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“I’m dying.”
Harley didn’t even look up.
“Tell May I love her.”
Harley dropped the flathead back onto the workbench behind him.
“Tell Tony I- actually, wait, no, don’t tell Tony anything. I’m still mad that he watched the new Star Wars movie without me. He deserves nothing.”
Where did that spanner go? Harley swears he just had it.
“I wish to be laid with my parents and uncle. Because they’re, y’know, dead.”
There it is. Why was it over there?
“Thus concludes the final words and wishes of Peter Benjamin Parker.”
Damn, this bolt doesn’t want to move.
“Make sure they play ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ at my funeral.”
Harley’s decided that the bolt’s staying put just to spite him.
“Do you think I’m going to go to Heaven?”
Nope, Harley’s all done. Stay there, see if he cares.
“What?”
Peter sighed dramatically from the couch.
“Were you not listening? I’m dying tragically young and beautiful over here.”
Harley snorted. Five bucks says Peter got a paper cut.
“My sincere grievances.”
“Thanks. I’m definitely going to Heaven, right?”
Harley finally looked up. Peter was laying on the couch with his eyes closed, and hands folded in prayer. To complete the picturesque scene, there was a pride flag hanging on the wall behind him.
Harley rolled his eyes.
“Parker, you’re gay.”
Peter gasped.
“No. Really? I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
……Shit, Harley wants that bolt gone.
“Ok, but, like, God will forgive me, right? I’m a good person. I help old ladies cross the street. Also, I’m not gay, asshole, I’m bi. There’s a difference.”
Maybe if Harley puts all of his weight behind it, it’ll start to loosen.
“And you’re not listening again. Fine. You aren’t invited to my funeral.”
Attempt three. Harley can do this. Also, rude.
“Ned can organize it. He’ll rick-roll everyone for me, no questions asked.”
Three, two, o- ow. That’s the ground.
“Smooth, Keener.”
Look, weight distribution is physics. Harley does cars, ok?
“Aw, thanks, babe. Knew you cared.”
Throwing pillows is an act of war, and Peter should know that.
“You are absolutely blacklisted from the funeral.”
Please, Parker.
“What’s the cause of death again?”
Now, you can’t throw something at Peter, because Peter-Tingle. Think smarter, Harley. This is not the battle to lose.
“…….That’s none of your business.”
What if Harley threw himself?
“Well, seeing as I’m the last person to see you alive, I need to make sure I’m not going to get convicted for murder. Looks bad on a resumé.”
Focus, Keener. Timing is key in this attack.
“I’ll make sure all the clues point right to you, hon. And you don’t have a resumé.”
Ready, set-
“Did you just try to jump Spider-Man?”
Yes.
“No.”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“Well, congrats, you failed.”
Not from where Harley’s laying on his boyfriend he didn’t.
“Did you get that bolt out?”
Oh. Harley had forgotten about it, honestly. War does that to a person.
“Nah.”
Peter adjusted slightly, putting them in a more comfortable position.
“I can get it out for you later if you want.”
Who cares about the stupid bolt? Shh. Let a man sleep, Parker.
“………You might be invited to my funeral.”
Harley grinned.
“Never doubted it.”