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It was pitch black when Harry broke out of his slumber. He opened his eyes slowly and tensed as he realized he wasn’t alone. He inhaled and settled instantly. It’s just Peter. That’s right, they fell asleep holding each other, didn’t they? Harry smiled and leaned against Peter’s warm chest. He took a deep breath and felt pure euphoria flow through him.
Harry shook his head, silently laughing at himself. Listen, Peter smells amazing! He smells like safety. He smells like home. He smells like a love he never thought he’d find again after his mother passed. He’s everything Harry will ever need, at least for now. Harry is certainly not going back to sleep anytime soon, but that’s fine. He wants to engrain this moment into his brain, wants to never forget the warmth Peter’s surprisingly toned limbs bring him. It’ll probably be a while before Peter lets something like this happen again, so of course he’s gonna make the most of it.
Just then his stomach made an obscene noise. No wonder he woke up, he hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning. Not to mention the sun wasn’t even down when Pete and him fell asleep. Despite their shared incompetence, it’s nice to know they were both comfortable enough to…fall asleep in each other’s arms. Harry held Pete tighter and sighed.
“Buddy?” Peter spoke groggily.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” He whispered.
“Maybe-“ He yawned. “What time is it?”
Harry looked over at Peter’s alarm clock. “Uh, 3:37 am.” He chuckled quietly.
“Oh, Jesus. When did we pass out?”
“No idea man.” His head was still nestled between Peter’s chest and neck.
“You’re lucky-“ Pete yawned again. “You’re lucky that tomorrow- erm today, we’ve got no school.” He leaned back and pulled Harry up so they were face to face. It’s not like either of them could see each other, but still.
“I’m surprised May didn’t wake us up.”
“I’m not.” He shrugged. “I mean she probably walked in and saw us…yknow. Maybe she knew at least one of us desperately needed some TLC.”
“Please, it was your suggestion. I didn’t and still am not hearing any complaints.” Harry squeezed Pete’s waist to ‘reaffirm’ his statement.
“Did you expect to? When do I ever say no to you?”
“Again, it was your suggestion!”
“I’m just saying man, you don’t always need elaborate plans to convince me. Frankly, seeing you upset works much better than any of that.” He laughs quietly. “No, abusing that power though, 'cause I seriously cannot say no to you.”
There was an odd hint of sincerity in Peter’s voice. Harry’s left wondering where this sudden emotion is coming from.
“Especially not today.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Dude, seriously?” Peter chuckled and moved forward, leaning up to kiss Harry’s forehead. “Happy birthday idiot.”
This is the second time Pete has ever kissed his- wait what? Oh fuck!
“Holy- shit!” He flinched as his voice came out louder than anticipated. “Dude I completely fucking forgot.”
“I can see that bud.” He laughed and ran a hand through Harry’s soft hair. “You’re officially 17. How’s it feel?” Harry can’t see him, but he knows Peter has the dumbest smirk on his face.
“How- how did I forget my own birthday?” Harry was still reeling from the revelation.
“MJ said you would.”
He’s somewhat surprised Peter even remembered. Pete had just seemed so busy recently. Harry had been feeling like a footnote in Peter’s life, but of course that was him overthinking. He knows that now.
“God, that’s really embarrassing.” He turned to groan into a pillow.
“It is.” Peter giggled. “But hey, that’s like nothing new coming from you.”
“I’ll actually suffocate you with this pillow Parker.”
“An empty threat.” Peter challenged.
“You sure ‘bout that Pete?”
“You would never-“
Harry pushed Pete onto his back and moved to straddle his waist, pulling the pillow up in one swift movement. Before Harry could even try bringing the pillow down on him, Peter’s hand grabbed it and snatched it with ease. He tosses the pillow on the ground and grabs Harry’s wrists, looking up at him. At this angle, light from a street lamp slightly illuminates Harry’s face.
“Solid A for effort.” Peter chuckles at him.
Harry tries, halfheartedly, to wrestle his hands out of Pete’s grip. “When the hell-“ He struggled again. “Why are you so strong?”
“Is it that I’ve gotten stronger…” Peter flipped their positions with a speed and grace that bewildered Harry. “Or have you just gotten weaker buddy?”
Peter was now on top of Harry, pinning his hands above his head, and smiling innocently down at him.
“C-clearly, you’re just some freak Parker.” Their compromising position was not lost on Harry. He once again thanked whatever god is out there that Peter could not see his face right now.
“To hang out with you constantly, I must be.”
“You’re hilarious Pete.” He deadpanned knowing full well Pete couldn’t see him. “Get off me, man.” Harry tried moving his wrists to no avail. Sure he didn’t want to actually end this, but it’s more like he needed it to end. For everyone’s sake.
“What’s the magic word?” His tone was mocking and it made something stir within Harry.
“Peter-“
“Nope. Try again.” Peter leaned down, his hands firmly holding Harry’s wrists in place.
Harry whined he actually fucking whined. He bit the inside of his cheek and hoped Pete didn’t hear. He was oh so close. So close that Harry could feel his warm breath on his face. This was funny, maybe even cute at first but Harry needs this to stop.
“I- Please let me go.” It was a genuine plead.
“Well since you asked so nicely,” Peter smiled and let go of Harry’s wrists, plopping down on the bed beside him.
Harry stared at the ceiling, mind trying to wrap around whatever the hell just happened. He brings one of his knees up to hide his- yeah yeah. That’s bad. He knows that’s bad, but fuck can you really blame him? Harry tried to make the movement not blatantly obvious. I mean, what was that to Peter? Just two ‘dudes’ wrestling? Guess Harry never considered them the type to do such a thing, but part of him desperately hopes it’ll happen again.
Peter was also staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought before he quietly spoke. “We should probably go eat something. I know it’s late, but I’m definitely not gonna fall asleep. How ‘bout you?”
“Food…yeah that’s a good idea,” Harry replied idly, still processing.
“Alrighty then.” He sat up and crawled over Harry, shivering as his bare feet met the cold hardwood.
Peter looked through his dresser and pulled out a couple of pajama bottoms. “Here you go.”
He took them and slipped them over the shorts Peter had given him as well. “Not that I’m trying to steal all of your clothes, but-“
Peter threw a pair of socks at his chest. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks, Pete.” He put on the socks and stood up, stretching his limbs out.
Peter grabbed their jackets off the dresser and tossed Harry’s at him. Harry did not react in time and yelped as the zipper hit him in the face.
“Oww.” He rubbed his cheek. “Why do we need our jackets?!”
“Shh, c’mon.” Peter grabbed him by the arm and ushered him out of the dark room and into the slightly illuminated hallway. They tip-toed past May's room quietly, finally making it to the top of the stairwell. Pete started descending first with Harry right behind him. They were about seven steps in before Harry slipped and Peter reacted fast enough to grab him and stop himself from falling as well.
“Dude.” He snickered quietly. “Careful, idiot.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
They made it down and Peter kneeled to grab his shoes then passed Harry his boots.
“Put them on.”
“For what?”
“Just do it, Har.” He laced up his very worn black Converse.
Harry didn’t reply, but he did sit on one of the stairs to slip on his boots.
Peter stood up and started walking towards the kitchen, gesturing for Harry to follow. He did, but also wondered what the hell Peter was up to. Normally it was Harry’s job to have spontaneous and typically bad ideas.
“Uhm so, food situation uhh.” Peter opened the fridge and scanned it before smiling fondly. “Of course.” He grabbed a casserole dish out of the fridge and placed it on the counter.
“What’s that?” Harry grabbed a small piece of paper that lay on the foil covering the dish.
‘Figured you boys would be hungry whenever you decided to get out of bed. -May’
Harry smiled down at the paper before putting it in his pocket. “I freaking love that woman.”
“She’s the best.” He removed the foil and groaned in satisfaction. “It’s lasagna.” He grabbed a fork and plunged it into the cold food, not even hesitating to take a bite.
“Ooh, it looks…Peter!” He grimaced at his friend.
“Don’t care- hungry.” Peter spoke through his full mouth without shame.
“You’re so gross, dude.” Harry giggled quietly.
Peter swallowed. “Hmm. Think I prefer it cold.”
“That’s literally the most horrendous thing I’ve ever heard anyone say, and I once heard Dad trying to explain why homelessness was “seriously not that big a deal.”
Peter snorted and shook his head. “C’mon try it.” He took another forkful of the cold pasta and held it up to Harry.
He squinted at the fork and then at Peter. “Alright…” He cautiously took the fork into his mouth, used his teeth to get the pasta off, and tried not to think about the temperature as he chewed.
“Thoughts?”
Harry swallowed and smiled as he realized Pete just fed him. It’s a silly thing, but it meant so much to him.
“Uh, it’s Mays cooking so I mean it’s good, but cold lasagna is blasphemy, Pete.”
“Agree to disagree.” Peter opens a cabinet to carefully grab a plate. He searches a nearby drawer grabbing a spatula. He rinses the plate and waves it around frantically to dry it off.
Harry stood, leaning against the dining table, just watching Peter. He’s so damn handsome. Yknow, Harry never used to rinse his dishes before using them, it was something he picked up from Pete. He wonders how many little and big changes he’s made over the years cause of Pete. Like when he stopped using gel to lay down his hair cause Pete told him in 6th grade that his curls “were so cool”. Even back then Harry wanted to do everything in his power to please Peter.
Pete put the plate of lasagna into the microwave, closing the door gently before setting it to two and a half minutes. He looked back, smiling at Harry who he knew had been staring at him the entire time. Harry did that a lot and it made Peter feel…special.
Harry felt a lump in his throat as Peter caught him staring. He just smiled back and laughed quietly, clearly embarrassed. He watched as Peter picked his fork back up and continued eating. Man, even watching Pete scarf down cold lasagna like a psycho couldn’t make him love that dork any less.
Harry looked at the microwave and rushed towards it, stopping it right before it beeped. He opened it, took out his warm normal lasagna, and grabbed a fork before sitting down at the table. Peter followed, bringing the entire dish with him. Harry watched incredulously as Peter placed the dish on the table and sat down across from him.
“Pete, you’re so very strange.” He spoke lowly and took a bite of his food, humming in satisfaction.
“No arguments here.” He smiled before digging back in.
Harry was slightly bewildered but couldn’t help but feel his heart warm as he watched Peter. Pete on the other hand was just admiring how delicious May's cooking was. They ate in a comfortable silence.
Once they were done, they cleaned up their mess and Pete moved to grab two sodas for them.
“Mkay, let’s go.” Pete handed him a can and walked towards the back door.
“Go where?” He opened his soda to quench his thirst.
Peter chose not to reply and smiled back at him as they walked through the backyard and further into the empty “wooded” area behind Mays home. Harry follows closely behind and stops as Peter suddenly turns to face him.
“Turn around and don’t look until I tell you.”
“What? Peter what are you-“
“Shush. Just do it.”
He huffed and complied, turning away from Peter. Harry genuinely thinks he’s physically incapable of saying no to that man. He can hear Peter shuffling around behind him as a strong breeze causes him to shiver a bit.
“Alright, you can look now.”
Harry turned around gingerly. His patented goofy grin spread across his face. Peter had simply set up a blanket atop the grass and held a wrapped gift in his hand. How did he hide that on his person without Harry noticing? Harry refrains from making a Mary Poppins joke and sits beside Peter on the blanket.
“Here you go, buddy.” He handed Harry his present.
His heart was beating in his ears as he slowly tore away the wrapping paper and was met with the sweetest thing he’d ever received. “Pete…” Harry stared at the framed picture. It was the last time he went to Coney Island. It featured him, Peter, MJ, and his mother. She looked so happy…
“I found it while cleaning up the basement. I know the frame is a little worn but it’s all I could find.” Pete fidgeted with his hands. “Do you like it?”
Harry couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears fell from his lashes, landing directly on the glass of the frame. He squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed as quietly as he could. Peter hadn’t seen Harry cry since Emily passed. He almost wasn’t sure what to do but he scooted closer to Harry and placed a hand on his.
“Uhm, Good? Bad tears?”
Harry laughed through a sob. Why is this dumbass so effortlessly endearing?
“Good. Good tears, Pete.” He shook his head and wiped his tears away while his other hand moved to intertwine their fingers. He looked down at the picture and smiled fondly, choking back another sob. Peter squeezed his hand and caressed it with his thumb. The tiny gesture made Harry’s heart flutter.
Pete lay down and tugged on Harry’s arm to get him to do the same. The pair looked up at the surprisingly clear sky. Very few stars were visible tonight and that made Peter a bit disappointed. His haphazardly put-together present for Harry was going about as smoothly as expected. He felt Harry’s eyes on him and turned to look at his friend. He looked…content? That’s all Peter could’ve hoped for. He just needed Harry to be satisfied, after-all today was all about him. Peter smiled like Harry was the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you, buddy.”
Harry flushed almost instantly. Of course, they’d said I love you dozens of times, but never while looking at the damn stars together and holding hands…that was definitely new. Pete seemingly has endless ways to torture him. Torture is a harsh word, but this truly was agony, albeit in the best way.
“I love you too, Pete.” Harry tried to ease his mind and just enjoy this moment with his best friend.
Peter squeezed his hand again before looking back up at the sky. “I don’t know what I’d do without MJ and you man. You both keep me sane.”
MJ and him. Not him and MJ. He’ll always be second.
“You both mean the world to…no you both are my world.” He sighed before continuing. “I know I don’t say that enough.“
Harry didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. All of the words his brain came up with would’ve gotten him in trouble. They lay there for at least ten minutes in complete silence.
“We should probably head back.”
“Huh?” Peter looked over at him.
“The sun's gonna come up any second now…we should go back.”
“Yeah, okay.”
The hesitancy in Peter’s voice absolutely destroyed Harry, but he couldn’t keep lying there. He knows Pete was trying to make him feel special and appreciated, but he was accomplishing the opposite effect.
Harry grabbed the frame while Peter folded the blanket. They walked back to Mays in silence.
‘What did he do wrong?’ That was all Peter could think. This is what he gets for half-assing his best friend’s birthday. All he can do lately is fuck things up. He almost wasn’t fast enough to save MJ yesterday and now he’s making Harry upset. You’re an idiot Peter. The sentiment repeated in his head as they entered May's house, took off their shoes and walked back up to his room.
The pair slipped off their jackets and crawled into bed together. Harry decided it was best to do what they usually did, aka face away from each other while they slept. He closed his eyes and heard Pete shuffling, he was most likely moving to face the wall. Harry sighed quietly, knowing his resolve had already waned.
“Pete?”
“Yeah, Har?”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”
He heard Pete chuckling.
“I know.” Peter decided if Harry was upset with him…this would probably be the best way to fix it. He flipped over to face Harry and put a hand on his abdomen, pulling him closer until his back was flush against Pete’s chest.
“You’re- you’re seriously freakishly strong Pete.” He clenched his fists as he felt Peter’s breath on the back of his neck. This was somehow better/worse than cuddling face-to-face.
“Thank you, buddy.” He moved his arm and grabbed Harry’s far shoulder, keeping him close.
Harry’s already forgotten about the mention of MJ. He can’t even describe what it’s like to be welcomed in Peter’s strong embrace. Heaven on earth seems to not do it justice. He settled into the embrace slowly and closed his eyes. There’s absolutely no way he’s falling asleep anytime soon, but it doesn’t hurt to try.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he assumes it’s about twenty minutes because Peter’s breathing seems to have evened out. He knows it’s probably strange to know how long Peter takes to fall asleep but shut up.
He nearly drifted off to sleep himself but then Peter’s phone started ringing. He jolted and was gonna say something but Peter had already woken up and answered the call. Harry kept his eyes closed and tried to listen. All he could make out was “alright” and “MJ”…so not a lot to go on.
It was too dark to see but Harry opened his eyes slightly, feeling the bed dip as Peter slowly got out of bed. Harry watched as he pulled something out of his closet. He nearly saw what it was but he snapped his eyes shut as Pete turned in his direction.
“Sorry.” Pete whispered and sighed before running out of the room with whatever he had.
Once again Harry is left hating his own overactive brain. He really couldn’t have just fallen asleep and avoided this. Now his mind was racing with more crazy assumptions. I mean, did Peter seriously just leave him to go be with MJ? That’s ridiculous, stupid even. It’s Harry’s birthday and it’s the middle of the night. There are dozens of reasons for him to think otherwise, but he’s convinced Peter left to be with her.
Harry stares at the ceiling and brings his hands up to his face. “So stupid.” He whispers to himself as he starts crying. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He turns over and groans frustratingly into a pillow. He sobs quietly into it then stills as he realizes the pillow smells like Peter. Peter…all he wants is to be wrapped in Peter’s arms. He desperately wants Peter to stutter and embarrass himself around him like he does with MJ. He wants Peter to see how crazy he makes him feel, how insane he feels everytime they’re all together.
“Shut up.” Harry pleads to himself. “Please shut up.” He grabs the pillow Peter was using and embraces it firmly. He knows this must all be in his head. Yes, they’re closer than normal friends are, but that’s understandable. If Harry’s honest, he knows all 3 of them have been through some shit and they need each other. He’s the idiot who got his wires crossed. The…freak that fell in love with his best friend. He can’t be mad at Peter or MJ, this is his problem.
He only cursed his existence a few more times before crying himself to sleep.