bed, the one they’d both slept in after finally admitting their feelings (and watching several more episodes of an admittedly overrated television show.) Peter was already standing, having gotten up earlier to change and get ready for school. (Although, FRIDAY took it upon herself to inform Peter that Pepper had not only called Harley out from school, but Peter as well. She knew they were better together, that they needed each other.)

Harley wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want any more people to see him be vulnerable, Peter was already plenty . On the other hand, he knew he wasn’t going to be let off the hook without so much as a glance. If he kept on refusing, it would only lead to more fights and more concern. There was very little hope that he could truly get this off anyone’s minds. Saying no would only be delaying the inevitable. One last try couldn’t hurt, though. Right?

“I’m feeling fine, hun,” he pleaded to his newly-officialized lover.

“Your forehead was warm last night,” Peter replied, recalling when he was playing with Harley’s hair once they’d resumed their binge-watching. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Damn. Harley could swear he didn’t have a fever, but it’d be no use. Peter was definitely not going to back down on this, no matter how passive he was about it.

“Okay,” he said, after a rather long pause. He slowly got out of bed, holding his hand out for Peter to take.

“It’s going to be okay,” Peter reassured, linking their hands together and hugging his partner in the process.

They walked out of Peter’s room and towards the elevator, headed for the Medbay. They stood quietly in the lift, still holding each other’s hand.

“Hey Fri? Could you get Dr. Banner to meet us in the Medbay, please?” Peter asked gingerly, breaking their silence. 

“ Of course, Mr. Parker. He should arrive shortly.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing a new part of the Tower that Harley hadn’t seen yet. Peter took it upon himself to give his boyfriend a tour of the floor.

They examined every square inch of the place, Peter spending far too much time trying to explain the machines that no one else had any interest in. After their escapade around the entire level, they circled back to the entrance. Peter directed Harley towards an exam room to the left of the elevator, where they got settled.

Harley sat at the edge of the table, holding Peter’s hand. The other teen had chosen a spinning stool as his seat, which Harley took great advantage of; twirling Peter around until they were both giggling cheerfully.

Bruce knocked on the door twice before entering with a wary smile. The man’s expression grew more assured as he noticed the way both boys were gleeful. They were holding hands, sharing shy looks and rosy cheeks.

Dr. Banner walked further into the exam room, fiddling with the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Hi boys,” he greeted with the slightest tilt of his head. He nodded to Peter, receiving a ‘hello’ from the teen in return. He stopped a few feet away from the table and held out his hand for a shake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Harley,” he said as the boy grasped his hand. “Mind if I sit?” the man asked both boys, gesturing to the stool Peter had sat on.

The teen jumped from his seat, choosing to settle on the table next to Harley instead, inviting Bruce to take his place in front of both highschoolers. He could not be more grateful that Harley was sitting on the exam table, willingly , and waiting patiently for it to be over. The boy was braver than he would know, but Bruce would never forget just how big a step this was.

The doctor had a few disclaimers to begin with, before proceeding with anything. “I do want to make it clear that I’m not a medical doctor. I have 7 PhDs, but not one in medicine.”

Harley turned confusedly towards Peter, who just gave him a tight-lipped smile and a slight nod of the head.

“That said,” Bruce continued. “I’ve spent my fair share of time in India helping out, more often medically than not.”

Peter let his smile grow a little wider as he saw Harley relax a little more, already being put at ease in this somewhat unconventional situation. They slipped their hands into one another’s, intertwining their fingers like they’d thought of doing so many times before.

Bruce’s face merely softened at the kindnesses they shared. He got himself back on track and started explaining the different steps they’d go through to ensure Harley was healthy, and treat any injuries properly.

“Would you be okay with that?” Bruce asked after enumerating what the check-up would entail.

“Yeah,” Harley replied, managing to crack a smile. He gripped Peter’s hand a little tighter under the impending stress.

“Let’s get started, then,” Banner announced, rolling his stool away and preparing himself.

Peter gave Harley a reassuring smile, getting up from the table. Harley squeezed Peter's hands, a look of fear coming over his face.

“You’re leaving?” he asked apprehensively, his eyes flitting across the room and landing on the door.

Peter took in the look on his partner’s face. There was no way he was leaving Harley with someone who he barely knew, especially not with the sensitive topic they’d be going over. “I’m staying, hun. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t let go of Harley’s hand, but pulled over a nearby chair to sit on, allowing the other boy to take up as much space on the table as he’d like. Harley couldn’t help but chuckle at the nickname, a foolproof way of calming him down that only Peter could execute so perfectly.

Bruce swivelled back over to the kids and then they began the exam.

It went far better than Harley had expected. Dr. Banner took the time to explain every single step prior to doing it, even making small talk about mundane things like Harley’s favorite foods, where he thought of going to college, and what kind of science he liked best.

“Robotics, huh?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m more of a chemistry and biology man, myself. I’ve been meaning to broaden my horizons, though. We should work on a project together sometime,” he offered wholeheartedly.

Peter sat silent on the side, watching them talk and get to know each other. Harley didn’t seem uncomfortable at all, despite the overly thorough check-up taking place in between chit chats. Peter couldn’t have asked for a better person to take care of his boyfriend. He made mental notes of the answers Harley gave, doing his best to remember that shepherd’s pie was his favorite meal, and that he loved thunderstorms most.

They finished the main exam, and Harley was given ice to help with the bruises on his abdomen. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to check out, while we’re here?” Dr. Banner inquired, filling up a medical file with the findings so far.

Harley shook his head, smiling timidly. Peter narrowed his brows at the other teen, knowing something was wrong. “He had a fever last night,” Peter proclaimed.

That seemed to properly get Bruce’s attention. “Yeah? Do you have any other symptoms?”

Harley seemed thrown by the question. He hadn’t thought anyone would notice, let alone care that he had a fever. Back in Tennessee, he would’ve been told to suck it up and not let his grades slip, no matter how sick he might’ve felt. To think that Peter had felt the fever, taken note of it, and bothered to mention it now was seriously mind-blowing. “What kinda symptoms?”

“Well,” Bruce began, putting the file down. “It could be anything, really. Any pain, nausea, dizziness?”

“A little, I guess,” Harley answered, rubbing his thumb along Peter’s hand nervously. “Nauseous sometimes, and my shoulder hurts, too.”

“Your shoulder?” Banner asked, approaching the boy with a thermometer in hand.

“Yeah,” Harley admitted delicately. Peter used his second hand to still Harley’s, looking at him with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Okay,” he sighed after quite a while, glancing at Peter’s optimistic face. He finally unlinked his fingers from Peter’s to take his shirt off and expose his shoulder. He was pulling it over his head when he heard his partner gasp. He quickly yanked it all the way through, giving a concerned look to his boyfriend.

“What’s wrong?” Harley asked, seeing the shocked expression on his face.

Peter was too stunned to speak, solely focused on the wound on Harley’s shoulder. 

Bruce was the one to explain the pure horror in the young man’s eyes. “Harley, how did that happen?”

Harley followed Bruce’s eyeline, realizing it led to his shoulder. He shook his head adamantly. “It’s nothing, it just hurts sometimes.”

He was lying. He didn’t want to be a burden, or to add anything onto anyone’s plate. He wouldn’t complain about his pain or waste other people’s time with his past. It didn’t matter that the stab wound had gotten infected, he would’ve rather stayed quiet. On the other hand, Peter made the quiet seem not so comfortable anymore; Harley wanted to be loud, and happy, and healthy, with Peter.

“How bad does the pain get?” Bruce asked, wondering how it truly hadn’t become unbearable. The sight alone was sickening, he couldn’t imagine how it felt. “On a scale from 1 to 10?”

“It’s nothing but a 4 most of the time-”

“4?” Peter piped up. “You’ve been in pain this entire time?”

“It’s not that bad, I’ve gotten used to it over the last week.”

Bruce put a pair of gloves on, rolling his stool to be right near Harley’s injured shoulder. “What did you do to close the wound?”

Harley remembered just how much the cut had bled when it was first inflicted. Aside from the searing pain, it was gushing out what Harley could only assume to be pints and pints of blood. He knew he had to stop the bleeding, or he would die right then and there. It had been a stupid decision, really, but the only thing available was either staples, which he really wouldn’t have enjoyed, or-

“Superglue.”

It most definitely wasn’t the answer Bruce had been expecting, but it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Superglue was relatively similar to the medical-grade stuff they kept on hand at the Tower, so it wasn’t completely unbelievable. The job had been done hastily, and probably in a more painful way than it should’ve. Banner couldn’t believe that this child had superglued a stab wound shut, seemingly by himself, and then proceeded to hide it from everyone, even after escaping the abusive situation. That took way more guts than he had the stomach for.

Dr. Banner cleaned the wound, using acetone to remove the superglue that held it shut. He stitched up the cut, making sure to bandage it properly to facilitate a speedy recovery. He passed 2 pills and a glass of water to Harley, the boy taking it cautiously.

“What is this?” he asked, inspecting the little white tablets in his hand.

“Cephalexin and ibuprofen,” Bruce responded. “An antibiotic to treat the infection, and ibuprofen to help with the fever and pain.”

The teen swallowed both pills, looking nervously every now and again to his boyfriend who had stayed quiet since learning of Harley’s constant aching.

“Don’t strain your shoulder too much, alright? It needs time to heal, just take it easy.”

“I’ll make sure he takes it slow,” Peter said, clasping his pinkie finger with Harley’s. It was the first time he’d spoken in about 15 minutes. He was just relieved that Harley was safe now, and that he would heal. Peter would be right there to make sure it happened correctly.

“Thank you, Dr. Banner,” Harley said, his face pulling into a timid smile.

Both boys walked out of the room, hand in hand, side by side. Harley felt a little uneasy, not sure what to do with a near-mute Peter. The other teen was always bouncing off the walls, giggling louder than should be allowed, tinkering and making new creations that had no true purpose but to be pleasant and funny.

Peter broke the silence in the elevator they’d entered. He figured it was a safe space for him to talk, one where Harley wouldn’t be inclined to lie.

“Are you okay?” he asked prudently, catching Harley’s eyes.

“We just spent over an hour making sure I was okay, darlin’,” the teen replied, cautiously turning himself to face his boyfriend.

“Is there anything you didn’t tell Dr. Banner about?” Peter questioned, looking into Harley’s eyes.

“No,” he murmured, staring right back at the other boy. “I’m really okay, now.”

Peter didn’t doubt that Harley was telling the truth, everything in him, from his eyes, to his body language; it all pointed towards this being true. He took the opportunity to make a step forward and wrap his arms around Harley.

They stayed encased in their embrace until the elevator stopped moving. It lasted longer than either of them thought it would. FRIDAY was known for being too smart for her own good, it wasn’t entirely out of the question that she’d slowed the ride to give them more time together.

The ride stopped at the penthouse, where they got off and headed towards the kitchen first. A midday snack was definitely in order after this exciting morning they’d had.

They found Tony sitting at the island, a concerned glint in his eyes. He immediately sat up straighter the second he saw the boys approaching. He didn’t speak, but he kept opening and closing his mouth, as if he meant to do so, but chose to remain quiet. He seemed to have finally settled on speaking, he took a breath, and-

“Before you ask,” Peter said, cutting off Tony’s momentum. “We went to Dr. Banner, got everything checked out. He’s fine and will continue to be, as long as you leave him alone .”

Peter circled the island, dragging Harley along by the fingertips. They opened cupboard after cupboard, searching for the perfect treat. Tony could only watch them in awe, seeing how closely they stood next to each other, how they laughed and threw snacks at one another without a care in the world, even in these conditions.

Harley felt the need to change his clothes, after spending the entirety of yesterday, last night and half of today in them, it was more of a necessity than ever. He whispered that into Peter’s ear, slipping away towards his bedroom.

“Look, kid-” Tony tried, placing his hands on the island.

“I told you to stop calling me kid,” Peter said, not turning himself around from the cupboard he was ravaging.

“Why, Peter, what did I-”

“Because I’m no one’s kid!” he snapped. “You made that abundantly clear.”

Peter hadn’t done anything wrong in his life. He was raised right by his parents, up until they died. He hadn’t deserved that, but it had happened nonetheless. Then, he was taken in by May and Ben, who were the greatest aunt and uncle he could’ve ever asked for, despite the lack of money they suffered. They had more fun than most families probably did, but that didn’t feel the same way after Ben was killed. A second father figure, another family member, gone in the blink of an eye. He’d finally found a new person that cared about him like a father loved a son, and somehow, someway, Tony had also managed to fuck up their relationship and use this very situation against him.

Tony could only stare back at the teen. He had never meant to hurt him this way. He was angry, and irritated, and his patience had worn so thin that it snapped. Tony had just been worried about Harley. He hadn’t seen the kid, he hadn’t checked in on him in person since they’d met. If he had only been there for him, then he might’ve stopped it before it became this bad.

It didn’t occur to him until it was too late that in worrying about Harley, he’d indirectly neglected Peter at a time that was sensitive to all of them. Peter was the only other person in the Tower that had gotten close to Harley. They’d spent so much time together, they’d inevitably created a bond that was stronger than he could’ve initially expected. Surely, the news that Harley had been abused had been hard for Peter to take. It just didn’t make sense that the boy hadn’t said anything to Tony about it. Didn’t he want the best for Harley?

“Pete, I was just worried about Harley,” Tony explained heavily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“But you did,” Peter responded, imitating what Tony had said during the fight that started this new war. He turned around and stared Tony in the face, keeping his back straight in an attempt to intimidate his mentor.

“I’m sorry.”

“Of course you’re sorry,” Peter said, practically disgusted. “You don’t get to boss me around like a puppy anymore.”

“No, Peter,” Tony said, standing up from his seat at the table. “I’m sorry for what I said in the heat of the moment.”

It tortured Peter to have to decide how to treat Tony. The apology seemed sincere, and yet he had been in this exact same position before. If Peter had trusted him then, what reason did he have to trust him now, with the obvious proof showing that Tony didn’t hold up his end of any bargain, not even an apology.

”You’ve said sorry before,” Peter claimed, knowing it was true. “Why wouldn’t you just lie again?”

Tony would’ve been insulted if it hadn’t been exactly what had happened. There was no exaggeration, no extrapolation. He had apologized specifically for pushing him away, and he had said that Peter meant more to him than that. Where did all that go when he was yelling at Peter that he didn’t have a father?

“I don’t want to be mad at you, but I can’t keep trusting you,” Peter mumbled, bringing his glance down to his shoes. “Just- Give me time.”

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, moving to join Harley in his bedroom. The boys spent the afternoon together, and then the evening, just being with one another.

They parted when they went to sleep, Peter leaving the penthouse to get to his quarters. The quiet elevator ride reminded him of where they’d been that very morning. It reminded him of what Harley had been through.

And that’s when his mind started running.

Chapter Text

Peter hadn’t truly processed what Harley had suffered. He couldn’t even begin to imagine just how painful his entire childhood had been. His upbringing was nothing short of horrible, and he probably hadn’t even realized just how badly it had affected him.

The elevator stopped moving, but Peter’s brain had been set on a very specific course. It was destined to become dark and twisty, and not surface for air in a long time.

Peter stood frozen in the lift.

How could he not have noticed? How hadn’t he connected the dots? Why didn’t he know just how badly his boyfriend had suffered?

This wasn’t a friend, this wasn’t an acquaintance. This was the person he loves. The person he knew he would do anything for, and he didn’t even bother to ask how he’s been feeling? Peter was a terrible person. He was arrogant for not asking. He was inconsiderate for not taking the time to talk more in-depth about Harley’s boundaries and how he used to live. He was thoughtless for not doing more to make Harley feel at home in the Tower. Most of all, he was proposterously idiotic for getting in fights with Tony and creating a ridiculous tension between the three of them.

The elevator doors closed in front of him, but he didn’t care enough to move or click a button to open them back up. An overwhelming feeling of grief washed over the teen. He mourned for every bad decision he made, and every better outcome that could’ve been. Had he just been move observant, he thought, Harley wouldn’t have been in this much pain for this long.

Peter didn’t do anything, except cry. For minutes on end, his shoulders jerked as every ounce of sadness and frustration left him. He sobbed alone in the lift, aggressive tears flowing down his cheeks, mixing into the snot from his nose. His sweater sleeves were practically drenched as he wiped his face endlessly. 

The elevator started moving again, but Peter barely registered it. He was too preoccupied with the existential torment happening in his mind to notice that he’d changed floors, and that the doors were opening.

“Peter? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Two arms grabbed his shoulders, holding him steady. He hadn’t realized that he was swaying left and right. Peter fought to keep the tears at bay and focus his sight on the person before him.

“Peter. Talk to me.”

The boy tried to stop his crying, but all his efforts seemed to be in vain. His breaths were ragged, and his eyes were more puffy than they’d been since Ben died. The person got down on one knee, levelling themselves to be lower than Peter. They kept their grip on the teen’s arms, instructing him to take deep breaths.

They breathed together, slowing down Peter’s racing thoughts in the process. It took a few minutes, but they eventually got the hang of things.

Peter wiped his eyes once more, finally freeing his vision from any and all blurriness. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Barnes,” he mumbled through sniffles.

“Kid,” the man sighed. “You have got to start calling me Bucky.” He stood up, guiding the boy out of the lift and onto the common floor that Bucky had been on when he called the elevator.

They walked to the nearest couch, sitting on it side by side. Peter kept looking down, not wanting to face one of the greatest war heroes in history and tell him how he feels. God, how stupid would that be.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, staring at the highschooler in front of him very attentively.

Was Peter really supposed to explain that he had just realized how traumatic his boyfriend’s childhood had been, and that led to a breakdown in an elevator? That seemed incredibly ridiculous of him to say, but he felt like Bucky wasn’t going to just ignore what he had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry Mr- Bucky. I just got overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” Bucky asked, leaning forward in his seat to face the boy better.

“Yeah. It’s just- Harley didn’t have the easiest time growing up. It just made me.. sad?”

Peter could barely justify his own thoughts. Explaining them to someone else just made him feel incredibly dumb.

“I’m sorry, I know this sounds-”

“Hey,” Bucky said, cutting him off. “Stop apologizing, you haven’t done anything wrong. You’re empathizing with a friend.”

Peter looked up at Bucky for the first time since they were standing in the lift. He was still sniffling every now and then, but it had died down quite a bit. He had never thought of it as empathy. Was blaming yourself a form of empathy?

“I should’ve noticed sooner,” he whispered, fidgeting with his fingers.

Bucky didn’t think it wise to inquire about the specifics of Harley’s childhood, especially considering his own past. He knew what it was like to want to keep a part of your life a secret.

“Even if you had, would it have changed anything?”

“It wouldn’t have gotten this bad!” Peter’s breathing picked up as he got more flustered.

“Kid,” Bucky said, placing a hand up to try and calm him down. “We can’t know.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, Peter catching his breath and composing himself, once more.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but ask if the other boy was okay. This entire conversation was far too cryptic for him to truly understand if the teen was okay, or if something had happened to set Peter off.

“He’s okay. I’ll make sure he is.”

The response was kind and thoughtful. It showed that Peter cared deeply about the boy he’d met a mere week ago. If he was feeling so empathic for him, if he was crying for him, feeling his pain and his troubles, then he was a better friend than most. Bucky knew that already. Peter was a better person than most.

“It’s not your fault,” he affirmed, placing a gentle hand on the kid’s knee. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t because of you. You couldn’t have stopped it.”

Bucky didn’t know much, if anything, about the situation. He did, however, know a lot about Peter. The boy beat himself up for almost everything (most of which wasn’t his fault, and was entirely out of his control.) Bucky felt pretty confident saying that it wasn’t Peter’s fault, even with the limited information he had.

Peter couldn’t respond to that. He felt a certain sense of guilt, but part of him believed Bucky. He wasn’t present when Harley’s family was treating him like shit. Lord knows if he had been there, none of this would have happened. But he wasn’t there. He didn’t even know Harley existed. It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

“You feeling any better?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes at the evident debacle taking place inside Peter’s mind.

He took a moment to answer, still fighting with himself. “Yeah, I think so.”

He met the man’s eyes, flashing him a nervous smile. They had never had a heart-to-heart like this before. Sure, they’d had a few serious conversations, but mostly they just joked around with the entire team. This was a big step for their relationship, a memory they’d both treasure without telling the other just how important this was for them.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Peter said, getting up from his seat and turning towards the elevator.

“You need a distraction, okay?” the super-soldier said, stopping Peter in his tracks. “Just don’t go to sleep with this weighing on you. Clear your head a little.”

Peter nodded thoughtfully. It was a smart suggestion, he probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep right now if he tried. He entered the lift and made his way to his quarters. He grabbed his backpack and headed to the common floor.

Geometry always had him focus, so there would be no room for thoughts of Harley and his family. Also, if he was missing school, he should at least stay on top of his assignments. So he sat at the kitchen island and started on his homework.

He did a few math assignments, then history, then chemistry. He went on and on, his eyes getting heavier with each page he filled out. Eventually, his tiredness got the better of him, and he fell asleep at the island.

***

A few hours after Peter had left him alone in his room, Harley had managed to fall asleep. This, however, wasn’t as pleasant as those nights he spent wrapped in Peter’s embrace.

His sleep was restless, and filled with images that he would’ve preferred to never have seen in the first place. He had explained to Peter all the reasons why he was nothing to be loved, and he had detailed the most treacherous parts of his life in Tennessee. Those memories had been locked away in the recesses of his brain for a reason. And now, they were set loose in his mind, and they were that much fresher to torture him.

His dreams were more akin to nightmares. Sights of his father yelling at him, or slapping him incessantly across the face. Flashes of phantom pain in his shoulder, as if he was being stabbed right now. And the cries of his little sister, begging him to save her too.

He jolted awake, pulling himself from the horrors of his subconscious. He took a few deep breaths in his bed, calming himself down.

After a few minutes to compose himself, Harley wandered through the Tower, looking for something, anything, to occupy his mind. He took an elevator ride to the common floor and headed towards the kitchen. If he was up at this hour, he might as well have a glass of water - Pepper was always pestering the ‘lab rats’ to stay hydrated.

He was greeted by an unusual sight, but one that made him scoff nonetheless. Peter Parker, hunched over mountains of homework, his laptop playing “the best songs of the best decade ever (80’s)” quietly, as his sleeping head lay flat on a chemistry textbook, pens and markers floating around the kitchen island, some even entangled in his curls. (How that happened, Harley had no clue.)

He approached the other boy slowly, grinning slightly, headed towards a cupboard and reaching for a glass. 

“What brings you to this neck of the woods, partner ?” The overexaggerated accent Peter took succeeded in coaxing a chuckle and an eye roll from Harley.

“I’m from Tennessee, not Texas. You can drop the accent, city boy .”

Now it was Peter’s turn to scoff at the nickname, despite the fondness he felt at the comment.

Harley filled his glass of water as Peter yawned the sleep away. They both put their elbows on the kitchen island, facing each other. 

“What are you doin’ up so late, darlin’?” Harley asked, his voice thick with an accent that showed far more prominently when he was tired.

Peter smiled at his boyfriend before answering, simply taking this time to appreciate the other boy while they were alone and somewhat peaceful. “Just thought I’d catch up on some homework.”

Harley laughed at the boy sitting across from him and his midnight antics. He sipped on his water whilst they conversed, not only talking about random topics, but they also managed to continue doing homework. Together. This is what happens when two nerds date each other; They wind up doing physics homework at 2am on a Tuesday morning.

After a few too many equations about falling potted plants, Harley felt it was necessary to bring up a topic he wasn’t sure how to approach. He put his hands together on the island, pulling himself away from the assignment they were piled on. 

“Hun, I have a question for you,” he started, playing with his fingers.

“Shoot,” Peter replied, a smile covering the focused expression he had on while calculating velocity and force.

Harley knew something that he probably shouldn’t. After his dissociative episode, Peter’s brief explanations hadn’t been enough to satisfy him. He wanted to know truly what had happened while he was ‘comatose.’ So, he asked FRIDAY to show him the footage of the lab when it had happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked timidly.

Peter placed his pencil down, pushing his homework out of the way. He grabbed both of Harley’s hands and looked him in the eyes. “Of course I am. What’s going on?”

This wasn’t normal behavior for Harley. Surely they didn’t know each other that well to know their every move, but from the past week’s events, Peter could tell this was different.

“I saw the fight you had with Tony.”

There’s different, and then there’s different. Peter had no clue how to react. The fight he had was just verbally violent. He didn’t need Harley to know about it. He didn’t want it to affect him.

“I’m sorry about what he said to you. He was way out of line. You don’t deserve that.”

Peter didn’t move for a solid 15 seconds. He held his breath, he didn’t blink either. Harley had just apologized for Tony’s insensitivity in an argument during which he had dissociated. That was beyond any kind of care Peter ever would’ve expected from anyone else.

“It’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. We’re not going to stand for it. Not until he apologizes and proves he’s worthy of everything good you have to give.”

Harley wasn’t going to budge on this. He wouldn’t let anyone disrespect his boyfriend, let alone to this extent. It was extremely disgusting of Tony to use Peter’s trauma against him in such a cruel way. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since his dad died, and it certainly doesn’t matter how mad Tony was. Harley would do anything and everything in his power to take care of Peter. If that meant shutting Tony out until they were sure his intentions were pure, then Harley would perfect his silent treatment.

“Okay,” Peter replied with a hint of a smile. He had the most perfect boyfriend, and he would never take that for granted.

They laughed the serious discussion off until Peter’s stomach started growling. The teen would’ve looked through the many cupboards and fridges of the common floor kitchen, but he had a craving for something far too specific to find laying around in the back of a pantry shelf.

“Hey, doll? You feel like making cookies with me?”

****

The boys made a mess of the kitchen. Again. Peter hadn’t been craving just any kind of cookie, specifically rocky road cookies.

So, they had rummaged through the myriad of pantries and found all the ingredients they needed to create their desired treat. After spilling about two cups of flour on the kitchen island, they did manage to finish the recipe.

They put on some music about three minutes into their baking, realizing the silence would be more uncomfortable than serene. It was one of Peter’s absolute favorite playlists, one jam-packed with songs from the 40s and 50s. He had curated it with Steve and Bucky, in an attempt to bargain with them to listen to Taylor Swift. 

They placed the balls of cookie dough on a baking sheet and into the oven. The wait might’ve been awkward, but Peter didn’t leave enough time for them to squirm and rant about the most fascinating parts of mathematics.

A few seconds after placing the cookies in the oven, the best song on the playlist started playing. Peter knew it was one of Steve’s favorites, and it definitely had become one of his. “It’s been a long, long time.”

Peter almost instantly turned towards his partner. “Would you care to dance?”

Harley could only chuckle in response, grabbing Peter’s waist to start swaying along to the music. The other boy reached up to grab Harley’s neck, following his lead.

They slowly swayed around the whole room, Peter occasionally being twirled around in a fit of laughter. FRIDAY must’ve caught onto their desperate desire to stay in that moment forever, because the song looped more times than Peter would’ve thought to do on his own. Eventually, the volume of the song died down and they ended up with Harley’s back pressed against the island.

Peter lifted Harley off the floor by his hips and sat him on the countertop, much to the latter’s protesting. “Hey! You have super strength, that’s totally unfair.”

“Yeah? Well, life ain’t fair, darlin’ ,” Peter quipped back, taking on a Southern - and mocking - lilt for the pet name. The corners of his lips quirked upwards in that signature smirk he so often adorned around his “best friend.”

“My pants are covered in flour now, thanks a lot for that.” 

Harley’s comeback wasn’t as strong as they usually are, his voice dangerously close to wavering, but who could blame him? Their faces were mere inches apart, no wonder he was distracted.

Harley could’ve easily moved away, or dropped down from the counter, but staring into the brown eyes of one Peter Parker proved to be enough to make him stay put.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Peter said, looking right back at Harley’s emerald eyes.

“I love you too,” Harley requited.

He lowered his head, meeting Peter’s height and pressed their lips together. The kiss was soft, gentle. It was perfect. Perfection.

Peter’s stomach filled with butterflies instantly. The second they kissed, it was like fireworks went off all around him, and simultaneously it felt like the whole world stopped. There was nothing else he was thinking about, just the love that he had for Harley, and that Harley had for him.

Harley couldn’t have been happier. He could finally show Peter how he felt, to its fullest extent. His love wasn’t just words, it wasn’t just hypothetical. It was real, and it was so incredible. Their kiss was just a show of their combined passions for one another. It was the most beautiful moment that Harley had ever been a part of, and he’d never forget just how amazing he felt when he kissed Peter.

Their first kisses, and they had been about as perfect as they come.

Harley used to think he was brought into this world to give more love than he could ever receive. He had been talked down to, and cast aside for the majority of his life. He was put second by everyone, no matter how hard he tried and how caring he was. It seemed as though there was nothing he could possibly do to be on the receiving end of a relationship.

Except now, with Peter. Peter bloody Parker had taken it upon himself to single handedly dismantle that idea in Harley’s head. He was no longer sure if he would forever be second-best, if he would be a bystander til the day he died.

Because now, he had Peter. A kind Peter, who would give him whatever he asked for at the drop of a hat. A considerate Peter, who thought about knocking before entering his room, and announcing himself when knocking wasn’t available. A thoughtful Peter, who put effort and care into dates with Harley, no matter how impromptu they might be. And, of course, a loving Peter, who made sure that Harley felt safe, and valued, and appreciated at all hours of the day and night.

It was like the movies; a picture perfect romance. Harley wasn’t even thinking about what might happen if Peter were to leave. He was too wrapped up in the other boy’s arms to conceive anything other than love for the two of them.

A love that surpassed anything either of them had ever felt before.

Chapter Text

Natasha knocked softly on Maria’s door, announcing her arrival. “Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorway, not wanting to intrude in her girlfriend’s office, especially not when they were in hot water.

Maria looked over her laptop screen at her, sparing her just a few seconds of her time before promptly starting to type again. “Hey,” she responded belatedly.

“Can we talk?” Natasha asked, knocking aimlessly on the doorway to occupy her hands.

Maria stopped typing, weighing her options. She loved her more than words could express, but what she had said, the way she had acted… It didn’t represent the person she loved, it was a bad side that Nat had worked so hard to work through.

“Have a seat,” Maria offered, closing her computer and crossing her arms.

Natasha did as asked and chose to stay quiet for a moment more. She didn’t know what to say except ‘ sorry,’ but that just sounded far too tame for the amount of regret she was feeling. A sick sense of remorse was sitting deep within her chest, and she had to tell her girlfriend just how right she had been, and just how badly Harley had been treated.

She raised her eyes to meet those of Maria, and when their gazes crossed, something inside Nat snapped. Her eyes started to water despite her efforts to stop them, and she had to look away before any vulnerability could be seen.

It was like every bad thing that she’d ever done suddenly flashed in front of her eyes. She should have seen the signs, she should have connected the dots. Harley had panic attacks, he was kicked out, he was avoiding the questions. Yes, it might’ve seemed a little shady, but the kid wasn’t a spy. She only saw what she wanted to see, and that was one of the cruelest things she’s ever done. She was in his shoes once. A child, scared, alone, hurt. She would’ve done anything for a parental figure, even just a helping hand. She had the possibility to be that person for Harley, and she deliberately chose to hurt him further instead. She could never forgive herself for that. How could Maria?

“I’m sorry,” Nat mumbled, exhaling a sharp and shaky breath. She stood up, still avoiding Maria’s eyes at all costs. She brought her hand up to her face to catch the falling tears and hide her quivering lip. She glanced at the doorway, thinking this might have been just embarrassing enough to warrant her escape.

“Hey,” Maria called softly. “Please sit.”

The laptop had been put aside, leaving only an empty desk between both lovers. Natasha stayed standing for a few more seconds, unsure whether she was still up for this conversation, but she eventually relented.

“I’m really sorry for what I said to Harley,” Natasha confessed, more precisely. She kept looking at her hands, intertwining her fingers over and over again. She felt like a child being reprimanded, while also feeling like the shittiest parent ever who just learned their kid is in the hospital because of food poisoning from their own meal. It was her own fault that the kid was in pain, and she had to accept that.

“I know,” Maria said, reaching her hand out on the desk for her girlfriend to take. “It’s going to be okay.”

Maria’s comfort was worth more than anything else in the world. Even when Natasha didn’t deserve it, she was right there with a shoulder to cry on. Which is exactly what happened next.

Natasha took Maria’s hand and melted into tears. This gnawing feeling in her gut had found its way out, and she could barely breathe through the immense guilt she felt. She had always wanted to be a mother, and she had the opportunity now to be a surrogate mother/aunt for Peter, but she’d given up that chance with Harley over a stupid hunch.

Maria stood up from her seat and rushed to her girlfriend’s side, keeping their hands linked. Soft rubs into Nat’s back were the best comfort she could give. The wrinkles on her shirt would be intense at the end of the day, but at least their emotions would be in check.

“I talked to him,” Natasha managed to say after catching her breath. Crying wasn’t just exhausting, it also made breathing quite a bit more difficult. “I apologized.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was on about. Maria didn’t seem to pay attention to the comment. Whether she already knew, or didn’t care about the information wasn’t clear, but it didn’t change the way she cared for her girlfriend.

“You did the right thing,” Maria said, putting strands of hair behind Natasha’s ears. “You followed your gut, and when it was wrong, you admitted it.”

Natasha didn’t want to talk about how stubbornly she’d resisted believing the truth. She had accepted it now, and she had apologized. She was in pieces over this, and if that didn’t signify true sincerity, then nothing would.

They broke apart after a few dozen minutes of their embrace. It was draining for Natasha, and it was for Maria too, in a way. They were better now, and Nat had fixed things with Harley, too. It had taken a lot, especially to admit that she was wrong, but she had done it.

And now things were okay.

Breakfast with the team proved difficult the next morning.

The boys had opted to start their day off with the rest of the Avengers on the common floor. It had taken a few too many minutes for Peter to drag Harley down from the penthouse, but it had definitely been worth it to spend more time with the team.

They joined the others right as Natasha was finishing the first (humongous) stack of pancakes. 

“Hands off,” she scolded, swatting Sam and Bucky’s hands away from the plate. “Wanda, yours are ready.”

“Why does she get them first?” Sam asked, offended that his appetite wasn’t being quenched.

“Ladies first,” Nat replied, smiling at Wanda first, then her girlfriend who sat nearby. She waved her spatula instead of her hand when she saw the teenagers approach, greeting them.

A few of the others turned around, sending them hello’s as well. The boys sat themselves at the table, holding hands underneath it.

“You boys know anything about the cookies that magically appeared overnight?” Bruce asked, sipping on his cup of tea.

“Cookies?” Peter asked, a smile making its way onto his face, despite his efforts to maintain a poker face.

“My guess is rocky road,” Sam said in the middle of swallowing a bite of the delicacy. The man didn’t seem perturbed in the least about the astronomical amount of crumbs that he was leaving on the countertop.

“Nope,” Harley responded, feeling his hands get warmer. “We have no clue about the cookies.”

“Well, whoever this mystery ghost is, they make a kickass cookie.”

At least Sam was happy. Harley, however, was desperately trying to hide his blushing cheeks. He smirked guiltily at his partner, holding back a giggle. It was getting harder to hide their love for the amount of joy they were sharing at being together all the time.

They finished their meal together, sharing laughs with the rest of their far-too-extended family. The teens excused themselves afterwards, saying they had business to attend to in the lab. Prior to actually getting to the lab, they thought to ask FRIDAY whether or not their favorite billionaire would be there.

“ Mr. Stark is currently sleeping in the penthouse. Would you like me to call him to the lab?”

“No!” the boys said in unison. They didn’t exactly desire to see the man just yet. Peter hadn’t been particularly fond of the last few conversations he’d entertained with him. Harley wasn’t personally attacked, but he cared more about Peter than the other boy seemed to care about himself. God, selfless people really sucked. (P.s. Harley is also a selfless person.)

They walked into the lab, laughing far too loudly. They definitely took advantage of being alone to share their joy with the whole world. Being around the others wasn’t the same, but when it was just the both of them, life seemed that much brighter.

“Hey,” Peter said, sitting himself on top of their worktable. “We should tell the team!”

Harley’s smile of joy and wonder immediately dampened at the words that came out of Peter’s mouth. “What?”

“About us! We should tell everyone!”

Peter was being serious? He wanted to tell the team about them ? He seemed genuinely excited about telling everyone. The sky was the limit for the amount of people who would know that Peter Parker and Harley Keener were dating.

And that was terrifying.

The last time Harley had told anyone about his sexuality, things had taken a very dark turn, very quickly. He didn’t want a repeat of that, he would avoid it at all costs. He couldn’t just say no, that would crush Peter. It would probably also make it seem like he was ashamed of his boyfriend, which is as far from the truth as one could get. Peter wasn’t the problem, not in the least, but his excitement and openness was becoming more of an issue with every passing second.

His entire world had been turned upside down from the second he had announced to his parents that he was gay. There was no telling what would happen now. There was an exponentially larger amount of people to tell now, and that could only lead to worse things. His mind was twisted with images of his past. The month spent in a shed, and the suffering he’d endured afterwards. All of it was something he never wanted to restart.

Peter noticed the reluctancy in Harley’s traits; his eyebrows crinkled just a little, and his mouth turned into a frown. “Or not, if you’d prefer?” Peter offered, not wanting to pressure his boyfriend into anything he wasn’t 100% okay with. He knew the subject had to be sensitive because of what happened with his family, but he hadn’t thought it would still apply to the Avengers. Their entire job was to make the world a better place, a more accepting place. Peter didn’t fully understand Harley’s doubts, seeing as Sam and Bucky were together very openly, and Natasha and Maria were the same. Everyone was accepting, there was an incredible amount of proof to back that up.

“I’m just not ready,” Harley admitted.

“That’s okay.” Peter was quick to reassure his lover. “We can definitely try to hide it, but I just don’t want to slip up.”

His concern seemed genuine. He would never do anything to purposefully hurt Harley, but it was a definite possibility if they tried to keep their love a secret for much longer. Holding hands underneath the kitchen table was great, but nothing could beat kissing each other passionately in the middle of the living room, a soft song playing in the background, and gentle rain pattering on the windows. It was a scene they could only dream of, and they both knew it wouldn’t come to be unless they were honest with the rest of the team.

Harley stood his ground, more fearful about a bad outcome than hopeful for a good one. He promised Peter that he would let him know as soon as his mind was made up. 

“Just me and you is enough for now.”

“Tony, you have to wake up.”

He really didn’t want to. The last few days had been hell. Sleeping was his last escape from the horror that his life had turned out to be.

One kid wasn’t speaking to him. Another was hurt and hadn’t told him. At least Natasha wasn’t on his ass anymore about Harley’s ‘secret plans to destroy the Avengers and kill us all.’

“Tony,” Pepper scolded as she pulled the covers from the bed. “You have to get up.”

He merely grunted in response, already longing for the warmth of his dreams and the blankets he used to be buried under. “What time is it?” he asked, his face still squished into a pillow.

“12 past 2,” Pepper answered, dropping the linens on the floor.

“In American?”

“2:12pm.”

His heartbeat picked up slightly at the answer. He knew he’d slept in, but this seemed to be a whole other story. His concern wore thin very quickly, though, as he just dropped himself back onto the bare bed. He had no care for this day, or any, for that matter.

He would’ve loved to be left alone, but he knew Pepper wouldn’t allow for that. She wasn’t blind to what had been going on. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she had most definitely noticed the changes in his behavior. He used to take every single chance he got to brag about Peter, or Harley in the past few weeks. The last couple of days, however, had been tainted with silence. They ate quietly, and he hadn’t opened up when Pepper had given him the opportunity to do so.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her mind was already milling about the millions of tasks she had to accomplish for work, but her fiancé wasn’t acting like his normal self, and hadn’t for days. This wasn’t something that could be solved while she was working, she had to take matters into her own hands, on her own time.

Of course, in true Stark fashion, he denied anything being wrong. It was a bad move, really, because Pepper knew he’d try it. “It’s about the boys. What’s wrong?”

Well, it was too specific now to try and lie. “I said some things,” Tony said, purposefully being cryptic so that Pepper might give up and leave him be. His wife-to-be, however, did not quit easily.

“What things?” she pressed, her face morphing into an expression of confusion.

“It was dumb, okay? I shouldn’t have said it, I know that. I told him that , and he still doesn’t forgive me.”

Pepper would’ve loved to have kept up with Tony’s ranting, but she just had too little information to go off of. “Honey, what did you say?”

Tony put his head between his hands, rolled over on the bed in defeat and grunted once more. “I rubbed it in Peter’s face that he didn’t have a father.”

She most certainly didn’t expect that . Tony cared for Peter like a father cared for his son. They had a bond that she previously thought unbreakable. Something was definitely wrong with the both of them for tampering with their relationship so much in so little time. They had gone over a year without a single instance of anything but joy and love, and in the span of two weeks all hell broke loose. The only difference that had occurred within the last 2 weeks was Harley moving in. This had to be settled, for all three of them.

“FRIDAY, get Peter and Harley in the penthouse, please.”

Neither of the boys had originally wanted to go to the penthouse when FRIDAY had called. After she’d informed them that Pepper had been the one to ask for them, they were more inclined to accept. Not only was she scary and powerful, but they were on great terms with her. She was Tony’s fiancée, so one might think she’d be on his side most of the time, but she was just as stubborn as he was. Which meant the teens might actually have a chance at agreeing with her, if she’d called them up to talk about recent happenings.

Which she had.

Pepper sat both highschoolers at the kitchen island and told them to stay put. Neither of them dared to say a word. She seemed stressed and harsh, they didn’t want to risk upsetting her any more. She vanished towards the bedroom and came back a minute later, dragging an overwhelmingly unhappy mechanic by the arm.

“I’ve been made aware of what’s been said these past few days,” Pepper stated, placing both hands on the countertop. “We need to establish certain things before anyone moves on from this.”

She had obviously talked more in depth about the whole debacle with Tony prior to the boys arriving, which explained why the man looked so displeased to be there. He might’ve thought the boys weren’t ready to forgive. That was exactly what Peter had said the day before.

Pepper wasn’t being mean, per se. She was just strict, determined. There was nothing that could possibly come between her and this conversation. She would fix all of Tony’s relationships today, or so help her God.

“Tony should not have gotten angry when he was speaking with you, Peter.”

For fuck’s sake, Peter! You don’t even have a father!

“I’m so sorry about what I said, Pete, you have to believe me. I didn’t mean it, I promise,” Tony pleaded, anguished over how horribly he had acted out of concern.

Peter looked his mentor in the eyes and could practically see the sincerity twinkling in them. Maybe he’d been too harsh when he said he needed time. His relationship with Tony meant a lot to the both of them, and he truly hadn’t wanted to say those words. He hadn’t meant them.

“It’s okay,” Peter said quietly, cracking his knuckles to give himself something to do. “I forgive you.”

Harley seemed to physically soften when Peter accepted the apology. He would've stood by the other boy's side if he had chosen to stay angry. Despite the feeling of resentment he would've been fueling, his love for Peter was greater than anything else. He was just happy that Peter and Tony were mending their relationship.

Pepper smiled knowing her plan was already somewhat successful. Only two more steps to go.

“Harley, no matter who asks, or how insistent they are, you do not have to talk about Tennessee.”

Get out of my house! You have no right to be here, son.

“Okay,” the boy whispered, unsure of how to respond. Despite his lack of verbal enthusiasm, he felt a great deal of relief at knowing that no one would ever ask him about his past again. And even if they did try, he would have full permission to simply deny them any information and direct them towards Pepper. It was a safety net he couldn’t be more grateful for, and would never for granted after the altercation he’d had with Natasha.

“But,” Pepper added, changing her tone to one even more serious than she’d already employed. “When someone gets hurt, that cannot stay a secret. Under any circumstance.”

His step-father had no sympathy after what he had done.

He had stabbed his own step-son.

All three boys stayed quiet. They had all done it before. Pepper was well aware. It just couldn’t continue this way. It was far too dangerous for their safety, and she’d be damned if one of them died because they were too stupid to admit to being hurt.

“This applies to both physical and emotional injuries. If you’re hurting, you have to tell someone. It doesn’t have to be me or Tony, it can be any Avenger, any SHIELD agent. Just tell someone, and they can get you help.”

Pepper over exaggerated every single word in the last sentence, making herself very clear. No one was to be in pain under this roof. She would make sure they all adhered to that rule.

“Am I clear?” she asked, prompting them all to promise they’d abide by the one request she’s ever made.

They all said yes in succession, and then they were settled.

Peter knew deep down that Tony had only been overly scared about Harley. Fear makes your brain go crazy with chemicals and hormones and he wasn’t controlling what he was saying. He truly didn’t mean to hurt Peter.

Harley was well aware that questions about Tennessee might never stop, but he felt so valid now. It was a very painful memory for him to tap into, and he’d forever prefer to forget it. Having someone tell him it's okay to say no was more than a miracle.

And now everyone knew that they weren’t burdens when they were hurt. It was a part of life that happened, and that should be dealt with properly. The faster you take care of an injury, the less painful it is, and the less of a pain it is to fix. Had Harley admitted right off the bat that he was hurt, the wound might not have gotten infected, and he might’ve spent far less time recovering.

This conversation had been crucial to their well-being, both individually and as a family.

Thank God for Pepper.

Chapter Text

Peter and Harley headed towards the lab. They were just a hop, skip and a jump away from it, and decided it’d be the best use of their time. They hadn’t truly allowed themselves to indulge in the fun of schematics and welding in days. It was about time that they were alone together with the endless supply of metal.

Peter, however, didn’t purely have innocent intentions. He did want to spend time with his boyfriend, but spending time in the lab wasn’t exactly as romantic as he was hoping. It would’ve been a little too on-the-nose for him to just ask Harley on a date, so he had to be a little more sneaky than that.

He had FRIDAY pull up a couple dozen blueprints and project them over their workstation. The blue glow contrasted nicely with the golden rays of a late november afternoon. It was a pretty show of shadows and light, reflecting beautifully on the white walls and the large windows.

“Hey, hun?” Peter called, looking across the semi-transparent projection. “Mind getting a jump start on these projects? I really want to go talk to some of the team really quick.”

Harley found it a little intriguing, especially that Peter wasn’t inviting him to come along with him. They were always attached at the hip, and he definitely didn’t mind spending all their days together. This just seemed a little out of the ordinary.

But, Peter was an Avenger. Maybe he had some serious business to attend to that Harley couldn’t be privy to. He just had to suck it up and deal with a few minutes without his loverboy.

“Yeah, sure, darlin’,” he answered, forcing a small smile onto his face.

“Thanks babe,” Peter said, kissing his partner’s cheek as he left the room at a slightly faster pace than normal.

Once he was out of sight, and out of mind, Peter took off at a run . He had to make a three course meal, prepare the perfect mood, set up a movie, music, and atmosphere, all in a time-span that’s inconspicuous. Was it impossible? No. Was it highly unlikely and improbable? Yes.

Peter was Spider-Man, he could do this. It was just one date. So he got to work.

He rushed to the kitchen, bumping into two super-soldiers on the way there, but too focused on his mission to care. He shot them a quick apology, not sparing them a single second of his precious time.

“You okay, kid?” Bucky asked, knowing the boy wasn’t exactly in a super stable mood lately.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answered dismissively, already rummaging through far too many cabinets in search of potatoes and canned corn.

“What are you doing?” Steve inquired, sharing confused looks with his friend. Peter was usually very excitable, but this was never his type of joy. He would be rambling, talking a mile a minute, not physically running around and making a mess of the kitchen just to find a few ingredients.

“Making dinner,” Peter huffed, moving onto the fridge to grab the rest of what he needed. “I have to be quick, though.”

Steve couldn’t exactly make the connections that Peter thought were obvious. This didn’t seem like normal behavior in the slightest. “Dinner for everyone? At lightning speed? Is this some internet challenge that you haven’t told me about yet?”

The last sentence made Peter laugh whilst he was running around the kitchen. “No, Mr. Rogers,” he chuckled. “Just dinner for me and Harley.”

The supersoldiers didn’t know how to react, per se. It wasn’t a bad thing that Peter was doing, but it certainly didn’t seem normal. The boy seemed happy enough, though. And, despite the warp-speed at which he was moving, he had things (mostly) under control.

“Is there anything we can help with?” Bucky offered, looking at the kid with nothing but care.

“Um,” Peter responded, considering the options. He didn’t want to take up any of their time, and it might make the meal seem less personalized if he wasn’t the one who had made it from scratch. On the other hand, he had so little time to do everything, he could use all the help he could get. “Yeah, okay. Mr. Rogers, you can peel those potatoes, and Mr. Bucky, you could cook the ground beef.”

Steve looked over to his best friend with a “I can’t believe you got me rooked into this” look. His night could’ve been spent catching up on TV shows he’s missed out on over the years, but instead it would be helping a 16 year old cook dinner for his friend. Bucky would definitely be making this up to him later. The latter just shot him a shrug and smiled at the teenager, getting a pan ready to start his task.

Well, this task was already starting to seem more achievable. With two extra helping hands (4, technically) dinner was almost completely covered, so all he had to do now was to focus on the atmosphere.

“I’ll be right back, if either of you are done, Mr. Rogers, you’re making mashed potatoes, and Mr. Bucky, you could strain some canned corn. This shepherd’s pie needs to be perfect .”

Now, Peter had no idea how stressful it must be to propose to the love of your life, but he assumed it was something akin to what he was feeling at the moment. He was terrified that this date wouldn’t be good enough for his other half. This would be their first official date, and if it didn’t live up to both of their expectations, then it would set a horrible precedent for the rest of their relationship.

Harley’s examples of love hadn’t been stellar. His divorced parents, his step-father and mother barely speaking to each other, apart from asking the other for cigarettes. Peter had to make things right, and he had to show Harley what true love looked like; what their love should and would be.

The blur that moved from the common floor kitchen to the elevator, caught a ride to the living quarters, and rushed into Peter’s room was the boy himself. He decided his room would be the perfect place. It held memories of when they first opened up to each other, the place where their bond grew to its fullest extent. It was the room that held their hearts. It was only fitting it be where they shared their first date.

Peter decided the music should also be a reflection of a moment that he thought was vital to their relationship. Their first kiss. He asked FRIDAY to play “It’s been a long, long time” and, lovely as she is, FRIDAY did so heartily. Harry James was playing softly in the background, just loud enough to grace their ears with a beautiful melody, crafted with pure love, and a kind heart.

It would’ve been satisfactory for most people, but for Peter, being a perfectionist bisexual with ADHD, it was not. The lighting was completely wrong. His quarters had a window that led out onto the city. It was a pretty scene, usually, but it definitely wouldn’t do for a first date. The harsh glares that the city’s tumultuous billboards cast were not the best accompaniment for Peter’s romantic and charming dinner-date. He resorted to bringing the blinds down over his window to block out the unwanted lighting from the ever-bright NYC. To compensate for the lack of brightness in his room now, Peter wasn’t sure how to proceed. There was always the main light that he could use, but that didn’t help the mood much more than the skyscrapers did.

“FRIDAY? Is there anything you can do to make it just a little brighter in here?”

And that was the exact second that Peter realized FRIDAY could dim any lights she wanted to. God that would’ve been helpful to know sooner. At least now he had some atmospheric lights, and a pretty tune playing pleasantly.

All that was left now was to add a little fun to their date. A meal was nice and all, but it could get boring after a minute or two. A movie however, priceless. It just begged the question: which ? They had already watched two movies together, and part of a tv show. A rom-com musical, an animated family comedy, and a very comedic sitcom. The only common part about all the above was comedy, so Peter felt it best to stick to their strengths. There was one that had come out recently. He hadn’t seen it in theatres with May, but he’d wanted to.

“Hey Fri? Do you think you have Kingsman ready to watch?”

“ Which Kingsman movie would you like to view, Mr. Parker?” FRIDAY asked, prompting confusion among the teenager.

That’s right, it was the sequel that had just been released. It would be the logical choice to see the first movie first. You have to start at the beginning, right?

“Um, the first one?” Peter replied, hoping the overly sophisticated algorithm would do the rest and that she’d set up the movie he desired.

“ Of course, Mr. Parker.”

Perfect. The ambiance was set, the movie was picked, the dinner was-

Oh shit, he forgot that he hadn’t finished dinner.

He thanked FRIDAY for her help, rushing back towards the common floor to help the hundred year old men complete the meal.

Peter made it into the kitchen and found the canned corn strained, the ground beef cooked, and the potatoes mashed. It certainly hadn’t felt like he’d been gone long enough for Steve to peel potatoes, boil them, and mash them, but Peter wouldn’t complain at all. Along with the prepared food, there was a note left on the countertop.

Hope your dinner goes well. He better like shepherd’s pie, or this was a huge waste of time.

Have fun, kid.

The note itself wasn’t emotional, and most people would think Peter was crazy to feel his eyes water at it. Except the sentiment was overwhelming. It was a joke, but it was made by Bucky and Steve, and it was kind-hearted. This was the kind of support he’d always dreamt of, and it was just as rewarding as he hoped it would be.

Peter quickly assembled the pie, shoving it into the oven to broil the top of the mashed potatoes. It had already past the point of ‘inconspicuous’ but he was in too deep to pull back now. He waited just a few minutes for the potatoes to turn a golden color, topping the dish off with some chives and moving it to his quarters.

He finalized the scene, putting the finishing touches on the perfect date. It was time to go fetch his boyfriend. What a wreck Peter was.

“Hey darling,” he said as he walked into the lab, retrieving his lover. “You got a second?”

“Hun, where the hell have you been?” Harley asked, not oblivious to the frankly concerning amount of time for which he was left alone in the lab. “You leaving your man for someone else?”

“No!” Peter was quick to shout, already scared out of his mind that he had jeopardized his relationship. “I was just making dinner. More than just dinner, actually,” he murmured, rather cryptically. “You ready for a dinner-date?”

Harley’s faced twisted into a smile, completely unbelieving that Peter had prepared an entire date for them in such a short time-span, again . Harley really had to up his game if he was to keep up. “Date?”

“Yeah,” Peter beamed, shining brighter than the biggest star.

“Lead the way, doll.”

They made their way to Peter’s room, the boy blushing harder with every passing second, and Harley’s anticipation only growing, his fondness for his boyfriend doing the same. The second Peter opened his door, Harley was greeted with a sweet song reminding him of the night they danced together to it, only moments before finishing off the kindest night ever with their first kiss. 

They walked further into the room, revealing the shepherd’s pie Peter had cooked up for the both of them. The meal he had claimed as his favorite when Bruce had asked. Harley looked at his boyfriend, entirely awestruck at his shenanigans fueled by true love. That was what they had. True love.

A love like in the movies. One that was characterized by sharing the other’s pain, and taking it away at any cost to yourself. A love that stayed strong even through the darkest of nights. Two hearts that beat for the other, and that were so in sync that they could never be lost, because the other was always there to guide. A single soul, broken into two people, simply made so that they could find each other in every life, and feel the sparks every single time they shared their glances. A force binding them together, making it impossible to forget anything the other has ever said, because it resonated so loudly within your own being. A destiny that was written before they ever met, that will continue to bring them closer, long after they’re both gone.

There wasn’t a single word Harley could say to express what he was feeling in that moment. He felt cared for, and listen to, and loved. For the first time in his entire life, he knew that he was safe. He knew he would forever be, as long as Peter’s arms were wrapped around him.

The only home he knew now was Peter Parker.

They didn’t end up watching Kingsman. Though there was very meticulous planning that went into picking said movie, Harley felt like it was his turn to please his partner. So, before Peter could even mention what the movie choice was, Harley cut him off.

“We should watch Empire Strikes Back,” he had declared through a mouthful of his favorite meal.

Peter’s eyes lit up, his mind already running down that track, leaving no room for any other choice. “Really?!”

“Yeah, hun. Pull it up.”

Throughout the entirety of the film, Harley didn’t even care about watching the screen. He was far more content seeing his boyfriend quote almost every word of the 124 minutes of science fiction ‘perfection’ (as Peter had called it.) It filled his heart with a certain sense of fulfillment to know that he didn’t have to pay attention to the movie, because he had someone better to care about.

At one point near the end of the movie, Harley had had enough time to think, and finally thought it would be best to share his decision with Peter.

“Okay,” Harley said.

“Okay?” Peter questioned.

Harley took a deep breath. “I’m ready to tell the team.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He jumped out of his seat the nanosecond the words had flown out of Harley’s mouth. “When do you want to do it? Who do you want to tell? Everyone or just part of the team? Is there anyt-”

Peter could not stop asking questions. He was overjoyed, he was thrilled, ecstatic. This was it, their relationship was real. Oh, my God.

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Harley implored, desiring to keep his boyfriend alive and breathing long enough to actually announce that he had a boyfriend.

“Sorry, I’m just, really excited,” Peter replied, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot in love. Oh wait.

The entire team was gathered in a conference room, along with Pepper and Happy (who aren’t technically a part of the team.) Harley had decided that telling everyone at once was the best move, seeing as it wouldn’t require him going through this stress more than once. He was pretty sure doing this multiple times would kill a person, so he’d try to avoid that as best he could.

Everyone was seated at the large table, staring up at Harley and Peter who stood at the head of the table. Harley was nervous, like, really, really nervous. If he didn’t know any better, he’d probably assume this was a panic attack. Except there wasn’t a sense of panic when Peter was around. He just had to push through and get this over with as soon as possible. He looked to Peter for comfort, knowing he would always find it in those golden brown eyes of his.

Harley just had to keep going. Everyone was gathered. They wouldn’t react like his mother had. They wouldn’t do what his step-father had. They weren’t from Tennessee, they weren’t like everyone else in his life had been. He knew Bucky was with Sam, he knew Natasha was with Maria. He knew that, logically, everything would be fine. But he couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in him that there was something that could go so horribly wrong and that he would be forced away from Peter.

It would be the cruelest form of punishment, but it was nowhere in sight, right? Everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

He took a deep, steadying breath, and laced his hand with Peter’s. The whole room quietened when he started speaking.

“I’m gay.”

He held up his and Peter’s intertwined fingers, and proudly declared;

“And we’re together.”

The quiet that had settled before Harley started speaking only continued. For long, long minutes. It was absolute silence.

“That’s my boy!” Sam cheered, getting up from his chair abruptly, practically knocking it over. He walked up to both boys, hugged them each tightly, and told him just how proud he was of what they’d done.

Everyone was supportive.

Bucky was next to share his pride, hugging them just like his own boyfriend had.

“I’m so proud of the both of you,” he said gently, holding each of them by the shoulders. “You’re great together, boys.”

Steve stood up from his seat, clasping a strong hand on their shoulders and congratulating them. A solemn, yet touching way to show his support.

Wanda just couldn’t get enough. She hugged them both, giggling and making them both promise not to make her a third wheel when they all hung out together. She also congratulated Peter on ‘finally making a move,’ which Harley found quite interesting.

Bruce was quiet, as per usual, but he showed his unconditional love in just a few kind words. “I’m really proud of you, kids. Thank you for telling us, we love you.”

Natasha and Maria walked forth together, holding hands just like Peter and Harley were. “We’re proud of you,” Maria said. Natasha winked at Peter as she added: “About damn time.”

Pepper gave them each a very maternal hug, letting them feel the warmth that was radiating straight from her heart. “I love you both so much. You’re perfect to me.”

Happy gave them a supportive nod and a half-smile, which was about as enthusiastic as he ever got. “You’re great kids, keep it up.” Slightly non-descriptive and generic, but it was support.

Tony had stayed seated. He hadn’t gotten up, and he hadn’t yet reacted. Harley felt this lingering dread inside him that his mentor wasn’t speaking. Tony would be the one to either throw him a party, or throw him out. Everything rode on what the next words that came out of his mouth would be.

He stood up slowly, the last person still at the table. He walked up to the boys, a perfected poker face still covering up any emotions he might be feeling. Then he slowly, oh so slowly , wrapped his arms around Harley, pulling him into a hug.

It was the most personal of them all. A hug so tight that they were cheek to cheek.

“I am so proud of you, Harley,” Tony admitted, rubbing his hand on the boy’s back. “You are so brave, and I am so happy that you trust us with this.”

Harley couldn’t believe it. He was being accepted. By everyone. His eyes stung, a surefire sign that tears were bound to come. There was nothing but relief in his heart, washing over him like a wave crashing onto the shore. It was big, and fast, and made his breath hitch.

“I love you, kid,” Tony said, releasing them from their embrace. He looked Harley right in the eyes as he repeated it, once more. “I love you.”

Harley smiled the tears away, simply overjoyed that he had gone through with it. There was nothing to be feared anymore. He had told them he was gay, just like he had with his parents. Except it had gone so right . He felt all his anxieties melt away. He was accepted, he was celebrated. He was cherished, and he would be forever. He had a family here.

Harley looked at Peter and smiled a deep-rooted, soulfully happy smile. He had found a family. He let himself be completely infatuated with Peter Benjamin Parker, and he kissed the love of his life.

“Okay, okay,” Tony said, clapping his hands to get the boys to cut their affections. “No kissing in the conference rooms.”

Natasha scoffed from nearby.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t done worse on this very table.”

Chapter Text

The nightmares subsided.

After coming out to the entire team and being greeted with nothing but joy and acceptance, there was no way for Harley’s mind to twist it around any longer. He would no longer see images of pain and suffering for loving whom he chooses. 

He had Peter in his corner every second of every day. And he knew that, God forbid anything happen, the Avengers would be there to back him up.

Harley and Peter were as strong as ever. Their unbreakable bond had only strengthened since they came out. Harley had been the one to say it out loud, but in a way it had been Peter’s coming out, too. Only Wanda had known, so Peter had expected her to be supportive of Harley as well, but the rest of the team was a little more stressful. It couldn’t have gone more beautifully, though. It was a great memory that he would treasure. The day he and his boyfriend came out of the closet, into the warmth, care, and joy that the Avengers had to give.

When they went back to school the following week, they were greeted by their friends.

Ned caught sight of them walking towards Peter’s locker and he immediately shouted. “Hey! MJ, look, they’re back!”

The boy practically sprinted across the hallway to meet his best friend. He crashed into Peter, having misjudged the distance that separated them. A cascade of laughter erupted from Harley, seeing his boyfriend get tackled to the floor by his friend. MJ chuckled lightly from where Ned had come from, having walked at a more leisurely pace than the other teen.

She smiled kindly at Harley. “Hey, new kid. How’s it going?”

“It’s going. How ‘bout y’all?” Harley responded, a smile tugging at his lips at Peter and Ned trying to untangle themselves.

“As you can see, I’ve had to deal with a lot while you were gone,” MJ quipped, signalling towards Ned, who had just gotten up and was wiping the grime of the floor off his pants and shirt.

“Hey, I’ve been fine!” Ned insisted. “I’ve just been a little worried.”

“Just a little?” Peter asked, still recovering from his impromptu trip to the floor. 

“You guys disappeared out of nowhere for, like, a week!” Ned exclaimed. “I had a right to be worried.”

Peter put his things into his locker, grabbing the few textbooks he’d need for their calculus class. They moved towards Harley’s locker, Peter and the teen intertwining their fingers on the way, earning a few hushed comments from Ned and MJ to the other.

As they stopped at Harley’s locker to do the same as Peter had, MJ took the opportunity to poke the bear.

“When did that happen?” she asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“When did what happen?” Peter retorted, genuinely confused.

MJ shared a look with Ned, who was beaming over-excitedly. “Since when are you two together?”

There was no hiding Peter’s blushing cheeks, so he did his best to stare at the floor. Harley merely smiled into his locker, already being hidden by the small metal door. He figured he had already come out to a dozen people and they had all been supportive. These weren’t just your everyday people, either, they were superheroes. Harley could be fully out and he’d have support 24/7 from the Avengers. He had no reason to hide it anymore. He had no fear.

“Last Sunday,” Harley answered, closing his locker. “We’ve been together since the 22nd.”

Peter looked up from the floor at his boyfriend. That was the first time he’d openly admitted it. He hadn’t so much as hesitated. He had just said, out loud, to two people at once, without needing any coaxing whatsoever, that they were in a relationship.

His heart felt light, his smile was genuine, and Peter could’ve sworn he’d never been so happy in his entire life. Tony Stark being in his living room? Yeah, that’s cool. But he had Harley Keener calling him his boyfriend without a single trace of anything but love and contentment. 

Their smiles and joy didn’t last forever.

“What’s up, dickwad?” Flash called across the hallway. “You got yourself a boyfriend, now?” he said, taunting them.

Peter merely looked towards Harley, giving him a questioning look. The other boy smirked back, a response to the mental conversation they were having through gazes and eyebrow quirks. He turned back to his bully, grinning far wider than he should’ve been.

“Yeah, he is,” Peter admitted, grabbing Harley’s hand. “Where’s yours?”

Flash didn’t have a retort to that. He could only mutter and sputter, unable to say anything but stare at the teenagers who wouldn’t let go of each other’s hand, and who were so comfortable now, when they certainly hadn’t been just a few days ago.

The boys now had their own lab. 

Tony had ultimately gotten tired (oh so tired) of seeing them be cute-sy and teenager-y all the time. They spent most of their time just flirting, and it was far too annoying for him to handle.

A couple hours of them going back and forth saying “No, you close the schematics!” was sickening for every party involved. After hour 2 even FRIDAY stopped recording. Despite it being against Tony’s rules to stop the security footage, no one would ever need to sit through that horror for longer than 120 minutes.

Their new, private lab was way better than Tony’s one. It was new, so fresh furniture, fresh gadgets, more tech and their personalized design. There was 3 minifridges scattered across their lab at a semi-regular interval, allowing them to have access to RedBull and Monster at the location most convenient to pull all-nighters. Also, it wasn’t like every other run-of-the-mill lab in the Tower. Seeing as Peter had designed it, alongside his boyfriend, they had picked colors other than Black, Cool Grey and White. Their walls had splashes of red, here and there, a tribute to their mentor and his signature color. The ceiling was a royal blue, pairing well with the red of the walls to represent Spider-Man, and also being chosen for the ceiling, seeing as that’s where he always hung out. Their lab was also the first to only have one digital worktable inside. They knew that having multiple would just be expensive and useless, so they opted for a single worktable, but a couple dozen smart screens littering the walls to allow them both a view of everything they’d want. 

Happy, on the other hand, was more ambivalent. He was so grateful that they finally shut up on their rides to and from school. Peter had always been so incredibly chatty. Even on a Monday morning, when everyone feels like they’re dying and just want to sleep, Peter is up and at ‘em, ready to start his day and talk your ear off until it physically falls! However, the first time the car had been entirely quiet on their ride back from Midtown, he was not prepared for what he saw in the rearview mirror.

Happy was supportive of them, right? He totally thought they deserved all their rights, and just as much happiness as the next person. That did not mean that he wanted to see them sucking face in the back of his car. And it wasn’t just a peck, it was a full-blown make out session that he really would’ve rather not witness.

“We are so late.”

“We’re just fashionably late, hun, don’t worry about it.”

“Natasha is terrifying. I always worry about being late.”

“Come on, Harls, it’s not the first time we’ve done this.”

Peter finished doing his hair, combing it to be just right. The prince charming look he’d achieved was Harley’s favorite, and he was most definitely going to keep it until prom.

“Darlin’, as much as I love you, if we don’t get going right now, Maria is going to track you down and have FRIDAY revoke your elevator privileges,” Harley threatened, desperate to make it on time.

“Okay, okay,” Peter said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “I’m done, we’re going.”

They grabbed their coats and left the Tower, headed across the street to the little cafe they went to bi-monthly. The other 4 people in their group were already seated at their usual table, so they had no trouble finding where they were already meant to be.

“Sorry we’re late, he had to fix his hair,” Harley announced, pulling Peter’s chair for him to sit. 

“Yeah, I did ,” Peter mocked, confirming what his partner was saying, but teasing him simultaneously.

Maria only chuckled, remembering what it was like to date when she was as young as the boys were. Nat felt light, happy that their little family had reunions like this where they could all just be together and be free. Sam and Bucky shared glances and a grin, knowing they were more of the teasing and mocking type than the pull-out-your-partner’s-chair-and-kiss-them-on-the-hand type.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road!” Sam proclaimed, waving down a waitress to come take their danish and coffee orders.

It was the same as usual; every other week the 6 of them, Maria, Natasha, Sam, Bucky, Harley and Peter, would have a triple-date at the cafe in front of the Tower. Not only did it give them a chance to gossip about the other members of the Team, and the staff at the Tower, but it also gave them a perfect excuse to eat tons and tons of pastries.

None of the other Avengers knew, officially. There was no telling what they had deduced, but no one had been told about their get-togethers. It was their tradition, and it didn’t need to be advertised to be special. It was important to them, and no matter how late Peter made them arrive, it would always be a lovely part of their lives.

They got back from their triple-date and stopped by their lab on the way to the penthouse.

Peter longed to stay at the Tower more often, so he had agreed with May to stay over every other week. It was sad whenever he wasn’t with Harley, but he saw the boy at school, so he was never truly away from him. He cherished his moments with May, making them that much more special.

Peter waited by the elevator while Harley wandered around, looking for an assignment he’d misplaced.

“Which one is it you’re looking for?” Peter asked, pushing himself off the wall.

“Math homework,” Harley answered distractedly, searching high and low on the myriad of tables, counters and cupboards.

“I know that, love, I meant which specific assignment,” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, just, uh- The one about, y’know geometry?” Harley rambled, not knowing what he was saying himself.

“Geometry?” Peter echoed standing near his boyfriend, pulling the latter’s attention towards him.

“Yeah,” Harley confirmed. 

“When’s the last time you saw it?” Peter asked, thinking about retracing their steps since then to find the missing assignment.

“Last night, hun. We were doing our homework and then Tony came in so we stopped, and all.”

“Right,” Peter agreed, a small smile already forming on his lips. “Then, let’s sit down and pretend to do homework.”

Peter did so, choosing the spot he had picked the previous night and pretending to write in mid-air. Harley imitated his partner, sitting down nearby, where he had before.

“Okay, and then Tony came in, talked to us, and when he left we started playing music,” Peter explained, his smile growing. “Fri, cue the music.”

She started up the playlist that had been playing almost 24 hours before exactly, already catching on to what the boys were doing. 

Peter slowly got up and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand. He pulled Harley to his feet, stringing him along to the middle of the room.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, bowing slightly.

“Always, my dear,” Harley responded, pulling Peter into a tighter embrace.

They danced to the music, swaying side to side and twirling the other around every now and again. They didn’t have a single worry, aside from keeping the other from spinning out of control, or falling asleep on their shoulder. They had love in their hearts, enough to go around the world twice and still keep going. 

They spun around the room a few dozen times, spending almost an hour just taking in their love for one another. Peter finally had to admit something on their 20-something loop.

“I know where your assignment is,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I took it to correct my answers,” Peter continued. “It’s in my room.”

“That’s nice,” Harley responded, not interested in the slightest about what had gotten them here in the first place.

They were just wrapped in each other’s arms, holding on tightly to one another, sharing their love openly, freely.

Harley looked down into the brown eyes he called his,

and he knew he was following his path.