Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter had put up with Eugene “Flash” Thompson since the day they both stepped into Midtown Technical High School for the very first time. From the start, the boy was an asshole, picking on him because of his size and the convenience to shove around someone weaker. Then came the field trip to Ozcorp, where of course Peter was bitten, but it came with a sudden growth in strength. It felt good to be able to run and lift things young Peter could only dream of, but it came with a cost. Unfortunately, he couldn’t use his strength at school, because who would believe weak Penis Parker could bench press more than just a few kilos. So since then, he took every punch, shove, kick and slap with grace, just absorbing the impact and going about his day. It was fine, and although it didn’t make school the greatest, he still had his two friends and didn’t have to worry too much.

Then came Harley Keener. Harley was a boy from Tennessee with a ridiculous accent and an even more ridiculous ego. He was staying with family in the area and at first, he wasn’t really the issue, only hanging around with Flash and his cronies and joining in on the torment every so often. The boy had initially seemed nice enough, too quiet to speak up and involve himself in putting others down. Then he became Flash’s best friend, and his ego was only inflated by a thousand. Popularity had certainly taken the boy’s attitude by storm, and he seemed to bathe in the attention as if he’d never experienced it before. And unlike Flash, Harley’s punches hurt.

The second issue was that he and Tony Stark had some weirdly emotional bond, so every time Peter swung to the tower, the teenager would be busy tinkering away with his mentor. It made him physically sick to see Harley be so cruel to other students and then be treated with open arms by Tony, Pepper and the Avengers like an angel from Heaven.

‘Parker! Did you do my homework?’ Flash came up to him, shoving him against the lockers and pushing him into the cold metal. Peter only gave a brief eyeroll, digging in his bag for the piece of paper. ‘Did you really need me to do it? It was really easy.’

‘It’s funnier knowing it wastes your time,’ the boy smirked. Ned and MJ approached him from behind.

‘Eugene is just too embarrassed to admit he can’t do simple trigonometry,’ the girl made direct eye contact with Flash, who flipped her off and stomped away. She smiled sardonically, waving him away as her face dropped into a snarl.

‘Peter, one day you’ve gotta stand up for yourself!’ Ned exclaimed, frowning. ‘He’s an asshole.’

‘It’s better that he’s an asshole to me than to someone who could actually be injured by him,’ Peter shrugged, not really bothered. It didn’t take much time out of his day, if he was being honest. He had time to finish his homework while he waited for Tony at the tower, so he just did the other teen’s anyway. It was his fault if he failed the test, not Peter’s.

‘Dude, that’s not the point!’ Ned had given up, and he knew his friend was sick of seeing him getting shoved around, but Flash looked like a saint compared to some of the villains he faced.

‘Ned, he’s not gonna listen to you,’ MJ sighed miserably. ‘Let’s just head to class.’

-

Peter had been thrilled for school to end so he could enjoy his lab day with Mr Stark, taking a heavy sigh of relief as he briskly slipped through the automatic doors. It was a trek to say the least, after his excruciating journey of facing the stuffy subway that still smelled like piss and pot, and then barely dodging the violent hale which plummeted from the skies.

Nodding briefly at the security guard, he slipped through the machines and into the packed elevator. He squeezed his way into the back of the group, holding his breath as he shimmied between a stocky man in a wrinkled business suit and a woman with a stained labcoat and the slickest ponytail he’d ever seen. It even rivalled Pepper’s, which was a miracle on its own.

After the exciting adventure of waiting for every person to get off their respective stop, Peter asked FRIDAY to speed the elevator up, flying past every level until it reached his lab. The doors slid open to the familiar scent of motor oil and blaring rock music. Swinging his bag off his shoulder and across the floor, he leapt out towards the door and into the lab…where he inhaled sharply.

‘Peter Parker, didn’t know I’d be seeing you ‘round here,’ Harley raised an eyebrow. He’d changed from his school clothes, wearing a dirty tank top and jeans that looked like they’d withstand a laser cutter.

‘Yeah, I actually work here,’ he shrugged, ‘I’ve been working here.’

Harley’s drawl bled with sarcasm. ‘You look lost, need me to introduce you to the big man himself? He could take you back down to the intern level, if that’s what you meant.’

‘Uh, nope, I don’t need your help,’ he narrowed his eyes, frowning.

‘Fine by me.’

‘Harley! Seems like you’ve met my other intern!’ Tony’s enthusiastic voice broke up their conversation, the man pausing his booming music and strolling over to wrap one arm around each teen’s shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Harley clenched his jaw, but stayed close to the billionaire as they were dragged together.

‘Peter, your stuff is on the bench over there, you can hook up Karen if you want, I’m sure Spidey won’t mind,’ Tony clasped his hands. ‘Harley, I didn’t realise you had so much tech in Tennessee, but you know where it is…just keep going with whatever you were doing yesterday…’

‘Old man, you don’t have to be so fatherly,’ Harley shrugged, eagerly rummaging through a thick pile of metal.

‘Just doing my job,’ the genius smiled warmly, patting him on the back. Peter turned away from the two, rolling his eyes. He didn’t need to see the teenager get so affectionate with his mentor.

‘I’m just going to tell Pep you’re both here,’ Tony exclaimed happily, clearly thrilled for both their presence. ‘She wanted to take a photo for Instagram, something about a good rep for the company…I dunno, it seems like bullshit, but, I can’t say no to her.’

‘Alright, you need me to change?’ Harley asked, motioning to his attire. He looked, in Peter’s opinion, like a hot mess. Nothing suitable for Pepper Potts’s prestigious Instagram.

‘Nah…well, only if the boss says,’ the genius shrugged, disappearing down the hallway.

Peter searched the lab, turning the place upside down till he heard an oddly familiar clicking from the far side of the room. He spun around, making direct eye contact with the other boy.

Harley grinned, toying with the web shooters in his hands.

‘Don’t touch those,’ Peter hissed, reaching out to snatch the weaponry away. The boy moved his hand, raising it higher while also getting a better look at its contents.

‘Nah, I think I will, darlin’,’ he smiled wryly, toying with it in his fingers before the webs suddenly ejected and the cuffs flew backwards. They smashed into the wall with a worrying crash, and Peter found himself bolting for them as they fell carelessly to the floor.

‘If you weren’t so weak, I would’ve thought you were Spider-Man himself with that kind of desperation,’ he smirked, shaking off the accident as if he didn’t just break an Avenger’s possessions. ‘I was just interested in them. I guess you ain’t as dumb as I thought.’

‘Maybe I’ll tell him you were a little too interested in his web shooters,’ he hissed, not bothering to turn around as he tried to fit the broken pieces back together.

‘Sounds good to me, I wanted to meet him.’

He scowled, turning his back to the boy so he could fix the web shooters in peace.

They built and fixed their respective machines, and Peter couldn’t help but sneak a look at the other boy’s setup. He was head down focused, welding two pieces of metal together. It looked similar to the Iron Man chestplate, but with different structural pieces. It looked fairly interesting, but he didn’t dare ask what it was. Dropping his head, Peter finally reattached the web shooters together, and with the help of Karen, he began to research for ways to upgrade them so they wouldn’t snap in the fingers of a teenager. The AI had reformed into a visible holographic sphere that shifted and warped into different shapes as it talked and guided him.

‘Maybe Princess Shuri could bring some next time she’s in New York,’ Karen informed.

‘Vibranium? You better share that with me…’ Harley had looked up, involving himself in Peter’s conversation with the AI. ‘And who are you talking to?’

Peter considered staying silent but he didn’t know what the teen’s plans were if he didn’t, so without looking away, he answered promptly. ‘It’s Spider-Man’s personal AI, from his suit.’

‘That’s so cool…How many AI databases has Tony made?’

‘He’s made a couple, he only made this one on base level. Both Spider-Man and I have updated this one.’

‘You think you could make me one?’ He asked plainly.

‘It’s a little more complex than Flash’s math homework,’ he narrowed his eyes.

‘Yeah, but you seem smart, unless you’re just bluffing.’

Peter sighed audibly, dropping his head down onto the bench.

As soon as he’d gotten his concentration back, Pepper emerged at the doorway with a broad smile and her husband following like a lost puppy.

‘I’m here to take a photo,’ she sang, clasping her perfectly manicured hands over her StarkPhone.

‘Yes Ma’am,’ Harley lifted up his mask, nodding and smiling warmly at Pepper. Peter scowled at him, because if only they knew how much of an ass he was. Shoving down his initial feelings, he too greeted the woman, chuckling slightly at Tony’s dramatic eye roll.

‘You kids are such suck-ups,’ the genius sighed loudly. ‘I’ve never received this kid of respect ever.’

Peter opened his mouth, prepared with a witty retort, but Harley beat him to it. ‘Tony, you’re no better than a teenager.’

‘How dare you…’

The teen snickered, and even Pepper cracked a devious smile. Peter followed weakly, but he dropped the façade as Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder.

‘At least this one isn’t rude to me,’ the genius grinned, but Peter just shrugged. ‘Depends on the day.’

‘Hey!’

‘Well enough of you three teens, let’s take a photo. And Tony?’ Pepper looked up, squinting at her husband, who looked at her with endearing eyes. ‘Fix your hair, please.’

-

It had been a couple of hours, more specifically seven, and with a stomach half-full of pizza, Peter snuck off from Tony and his evil intern and stripped in the janitor’s closet, stiffly pulling on his suit over his shivering skin. After numerous attempts to get it up, he finally stretched it over his shoulders and stood numbly, panting from the strenuous cardio. His mask slipped on, and he winded the window open so he could step out, a nearby building the perfect aim for his first web. Jumping out, he soared in the crisp air for a couple of seconds before jolting upwards with an electrifying swing.

A couple of smugglers were headfirst in a dumpster, rummaging frantically through trash towards something that was definitely glowing. Peter dropped to ground-level, inconspicuous at the beginning but he did take joy in sneaking up on people.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to come dumpster-diving with you!’ He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. ‘I am the king of dumpster-diving.’

They whipped their heads around, and the guns he hadn’t noticed began to spit through the air and ricochet off nearby walls. Fervently dodging the bullets, he shot a web at the first goon, knocking the guy’s masked face with his friends. They both swore colourfully, but they were soon shut up as Peter threw them both against the wall.

‘Oi, what was that about?’ Beard Guy exclaimed, groaning in pain. Peter held his breath and scavenged through the bags of trash. The glowing thing was now pulsing against the other rubbish like a frantic heartbeat.

‘Don’t touch that,’ Mask Man snarled, but Peter just webbed his mouth to shut him up.

His hands grasped the throbbing piece of equipment, pulling out what was most definitely not earth-created. It was shaped as a gun, but glowed shades of purple, its light warped in his hands.

‘That alien tech, it’s mad dangerous…oh, I mean useless, mad useless.’

‘Shut it, Marvin,’

‘My bad, bro,’ Beard Guy, or Marvin, whined weakly as his friend rolled his eyes.

Peter ignored them, leaving them stuck to the alleyway wall as he webbed himself back to the tower. It was probably some unholy hour but Tony had begged him, with tears, that if Peter needed help from the Avengers, he should use it and abuse it.

He didn’t hesitate to crash land through an open window and into the Avengers common room. Natasha looked up from her book, barely batting an eye as the strange-looking gun flickered and pulsed.

‘молодой паук? What is that?’

‘It’s, uh, I dunno,’ he muttered quickly, still panting from his speedy swing. ‘But, I need to find Tony.’

‘I think he’s with Harley still,’ the woman was suddenly standing, memorising her page number then discarding the book across the couch. She began to disappear down the hall, Peter hot on her heels.

‘Tony, молодой паук needs your help,’ she shoved whatever was in front of the billionaire away, ignoring the man’s evident scowl. After multiple pieces of metal clunked to the floor, Tony looked up from his position alone in the lab. Harley had disappeared, but Nat was aware Peter was still cautious, not wanting to out his identity just yet.

‘Underoos, what is that?’ He arched his brow.

‘I…I dunno…’ The boy threw it onto the table, flinching as light began to warp around it.

‘What do you mean, “I dunno”?’ Tony blinked, stepping backwards from the glowing piece of machinery.

‘On patrol, there were some guys trying to steal it,’ Peter shrugged, before putting on a faux affronted look. ‘Hey! Don’t look at me like I know alien-tech.’

‘Spidey, I do remember you insisting you did when you fought Toomes.’

‘No bringing that up,’ he scowled lightly when Nat turned to him, a quizzical expression on her face. ‘Well I’ll leave you to it, and don’t blow up anything…’

‘Spider-Man!’

Peter darted from the lab, sneaking into the janitor’s lab and locking the door swiftly. He peeled the suit off his aching muscles, freeing himself of the skintight layer and pulling on the hoodie that he didn’t remember dropping, but in all honesty, he was probably a little delirious. Adjusting to the familiar thick material, he crept out of the door. It was a little long, but fit comfortably around his biceps unlike the one he owned currently. Maybe he’d stretched it?

Chapter Text

‘Iron Lad was out yesterday, and I reckon he’s so hot,’ a girl giggled to her friends as they huddled around her locker like a herd of sheep.

‘Must be, all the other heroes are,’ another grinned widely, swooning behind her phone screen. Harley flushed, trying hard not to make it obvious that he was listening in. One girl looked up, but she didn’t seem too bothered. In fact, she seemed enthralled by his presence, fawning over him instantly.

‘Oh my gosh, Harley, you could totally be a hero,’ she exclaimed excitedly. ‘Don’t you agree, Sally?’

‘I see it,’ the girl smiled alluringly.

‘Harley, c’mon,’ Flash wrapped a tense hand around his forearm, dragging him weakly from the scene. ‘You can make out with a girl in the bathroom later.’

‘Damn, who do you take me for?’ He grimaced, folding his arms tightly over his chest.

‘Yeah, you’re right, the girls here are nowhere as hot as they could be,’ Flash shrugged, shoving him fondly. A shiver ran down his spine, goosebumps peppering his bare arms. He figured he’d be fine if he didn’t bring a jumper, but it had been a mistake not to find one to replace his missing one. He hadn’t owned any others up until Tony gave him his own Stark Industries merch, branded with his initials. Inconspicuous, but also, not really. Harley shivered again, forcing himself to man up and not feel so incompetent about his missing hoodie. He’d left it somewhere on his frantic attempt to become the Iron Lad without Tony watching him like a hawk. Maybe he could ask Tony for another one. The billionaire did have extras.

Flash had been talking his ear off in the entirety of English, discussing something about Spider-Man borrowing his father’s car once. Harley had been listening for the first part, but as the story warped into just the teenager rambling on about his favourite hero, he put his head down to work. Flash seemed to notice, changing up his conversation to a topic Harley was a little more friendly with.

‘Did you know Parker keeps saying he has an internship at Stark Industries?’ The teen fought back to hold in his bubbling laughter.

‘He said he has what?’ Harley asked innocently, snickering. ‘I’m there all the time and I’ve never seen him.’ It was a dirty lie and he knew it, but what was the harm in having a little fun?

‘Oh, this is gold,’ Flash abandoned his textbook, searching for his phone. ‘Finally proof that little shit is a nasty liar.’

‘Proof? What have you been plotting, dude?’

‘Penis has been saying he had an internship since sophomore year,’ the teen explained. ‘No one really believes it but he won’t give it up and it’s a real issue.’

‘Well, we should confront him, shouldn’t we,’ Harley smirked, grinning as his friend nodded enthusiastically.

‘Parker!’ He called, chasing the boy down the hallway, Flash eagerly hot on his heels. The teen spun around, and Harley’s stomach dropped, sharing a gaze with the teenager in front of him. He not only was wearing a branded Stark Industries hoodie, but in tiny letters, the initials ‘H.K’ were most definitely embroidered under the breast.

He didn’t want to know how Peter had gotten his hoodie, and he most definitely didn’t want to know why.

‘A Stark Industries hoodie, Penis?’ Flash shoved him towards the wall, snarling. ‘Who are you trying to fool with that fake.’

‘It’s not a fake, Eugene,’ Peter frowned, folding his tense arms over each other. Michelle was beside him, leaning against the lockers with an amused expression and a wide open notebook. He wanted to know what secrets hid inside that. It was hard to read the girl, but he didn’t dare tempt her to retort.

‘He’s right. It isn’t fake,’ Harley shrugged, a smug smile itching at the corner of his mouth. Flash turned to him, a baffled expression on his face. ‘Harley!’

‘What? I’m not gonna deny it,’ he snickered.

‘I can’t believe it, Penis does work at SI?’

‘Nah.’

‘Excuse me?’ Flash was blinking furiously, but then his beady eyes read the tiny letters.

‘You ain’t fooling anyone with my hoodie,’ Harley drawled maliciously. The teenager’s eyes widened, and they were drawn down to the initials on the crest of the hoodie.

‘Shit…I didn’t mean to take…’ The boy flushed, quickly dropping his bag to pull his arms out from the sleeves.

‘Not only is Penis a liar but a thief!’

‘Just keep it,’ Harley rolled his eyes. ‘I have other hoodies that haven’t got you all over it.’

Flash and his friends had begun to turn away, but the cynical girl grabbed his wrist insistently.

‘You can’t just get another one?’ Michelle began to snicker. ‘Not all of us have Stark buying national landmarks for us.’

Harley distastefully shook her hand away, in which she dropped fondly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Her mouth was uncomfortably close to his ear, her short, sharp breaths hot on his neck.

‘I know you’re Iron Lad, Keener,’ the girl sneered in an icy tone.

‘Cool, right?’ He smirked, sharing an intense gaze with the girl.

‘You can’t pretend to be a hero when you don’t help people.’

‘As you probably don’t know, I have saved people before.’

‘You might have “saved” people, but you aren’t all righteous until you pack up your shit and get over yourself.’

‘Why would I when it’s more fun not to?’ He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Plus, your little friend? He needs to be taught a lesson or two sometimes.’

Michelle rolled her eyes, clearly not bothered by him. ‘Fine, do whatever you want, but don’t come back crying when it comes back to bite your ass, which it will.’

‘Alright, sounds good to me,’ Harley drawled, leaving the girl in his dust.

-

‘Hey kid, Happy’s might be late to pick up today, you think you can just hang around at school for a bit?’ Tony’s tone was apologetic.

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ Peter responded nonchalantly, not really too concerned. He’d been excited to work on his suit and the new nanotech they’d been installing, but it could wait for another hour if it needed. He knew Tony had been busy with the accords and repairing the team’s relationship with all sorts of odd bonding activities. The latest one had been paintball, which Peter had tagged along with, and he could definitely see how it was helping (even if it encouraged Sam and Bucky’s vendetta against him).

‘Cool! See you in the lab,’ the phone clicked into silence and Peter sat down on the front steps of the school, awkwardly waiting for the car.

‘Parker!’

He didn’t like who he turned around to, the group of teens standing with their chests puffed out, looking down at him like he was dead meat.

‘What do you want?’ He sneered at Flash, crossing his arms.

‘We have something to show you,’ the boy taunted. ‘Thought you’d like to see.’

‘I don’t, actually,’ he scowled, stepping away, backwards, until he hit a wall.

It wasn’t a wall, unless a wall could have arms and a grip that was certainly stronger than anything he’d experienced at school.

‘Darlin, you’ll love it, trust me,’ Harley smirked, beginning to drag him. Flash went first, followed by Harley, Peter and the rest of the cackling cronies.

‘I’m supposed to be waiting for Mr Stark,’ he hissed to the boy.

Harley’s smug face didn’t falter. ‘Then you’ll tell Mr Stark you ran into your locker, ‘kay?’

The cronies snickered loudly, shuffling behind him.

‘Fuck off,’ he shook his arms away, but by then they’d reached the side of the school near the disposal bins, its towering brick walls and secluded space telling him they weren’t here to play nice.

Flash smashed his fist into Peter’s shoulder but the boy didn't even flinch.

‘Damn it,’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re weak, Flash.’

‘Oh shut it, Penis, or we’ll do it for you,’ the teen shoved him backwards into the wall. His shirt grazed the bricks harshly, but Peter had been dragged limp through concrete. This was nothing but a light scratch.

‘Nah, I think I’ll keep talking,’ he grinned smugly, jolting to the side as another teen’s fist collided with the wall. The boy let out a yelp, rubbing his knuckles frantically.

‘Have you ever punched someone?’ Peter snickered, covering his mouth as a laugh slipped from his throat.

‘Like you have,’ Flash hissed. ‘Someone grab him!’

In all the tension, Harley had stood back, his demeanour more anxious than the overly-confident cronies at the front.

‘Harles, baby, you’re looking a little too comfortable back there,’ he cooed maliciously. ‘Why don’t you try and take a hit?’

The boy scowled, but Flash urged him to the front, stepping away for the first time. Harley swallowed, looking a little reluctant. Eventually after he was coaxed forward, he raised his fist and swung.

Peter didn’t move. He didn’t plan on moving.

The force hit him greater than he’d planned. His head smashed into the bricks, the boy’s knuckles snapping his nose into a bleeding mess. The group of teens erupted into laughter, jumping at him instantaneously with weaker, but still slightly painful, blows to his shoulder, then his arms, then his face.

‘That’s more like it,’ Flash jeered, smirking.

Peter cracked his nose back into its normal shape, gritting his teeth as fiery pain shot through his skin, now aware his hands were drenched in blood. Spitting it at the ground, he made eye contact with Harley again.

‘Come at me,’ he barked, shaking away the pain from the other boys’ attempts at assault. His super healing had worked its magic, clearing up the bruises in seconds, but his nose still bled out and down his face. Flash’s cronies gaped at him, realising the boy they were up against was nothing like puny Penis Parker.

‘I ain’t wanting to hurt that pretty face of yours,’ Harley drawled, although his smirk had little weight behind it. Peter was certain he didn’t really want to, but what choice did he have?

‘I can take it,’ he spat out again, grinning wildly and wiping his nose with his scarlet-soaked sleeve. He stepped away from the brick wall, cornering Flash in. The boy swallowed, although he still oozed of confidence that he could win against Penis Parker.

‘Flash, move,’ Harley urged a little too quickly, but Peter threw a faux blow, grinning maliciously as his fist stopped inches from the boy’s face. Flash flinched dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would block the impact.

The teen behind him jumped at neck, his hands wrapping around and squeezing at his throat. Peter avoided the boy’s tight grip with ease, knocking him back as he escaped the grasp.

‘How are you still alive in this fucking city?’ He doubled over in laughter, expelling more blood from his mouth. Then another fist collided with his body, just below the neck, and for the second time, Peter was shocked at Harley’s strength compared to the others.

His head snapped back, his shoulders absorbing the punch with not enough grace. Then Harley sent another punch to his jaw and Peter didn’t need to rehear the crunch it made when it split in two.

‘Parker, get up and look at yourself,’ Harley jeered, his southern drawl venomous.

‘Just…fuck off,’ he managed to choke out.

‘You said it yourself, man, you can take it,’ one of Flash’s cronies had spoken up, weakly, but still attempted to involve himself in the fight. Harley stuck his arm out to get him to back down, before stepping closer to Peter, stopping at only a couple inches of distance. Softly, he lifted his hand so it barely grazed Peter’s tearing jaw.

‘Jesus, look at what you’ve done,’ Harley lulled cruelly.

Peter didn’t flinch, but it sent strange shivers down his spine as the teen gently cradled it.

‘I can’t believe it, you're so desperate for pain.’

He didn’t drop his hand even after a couple of seconds, but by then, Peter had decided he’d had enough of being the bigger person. A smug grin twitched at his mouth which the teen seemed to notice, but by then it was too late, because his knee smashed into Harley’s thigh before he sent a punch to the boy’s upper arm. Neither place was going to cause much damage, if he pulled his attacks enough, but to a regular person, it would hurt like a bitch. He smiled wryly, wiping at his face as the boy stumbled back onto the concrete noisily. He looked up at him with both a terrified although comprehending expression, as if something had clicked in his head.

Peter pulled his punches, even when up against muggers. He didn’t really know the extent of his powers because he was never in a situation where he had to. Captain America once said that Spider-Man could decapitate a human in one blow, but surely that wasn’t true, right? As Peter finally hit the boy, to him, it probably felt like barely a slap in the face, but Harley had been thrown back instantly, practically crumpling onto the ground. Flash and his cronies rushed to the scene, ignoring Peter as he took off, secret identity be damned. They knew he wasn’t weak, what was strange about being able to run faster than normal?

Underoos:

I felt kind of sick after school, I’ll just meet you tomorrow

Iron Man:

Feel better soon, kid! If you need Happy to send you some chicken noodle soup or $10,000 cash, hmu

-

‘Harley Keener, Tony Stark’s new protégé has been revealed as the infamous Iron Lad, taking to the sky in a flashy new suit,’ the news reporter spoke through Peter’s phone speaker. Sighing miserably, he rolled his shoulder and winced as it hit a sore spot. His body had healed mostly, but he hadn’t predicted that Harley could actually punch. He guessed being Iron Lad probably had something to do with it, but the reasoning didn’t stop him from carrying around an ice pack strapped to the skin surrounding his trapezius. Ned peered over his screen as they hid behind Peter’s laptop screen, ignoring MJ as she barked at the Decathlon’s other members. The hero had stopped a mugging, barely saving a young family while holding off two goons with an uzi.

‘He’s so inexperienced,’ Peter snickered. Ned nodded in agreement, replaying the clip over and over until both boys broke out in a fit of giggles.

‘Parker, Leeds,’ MJ snapped, throwing her whiteboard marker at them, hitting Peter in the face. ‘Concentrate.’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Peter apologised through choking laughter. Flash looked over at them, whispering into Harley’s ear before they too began to snicker. He couldn’t even breathe without one of them mocking him.

Luckily, MJ seemed to notice them too and decided to throw her limitless pack of flashcards at Harley’s head. The boy yelped, rubbing his forehead intently.

‘Now can you all shut up, or the whole team has to recount all the countries in Oceania while doing pushups,’ the teenager hissed, tapping the whiteboard with her other remaining whiteboard marker. That promptly shut them up, and MJ went back to her drill-sergeant-style Decathlon training.

-

‘This super awesome new Star Wars lego just came out,’ Ned exclaimed happily, practically vibrating as he sat beside the two, holding his friend’s legs down as Peter bobbed up and down in a comfortable sit-up. MJ rolled her eyes, although fondly, and continued to hold her sketchbook open in case the opportunity arose. She never participated in P.E, and the school seemed not bothered by it.

‘Dude, that’s awesome, we have to go get it,’ Peter grinned, the boy’s head appearing in and out of sight as he engaged his core. Surely if he asked Tony, the billionaire wouldn’t even have to cave in to buy the several hundred dollar set, but his stomach twisted every time the man spent even a cent on him. Although, lego was something he could bypass.

‘It’s almost $500,’ Ned complained loudly, and the girl beside them had then begun to sketch out his face.

‘Just ask Stark, he’s got a couple of millions lying around,’ MJ shrugged nonchalantly, her pencil glued to her notebook. ‘What? It’s not like it hurts his pockets.’

‘Peter can’t just ask Tony Stark for a lego set,’ Ned’s eyes widened incredulously.

‘I think I probably can, but just this time,’ he sighed, taking a shaky breath as his P.E teacher blinked at him, noticing his sudden athleticism.

Peter was not denying he was an eavesdropper. It was no worse than the other hobbies teens had, like smoking pot or hooking up in hallways, and sure it could be described as rude, but it was Flash and Harley. He really didn’t care too much. At first, they were talking about boring teenage smack, but then he heard his name uttered and they all broke out into tear-breaking laughter.

They really couldn’t go a day without bringing him up. Damn, he was popular.

‘I don’t get it,’ Flash gawked. ‘His nose is like…perfect…how has it healed so quickly?’

Harley shrugged at the teen. ‘I dunno, but it sure is annoying.’

‘Maybe you should punch him harder.’

‘Here? I don’t think that's…’

‘It’s what?’ Flash frowned, smirking. ‘It’s just Penis Parker. Whatever stunt he pulled last night was a fluke, man.’

‘Y’know what, you’re right,’ Harley muttered, taking a deep breath as he finished his last sit up. His eyes had been locked on Peter and his constant sit ups that he executed flawlessly for about ten minutes. It was impossible that this boy, the weakest looking teen he’d ever seen, could pack a punch, and a strong one.

‘I can’t wait to build this set, you should come over tomorrow,’ the boy exclaimed excitedly.

And, instead of utilising that strength, he was like a little kid, talking about lego.

‘Yo, Parker,’ Flash barked. ‘You’re looking a little too comfortable there. Need something to keep you down?’ The boy held up his fist, waving it inconspicuously. The teen’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he opened his mouth for a second, before closing it again.

‘Just leave me alone,’ Peter pleaded, wiping sweat from his forehead and silently praying to not have to bear Flash’s griping. His friends looked up concernedly, but Harley shook off their juxtaposing looks with a wide grin. Harley cracked his muscles menacingly, tilting his head so the boy on the ground would get his message. Peter stood up, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt.

‘Um, dude,’ Ned hissed, looking at him with concern.

‘What?’

‘Your…your torso,’ he coughed awkwardly, pointing down to the muscles that were very much revealed to anyone who turned around.

‘Shit, shit, Ned, what do I do?’

‘For starters, you can start paying attention to what’s going on around you,’ MJ appeared from behind them, amused. ‘And how Keener is gawking at your abs.’

‘Not at all,’ the teen taunted, his eyes scanning Peter’s body mockingly.

‘Jealous?’ He grinned smugly, lifting the hem of his shirt barely an inch up his torso. Even then, he still caught the teen’s expression faltering, even if for a split second.

‘Y’know, I don’t have to be jealous of something I already have,’ he motioned a knock to his stomach. ‘It’s really not that impressive.’

‘Defensive really is not a good look on you, Texas,’ MJ tapped the sketchbook in her grasp with a blunt pencil. She must’ve gotten a lot of material, which frankly, was worrying.

‘I’m from Tennessee, you pretentious geek,’ he retorted, although the insult didn’t have as much weight as he’d hoped because the girl just sniffed, highly unamused.

-

‘Peter Parker, Harley Keener, please make your way to the front office immediately after the bell rings,’ a monotonous voice cracked over the intercom. Peter’s head snapped up from his chemistry desk, fumbling to hide the new web fluid concoction he’d hid in the cabinet underneath. He could sense the other teen’s eye on him, followed by a collection of snickering from the tables surrounding him.

‘Penis is gonna be in deep shit,’ Flash’s malicious tone caught his ear, his conversation with Harley no short of insults about Peter. ‘The sooner he gets expelled, the less bullshit I have to hear about his ‘internship’ at Stark Industries.’

Harley and his cronies erupted into wild laughter, standing up from their seats just as the bell rang over the speakers. Swallowing slowly, Peter slung his bag with the stolen beaker over his shoulder, miserably following the flood of students racing to leave the classroom.

‘Good luck, soldier,’ Ned emerged behind him and patted his shoulder, doing a mock arm salut. ‘I will forever remember you.’

‘Thanks, man,’ Peter smiled weakly, following up with their handshake. He farewelled Ned with a short wave, letting his footsteps drag till the hall cleared out.

‘I’ll catch up to y’all,’ he could hear Harley joking triumphantly in front of him, still swarmed with Flash’s troop. ‘Parker won’t know what hit him.’

All Peter could do was roll his eyes before the group dispersed and Harley dropped back to walk with him.

‘You excited for your suspension?’ He smirked, shoving him lightly.

‘Plenty,’ he retorted quietly. ‘It means more time away from you and your brain dead minions.’

‘What was that, darlin’?’

Peter shut his mouth, speeding up slightly, but the other teen was still hot on his heels.

‘I’m sure Principal Morita would love to know that you’ve also been threatening me, the new student,’ Harley shrugged.

‘Go for it,’ Peter replied weakly, finally managing to outwalk the boy who was snickering to himself.

May was unimpressed to say the least as she so pleasantly greeted him outside the office. ‘Pete, what am I doing here?’ She frowned, a stern look on her face. ‘I had to get Catherine to fill my shift and well you know, she already works more hours than I do…’

‘I didn’t expect him to go tell people,’ he mumbled quietly, dropping his bag gently at his feet.

May began to massage her temples, shutting her eyes briefly. ‘I get you have these super awesome powers and you can just beat up villains, but you can’t just punch another teenager!’

‘He punched me first!’

His aunt’s eyes widened and she sighed. ‘Well, you could've said that a minute ago.’

‘Well you didn’t really give me an opportunity to explain…’

‘Ms Parker, Peter. Principal Morita is ready to see you.’

Squeezing his aunt’s hand, Peter followed the secretary into the office. His heart thumped in his chest, but it hadn’t yet occurred to him why he was so nervous.

Harley was already inside, lounging miserably on an office chair beside his all-too-familiar guardian.

‘Harls, whoever this punk is, I’ll block him from whatever college you want. Y’know what? I’ll just contact all the ivies, I have a guy at MIT who owes me his life…’

‘Mr Stark?’ Principal Morita interrupted. The man looked up from his speech and before Peter knew it, they’d made uncomfortable eye contact. The genius flashed him a confused look, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to decode what situation they were in.

‘Mr Stark, Ms Parker, you both should be aware why we are here today.’

‘You think we could have a refresher?’ Tony blinked, raising his blackout sunglasses.

Principal Morita clasped his hands over his desk. ‘There has been an anonymous complaint of Peter Parker exhibiting aggression towards Harley Keener,’ he explained. ‘He is one of our newest students, Ms Parker.’ He’d turned towards Peter’s aunt, whose expression was stoic.

‘The student, who will remain nameless, described the situation as that Mr Parker had attacked Harley after hours. However, it has supposedly occurred on school property, so it is still up to the school for future action.’

Tony arched a brow, raising his sunglasses as he rubbed his hands together. Peter Parker, the boy who would befriend anything with a heartbeat, and maybe without one too, had punched his kid?

‘Harley, is Peter definitely the one that attacked you?’

‘Undeniably so,’ the boy smirked for a moment before masking his smug attitude with misery. ‘Right in the jaw.’

Peter had to stop himself from standing up and actually clocking him in the jaw.

‘Mr Parker, do you have anything to add?’

He could sense May’s willingness to interject but it was no use anyway. Even if Harley had said Peter had bitten him and injected spider venom into his blood, Principal Morita wouldn’t disagree with someone whose guardian was Tony Stark.

Funnily enough, he didn’t realise Harley’s written guardian was the billionaire. He’d never seen the boy around the tower enough to make a solid guess, but it made sense.

He inhaled sharply, giving May a short smile before sitting up straight.

‘I did it. I punched him,’ he spoke abruptly, fast enough that the words weren’t going to die before he had a chance to get it all out. For a second, it was so silent that even to normal ears, you could hear the soft whirring of the air conditioner.

Tony turned to May, hoping that she could telepathically get his message of confusion or at least reciprocate his feelings. She blinked, slightly dumbfounded at her nephew’s sudden speech, but when her eyes shifted to Harley her eyes had narrowed slightly. The boy didn’t seem to pick up on it, but she knew something Tony didn’t, and it was weird. His eyes had widened, still utterly dumbfounded by the display in front of him. He hadn’t yet managed to get his head around that his kid, friendly and easy to get along with, had punched his other kid.

He did catch the small smile that Harley displayed when Peter had spoken again.

Peter was a good kid, but maybe his priorities had changed?

‘Mr Parker, thank you for admitting your mistakes,’ Midtown’s principal noted.

‘It wasn’t a mistake. I intentionally did it,’ the kid spoke again, his tone snappy and frankly, it was unusual.

‘Well, anyway, you’ll have detention after school for the next two weeks,’ the principal’s respective tone had vanished and suddenly he was less than impressed with the kid.

‘Um, well, if that’s all,’ Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing that he wasn’t in a school meeting but his lab, blasting music louder than a healthy amount to drown out the warping thoughts in his head. He stood up, following May and her nephew out of the room and feeling awkward for the first time in probably forty years. He hadn’t remembered this horrible feeling, except for the first and last time when he was four years old and still too young to really understand it.

‘Peter,’ he nodded at the kid. The boy reciprocated the same awkward smile before attempting to turn away.

‘You still coming over to the lab tonight?’ He offered, outstretching his hand.

‘Uh,’ Peter glanced nervously towards his aunt, but May seemed to not give an obvious sign of confirmation. ‘Sure.’

Harley waved goodbye to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Peter’s shoulders drop a little, as if a weight had been lifted.

‘I just have to, um, grab something from my locker.’ The boy seemed hesitant, but Tony nodded Peter off as he practically scurried from the office.

Tony turned to May, dropping the facade he’d upheld in front of the two boys. ‘What was that?’

The woman arched a brow, her arms folded over her chest. ‘Pete told me something about Harley hitting him first.’

The genius blinked, turning his head as to rehear the ridiculous information he’d just been told.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m guessing Harley didn’t say anything about hanging out with Flash Thompson?’ May frowned. ‘You know, the boy who’s been bullying Peter since their freshman year.’

-

Harley had regrouped with Flash and his cronies, snickering collectively as Peter sped towards them.

‘Guess you’re a snitch then,’ He snarled, fiddling with his locker. He had to physically restrain himself from just pulling the locker off, but he didn’t need another tattle tail up his ass.

‘I didn’t say anything, darlin’,’ the boy drawled. ‘I can’t help it if someone else does, though.’

The group of teens turned to him with scowling expressions, but then Flash spoke up. ‘Penis, party at my house in a couple of Fridays. Don’t be a loser and turn up.’

‘Why would I want to do that, Flash?’

‘Surely you don’t want to commit social suicide, right? We’re doing you a favour.’

Peter rolled his eyes, slamming his locker shut. Sure, he would believe the guy that outed him to the principal.

Peter slid into the back of the car silently, ignoring Tony’s inquisitive stare from the front of the car. There was a tense change in the atmosphere, and he didn’t know whether to speak up or stay quiet.

‘Is Harley coming?’ Peter asked, peering out of the window for the blonde boy.

‘Nope, he’s going to Flash’s.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay,’ Peter breathed a sigh of relief, his tense body unclenching as he dumped his ratty bag on the pristine leather seats beside him.

‘Is there something you want to talk to me about?’ Tony asked, turning his head from the driver’s seat.

‘No.’

‘Kid, you don’t have to bottle your problems up,’ he tried gently, but all Peter wanted to do was go to the lab and ignore all the questions he kept getting asked.

‘Can we talk about this later?’ He offered weakly, tilting his head to look out the window.

‘If that’s what you want,’ Tony nodded, taking a shaky, hesitant breath and starting the car.

Chapter Text

‘Kid, is that that the new lego you begged me for?’ Tony stepped into the living room with an eternal cup of black coffee in one hand and his hopes and dreams in the other. Ted looked up with stars in his eyes, fumbling with the pieces of lego in his fingers.

‘Yep,’ Peter grinned widely. ‘Five thousand, two hundred and twenty two pieces.’

‘Good to know my money is being spent on something worthwhile,’ Tony exclaimed, arching a brow.

‘Lego is worthwhile!’ He protested, frowning.

‘Sure, kid, sure.’

‘Just like how buying your own merchandise is,’ the boy muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for Tony and Jed to catch it.

‘Excuse me,’ the genius gaped, affronted at Peter’s cruel words.

‘It’s like a shrine, Tony,’ he complained, his brown curls bouncing as he shook his head.

‘Like you wouldn’t have one yourself.’

‘Nope! Just bobbleheads…’

‘And sheets, and pillows, and that stuffy Shuri sent you…’ Tony continued on smugly, listing all the paraphernalia off the top of his head. Fred’s eyes were popping out of his head, and the genius wasn’t sure whether he was awestruck or ready to burst out in laughter.

‘Fine, maybe those too.’

‘See, I’m right,’ Tony grinned proudly, but his kid just rolled his eyes and shooed him away with a lego-filled hand.

Harley scowled from the doorframe as Peter and his friend sat on the floor of the living room, thousands of plastic pieces scattered across the carpet haphazardly. Tony was ushered away by the boy, disappearing into the hallway until the two teens were alone. Finally taking his opportunity, he sauntered into the living room with his phone.

‘Aren’t you a little old to be playing with legos?’ He drawled, rolling his eyes. Parker only sighed dramatically, throwing a pillow at him.

‘Aren’t you a little old to be making fun of people?’ The boy looked him up and down disparagingly, a smirk emerging at his lips.

‘It’s not my fault you’re like a toddler.’

‘A toddler that beat you up,’ Ned interjected, grinning.

‘Watch out, Keener, don’t step on a lego on your way out,’ Peter snickered, eyeing him a little too intently.

His next footstepstep was brutal, a thin shard slicing into his foot like a knife. He bit back a cry, deciding for a rotten sting of curses instead. He scowled widely, scanning the floor for the vile culprit. There lay a grey two-by-four brick, laying on its side and definitely the reason he was seething. Peter snorted audibly, but his head was back down focusing on his stupid little plastic bricks.

-

‘So I really think we could build our own lightsaber,’ Peter explained, showing his best friend the notebook and his new sketches.

Ned grinned widely, stealing the boy’s pencil to make markings for coding in the margins. ‘Man, we have to make this, like imagine how awesome…’

There was an obliterating shriek, and a sound wave that traveled through the chemistry classroom, smashing test tubes and knocking the wind out of every student. Ms Warren blinked, before calmly opening the classroom door and directing the horrified students out the door.

‘Everyone, head to the gym for a school lockdown,’ she commanded, ushering the teens as they flooded out the door.

‘Call me when the fight’s over, dude,’ Ned nodded at Peter as they dispersed, the teen following the pack as his friend went to go save them. Peter noticed Harley make a beeline for the exit, deciding it would be safer for Spider-Man to go another way. He darted for the opposite window, throwing himself out inconspicuously and onto the roof. He prayed that he was alone, immediately stripping off his outer clothes and pulling the suit from his bag. It stretched over his skin but he pressed the icon in the middle of his chest, the material becoming skintight. He webbed his bag to the wall, hoping it would be there when he got back, because May didn’t need to buy him another school bag. He launched a web, swinging towards the soundwave, soaring through the air as he was met by a very familiar voice.

‘Spidey, attach a web to me and I’ll fly us to the scene,’ Iron Lad spoke cheerfully, and although Peter was reluctant to listen, he did so with no protest. The boy zipped through the air towards a skyscraper, numerous explosions a signal that the fight had already started. Peter dropped from his web, shooting a new one at the building as he swung through the glass. Window panes bedazzled the floor like glitter, sparkling as Peter skidded past them.

‘Hey Cap!’ He waved at the super soldier, swinging from the roof and landing beside him.

‘Hey Queens, I haven’t seen you at the tower in a while,’ Steve exclaimed concernedly, following him into the empty stairwell. It was surrounded with complete darkness, except for tiny dim lights that lined the walls.

‘Oh, I’ve been busy,’ Peter shrugged, racing up the stairs.

‘The target is raiding the tower on the 54th floor,’ Steve spoke through the comms, aware of the heroes’ presences. ‘It’s HYDRA.’

‘Cool, cool, cool, any weird or possibly life-threatening weaponry?’ Peter raised an eyebrow, pushing open the door to the fight.

They’d stepped onto a seemingly mundane office floor, of course except for the drawers stacked with confidential documents guarded by HYDRA agents with inhumane weapons. Iron Man and Nat were midway through their search, rifling through boxes of documents, torching and tearing them ever so often. Clint was busy spearing through HYDRA criminals while Bucky, Sam and Iron Lad beat up the rest.

‘You are supposed to be at school,’ Tony hissed as he spoke through the comms. Peter sighed, praying Harley would take the man’s comment with a grain of salt.

‘School’s on lockdown,’ Iron Lad exclaimed, assuming the genius meant him. ‘You wanted me to just stay put?’

‘Preferably, yes,’ Tony responded quickly, smashing a HYDRA worker through the skull as he rummaged through another box. ‘Your priority is to not get hurt and not touch…nevermind…look at anything that could be confidential or dangerous.’

‘So…everything in here?’

‘Yep, keep your eyes on the bad guys, kid,’ Tony agreed pleasantly and torched a box of files with his repulsor. It burst into flames before exploding, and Nat shielded her eyes as ash ascended through the air. ‘Don’t go near any of that, either.’

‘So what the hell do I do?’ He huffed, knocking the heads of two brawny HYDRA agents together. Peter ducked behind a desk as a goon fired another sound wave, webbing the machinery away and launching it towards Bucky. The super soldier caught it swiftly, examining it before wordlessly tossing it at Iron Man.

A HYDRA agent escaped through the emergency staircase, and multiple Avengers began to chase after him, as well as the majority of the remaining criminals.

The fight escalated downstairs, goons falling like rotting corpses down the stairwell. Peter paled as he caught sight of two people, one a grown man in a hospital gown, the other a little girl, not any older than 10 and tangled with all kinds of wires and IV drips.

Harley was standing alone, unsure of what to do, only metres from the young girl and her father.

‘Iron Lad, get the civilians!’ Peter snapped, narrowly dodging another beam of light by arching above it.

‘Woah, Spidey,’ Sam exclaimed from beside him, slamming a criminal with his wings before launching them into the wall.

‘Fine, fine,’ Iron Lad said through gritted teeth, shoving past as he ushered civilians down the fire escape.

‘Not the fucking stairwell,’ he spoke through gritted teeth. ‘There are HYDRA agents in there.’

‘Language, Underoos! You might give Steve a heart attack, y’know he’s an old man,’ Tony joked, earning a groan from the super soldier.

Iron Lad sighed exaggeratedly, picking up both people under his arms and heading for the window.

‘Iron Lad, I’ll go,’ Tony spoke again, more serious. ‘There’s only a few more agents, I’ll meet you guys down at ground level.’

And with that, the genius took the man and the girl, zooming out the window and down to the ground. Peter smashed his fist into another HYDRA worker, kicking him in the guts before throwing him aside. He didn’t plan on killing anyone, leaving that the adults and hopefully not Harley would deal with the unconscious bodies later. The remaining Avengers took out the last of the agents, disappearing down to ground level as promised.

Peter had just about fixed up the level back to normal as a low growl erupted from behind him.

‘Finally, the newbies,’ the man grinned toothily, reloading the weapon in his hands. It glowed ominously, a lot like the one Peter had recovered only recently. Iron Lad raised his repulsor uneasily, but all Spider-Man could do was giggle.

‘Someone hasn’t been in New York for very long,’ Peter snickered, firing a web at the man and knocking him backwards. ‘I own this city.’

‘I don’t care, boy, my orders are for you to be dead,’ the man sneered, rigging up his weapon. The man held out the machinery, energy pulsing from it like a heartbeat, aimed straight at the boy with electrical armor.

Peter’s spider sense was no longer just a tingling feeling, but it was burning like lava on his skin. Goddamnit.

Peter jumped in front of Harley, pushing the boy out of the way as he intercepted the searing electric current into his body. Energy coursed through his veins, blood pulsing like it threatened to burst from his skin.

And then everything went dark.

-

Peter woke up slumped against the wall, his suit still mostly intact but completely offline. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the absence of light, taking in his surroundings. He was undoubtedly kidnapped, trapped in a room only maybe ten feet wide, a tiny window peeking out with a shred of light. Under the shred of sunlight sat another figure, propped up against the opposing wall beside the bolted door. It was so dark that Peter couldn’t make out any identifying clues except for the person being in a metal alloy suit.

Iron Man? War Machine?

The figure in the suit shifted with a screech, huffing loudly as he stood up. By now, Tony would’ve had a quippy retort or an unhelpful comment, but nada.

That left him with two more options. An air force officer or an asshole.

‘Oh, fuck,’ a voice appeared from the suit, and it was not coming from an air force officer. Peter didn’t move, purposely frozen as the Iron Lad stumbled to his feet, chunky machinery clankling as he stood up.

‘Iron Lad, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Peter asked incredulously, still taking in his surroundings

‘Getting us out of here,’ the boy huffed through his helmet, blasting fiery shots at the door. ‘Shit, what is this…vibranium?’

‘Yeah, it is,’ Peter scowled, physically restraining himself from webbing the boy to the wall so he could handle this on his own. ‘Your repulsors don't have nearly as much power as Tony’s, so don’t expect it to do anything.’

‘At least I’m trying,’ Harley hissed, his face plate retracting as he dropped his hand. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Don’t question my authority, Keener,’ he snapped, still slouched against the wall. ‘I can’t do anything until you stop firing energy at my target.’

‘Fine then, try.’

‘Maybe I won’t. You seem plenty happy to stay here.’

‘And we wait for those goons outside to shoot us?’ Harley exclaimed, attempting a shot at the bolts. They didn’t budge, only barely sparking.

‘You’re protected, so I don’t see the issue. I’m the one without bulletproof armour.’

‘What’s your issue with me, Spidey?’ He barked, crossing his arms.

‘You’re inexperienced, goddamnit, are you…are you crazy?’ He shoved the boy against the wall, armour and all be damned.

‘I…wanted to help, Spider-Man, I’m sorry,’ the boy huffed through numerous short breaths.

‘I really thought, y’know, maybe you’d learn your place,’ Peter rambled. ‘But no, you had to interfere with something damn well too dangerous for you.’

The teen was almost at a loss of words, a guilt ridden expression on his face as Peter pinned him up.

‘I don’t think we need to interfere. They seem to be doing just fine on their own,’ he could barely make out the sound of the goons outside. Peter’s breathing began to intensify, swallowing as the two men outside went silent again. He didn’t need to bet that if HYDRA locked themselves in a room with them, the teens wouldn’t be the successors. That, and the chance that the terrorist group would pump Peter with all kinds of disgusting drugs, making him into some mind-controlled half-spider super freak.

‘Maybe if you weren’t so intent on getting in my way, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place,’ Harley had seemed to gain his obnoxious confidence back, snapping suddenly.

Peter ripped off his mask, making direct eye contact. The teen was instantly frantic not to share a gaze with him, but he didn’t break contact until he was certain he was being looked at.

‘Peter?’

‘God, you’re so stupid!’ He moaned exhaustedly. ‘Because you had to try and do something you couldn’t do in a situation of life and death, you almost got us both killed!’

Harley’s eyes were like saucers, wide and glassy.

‘Now, Tony’s gonna come looking for us and y’know who he’s going to blame? The newbie or the one who “shouldn’t have gotten you into this mess”.’

‘I could’ve handled it,’ the teen scowled, slightly agitated.

‘No, you couldn’t. It was difficult for me, and I’ve been doing this shit since I was fourteen,’ Peter snarled. ‘When the guy you’re fighting has alien tech, you don’t test your limits and you stick to your skill level!’

‘You seem to be bluffing a whole lot for someone who lets himself get beaten up by Flash,’ Harley’s metal gloves suddenly clamped on his shoulders, squeezing harder at the muscle. Peter frowned, aware of the other teen’s distasteful change in tone when mentioning his friend. Seething, he reached up, pushing hard to get them from snapping his collarbone in two. The metal snapped off like a bulldog clip but Harley stepped back, grinning cruelly. Peter pulled his mask back on and lunged forward, holding together both Harley’s wrists like handcuffs. There was a roaring detonation of explosion outside of the room and the echoing of trampling footsteps, but Peter ignored it, squeezing the armour gloves further until his fingers indented in the metal.

‘Fuck off,’ Harley huffed, summoning his jets and flying a few feet backwards. Peter webbed his left boot jet and the boy flailed midair, catching himself with a stronger blast to even himself out.

Harley seemed to fire haphazardly, so Peter jumped at him, dragging him downwards and onto the ground. He choked out on impact as Harley straddled him, keeping him clamped to the ground.

‘I like this position,’ the southern boy drawled, smirking.

‘At least take me out on a date first, damn,’ Peter mocked him, launching a taut web above him that pulled him out from under. He swung backwards and with ample momentum, kicking into the boy’s chest who flew backwards.

‘Get…off…me,’ the teen choked, crashing into the damp wall with a reverberating thud. Peter pinned him up, his body parallel to the latter’s.

Harley’s mock arc reactor exploded with obliterating light and Peter was thrown across the room, his torso slamming into the concrete wall followed by the boy in front of him. As Harley pinned him by his shoulders, numbly, Peter webbed Harley’s arc reactor blaster with his free hand. Sparks burnt and threatened his bandage of silk as he thrashed against the wall. Harley lifted him off the ground, smashing his spine into the wall repeatedly as Peter bit down a malicious string of curse words, ones May would disown him for.

‘What would happen if we went hand-to-hand,’ Peter grinned slightly, inhaling sharply and twisting his body around so the Iron Lad suit was against the wall instead of him. His biceps pulsed tenderly as Harley used his boot jets to force him back, his fist smashing at him violently.

Peter fumbled for his webs, throwing web bullets at the boy to hinder his movement, even just for a second. Harley was midway through a shot as sticky silk knocked his arm, his hand midway through a blast.

His repulsor struck Peter across the torso, drawing across his stomach and scorching the suit that sparked away atop his flesh. Peter doubled over onto his knees, a begging sob threatening at his throat. Inhaling sharply, he discarded his mask and took a shaky breath. His suit had been slashed through, skin bleeding rapidly and staining his exposed flesh with scarlet. The door dropped from its hinges with an echoing thud, but Peter didn’t even turn his head, his eyes still locked on the teenager in front of him.

Peter bit back a humourless laugh, still biting away the stabbing pain. ‘You are nothing without that suit.’

‘Yeah, but with it, I’m winning against you.’

Through gritted teeth, he spat out. ‘If you’re nothing without the suit then you shouldn’t have it.’

Peter didn’t flinch as Captain America’s shield dropped to the floor with a vibrating clatter. He didn’t have to share a gaze with Steve nor Tony for very long to feel absolutely, completely gutted. Tony, at a loss of words, vacillated between the two teens who were still very much at each other.

-

Tony and Steve inched through the halls, both men on high alert as they scoured the dingy hallways. They’d followed their signals out to Norway, somewhere in a small city isolated from society.

Steve peered through the tiny window of a rotting doorway, muttering through the comms about their bleak observations. Tony’s eyes flickered through the darkness, straining for eerie silhouettes.

‘FRI, activate night vision,’ he breathed, pushing through the seemingly abandoned HYDRA base. There were still pieces of tech, coated with a thick carpet of dust like whoever had been working here had up and left. The walls dripped of moisture, an overall decaying fog following them like a ghost. Steve held up his shield, smashing it into the door lock as it swung open, slamming into the wall with a reverberating metal thud. The room reeked of corpses and toxic chemicals, dimly lit except for a flickering light in the middle of the room, illuminating a derelict leather chair and its brutally torn metal restraints. It was surrounded by shattered computer screens, like someone had ripped from the chair in a frenzy, causing a wreckage and for the rest of the terrorist organisation to make a run for it. Steve examined the sight, taking a shaky breath before turning to leave the room.

‘Nothing’s here,’ the super soldier muttered, directing Tony from the room.

‘Scan the premises,’ the billionaire murmured to his AI, the suit sensing heat through the base and stopping as two figures appeared through the walls. He didn’t hesitate to blast through the walls, exploding brick and smashing through as he came face to face with the only living remaining HYDRA agents in the base.

‘We didn’t do nothing,’ the first goon shrugged, crossing his thick, tattooed arms over his chest.

‘Yeah, don’t be puttin’ us in the slammer,’ the second exclaimed, dropping his gun on the ground.

‘Great, seems we’re in agreement then,’ Tony snapped. Steve threw his shield out, the vibranium spinning violently and rebounding off the first before snapping the second’s jaw. The two men dropped like flies on the floor, so Tony stepped over them before rattling the drawers of the desk in which they sat in front of. ‘Now what secrets are they hiding; we’ve already gotten their guns, right, Stevie?’

Behind the door was a collection of reverberating thuds and the sound of a choked yell, and Tony’s heart clenched at the thought of what they were doing to his two kids.

‘Cap, let’s just get them, and then figure out what the hell these punks were up to.’ He raised a hesitant hand and blasted the door, its thick panel falling to the ground with a clunk. ‘I’ll ask Nat to leave Barnes and Jolly Green at the quinjet and come find us.’

Steve was the first to enter, but instead of engaging in combat, he dropped his shield, turned around stiffly and Tony could see the light die from his eyes.

‘Steve, explain to me what’s going on. Where’s Peter and Harley?’

The captain had paled suddenly and Tony had never seen the man so guilt-ridden since…since Siberia.

‘Tony, they’re here.’

He disengaged his faceplate, following the reluctant soldier through the frame and into a tiny room, its walls enclosed but a ceiling towering above them. There was an open window, but it looked out onto endless grey plains and was bolted shut. He’d wondered why they hadn’t just escaped on their own, as it looked so easy.

There was another deafening crunch of bones and Tony’s eyes flickered to his children.

Harley and Peter, his two kids, stood only a couple of feet apart from each other but with so much hatred in their eyes, for each other. Two heroes, two different sides.

And not only were they radiating such hatred, but they were displaying it too.

Now he could understand why Steve was so reluctant, so deathly afraid to enter the room. It was like reliving the accounts of Siberia all over again.

An overpowered individual versus a guy in an advanced suit.

They were at each other with so much aggression that Tony could barely fathom his own vision.

‘You are nothing without that suit,’ Peter sneered, doubling-over on his knees at one end of the tiny room, staring up with malevolence in his eyes. His suit was almost torn to shreds, a harsh bloody line tearing through the middle and leaving him with exposed, burnt flesh.

Without the suit stabilising him, Tony would’ve gone completely numb at the sight of the young teen.

‘Yeah, but with it, I’m winning against you,’ Harley retorted, grinning slightly, his own suit battered and beaten.

Peter took a shaky breath, spitting out blood at the ground and through gritted teeth, he hissed out. ‘If you’re nothing without the suit then you shouldn’t have it.’

As the other boy scowled, the teen jumped at him, biceps tensing as he sent a horrifying blow at the suit, denting it severely and knocking Harley back a couple feet.

‘Cap, shit, grab him!’ Tony yelled, his voice coarse, eyes flickering between the two teens. It was as if Peter’s sentence had just attacked Tony in the chest and ripped out his arc reactor. Steve jumped at Spider-Man, his hands grasping for the boy as Peter threw punch after punch like a ravaging animal. Harley’s chestplate was savagely dented with severe finger marks, barely masking his torso and offering minimal protection from Peter’s brutal blows. In retaliation, Harley haphazardly fired blasts, most likely aimed at the agitated boy, blue fire exploding and sparking around them. A yelp ripped from Peter’s throat after being hit with a spark, letting out a long string of curses in a broken voice. He flinched on the ground, writhing in searing pain, fire tearing through his sparking suit. His mask was gone, but he had a bloodlusting expression on his face, his mouth twitching with a grin every time Harley was hit.

‘Now whose pretty face is ruined again?’ Harley uttered through gritting teeth as he repeatedly slammed Peter into the wall.

‘You’re dead to me.’

Tony’s stomach curled, ready to hurl at the ground. Just the thought of it made him jittery, it was the product of his nightmares right in front of him, a repeated scene from years ago. Steve had escaped from behind Peter, now in between them as he attempted to pull the teen with the weaponized suit from the overpowered one. His muscles tensed as Harley shook away from both men, but Peter seemed to cling to him, launching a pummelling attack every chance he got.

Blood was spilling from Peter’s nose, which he promptly spat at the other boy. He ripped at the remainder of the boy’s helmet, using his super strength to tear it from the rest of the suit. Harley’s face was severely bruised, scarlet dripping down his face in thick droplets. He pummeled a metal fist into Spider-Man’s ribs, a vicious scowl on his face as the other teen intercepted the punch. He folded instantly, crumpling on the floor as Harley launched at him. Peter’s arms shielded his face, absorbing the next attack before shooting out an unforeseen, dazzling web. It seemed to travel through slow motion, sparking electric currents and glitzing like glitter as it speared towards the other teen. Smugly, Peter stood up and took a shaky breath, pausing for the first time since Tony had arrived. Reluctantly reinstating his faceplate, he almost looked away as Harley’s suit seized violently midair, before dropping to the concrete like dead weight.

‘Steve,’ Tony barked, pulling the super soldier back. ‘I don’t know whether they’re holding back.’

‘We can’t…let them turn out like…like us,’ Steve heaved, his voice laced with guilt. ‘They can’t hurt each other…like we did.’

Tony swallowed, picking up Steve’s shield from his feet. It had been years since the two had properly fought each other, and it had taken years for Tony to be able to trust the man and not have an underlying gut feeling that the other Avenger was going to stab him in the back again. Smiling weakly, he handed Steve the shield.

‘We can’t let them make the same mistake we did.’

Peter was ripping apart the Iron Lad suit with his bare, broken hands. Tony had never seen the boy so physically tense, peeling metal from the boy’s torn skin while being pinned against the wall. He’d already discarded Harley’s shoulder plate before he looked the teen in the eye and uttered something vicious. There were a couple of exchanged words before Harley’s mouth moved in retaliation, but whatever he said seemed to set off a fire in Spider-Man’s mind. Barely a second had passed for Peter to take in what the boy had uttered, but after that, Tony knew better than to stand and do nothing.

Up until now, Peter had most certainly been pulling his punches against Harley, but now, Tony was scared that he wouldn’t. The teen had gone from humane levels of strength to Spider-Man levels of strength in just a beat. He knew it, and Harley seemed to catch along too.

Peter tore at the Iron Lad suit rapidly, shredding welded pieces of metal like paper and discarding it with a reverberating clunk on the ground. Harley’s skin would soon be unprotected, his only suit of armour coming apart in front of his eyes. The teen in the suit was now ghostly pale, masking his fear with a humourless laugh. Peter placed his hands between them and pushed Iron Lad at least a couple of feet away so Spider-Man wasn’t pinned to the wall. Harley stumbled back, unable to stand his ground in the metal boots. He turned on his jets, flying at the boy vertically as Peter was again rammed into the wall with an unfriendly crunch. The air was choked out of the boy who let out a groan before going back to stripping Harley of his weaponry. Once Iron Lad’s entire upper torso was exposed, Harley shakily raised his hand towards Peter, but the more experienced boy had the upper hand and knocked his arm away with a web bullet. Tony ducked as a low energy blast soared past his head. His blasters were much more vile, but the genius didn’t want to be hit either way. After flinching, his eyes flickered back to the two boys, their fight unescapable.

Peter’s tense fingers wrapped around Harley’s neck, his thumbs pressing into the boy’s throat. Harley let out a strangled gasp.

It was just like years ago.

Captain America had the shield in his grasp, slamming the vibranium over and over at his faceplate till it dislodged, knocking his head against the concrete. There was a burst of light and crisp, chilly air, and Tony was looking directly up at someone who was once his ally, his friend. Between them was no longer trust, no longer a relationship that could ever be rebuilt. The man lifted the shield above his head, and with the last of his energy, Tony covered his battered face with his hands. He was frozen, stuck underneath the super soldier, about to reach his utter demise by a weapon made by his own father. The shield smashed into his chest, the arc reactor smashing and flickering to darkness as Tony shared a gaze with him, a man he didn’t know anymore.

He couldn’t let the kid make the same mistake.

Tony launched forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed the kid off of Harley and into the wall with a deafening thud, a sound that he never wanted to hear again. Peter cried out in pain, crumbling to the floor beside him while Harley coughed dryly. Steve rushed to Peter’s side, checking for injuries as Tony disabled Harley’s suit and begged for the boy to speak to him.

‘Harles, kid, stay awake,’ he pleaded, sharing a gaze with the glassy-eyed boy. The armor had been bent and shaped in such abnormality that it was impossible to lift the boy from its clutches.

‘Damn, how the hell was he pulling this apart,’ he muttered under his breath as he feebly tried himself. Harley let out a breathless gag, floating in and out of consciousness.

‘Steve, I’m gonna get him out of here,’ he exclaimed over his shoulder as he gave up, picking up the slouching boy over his shoulder and bouldering through the door.

‘Tony…’

The genius didn’t turn around as Harley weakly chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

-

Peter tore at Harley’s suit, ignoring the boy’s silent pleas as he destroyed the armour. It was probably a waste of millions of dollars, but it didn’t matter because Harley wasn’t a hero. He didn’t deserve the suit.

‘What…are you doing…’ the boy managed to get out through a choked breath.

‘Doing something I should’ve done before.’

‘You don’t get to decide what my limit is, Parker.’

‘I am, and I will, unless you want to be fucking decapitated,’ he snarled, gritting his teeth as he pulled at Harley’s chest plate, his veiny fingers intending the metal with deep fingerprints.

‘Do it then,’ the teen hissed out, blocking his punch with his hand.

‘I want to, but I’m not fucked up enough to.’

‘You think Tony would let it slide if I died?’

Peter didn’t answer, pulling back slightly. The other boy took this as an opportunity to smash him in the jaw, and Peter’s head cocked backwards sharply.

‘You won’t do it, because for all your powers, you’re a coward and won’t do what you need to do.’

Peter used his shaking hands to shove Harley away, punching him repeatedly as the boy moaned in anguish.

‘If you hurt me, Tony’s going to run to my side, because you were right. I’m a naive newbie who makes mistakes,’ Harley drawled resentfully, upping his jets as he forced Peter further into the wall.

‘If you hurt me, they will blame you for it and then you’ll have no one.’

‘I already…have…no one…’ Peter choked out, furious tears welling in his eyes. If he even breathed on Harley, Tony wouldn't even look at him and the Avengers would call him crazy, then he’d be kicked out and May probably wouldn’t want someone dangerous like him in her house, right?

Harley balled his fist, plummeting it into his nose. Peter bit back a yell, and locked eyes with the boy. ‘It’s too late now, right?’ He let out a lackadaisical laugh, his fingers straining as Harley’s full upper torso was finally broken out.

‘Damnit, Parker, don’t just look at me,’ he chuckled humorlessly, but Peter paused for a second, taking a shaky breath, in, out, in, out.

Harley raised up a hand, energy warping from his repulsors.

Peter shot out a web bullet quickly, and Harley flinched as a fiery blast erupted from his glove carelessly as his arm rebounded sideways. The teen inhaled sharply, and Peter wrapped both hands around his neck, squeezing tight enough for the boy to thrash against his grip.

‘I have nothing to lose,’ he muttered, blood dripping from his nose. Harley let out a hoarse breath, struggling to catch his breath as Peter, wicked as he was, enjoyed the sharp moment of watching the boy below him for once.

His fingers tensed, almost ready to let go of the straining boy’s throat before hot-rod red metal bolted into his side, smashing into him and sending his body flying limply. A wicked cry tore from his throat as he clutched his crippling hip bone, soaring sideways and smashing into the concrete wall. He landed on impact, his skull knocking the wall with a slightly worrying thud. Raising a shaky hand to his temple, a hot, sticky residue on his fingers. Moaning from the anguish, he cradled his bleeding torso and gently peeled away the wires from his suit that scraped against his open wound. The scar stretching across his torso was barely in its healing stages, stretched and torn open deeper through to his bones.

‘Harles, kid, stay awake,’ he could hear Tony uttering a metre away. He was with Harley, of course, and maybe the teen was right. They were all going to side with him.

Peter swallowed a sob, his split lip quivering as the adrenaline from the battle wore off. Slumped like a ragdoll, he struggled to his feet. His web shooters, although stained with blood, still worked well enough for him to shoot a web to the ceiling so he could stand.

‘Not so fast,’ Captain America’s shield snapped the silk in half, bouncing off the wall with a vibrating clang that made Peter gasp as he dropped to the floor again. His neck snapped backwards as he dropped, his numb skull striking the wall behind him.

‘Shit, shit, Queens, can you hear me?’

He coughed dryly, blood spitting from his throat and onto the ground, already a puddle of scarlet.

‘Son, you’ll be okay,’ Steve was by his side, offering a comforting hand. Peter stretched out his fingers, but another stabbing pain erupted in his stomach.

‘No, no, leave me,’ he pleaded through teary eyes, but he couldn’t quite make out the super soldier’s face. ‘I’m not worth it, just go.’

‘I’m not leaving you,’ the man was no longer his calm, righteous self, now whispering desperately.

‘Please, go without me,’ he choked through a sob, using his sticky skin to back away up the wall. He grit his teeth so hard he thought his jaw could snap, whining as a stabbing twinge of pain erupted into raw, debilitating agony. The window was just in reach, just one more tear in his skin and it would all be over.

‘Peter.’

‘I’m better off alone, please,’ he pleaded with every fiber of his being, crumpling his fist and smashing the window, icy wind flooding in and temporarily paralyzing him. Inhaling sharply, he dived through the tiny shard of space, bolting down, freefalling into a snowstorm. Fumbling with his blood-stained web shooters, he shot one out blindly, its sticky silk attaching itself to something as it jolted him

Whatever he’d latched onto had begun to pick up speed, so Peter shot a web at the ground, stretching between the blurry red splotch in the air and the ones he left in the snow. A guttural cry ripped from his throat as he stretched between his two webs, his yell shrinking down to a choking sob. Peter gagged as his wound tore open, thick droplets of blood dripping down into the snow. Taking a raspy breath, he adjusted his grip on the thin silky threads that dug into his shivering hands, his biceps already seizing furiously as he bit down an animalistic groan. From above, the web snapped from the sky’s hold and he tumbled to the ground numbly, the agony swarming him into an all-consuming chokehold. He let his eyes shut, the blurry red and gold disappearing from above as everything faded into white.

-

Tony smashed through the window, blasting anything and everything in his past as he summoned his boot jets, Harley gently clinging to him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Aware of the blood dripping from the boy’s ghostly face, he removed his own helmet, propping it on the teen’s. It wavered his anxiety, not having to glance down ever so often to see his boy in so much pain. His stomach churned and his heart pounded violently, because it wasn’t a villain who’d done this. It was Peter Parker. His kid. His kid had hurt his kid.

He didn’t want to think too hard of what had happened, an image of Peter’s fingers trapping Harley’s throat, clenching harder until the boy was gasping for air. It was like Steve was slamming his shield into him, hurting him further and further until it was over. It had taken years for him to feel safe around Steve, let alone trust him again, so it agonised him to accept that he couldn’t trust Peter anymore. He and Harley were left alone for a couple of hours, and by the end of it, the southern teen was near unconscious.

They were out in goddamn Svalbard in Norway, and the quinjet was probably swarmed with snow, so he gave up, powering through the icy snow storm with his kid in his grasp. The suit jolted downwards for a split second, and he flailed slightly, eyes weary on Harley.

‘FRI, what’s going on?’ He asked, panic rising in his voice. ‘Raise the jet power.’

‘I suggest that is not a good idea…’

‘I don’t care, just do it!’ He snapped, and whatever dragged him down seemed to drop, leaving him to fly straight through the snow storm.

‘FRI, get the tower’s best doctors on the scene,’ Tony barked, as he burst through the shattering window of the compound’s medbay. Multiple workers looked up in shock, but after he scowled at them a little too aggressively, those who could, dropped what they were doing to assist frantically.

He reminded himself to ask Pepper to give them all a pay rise after this.

‘Dr Stark?’ A woman came up to him, signalling for him to follow urgently. Harley, still cradled in his arms, stirred slightly.

‘Dr Cho, do whatever you can to help him,’ he placed the frail boy onto the empty mattress, nodding frantically at the specialised Avengers doctor. He couldn’t let the boy get any worse.

.

-

Steve wasn’t a big fan of snow. If he was honest, he repulsed it and had so ever since he’d seen Bucky fall; thus, the horrifyingly blinding slope outside the window wasn’t intriguing to say the least. Unfortunately, Spider-Man had just crawled out of said window, cradling the most harrowing injuries he’d ever seen an Avenger possess in years.

Gripping the window frame, he pulled himself up and through, the shield slinging over his shoulder. It was a massive drop into a snowstorm, but he reached for his shield, flipping it over for a sled and bracing himself for the slide as he flew down the steep white hill. Biting back a terrified yell, his eyes flickered to the one absence of white in the mess of snow, his heart dropping.

Peter was stranded midair, one web glued to a chunk of ice while the other seemed to cling midair.

Tony’s rocket boot.

Steve took out in a run as he finally crash-landed down onto the ice, breaking out into a ferocious sprint. Iron Man, seemingly oblivious to what was restraining him, took off at what looked like the speed of light, too fast for anything Steve had ever seen. The kid was in the sky for too long, dropping unnaturally fast to freefall into the snow. He dropped like deadweight, and Steve felt like a blur as he tore through the stabbing icy chill towards Peter.

‘Someone get my location and bring me the quinjet,’ he managed to choke through the comms as he powered through, ignoring the searing pain in his quads.

‘Got it,’ Bucky replied through his earpiece, although his tone was uneasy. He didn't blame him, because the rest of the team most definitely heard whatever Steve could, and Steve had heard too much.

Peter was lying unconscious on the ground, the first time he wasn’t actively fighting against his injuries. As Steve approached him, a gag threatened his throat. The hero, a fucking kid, was about as youthful as he could get, yet he lay in a trailing puddle of melting ice and blood. Blood stained just about every open slit of skin the boy had, including the daunting tear in his suit where it had been torn from one side of his torso to the other. His skin was charred, almost completely burnt and blistering from Harley’s repulsors, he assumed.

‘God, Bucky, hurry up,’ he bit back a growl. It was no use being impatient, because the other Avengers surely wouldn’t be hesitant even if he’d just mentioned the idea of needing help.

The quinjet landed on the snow ever so slowly, and Steve was tempted to pull it down himself as it settled gently on the blanket of white.

‘Get the stretcher, and Bruce,’ he shouted, his cupped hands shivering as he tried to decide how he could lift Peter without doing any worse damage to his pre-existing injuries.

Natasha gasped. She never gasped, not even if she had seen someone’s open neck, or blood gushing from an alien, but this was something new. Bucky had been on comms with the man for the past hour, and she’d seen his eyes go glassy. He’d gone from silent and distant to barking orders at her, and even if she rolled her eyes as she followed his orders, she still decided not to take it with a grain of salt. She was right not to be skeptical as the quinjet’s doors opened straight up to a trail of scarlet through the snow. Steve carried Peter in his arms, a grave expression on his face as the boy’s chest rose and fell shakily.

‘Steve, who did this?’

The man stayed silent, his eyes sticking to Peter as he was gently lifted up and onto the stretcher at the back.

‘You better open your mouth, goddamnit,’ she snapped, her heart splitting as Peter Parker was carried onto the quinjet, good as dead. His suit, supposedly a protective measure, was shredded throughout his torso as his abdominal muscles below were fleshy and bloodsoaked, a full scar stretching across his body. His side was gaping open, ghostly bones sticking out like someone had just ripped a chunk of skin off.

‘Siberia,’ was all he muttered, before shutting the door to the jet and sitting down at the pilot, eyes directly forward. Stiffly, he turned it on, fiddling with the buttons until the jet began to pick up speed, much faster than it ever had. Soon, it was zooming through the skies towards the compound, and he still ignored her as much as she pestered him.

Bruce didn’t hesitate to take Peter straight to the medbay, signalling for Dr Cho’s help as he darted past the other doctors, all sharing the same concerned glance. Nat had helped him and Bucky treat Peter’s gaping wounds as much as they could, careful not to startle the boy in a state of panic. She followed the men as Peter, resting over Bucky’s arms, stirred slightly, letting out a low moan.

‘FRI, get Dr Cho here with us,’ Bruce instructed the AI, leading them into the ward.

‘Dr Cho is busy and has been instructed not to take any other priorities,’ FRIDAY spoke unhelpfully.

‘Can you tell her it’s an emergency?’ He added wearily, taking the group into the operation room, motioning for Bucky to place him down.

Natasha had paled, and for the first time in years, she was sick to her stomach. The boy looked so young in this light, and she damned herself for letting him go out to fight like an adult. He could barely drive, yet he was going up against the most wicked people she’d ever met. Sadistic, psychopathic, villains who found pleasure in killing and torturing society. Nat promised herself she’d find whoever had left him like this, and shred them to bloodier pieces than whatever condition the boy was in.

‘Boss has instructed for her not to be disturbed,’ the AI replied, and Bruce dropped his head to his chest. Nat scowled at the ceiling, aware she was looking more and more like a maniac.

‘What is she doing? There is nothing that could be more important,’ she snapped, cracking her knuckles.

‘That information is confidential. Would you like me to request access from Boss or Mrs Boss?’

‘God, Tony, I dunno, whatever,’ she scowled, turning back to Bruce with a frantic plea. ‘You can help him, right?’

‘I don’t usually deal with this sort of thing,’ Bruce admitted miserably, ‘but if Dr Cho is out…’

‘You can do it, we all believe in you,’ Steve placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The man took a shaky breath, smiling weakly. ‘I better scrub up.’

Natasha didn’t pray. She didn’t believe in God, because he’d failed her too many times to count. But for once, she stood glancing into the glass ward, begging for His omnipresence to work its magic just once. Bruce was focused, his vision flickering from his patient to the tools he used to the notes beside him. Peter’s body didn’t work like a human’s and it wasn’t pumped with super soldier serum either. He had mutated DNA and radioactive blood, so of course Nat had only her minimal faith in a higher presence and her hopes and dreams. She paced back and forth, circling the ward and looking down at her feet as Bucky and Steve both seemed lost in thought. They both knew something she didn’t, and she was determined for them not to withhold what happened.

Chapter Text

Harley had sunken eyebags and blood staining his face in dark crimson trails. His skin was bruised, oh so heavily, his shoulders and chest a range of colourful abrasions. He was now only in torn sweatpants, nurses at his aid as they cleaned his wounds.

‘Boss, Dr Banner has requested Dr Cho’s immediate assistance,’ FRIDAY interrupted Tony’s racing thoughts, and he almost jolted from his skin.

‘For what? Can it wait?’ He scowled, nodding at the female doctor to keep going with the treatment.

‘For Peter Parker, Boss.’

‘How urgently?’

‘Peter Parker is in critical condition, Boss.’

His heart begged to not leave Harley alone, the boy so pale and fragile, but he had to see his other kid too, even if it pained him so.

Then there was a bang, and his head whipped around to the glass, snarling at whoever dared disturb his kid.

‘Stark, get your ass here!’ Natasha had bloodlust in her eyes, practically barking through the glass, pounding her fists at the windows. Her eyes then dropped to the boy behind him, her expression softening a little. But only for a second, as she caught a glance of Dr Cho beside him.

‘Tony, you better not make me come in here,’ she threatened, and Tony smiled gently at Harley before leaving the room.

The woman wrapped slender fingers around his wrist, dragging him down the hallway as she practically sprinted past other workers. He inhaled sharply as not only was he vibrating with anxiety, but he was met by the faces of Bucky and Steve, who both were distant and shaken to their core. Inside the ward behind them was Bruce and one of Dr Cho’s assistants, head down and busy beside the patient on the bed. He wondered who was needing such urgent care, until stiff realisation washed over him.

Peter didn’t look like how he’d looked when Tony had left him. He didn’t ooze of confidence or malevolence, and the hatred he’d shown when up against Harley. He looked like the same boy who’d stumbled into the tower a week ago, nervous and frantic and so young.

‘My kid is in this condition and you didn’t have the heart to tell me?’ He snapped at Steve, whose eyes widened, before he furrowed his brows.

‘I did try to tell you, but you left with Harley,’ the man didn’t raise his voice, like he’d lost all his energy. ‘And then, you left him on his own, yourself.’

‘Excuse me, Rogers?’

‘Was there a time where perhaps, you were restrained in the suit?’ He asked ominously, arching a brow.

‘You mean, in the air?’

‘Yeah, that.’

‘Rogers, what are you getting at?’

‘That was Peter.’

Tony swallowed, recalling the moment in his mind. At the time, he didn’t think much of it, shaking it off as maybe a strong gust of wind.

‘He jumped from the window of the cell, and fell down through the snow. He shot a web, maybe thinking he’d be able to land safely, but.’

‘But?’

‘Peter tried to web you, but he’d also webbed the ground so you wouldn’t move. Then you flew away, and he dropped.’

‘Let me see him.’

‘Tony, I don’t think you should go in there.’

‘Why? That’s my kid in there.’

‘Was it your kid when you stood back, doing nothing as he and Harley attacked each other?’ Steve asked, his tone rising.

‘I…’

‘Was it your kid when you slammed him into the wall, with your armour on, to stop him attacking Harley?’

‘Stark, Rogers, quit it,’ Natasha stepped between them, scowling deeply. ‘We are not here to argue like kids. There is a boy inside of that room, inches away from dying.’

Tony and Steve quickly separated.

‘FRI, what injuries has Peter got?’

‘Peter has sustained a moderate concussion, a broken hip bone, broken ribs, two 3rd degree burns as well as numerous abrasions and lacerations ranging from moderate to severe. He also has hypothermia.’

‘If Peter didn’t have his crazy spider healing and resistance, he would be dead,’ Natasha spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Now I suggest you go bring Dr Cho here so Bruce doesn’t have to rely on a textbook for information.’

-

‘Rogers, what happened to Peter?’ Nat confronted him, dodging Barnes as the man paced back and forth, stretching out his bionic arm. ‘What did the kidnappers do to him?’

‘It wasn’t the kidnappers.’

‘Explain to me what you mean,’ she said through gritted teeth. She’d briefly overheard his and Tony’s altercation but she hadn’t been listening enough to form a conclusion based on the words the two were deflecting.

‘Tony and I broke into where they’d been held captive after hearing a commotion, but instead of seeing the kidnappers, Peter was fighting against Harley.’

‘Harley, the normal human teenager?’

‘Natasha.’

‘I said, I’m listening.’

‘They were fighting, and then Harley seemed to say something to Peter, and he just snapped. He choked Harley, and then Tony didn’t know what to do so he shoved the boy away.’

‘Not in the suit, right?’

Steve didn’t respond, looking over at Barnes who was in his own world for a second. Natasha inhaled sharply, her eyes shifting to the billionaire, standing at the glass and watching intently, his body too scared to move a muscle.

‘Peter then jumped from the window, begging for me to leave him, but I followed him out and he was trapped midair, held from his webs by Tony. Tony didn’t notice him because he’d taken off with Harley, who had passed out, so he sped off with Harley and Peter freefell.’

‘Stark just left him?’

‘He didn’t know.’

‘Don’t defend him.’

‘He was just trying to look after his friend,’ the man lowered his head, eyeing Barnes in the corner of his eye.

‘Siberia,’ is what he mouthed, a guilty expression on his face.

-

Harley opened his eyes hesitantly, untangling himself from the web of needles and taking a shaky breath as he opened his eyes. He felt held down, wrapped in all kinds of bandages and propped up with a rock-hard cushion.

Natasha was roaming around the ward, noticeably on edge. Harley didn’t have to speak to her to know she wasn’t on his side, circling the room before giving him snarling stares when she thought he wasn’t looking. Harley had no idea why she was so miserable because he’d passed out before the rest of the Avengers reported back, so he just prayed she didn’t have a knife tucked into her sleeve because of some mistake he’d made while delirious.

She acknowledged his inquisitive gaze, entering his ward reluctantly as he took a deep breath. The tension between them was so thick he could cut it with a butter knife.

‘Harley,’ she nodded, stepping forward although seemingly standoffish. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Healing,’ he murmured weakly, motioning to the bandages.

‘Yes, I see,’ the woman inched closer, less on edge. She had a strange look on her face, but he was too tired to try and uncover it.

‘Yeah,’ he breathed, taking a deep breath.

‘Why do you dislike Peter?’ She muttered suddenly, folding her arms over her chest. Harley inhaled sharply, the memory of the kidnapping flashing through his mind in an uncomfortable reel.

‘He hurt me,’ he breathed, hoping it would pull through as enough of an excuse. ‘He almost killed me.’

Nat rolled her eyes. ‘Quit it with the innocent act, Keener.’

‘It’s not an act,’ he scowled, again motioning to the needles poking through his skin. He didn’t care that she was mad at him, because the facts were there; Peter did hurt him too.

‘Peter has been in the critical care unit for a week,’ she spoke bluntly, as if she didn’t want the words to be true.

A miniscule part of him didn’t want the words to be true either. He shoved down those ridiculous feelings, begging for the pleasure he’d gotten when Peter had been punched against the wall, blood dripping from his nose as he’d demanded for Harley to man up and fight him.

Harley was sick, and it was evil, and he wanted to feel that high again.

‘He lost a lot of blood,’ she added quietly, looking away. ‘He hasn’t woken up yet.’

Harley swallowed, leaning back hesitantly and putting on a miserable expression. ‘I didn’t know I’d hurt him badly.’

‘You didn’t, but if someone else hadn’t interjected, Peter would have been fine,’ the hero shrugged miserably. ‘You’re lucky it wasn’t just you.’

‘What do you mean…someone else?’ Harley asked, avoiding the woman’s threat.

‘That’s for you to ask and me to not tell you,’ she gave him a half-assed smile, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘But I’m watching you, Keener, don’t doubt that.’

And with that, their short conversation had ended, except as well as the injuries, he felt like he was carrying the weight of Peter’s life on his shoulders.

He watched as the billionaire slipped a thin wad of cash into the woman’s pocket, flashing her an insistent look as she sauntered away, reward in clasp. Harley’s heart deflated in his chest. The only reason Nat hadn’t torn him to shreds was because Tony bribed her not to. His mind wandered, searching for the answer as to why he was being left in the dark about Peter’s condition. Clearly something was up, and he wasn’t going to stay alone waiting for an assassin to slit his neck in his sleep.

-

MJ was well aware Peter was in some sort of medical emergency. It was the singular reason he missed multiple days of school in a row, and usually it would be unwillingly, aka he was being held down or, y’know, unconscious, but at least it gave an indication of what was happening. He had a habit of ditching school midway through for his heroism, but he’d turn up the next day with a healing bullet wound or a broken arm. Then only a day after, it would be gone.

She disliked Tony Stark, but she knew that he’d do his best to keep the teenager from ripping open recovering tears, and if that meant that he’d miss school then so be it.

It didn’t stop the nagging thoughts in the back of her brain that pestered her every time she saw Eugene’s evil grin, obnoxiously asking where ‘puny Penis Parker’ was. The feeling persisted for a couple of days, keeping her up at night as she’d scroll Instagram for word of mouth that Spider-Man hadn’t died or something.

‘Ned, has Peter texted you?’ She asked her friend, dropping her book for the first time in a couple of hours.

‘Nope, although he’s probably fine, right? He replied absent-mindedly, his eyes scrolling through the chats with his friend, before looking up worriedly, like a realisation had just washed over him. ‘Right?’

‘Penis is just sickly,’ Eugene came up to their table, slamming his palms down too close for comfort to her food. ‘You should be worrying about Harley.’

‘Do we look like we care where Keener is?’ MJ retorted, although she had a sinking feeling that wherever Harley was, Peter was too. If Harley was now a so-called Avenger, Spider-Man most likely had the task of aiding him. Aiding him, and protecting him.

‘Yeah, he hasn’t been at school for like…a week, I dunno,’ the boy shrugged. ‘But he has to help me promote my party to the seniors.’

Ned rolled his eyes, pelting his phone at the boy. ‘Read this, if you’re actually concerned.’

‘Iron Lad is receiving medical care for severe injuries after a kidnapping,’ Flash read, but instead of showing sympathy, a wide smile grew on his face. ‘That’s badass.’

‘Dude, your friend almost died,’ Ned exclaimed miserably. MJ nodded. After all, they did have a frankly ridiculous amount of experience with it.

‘Yeah, but he didn’t,’ Flash grinned smugly. ‘Jealous I’m friends with an Avenger?’

‘Does it look like we are?’ MJ replied sardonically, dropping her head into her hands. If Harley had supposedly been needing intensive care, she didn’t dare let her mind wander when Peter flashed in her consciousness.

-

Tony was stuck. He’d gone out in the Iron Man suit and stopped a robbery. He’d gone to a spa and gotten a luxurious hot stone massage. He’d even locked himself in his lab, blasting music until his ears rang and Pepper snapped at him to turn the music down, sick of hearing Heaven and Hell by Black Sabbath played repeatedly and convinced his eardrums would burst. Like the mature adult he was, he waited patiently for his wife to leave before asking FRIDAY politely to turn up the music and replay the song, sitting alone and nodding his head to the drums. He wasn’t really doing anything, just staring at the wall and wondering how long he could go without speaking to anyone.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. No degree specialised in teenage altercations and they sure as hell didn’t deal with parenting. He couldn’t read a textbook to solve all his problems, and he couldn’t ask the AI he programmed. The genius had all his intelligence and it for once was useless.

Shifting in his seat towards Peter’s torn Spider-Man suit, he debated sitting down and getting around to fixing it, but something held him back. It tugged at his neck, physically restraining him from standing up. Tony had never seen Peter so disgustingly angry, so quick to react to someone who wasn’t a villain. Not only was it not a villain, but his other son. His two sons, at each other’s necks. He couldn’t pretend they didn’t know any better, because he’d watched them both fight with their own complex tactics, both winning and losing the fight.

His heart ached for Harley, who’d been in his suit for, what, a week? Peter had ripped it up like it was nothing in front of their eyes, and Tony yearned not to feel guilty for the boy’s own actions of destroying the southern teen’s hard work. His own destructive influence probably corrupted Peter, turning into someone who reacted with violence.

But Peter, his kid, was an elusive mystery, and Tony craved to understand the boy’s actions. There was more than just something between the two teens, and he cursed himself for not noticing it sooner before it had escalated. He’d watched his kid feel so much vile agony, and he’d just ignored it like a coward. A lone tear rolled down the side of his face, and he slammed a palm into the desk, breathing heavily.

‘FRI?’

‘Yes, Boss.’

‘Call May Parker.’

Chapter Text

Peter woke up to flashing white light and a million different needles poking into him pumping varying degrees of medication. He wondered how in pain he would be if he pulled them all out. ‘FRIDAY?’

The Ai didn’t hesitate to begin cheerfully listing every individual source of pain from his body.‘You have sustained a moderate concussion, a broken hip bone, broken ribs, two 3rd degree burns as well as numerous abrasions and lacerations ranging from moderate to severe. All these needles are necessary.’

‘Thanks,’ he groaned, retreating back to his position of utter misery.

‘Some of your injuries have healed and you no longer have hypothermia, but you are still in a position of recovery where it is ample that you do not go on patrol.’

‘Good to know,’ he stared out the window, tuning in to his amplified hearing. Manhattan was as bustling and chaotic as usual, but it pained him both figuratively and physically to overhear someone’s wretched scream and only do so much as strain at his wires till FRIDAY told him off. Changing what he could hear in earshot, he listened out for word in the tower.

‘He will be on bed rest for one more week at least,’ a muffled voice spoke, although it was loud and he assumed it was from a room a couple rows down. ‘He is pretty beaten up, and he doesn’t have any enhancements that could help him.’

‘He doesn’t have any enhancements at all,’ Tony’s voice spoke clearer than the other’s. ‘Harley’s just got the suit.’

‘FRI, what injuries does Harley have?’ Peter asked the AI quietly.

‘You do not have the clearance to…’

‘Override it,’ he spoke through gritted teeth.

‘I am not able to without Mr Stark or Ms Potts’ permission.’

‘Ask Ms Potts, please.’ Ms Potts was a busy woman, but Peter couldn’t move, and at some point he’d been almost dead, so he hoped she’d forgive him just this once for being nosy.

After a couple of minutes of staring blankly out into the city, the AI’s voice rang out again.

‘Harley Keener has multiple counts of lacerations, a collarbone fracture, throat strain and a mild concussion.

‘Ouch.’

Peter was injured, sure, but he had healing enhancements. No matter how much hatred he shared for Harley, his stomach churned at the idea of the boy lying unconscious in a hospital bed because of him.

Damn his stupid Parker guilt.

Tony entered the room in silence, sitting on the edge of the bed gently, a tired, worn out expression on his face. They both basked in the quiet, although Peter didn’t enjoy it and soon just turned plainly to the billionaire with intent, willful eyes.

‘Underoos, what happened to you?’ Tony’s voice broke. ‘I mean…you were this kid, nice, friendly, wouldn’t hurt a fly, but then in the span of two weeks, you got in a fight at school and…um, Norway.’

Leaning back again, he took a shaky breath, unsure of how to respond and instead just shared a miserable gaze with the billionaire. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Harley’s had to get surgery for his collarbone,’ Tony spoke again, chuckling painfully. ‘He’s not in a coma still, but, you know, us folks without spider blood don’t take days to heal.’

Peter’s eyes shifted to his own injuries, noting he was still chained up with wires that were definitely there for a reason.

‘I don’t think I’m better yet either,’ he murmured softly, bringing his knees up to his chest. ‘But that’s what happens when the universe decides apparently you shouldn’t have a lower torso.’

‘What Harley did was wrong, kid, but why did you retaliate?’ The billionaire ignored his miserable comment.

‘Really ripping off the bandaid,’ Peter muttered, biting back a humourless laugh. ‘So it’s okay for him to hurt me, but if I do it, I’m a danger to society?’

‘Harley doesn’t have super powers.’

‘Nope! He does have a band of cronies and a super suit though,’ he sighed miserably, looking off and out the window.

‘He doesn’t have the strength you have, Peter,’ Tony said again, his jaw clenched.

‘But you two seem to, because it seems like I’m worse off here,’ he scowled, motioning to his bandaged body. ‘Super-healing be damned.’

‘What aren’t you getting from what I’m trying to say?’ The billionaire’s tone began to rise, and he stood up, no longer trying to make peace.

‘You aren’t listening to me!’

‘Listening to you? Kid, you could’ve killed him!’ Tony exclaimed, finally snapping.

‘He shouldn’t have started it!’

‘You can handle him, but it doesn’t work the other way around.’

‘Apparently it does if he’s still alive,’ Peter sneered. ‘You should know damn well I was pulling my punches. Harley? Not so much.’

Tony placed a hand to his head, rolling his eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter because you still hurt him. You’re supposed to be mature, kid.’

‘I’m supposed to be dead, and I would be dead if the other Avengers weren’t there,’ Peter muttered, turning his body away from the billionaire. Tony sighed weakly, leaving the room without a word.

‘FRIDAY, is anyone else waiting to…to speak to me?’ He asked quietly, his voice breaking.

‘No, Peter, there is no one outside.’

He took that as his sign to finally let his guard down, as well as letting the burning tears in his eyes.

-

Tony frowned, massaging his temples. He had too much time to think, wandering the tower like a ghost as he tried to form the right words.

‘Tones, are you alright?’ His wife placed a gentle hand atop his, glancing worriedly as he took a shaky breath.

‘Pep, I messed up. Big time,’ he murmured, not making eye contact with her.

‘You’ve made a lot of mistakes,’ the woman smiled warmly.

‘Thanks.’

‘What did you do to fix them?’ She spoke again, ignoring his snarky comment with grace. He didn’t deserve it, or her. Inhaling deeply, he finally turned to her.

‘I almost killed Peter to stop him from killing Harley.’

Pepper dropped her StarkPad, gasping slightly. ‘Oh Tony.’

First, he took Pepper into Harley’s ward. The boy was fast asleep with a steady heartbeat, curled underneath the sheets and huddled like a sickly child. His neck still bore red hand marks and bruises peppered his chest, noticeable as he rolled over onto his back where a shoulder immobilizer sat uncomfortably. Tony could hear his wife’s deep breaths, slowing down her breathing as she wandered closer to the teenager.

‘Peter did this?’ She wondered sadly. All he could do was nod, because he couldn’t deny something that wasn’t true.

‘Why would he hurt him?’ Pepper clutched her heart, refraining from reaching out to the sleeping boy. Tony wished he could tell her, to comfort her with the truth to stop her from worrying any further. His heart ached as he couldn’t make out the words, or even fathom, why his two kids couldn’t look at each other without committing to violence. They didn’t have to like each other, but tearing each other up was like another knife in his chest.

‘I haven’t spoken to Peter,’ Tony admitted quietly, dragging his feet on the floor, ‘but he hasn’t been in a condition to have that conversation yet.’

‘What do you mean?’

Pepper didn’t have to even enter Peter’s ward for Tony to hear the change in her breath, a calm, concerned breath switching to a sharp inhale. Despite his sped-up healing factor, the boy was still poked with needles and an IV, all kinds of high-dosage medications being pumped into him like he wasn’t a teenager but a chemical experiment. He didn’t have as heavy of a blanket, only a thin sheet covering his beaten-up body. Numerous placements of gauze stuck to him, blocking blood flow out onto the sheets as he healed.

Pepper let out a choked sob, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He and Harley fought, physically,’ he managed to make out. ‘Then he tried to choke Harley, and I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed him away, and then he escaped, and fell.’

‘Oh, baby,’ she breathed, kneeling down beside the boy. ‘Peter, my sweet, sweet child.’

Hearing Pepper utter such gentle words to him was like someone finally bandaged the split in his heart. Even after hearing about how such humane teenagers could fight with pure bloodlust in their minds, she still viewed them as the children they were under all that vile hatred.

‘You have to talk to them, Tony,’ she pleaded, lowering her head as her hand met Peter’s. ‘Please, understand why they did that to each other. To themselves.’

Stirring slightly, his wife stood up and took away her hand, enclasping it with Tony’s as she continued to watch over Peter.

‘Is it too late to call May?’ He murmured, gently squeezing Pepper’s hand. The woman looked up, rolling her eyes.

‘You haven’t told her?’

‘She didn’t pick up, but she was there the other day at school,’ he frowned, leading his wife outside of the ward to let Peter sleep. ‘She didn’t seem to be a big fan of Harley.’

‘Call her again tomorrow. Unless you want her to drive here tonight and yell at you,’ Pepper smiled fondly, and he had to refrain from making an insensitive comment before she dragged him back to their room. ‘Thank you for telling me.’

‘Well, you’re very wise,’ Tony placed a soft kiss on her parted lips.

‘Maybe it’ll rub off on you someday.’

‘Hey!’

-

Steve struggled to swallow down his breakfast, the thick taste of guilt blocking his airways as he inhaled. Even if the eggs in front of him tasted good enough, he couldn’t stomach anything knowing Peter was in the tower being pumped with steroids because of something he could’ve prevented. He hadn’t gone to visit the boy yet, because if he did, he’d probably run into Tony and punch him or do something else reckless in a fit of nerves.

‘Buck, something isn’t sitting right with me,’ he mumbled through a mouthful of cold egg.

‘We won’t know anything for sure until we talk to Peter,’ Bucky explained miserably, picking at his own breakfast.

‘I know, but I don’t understand what happened between Harley and Peter. They seemed like they got along.’

Bucky looked up from his eggs with a sad expression. ‘I don’t think they did.’

Steve sighed miserably. ‘Well that’s just great, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, it’s like HYDRA’s plotting to turn our guys against each other.’

‘I mean that is what they do…’

‘Shut up,’ Bucky grinned. ‘You punk.’

‘Jerk.’ Steve rolled his eyes fondly. ‘We should ask Nat what she talked to Harley about.’

‘She went ahead with it?’

‘Excuse me?’

Bucky dropped his fork, chuckling. ‘She told Tony that she’d slit Harley’s throat if the billionaire didn’t buy her a new motorcycle.’

‘Of course she did. Did it work?’

‘Precisely,’ Nat dumped the wad of cash onto the kitchen bench. ‘He didn’t specifically buy one but he gave me enough for something fancy.’

‘It just has to be functional,’ Bucky shrugged, being the apparent motorcycle expert.

‘God forbid an assassin wants to look cool,’ she arched her brow, frowning.

Steve nodded smugly in agreement. ‘Buck, you out of everyone should understand, especially with the amount of hair products in the bathroom.’

Nat slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter, and Steve grinned as his partner glared lightly at him.

‘I can’t believe you’re spilling all my secrets, Captain Hairgel,’ Bucky scolded, swallowing the last of his eggs. ‘This shit is disgusting. Rogers, what did you do to them?’

‘Hair gel.’

-

‘I wanted to talk with you…about the kidnapping.’

Peter didn’t respond, holding his breath as the billionaire waited for a response, having interrupted his lengthy social media scroll to have yet another discussion. Peter called bullshit, considering how miserable the last one had gone.

‘When I wanted you and Harley to go out together with his suit, I didn’t hope for you two to get in a physical fight.’

‘I…I…don’t…’ Peter physically recoiled under his sheets, scowling. ‘I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry; I could’ve killed him and I know it was irresponsible so just save the swearing and yelling because it’s not like it’s worse than anything I’ve said to myself and…’

‘I wanted to ask if you were okay,’ Tony interrupted him gently, ‘but what do you mean, worse than anything you’ve said to yourself?’

‘I just thought, maybe you hated me for hurting him and never want to see me again.’

‘Kid, he hurt you too,’ the genius spoke quietly. ‘And so did I.’

Peter didn’t even move, not even with a nod of acknowledgement. They both knew it, but Peter didn’t want it to become true if he said it out loud.

‘I’m sorry, for yelling, for blaming you, for throwing you into a goddamn wall, all of it,’ tears threatened the billionaire’s eyes. ‘You’re my son, and I messed up, and I hope you can forgive me,’ Tony pleaded, before a grave expression settled over his face. Peter braced himself for the lashing, but it never came.

‘I’ll see you in the lab soon, right?’

‘Yep,’ Peter smiled weakly.

‘Oh and kid?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Harley’s got his own issues, kid, please don’t let it get to you,’ Tony wrapped an arm around Peter, the boy leaning against his chest. ‘I’ll go talk to him.’

Peter paled. ‘No, you can’t do that, if he finds out I told you…’ His voice trailed off weakly. Of course Tony was going to blab to Harley, why was he so stupid?

Tony left the room silently, closing the door gently behind him.

-

Two weeks later.

‘Harley Keener, Iron Man’s protégé, or also known as upcoming Avenger, Iron Lad, is facing severe injuries after a kidnapping in Norway,’ the news reporter spoke, concern laced in her voice. Peter’s eyes were glued to the screen.

‘We are yet to find out if anyone was with him, but that information hasn’t been released to the public.’

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

‘FRIDAY, how much have my injuries healed?’

‘They are almost healed, although patrol is not recommended.’

‘Of course it isn’t,’ he huffed, sitting up. He’d been on bed rest for a ridiculous amount of time, sitting alone with hopes, dreams and a StarkPhone with no service, because he couldn’t login to the medbay’s wifi. What a disaster.

His nano-suit was probably charging in his lab, using up half of Tony’s electricity bill to power those things from their almost-ultimate demise. Stretching slightly but enough not to radiate pain in his stomach, he unplugged his phone and stood up from his bed. His legs shook violently as he took numb, slow steps towards the door. He was fully aware that he probably looked like a ghost with haunting pale skin and skinny legs, awakened from a slumber gone for too long. He slid quietly into the empty elevator, taking it up to the living quarters where his luxurious, heavenly mattress called his name. Even if another Avenger caught him, at least they would take him there anyway and he could finally sleep more than two hours, and in the comfort of a private room. Entering the hallway of the penthouse, he expected to run into someone, but each and every hallway was bare and echoey. Finally reaching his room, he opened the door, stripping off his stiff, bloody hospital gown and stepping into the ensuite connected. He was, just as predicted, horrifyingly pale, scars stretching across every inch of his body. His super-healing would make them disappear soon enough, but for now he’d have to brace the harrowing lines on his stomach.

The warm water was like being embraced in a comforting hug, and he marveled in the gentle, luscious soap that he lathered over his coarse skin. It was indescribable how blessed Peter felt to be able to rinse out the blood and dirt from his hair, brown curls re-emerging and springing under the water.

After what felt like forever, Peter stepped out of the shower, refreshed both physically and with a new state of mind. He pulled on a soft pair of sweatpants, digging through his messy drawers full of t-shirts with science puns for his MIT hoodie.

‘Where is it?’ He huffed, searching through his assortment of graphic tees. Promptly giving up, he decided to look for it in the living room. It wasn’t as if anyone was here, so he could just go look for it with no stress.

-

Harley yawned loudly as he stretched and rolled out from under his mountain of pillows and blankets. He probably hadn’t stood up in a million years and his stomach was ravaging for food.

‘FRIDAY, what time is it?’ He asked groggily, rubbing his eyes. Pulling on his sweatshirt, he untangled himself from his comforter and cocooned himself in another blanket, this one lighter but rivalled for warmth.

‘It is 2:39 pm,’ she spoke cheerily. ‘Would you like me to alert Boss that you’re awake?’

‘Nah, it’s fine,’ he sighed, opening the door and padding quietly into the kitchen.

A muscular boy stood against the island, skulling a glass of orange juice as his wet curls bounced and glistened in the light. He looked like an angel, his skin pristine and shiny and perfect like a roman god. He didn’t have a shirt on, but a hoodie hung over his shoulder like a towel. His grey sweatpants hung threateningly low at his waist, and Harley almost swooned as the boy finished off his drink, biceps pulsing. Whoever this gorgeous model was, Harley was not in a state to be meeting him. Taking a slight step forward to get a better look at the boy, his foot slipped on his blanket and he stumbled, cursing loudly. The boy whipped his head around, and Harley’s heart fell just as fast as he did.

Peter barely acknowledged him for a second, determining whether to leave the boy there on the floor or roll him down the hall like a burrito. Deciding he could be nice, even to bratty teenagers, he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You okay?’

‘I’ve been worse,’ the boy huffed, choosing to stay on the ground.

‘Hey, so have I,’ Peter chuckled weakly, taking a bite out of an apple and wondering whether it would be inappropriate to lightly prod the boy with his foot. ‘You want an omelette?’

Harley nodded through his mountain of blankets, fumbling as he stood up and shimmied over the couch. He promptly flopped over the side, curling up as he turned on a Star Wars movie.

‘Mushrooms?’ Peter called over the slashing of lightsabers. If he and Harley ever made up, if that was even a slight possibility, they could make their own real ones, unlike the harmless ones he’d designed with Ned.

‘I don’t care.’ Okay maybe that wasn’t really on the table yet.

‘Just wondering!’

Chapter Text

Peter would’ve hoped being kidnapped would teach Harley a lesson as to not be such an asshole, and surely the omelette helped them to bond, but clearly not, as the southern teen only upped the antics. He cursed himself for being so naive, and he was still offended that he was used for his supreme egg-cooking skills. On the way up the stairs to the school foyer, Harley shoved Peter roughly into a puddle, drowning his backpack in foggy rainwater along with whatever homework was in there.

‘Oops,’ he snarled, all flirtatious behaviour gone and replaced with complete and utter malevolence. Harley knew Peter couldn’t retaliate, or he’d go running back to Mr Stark with his wide mouth. With a vile scowl on his face, the boy picked up his dripping bag and dragged it into the hallway.

By the time he’d hesitantly reached the front doors of Midtown Tech, Peter had come to the conclusion that Harley’s popularity had inflated. Two girls followed behind the teen, hung on every word, every breath, he seemed to utter. He seemed to bask in the attention, despite showing limited affection towards his fans.

‘Harley, do you think we could hang out with you in phys-ed today,’ one girl swooned, twirling her silky hair in a finger.

‘I don’t see why not,’ the boy smirked, opening his locker to search for his books.

‘Mr Parker, do you have your homework?’ Ms Warren tapped her watch, frowning as Peter was the last person to enter the classroom.

‘It’s a little…soggy.’

‘This is no way to treat your school work, please do better next time,’ the teacher took one look at the damp piece of paper before discarding it. ‘You’re lucky I know you were at least capable of doing your work.’

‘Sorry, Ms Warren,’ he apologised miserably, sitting down and lowering his head onto the lab desk.

‘Dude, are you okay?’ Ned tapped him gently on the shoulder. ‘You haven’t been at school for ages! Even MJ was worried!’

‘Yeah, I’ll tell you at lunch,’ he sighed, eyes glued to the simple chemistry formula on the board. ‘It has a backstory, that’s all.’

At lunch, Peter’s guard was up like a brick wall, wearily peering around every corner just in case the teen was holding out for another punch or to tip out the contents of his bag.

‘Keener is just deflecting,’ MJ sighed, throwing her apple at him. ‘He knows you could snap him physically so he’s trying to bring you down in other ways. And it’s not like your school reputation is exactly a confidence booster…’

‘Thanks MJ,’ he grimaced, taking a bite out of the crisp red fruit.

‘Your welcome, always,’ the girl grinned, opening her sketchbook.

‘So are you gonna tell us why you didn’t come to school for the last two weeks?’ Ned frowned, crossing his arms. ‘Flash wouldn’t stop being an ass because Harley wasn’t there either, but…he did get kidnapped and injured.’

‘I was there too, at HYDRA,’ Peter shrugged nonchalantly, but his friends’ eyes widened into saucers.

‘You didn’t text us after?’ Ned gaped, waving his phone.

‘Well, I was on bed rest for a while.’

MJ rolled her eyes, although they didn’t doubt she was freaking out somehow. ‘What did the goons do to you? Dark cell isolation? Super serum injections? Neural implants?’

‘Actually, Harley and I beat each other up.’

The girl was speechless for the first time in, well, ever. ‘Ned, I think they went with neural implants.’

‘I thought the news said Harley had severe injuries,’ the boy cupped a hand over his mouth.

‘Yeah, he did,’ Peter admitted bluntly, taking another bite from his apple.

‘What about you?’

‘He beat me up, and of course I let him, mostly, but then Iron Man shoved me because I was choking Harley, and I crawled out the window of the cell because I thought they were gonna abandon me and then I free fell and landed on ice I think. It’s kind of hard to remember because I was definitely delirious.’

‘What the fuck,’ MJ dropped her sandwich, shoving her pencil and paper into the hands of an equally shocked Ned. ‘Quick, Ned, draw me, or take a photo, or anything.’

‘Peter…how are you alive?’ His best friend asked worriedly.

‘I was in “critical condition” for like a week, but it’s fine, y’know?’ Peter chuckled, shrugging it off. ‘Super healing practically saved me, or I’d be dead.’

‘We know,’ Ned deadpanned, rolling his eyes. ‘Peter, you think we don’t know about your crazy healing factor? It’s what saves you every time one of us has to dig a bullet out of your skin.’

Peter chuckled weakly. ‘Yep.’

‘It’s the reason I take Anatomy,’ MJ agreed, gently picking up the remnants of bread and lettuce.

Peter had learnt not to carry anything hero-related in his bag soon after lunch. After Harley’s little scene of tipping Peter’s lunch all over the teen, he’d snatched Peter’s bag and began to dig through it.

‘Anything worth keeping in here?’

Peter knew his suit was buried at the bottom of his bag. Clearly, Harley did too, because he didn’t hesitate to pull it out slightly, just enough for his friends and apparently the rest of the cafeteria to get a glimpse of.

‘Spider-Man onesie? What a baby,’ he snickered, shoving it back down into his bag and pressing down with extra force. Peter arched backwards from the weight, stumbling into him.

‘Kiddie Parker,’ Flash doubled over in laughter. ‘With a tiny ass dick.’

Peter was sick, because of course Harley could turn Spider-Man into a joke. Even if the teen would be charred coal if he hadn’t stepped in and I dunno, get electrocuted for him. Oh how much Peter wanted to punch the boy. He really had to get ahead of his new coming violent tendencies and like what Mr Stark had so desperately wanted, be the bigger person.

Luckily, MJ was not, and with a sardonic smile, she tipped the remainder of her juice down the back of Harley’s shirt.

‘Oops,’ she smirked, smearing her sandwich in his hair for good measure.

-

‘I heard Tony hates you,’ Harley grinned vilely, leaning against a row of secluded lockers in the hallway. ‘Guess I was right, so you better learn not to doubt me.’

Peter narrowed his eyes, raising his fist warningly. ‘Y’know back in Norway? I wasn’t even trying. You’re lucky I didn’t decapitate you.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Harley spat. ‘You were in a worse condition than me after.’

Peter didn’t hesitate to prove the boy wrong, spinning around to check for bystanders before smashing his knuckles into the brick wall. He bit down a curse as his fist crushed the wall inwards.

‘That was about half my strength,’ he snapped, turning on his heel and basking in the strange satisfaction he got from watching the boy flinch.

Harley was on thin fucking ice.

-

Back at the tower, Peter decided mental anguish was the only way he’d be able to succeed in his revenge. MJ’s words had gotten to him, and he’d seen first hand how Harley could go down without Peter actively beating him to a pulp.

Peter wasn’t Taylor Swift’s most devoted fan, but he enjoyed some of her songs and wouldn’t hesitate to listen to her if it meant he could watch Harley refrain from ripping his ears out. Knowing the boy was as country as country came, he opted for playing her first album out loud on the lab’s speakers. He bobbed along to the music as it played just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough that it would most definitely mess with Harley. If Peter dared try anything physical on Harley, Tony wouldn’t even think of him again. After Norway’s events, Tony was still a little standoffish, although seemed willing enough to let the two bond.

Tony seemed oblivious as he tinkered away in the lab, slightly concerned as Peter hadn’t suggested the typical rotation of AC/DC and Led Zeppelin.

Getting minimal reaction, he muttered for FRIDAY to turn the music up, the light fading from Harley’s face as the woman’s voice sung out with an audible southern accent.

‘Hey kid, what are we listening to?’ Tony looked up reluctantly as the young singer’s voice rang from the speakers.

‘Taylor Swift,’ the boy smirked, not looking up from his work on the suit.

‘And why are we listening to Taylor Swift?’

‘Oh, I thought you’d love her, Harles,’ he snickered. ‘You both lived in Tennessee, right?’

‘Very considerate, kid, but I’ve had enough white girl music for today,’ Tony sighed dramatically. ‘You think you could maybe change the music?’

‘Sure. Rihanna or Beyonce?’

‘Excuse me?’

Safe to say Natasha hadn’t expected to hear Rihanna blaring over the speakers, but she did catch the three juxtaposing expressions of the lab’s occupants. Peter while humming along to Umbrella, was absolutely gleeful and snuck looks over at the other teen. Harley looked like he was forcing down the inkling to sing alone, a malicious snarl on his face as they shared a glance. Tony couldn’t decide whether he liked what he was listening to, but he was apparently happy enough if the teens were in agreement. Nat didn’t have the heart to tell the billionaire that Harley was absolutely livid and Peter was one-hundred percent doing it intentionally.

‘молодой паук, how’s your recovery?’ Natasha pulled him aside, not so stealthily dragging from the lab and towards the common room.

‘I’m getting better, but I haven’t been on patrol since…you know,’ he nodded, following the woman into the elevator. ‘Why is everyone so on edge around me?’

‘No ones on edge, молодой паук,’ she breathed, but she was definitely on edge.

Steve had a wide smile on his face as Peter stepped into the common room. Peter had no idea why he, Nat, or apparently Bucky (who was baking up a storm in the kitchen), were so joyful.

‘Son, I’m so glad you’re okay,’ the super soldier enveloped him into a hug, and although it was weird, Peter took it with a grain of salt and enjoyed the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest of knowing someone was watching over him.

Bucky shoved a tray of cookies across the benchand with a nod, Peter had dug in. Warm, butter goodness exploded his tongue, and he moaned out a little too confidently as the other Avengers snickered.

‘Don’t judge me until you try these,’ he murmured through another blissful bite, reminiscing the sugary goodness as Steve reached for the tray.

‘If I do say so myself,’ he grinned

Bucky wrapped him in a tight hug. Weird, but Peter accepted it, melting into it as much as he could while a vibranium arm was wrapped around him.

-

After farewelling the Avengers, Peter decided to swing back to his apartment. His normal suit was absolutely shredded, so he went for the next best thing, the Iron Spider suit. It was a little flashy, but attention couldn’t hurt, could it?

Slipping on the cuffs, he let the icy nano-tech engulf his skin, and he stepped out towards the window.

Letting himself drop through the air, he stretched out his arms and pushed through the wind. Just as the footpath came into view, he swung back upwards and relished the high he got from soaring through the air. The feeling of flying with a limit, not knowing when he’d fall again sent him to the edge, and he tipped his head back as he let the exhilarating thrill wash over him. His skin contorted as he spun in the air, thankful that his injuries had healed so he could swing around the city to his full capacity. He launched another web, swaying towards the windows of a skyscraper before dropping horizontally, sprinting across the glass and diving off the side towards on-coming traffic. Holding his breath, he narrowly avoided the roof of a truck, his feet skimming the top as he swung upwards again, floating in the sky like a bird.

He didn’t need to take drugs when the best high was swinging around New York.

He crash-landed into his bedroom, rolling onto his bed and stumbling into the living room as he discarded the nano-tech cuffs on the floor. May surely didn’t know the full story between him and Harley, so Peter was more than thrilled to return home to be engulfed with a hug from his aunt.

‘I was so scared, baby, don’t get kidnapped again,’ she begged, wrapping welcoming hands around him, squeezing tighter.

‘No promises, May,’ he chuckled, melting into a tight embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.

‘I’m glad you’ll be here more often,’ she smiled sadly, and as she stepped backwards, the small array of boxes emerged in the living room.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I thought he might’ve told you already, but,’ the woman gazed out the window. ‘Tony and I had a conversation the other night, and he decided it would be better for you if he stopped seeing you,’ she wrapped a gentle arm around him, taking him in as he crumpled in her hug.

‘He can’t…he kicked me out?’ He murmured in disbelief, inhaling sharply as he sat stiffly on the couch. His jaw clenched, replaying the words in his mind. Tony kicked him out. He kicked him out because Peter hurt Harley and Tony only loves Harley.

May shook her head quickly. ‘No, baby, he still misses you.’

‘Then why doesn’t he want to see me?’

‘He believes he’s a bad influence on you,’ the woman sighed, sitting beside him and enveloping him in a hug. ‘He believes all the Avengers are.’

‘He can’t just do that,’ he scowled, eyes locked on the belongings piled in front of him. Was that why all the heroes were so sappy when he’d been at the tower? Because they knew he was leaving?

‘Mr Stark didn’t even say goodbye,’ he spoke quietly, his voice cracking, forcing down the sob growing in his throat. Peter had left the man in his lab, thinking he’d just be checking in with the other Avengers.

‘I’m gonna go lie down,’ his voice wavered as he stood up, hot tears welling in his eyes and a miserable, sinking void in his stomach.

‘Okay baby, but I’m right here if you need me,’ May pressed a kiss to his forehead, guiding him to the tiny room at the end of the hallway. He wandered slowly towards his bedroom, each foot scraping the ground a reminder of the steps he took out of the lab, steps he hadn’t expected to be the last.

If Tony was sending Peter away, hopefully Harley would be on the list too.

The emptiness in his mind seemingly remained, a longing for something he wasn’t sure what for. On one hand, he missed the newfound family at the compound, some of his favourite people and for the greatest opportunity on earth.

On the other hand, they all knew he’d almost died, and they all walked on eggshells around him, even if he wasn’t just a teenager but a teenager who could lift more than a bus. And he was angry; angry at Harley for being such a vile person, angry at Tony for making so many mistakes, angry at Nat and Steve and Bucky for not standing up for him, even angry at FRIDAY for spilling his stupid secrets to save his life.

If Tony was sending Peter away, hopefully Harley would be on the list too.

But the stupid feeling of longing he held in his chest stuck to him like prototype web fluid that wouldn’t dissolve reminded him that he urged for people to want to feel for him.

He didn’t want to be alone, even the people surrounding him felt sorry for him, or even despised him. Pulling on his mask again, he ached to feel some sort of feeling, something that didn’t remind him of how much of a failure, a disappointment, he was. As he swung into the sky, he prayed for the delicious high he got from soaring through the sky.

He didn’t return until late in the night, and the adrenaline from swinging was lost in the ghostly daze that carried him through the sky. He’d lowered himself from the top of the building, climbing through the window into the silent apartment, May having been asleep for a couple of hours. He so desperately wanted to climb into her arms and sob out the feelings that were trapped in his chest, his head, his heart…

Lying down on his twin bed, Peter stared up at the blank ceiling and let the darkness take him.

Chapter Text

Protruding rays of sunlight glowed through his window, flooding Peter’s tiny room with golden light. He blinked frantically, groaning as he was blinded by the sun and covering his face with his comforter. If he hadn’t already hated himself for the previous night, he wouldn’t be in the situation of his past-self trying to murder him the next morning. Groggily rubbing his eyes, he tumbled from his twin bed onto the spiky hardwood, cursing as his head hit the floor with an unfriendly thud.

‘Morning Peter, how are you feeling?’ May welcomed him to the living room with a hug, and he shuffled towards her, his pajama pants dragging on the floor and trailing around his ankles.

‘Not great…can I stay home today?’ He offered, but cursed himself for the slight curve in his mouth. May had seemed to catch on, and shook her head through a laugh.

‘Baby, you’re stronger than anyone I know,’ she smiled warmly. ‘You can deal with a couple of no-good high schoolers.’

Peter shrugged weakly, Harley’s face flickering in his mind like a movie. ‘Can I?’

‘Yes, you can,’ his aunt noted positively. ‘Hungry?’

Peter nodded slowly before a banana flew at him and promptly hit him in the forehead.

‘Oh, so sorry…I thought that you could sense that with your…’ she pointed to her head. ‘Peter-Tingle.’

‘Please, do not start calling it my Peter-Tingle,’ he groaned, deadpanning.

‘So what’s up? You can dodge bullets but not bananas?’

‘No, I’m just…I really don’t want to face him,’ he dipped his head, picking up the banana from its landing.

‘If someone tries to hurt you, you’ll be able to sense it, with your tingle!’ May exclaimed enthusiastically, peeling the banana for him.

Peter sighed loudly. ‘Please stop saying tingle, May!’

‘Okay, okay, fine, just don’t be late for school!’

Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he darted out of the apartment and towards the dingy subway. Ducking down into the darkness, he tried not to think too hard about the events of the day and how they could possibly play out, of course having to consider the extraneous variables like his dreaded Parker Luck or Harley, often throwing a wrench in his generally normal school day.

‘Peter! You need to start answering your calls before I throw you onto the subway line,’ a female voice exclaimed from behind him, and he spun around, narrowly avoiding a snarling businessman as he peered through the crowd of people. ‘MJ?’

‘My dad dragged me to the subway,’ she spoke, panting through her sentence. ‘He said…huff…I need to see more of New York.’

‘Like the shithole places?’ He stifled a laugh, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulder.

‘Shut up, and you better not be getting sentimental with me,’ she huffed, although she softly melted against him.

‘I am not getting sentimental with you,’ he motioned a gag and the girl looked up suddenly, shoving him away and into the ticket machine. He stumbled back to a stand, rubbing his throbbing shoulder with a sheepish grin on his face. ‘I’m kidding! I know you’re texting someone.’

Rolling her eyes, MJ ducked under his arm again and opened her phone, scowling as he tried to sneak a look. ‘I know you have secrets, Parker, don’t think I can’t have mine.’

‘You know all my secrets.’

‘Damn right I do,’ she smirked, and opened up her texts. She tried to shield the name, but he caught it anyway.

‘Princess Shuri? Damn, MJ, I didn’t know you had game,’ he grinned smugly, peering down the station to see if he could see the lights of the subway.

‘More than you,’ she quipped, and he flicked her in the side of her arm.

‘Sure,’ he rolled his eyes fondly. The subway rolled up the station in front of them, and they stepped into the train, both breathless from laughter.

-

Peter had trepidation about what tricks Harley had up his sleeve, so he was watching out like a hawk. In the back of his mind, he hoped the boy would be shipped off back to Rose Hill on the next flight, but alas, Harley wandered in late. He sauntered to his desk, dropping his bag and making strange eye contact with Peter, who almost got lost in his icy blue eyes. Peter hated that the asshole had to have such gorgeous eyes, and it was stupid. Just as stupid as Tony not wanting to be associated with him.

Mr Harrington had explained their next assignment, a group project; investigating and attempting to rebuild a technological device to improve it. Reading off his list of groups from his laptop with almost a little too much enthusiasm, Mr Harrington seemed to derive pleasure from seeing the mortified expressions of his students. Peter crossed his fingers, but the list of people he wanted to avoid seemed to stretch on and on. Maybe if the universe was on his side , just this once, then he’d stop wishing for Harley to pack up and go back to Texas or wherever he came from. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, where they didn’t teach people how to be people, apparently.

‘Ned and Abe,’ the teacher announced, and he deflated slightly, searching for MJ with a longing glance. The girl had her head buried in The Bell Jar by an author named Sylvia Plath, a book Peter had never even heard uttered, but he wasn’t an English fanatic anyway. MJ finally looked up, lowering her book partially.

‘Peter and Harley,’ Mr Harrington exclaimed, much to Peter’s horror. Damn his horrible Parker luck. The girl snickered, covering her mouth to hold in her laugh.

‘MJ and Flash.’

MJ’s laugh turned into a strained scowl, and Peter couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Okay maybe it could get worse for someone, other than him. Flash was fuming at the back of the room.

‘How am I supposed to get an A+ if I’m working with her?’ He exclaimed.

‘Eugene, I am the captain of the decathlon team you’re barely on,’ she sneered, motioning a cut to the neck with her finger. ‘Mr Harrington, if two pairs didn’t like their partners, could we maybe…I dunno, switch?’

Harley nodded frantically in agreement. Wow, thanks. Even if the teen was an asshole to him, it wasn’t like Peter was the repulsive one.

‘Nope! Most of the partnerships are based on their strengths and weaknesses.’

‘Of course they are,’ Peter muttered under his breath.

Mr Harrington clasped his hands, and then unclasped them and pointed to the board. ‘Read on what you both have to do, and sit together, please.’

Peter didn’t have to glare at Harley for very long until the boy collected his belongings, sitting beside him like he was some charity case.

‘I’m not so concerned about getting a good mark on this,’ Harley hissed under his breath. ‘All I care about is seeing you miserable.’

‘Oh, you sadistic fuck,’ Peter moaned, dropping his head miserably onto the desk.

‘Say that again, sweetheart,’ Harley whispered alluringly, his breath hot on Peter’s neck. His drawl dripped with venom, stretching out the pet name as long as he could. Rolling his eyes, Peter sat back up before promptly slumping in his chair. He didn’t dare share another gaze with the teen again, opening his laptop inconspicuously. ‘Want to rebuild Tony’s suit? Maybe if we look like we’re bonding, he’ll get off our backs.’ His back, specifically.

‘Sounds good to me, darlin’,’ Harley bit his lip in the reflection of the screen. ‘And maybe we could get a good grade, if I decide.’

‘Only if you decide,’ he sighed painfully.

‘Exactly.’

-

The lesson seemed to go by excruciatingly slowly. He yearned for the seconds to stop stretching on, eyes flickering as time ticked by, his vision shifting from the clock to Ned to MJ whose foul expression had doubled and she was now retching behind her every so often. Glancing wearily towards the southern boy beside him, he noticed Harley was vainly engulfed in his own reflection, messing with his hair as one curl threatened to drop from its perfect position. He was malicious but viciously gorgeous, and it pained Peter devastatingly to admit it. It was like his appearance taunted him with its mystical enticement, before his vile personality trapped him and shredded him apart. Enigmatic, icy eyes a translucent blue that could see through his own and into the depths of his soul. His disgustingly flawless figure, like he’d spent hours strengthening each muscle precisely so that it was obvious through a thin shirt, but lean enough that it didn’t replicate a super soldier’s.

‘Parker.’

Perfect, symmetrical lips, an elusive question of what words would be uttered through his mouth, a deceiving taunt or a malevolent curse, spilling each and every secret Peter held in his chest.

‘Parker, are you staring at me?’

Peter blinked back to consciousness, letting go of his breath and spinning quickly away.

‘I’m seeing how long I can look at you before I throw up.’ Nice save, Peter.

‘For someone smart like you, you’re shit at making up excuses.’

‘It’s a little embarrassing if you think people are looking at you all the time,’ Peter frowned, twirling a pen in his fingers. ‘Y’know, you’re not that good looking.’

That was a lie and Peter knew it from the second it left his lips.

Harley grinned smugly. ‘And you are?’

‘Uh, no,’ Peter paused, narrowing his eyes. ‘When did I say I was?’

‘It was there, I could tell.’

‘Do you ever stop talking?’

‘No.’

The bell saved him from having to retort with the boy any further.

-

‘You’re with Harley? Didn’t he, y’know, almost kill you?’ Ned exclaimed worriedly, opening his locker to dig for textbooks. ‘Isn’t this dangerous?’

‘He didn’t almost kill me, Ned,’ Peter reassured his friend, although the day’s occurrence was still a little foggy, and he still held some resentment towards the moment.

‘Natasha said you almost died,’ MJ shrugged, although concerned. He whipped around, arching a brow as he met the dark eyes of his elusive friend.

‘Why are you in contact with Nat?’ He demanded, crossing his arms as he dodged a bustle of hustling students.

‘Why wouldn’t I be,’ she grinned smugly. ‘I can’t let you get killed under the watch of Stark, so I asked her for updates instead.’

‘Aw, you’re worried about him!’ Ned grinned, dumping a pile of books into his backpack and shutting his locker loudly.

‘Nope, just nosy.’

‘Sure,’ Peter smiled, but there was no edge to it, just genuine appreciation.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever, but don’t bring it up again,’ the girl hissed. ‘It will ruin my precisely crafted reputation.’

-

‘Parker, hurry up, I want to finish this thing quickly,’ Harley waved to him from Happy’s car. Peter sank lower in the crowd, hoping the boy wouldn’t see him, but then he felt a rough tug on his backpack and suddenly he was in the backseat of one of many Tony Stark Audis. Happy waved from the front seat, fairly oblivious to the tension that was so thick, one could cut it with a butter knife. Or at least from Peter’s perspective.

Across from him, Harley was happily scrolling on his phone, occasionally squinting at him from above it, giving him a sly grin.

‘So what do you propose we do to the suit?’ The teen asked innocently, and Peter was a little worried about the undertone in which the boy spoke.

‘I dunno,’ he spoke bluntly, opening up his texts between Ned and MJ. ‘A nano-watch?’

‘I like that idea, but we should add more. More weaponry.’

Peter lowered his voice, his tone quiet but malicious. ‘What, so you can try and kill me again?’

Harley promptly kicked his ankle, and he scowled again.

‘Fine, fine, I don’t care,’ Peter hissed, and dodged the inkling to gaze into the boy’s mystical eyes. Eyes couldn’t do harm, could they?

Peter regretted it as soon as Harley caught on, smirking, and suddenly his eyes weren’t that appealing.

-

‘What are you two up to?’ Tony blinked, obviously paling and utterly thrown off as he peered in from the window of the lab. Peter wished he knew, tinkering with a stolen arc reactor, a stolen motherboard and about a thousand stolen wires, wiping sweat from his face with his t-shirt. None of the stuff in the lab belonged to him anymore, everything down to the pliers entwined in his fingers. But Harley didn’t have to know that.

‘You have superpowers, so naturally, you’re gonna test everything,’ Harley ignored the billionaire, noting to Peter quietly from his station, surrounded by pieces of metal. ‘I don’t need another broken bone, or five, y’know.’

‘Yeah, because I’ve never broken a bone in my life, either.’

‘That looks very familiar,’ the billionaire dodged the comment about bones and took a sneaky glance over Peter’s shoulder, as well as an invasive finger that was dangerously swatted away.

‘School project,’ Peter huffed, trying to keep with his initial promise that he’d made to himself to limit conversation with anyone in the tower who even uttered a breath towards him. ‘We’re supposed to rebuild and improve a piece of tech.’

‘Naturally, we chose the most obvious candidate,’ Harley had a shit-eating grin on his face, motioning to the enclosed wall of Iron Man suits that proudly lined the walls.

‘My suits don’t need any improvement,’ Tony stuck his chest out. ‘Everything you could possibly need is in my newest one.’

‘If that’s what you believe,’ Peter quipped sardonically, connecting another wire as it sparked in his hands. ‘Fuck.’

‘You just need to…’

‘Nuh uh, Tony, no help,’ Harley snapped lightheartedly. ‘Peter has to figure it out on his own.’

Much to Peter’s dismay, the other teen had left him with every piece of coding, including the ridiculous lines that felt like Tony had invented himself.

Scowling at the boy, he dropped his head and went back to his tinkering, hissing ever so often as his fingers made contact with a spark. He could sense Tony hovering around, keeping a wary eye on him. They both knew Peter wasn’t supposed to be here, but Harley didn’t know, and he wanted to keep it that way.

‘Well, um, Pete, I’ll ask Happy if he can give you a ride home,’ Tony suddenly exclaimed awkwardly, turning on his heel quickly to avoid any more confrontation. The billionaire hurried out of the room, faster than he’d ever seen him run out of meetings.

‘That was strange,’ Harley blinked, crossing his arms as his biceps popped. Peter had to do his best not to stare, internally punching himself to stop ogling over the boy’s arms.

Damn Peter, do you ever remember you’re jacked as well? Just ogle at yourself!

‘Seems pretty normal to me,’ Peter shrugged a little too casually, his head still dipped down low over the pieces of tech.

‘I thought you knew him,’ Harley arched his brow. ‘Anyone who’s even just heard his name uttered would be able to tell that was not normal.’

‘I dunno, maybe it isn’t normal, I don’t care,’ he shut his laptop, beginning to pack up his mess of wires and coding that had been strewn around the desk.

‘Why are you so miserable?’ Harley looked up from his work, a seemingly genuine expression on his face. Peter backed up in shock, and the teen returned to his normal low smile.

‘None of your business,’ Peter muttered, typing strings of code into his laptop.

‘Who am I gonna tell?’ The teen grinned enticingly.

‘Let me think…Tony, Flash, Flash’s friends, the girl you hooked up with before gym…’ He counted on his fingers, arching a brow.

Harley looked down suddenly, his charismatic personality gone like it had never been there before. ‘I didn’t hook up with her.’

Peter swallowed slowly, frowning as the boy’s demeanor changed. ‘Why does everyone keep saying you are?’

‘She’s a liar,’ he muttered, looking away before adding quickly, ‘I’m gay.’

‘Oh. Oh.’ Peter cracked a small smile, folding his arms over his chest.

‘Hey, what’s funny?’

‘God, I can’t believe I thought you kissed girls,’ he snickered, inhaling sharply. ‘I see it…I see it now, you dick.’

‘Don’t call me a dick.’

‘Don’t be one. Even if you’re sucking them.’

‘Are you judging me?’ Harley’s face turned into a vile scowl, and his fist rattled by his hip like he was preparing to throw a punch.

‘No, dipshit, I’m Spider-Man, I swing both ways,’ Peter covered his mouth to stop another laugh.

‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ a small smile appeared on the teen’s face. ‘Well, now that I just outed my one and only secret to you, I think you can spill yours.’

Reluctantly, Peter opened his mouth. He was probably going to regret it later, and he was going to regret it a lot, but it wasn’t as if he had anything to lose. ‘I was kicked out.’

‘Tony kicked you out?’ Harley blinked, arching a brow. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

‘Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?’

‘Without you, there’s nothing fun here,’ the teen shrugged. ‘Except for the lab equipment worth a couple billion.’

Peter smirked dangerously, crossing his arms over his chest and was plenty happy to toy with the boy a little, even if it sent his throbbing heart into overdrive. ‘You enjoy my presence?’

‘I take pleasure seeing you mad, darlin’, and that only happens when I’m around,’ he tilted his head, and Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes, even if it just made Harley grin more. ‘Also, you’re all Tony talks about. He just wants to boot his favourite intern.’

‘Me? His favourite intern? Have you met us?’ Peter’s eyes widened. ‘He got mad at me like…thirty minutes ago.’

‘He didn’t look mad.’

‘Yeah, but he had this weird, straining voice like he was tired of something and that something is me, because I’m not supposed to be at the tower.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well shit, that’s not good is it?’ Harley rubbed his hands together, peering out of the lab for the man. ‘He’s not back yet so you still have some time.’

‘Why are you helping me?’ Peter blinked, rearranging his tangled wires. ‘Don’t you hate me?’

‘Don’t you hate me?’

‘Well, yeah, obviously, but you’re not as obnoxious as you used to be,’ he shrugged. ‘Plus, you didn’t almost kill me. Just minor damages.’

‘So you don’t hate me,’ Harley arched a brow. ‘Even though I’m a dick.’

‘I’m undecided, but leaning towards hatred,’ Peter said all too casually, although bitterness was on the tip of his tongue. It was true. He still felt resentment towards the teen, but their short-lived conversation was anything if not normal.

‘Better than nothing.’

Peter stepped closer to the other teen, dropping his calm façade as they met eye to eye. ‘You’re right, Harles, but don’t expect us to be making up soon.’

‘Or making out?’

Chapter Text

‘He’s here,’ Tony panted, heaving as he caught up with Happy in the hallway. ‘How did he get in?’

‘You mean the kid? I drove him here,’ the man shrugged casually, not looking up from his StarkPad. ‘He and Harley are working on a group project.’

‘He can’t be here.’

‘Why not, and Tony, I will tell Pepper if I think you need meds,’ Happy scolded.

‘I am a grown man who can make his own decisions,’ the billionaire snapped, reaching for his phone.

The head of security rolled his eyes, speeding up away from him. ‘If your future decisions are going to be as stupid as this one, count me out.’

‘Let me remind you who’s your boss,’ Tony scowled, turning on his heel. If Happy wasn’t going to do it, he’d have to do it himself.

-

Harley hadn’t expected to not get ticked off by Peter Parker. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He didn’t doubt the boy heard his little comment slip, as he’d flushed red and turned away to stare at the corner of the room.

Harley left Peter alone in the lab at 11:32 at nightfall, his eyes drooping as he’d had enough of uselessly prodding at the nano-tech, done with his fruitless attempts to get it to work even a little. Eventually resting his head on the lab desk, he let his eyes shut, even if his skull sat uncomfortably on the counter.. It was then that he felt warm, strong hands wrap around his waist, lifting him up and off the counter. Too dazed to protest the sudden movement, he let his head relax, resting again on the warmth of someone’s shoulder. The figure’s breaths were originally more frantic, but after a couple of steps, they breathed in and out steadily.

‘FRI, take us up to the penthouse,’ the figure muttered, quiet and breathy but loud enough that Harley could hear their disdain. He let his mind wander to the melodical hum of the elevator, his head still resting against the mystery person’s shadow. But just as they’d stopped moving, the figure was off again, and Harley’s jaw clenched as he thumped against whoever was holding him.

There was a pause, and the sound of a door opening, before a voice appeared out of nowhere.

‘I’m not making out with you, asshole,’ he heard the figure utter, before his body landed harshly onto the cushion. Harley’s eyes fluttered open, meeting an antagonistic glare through the dark.

‘Peter?’ He whispered desperately into the shadows, and the teen stepped forward, his sunken eyes dark and somber. His hair was a mess like he’d run his fingers through his haphazard curls too often, but Harley’s heart thumped in his chest as they shared a gaze.

‘Not until you own up to your mistakes.’

Then, as if it hadn’t happened at all, Peter was gone.

-

If Happy wasn’t going to take the kid, Tony would have to do the one thing he dreaded for numerous sleepless nights. Peter was alone in the lab, toying with their fake Iron Man suit and pieces of nanotech in the haunting silence. He was at the back table, shiny tech splayed across the counter haphazardly, but he was so engrossed that he didn’t move when Tony entered the lab.

‘Kid.’

The boy didn’t even flinch, fiddling with wires that sparked and fizzled ever so often. ‘Don’t talk to me.’

Tony shuffled forward, his feet sliding against the floor. ‘Underoos,’ he tried again gently.

‘Did you hear me?’ Peter finally looked up, except instead of his usual curious gaze, Tony was met with sunken but piercing eyes, full of utter malevolence despite holding such exhaustion. The same look Peter had given Harley, deep brown eyes no longer holding their innocence but blocking out his thoughts like he’d put up a stern wall between them.

‘I just want to explain.’

‘What is there to explain? You kicked me out,’ Peter shrugged miserably, but his voice didn’t break even when the billionaire’s heart did.

‘I’m a bad influence on you. It’s my fault you’re unhappy,’ Tony pleaded, inching closer to the boy who in turn decided for reclusivity. He’d receded, moving to the far side of the table while continuing to work.

‘You’re right, Mr Stark. You haven’t checked on me once since he came here.’ The boy snapped, picking up a pair of pliers and waving it around the air as he talked.

‘I thought I apologised for that, and I’m sorry, again,’ he choked, adding quickly. ‘‘But I thought you two were getting along now.’

‘And what gave you that impression?’

‘Today, in the lab,’ he tried, but every word that slipped from his mouth just tasted fake, like he was feeding lies to the press about the state of his life. He’d never been so reluctant to speak, so worried that if he didn’t hold his tongue, he’d make another mistake. That was all he seemed to do, apparently.

‘We almost killed each other, because we hated each other so much,’ he spat. ‘What do you think that says?’

Tony swallowed slowly, the pit of guilt in his stomach growing by the second. His heart rate was beginning to spike, but he didn’t want to make it any worse for himself if he had a panic attack in front of the teen, someone who wouldn’t help him.

‘Maybe you should’ve intervened before I choked him, y’know?’ Peter tilted his head, a wry smile on his face. ‘Like, instead of watching.’

The billionaire’s chest clenched, his heart hammering against his ribcage. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt,’ he managed to spit out, grasping for a lab bench to steady himself.

‘Am I talking to the same man that threw me into a wall? You know, I’m still recovering from that.’

‘You choked him,’ Tony spluttered, looking down at his own trembling body. ‘Don’t you regret that?’

‘You don’t think I haven’t? But did you ever talk to Harley about the shit he’s been putting me through?’ Peter cried out, covering his suddenly hysterical face in his hand. ‘You both make it really hard for me to feel bad for you, because just when I do, something always happens!’

‘I didn’t know, I’m so, so…’

‘You’ve tried to apologise, but you’ve just fucked it up again,’ he sneered, throwing his wrench onto the ground with an echoing clang. ‘Enough of the excuses, Mr Stark. Just say you don’t want me around, because I can take it. I already feel alone enough.’

If Tony didn’t feel like finding an open window and falling out, now he really did. His body was tearing him down, ripping at him from the inside. And Peter, his kid, was yelling and screaming and crying and Jesus, Tony couldn’t take it.

‘Save yourself the apology, it’s not worth it.’

‘Peter…’

‘I wouldn’t accept it either way.’

Tony nodded quietly, pausing to take one last look at the kid before he left, probably never to be seen again if their conversation had been any indicator. Peter’s eyes were bloodshot, still carrying the hostility and urgency of wanting to regress further from him. The teen took a deep breath, nano-tech flowing over his hand, wrist, then forearm like liquid, his breath hitching. His eyes still welled with furious tears, but for a moment he was in awe at his own work. All Tony wanted to do is wrap his spiderling in a hug, to let him know how proud he was. They shared a hesitant gaze, and the genius almost smiled, but the solemn look on Peter’s face was enough for him to leave wordlessly.

Their relationship was too far gone.

Tony didn’t hesitate to leave the teenager alone in the lab, stumbling back through the hallway as his vision went blurry. He took a deep breath, trying to control his racing heartbeat as he entered the elevator. The boy continued to work away with only the milky moonlight that flooded the room at nightfall.

-

At about 2:56am, FRIDAY alerted Tony of the lab’s absence. The billionaire rolled away from his sleeping wife, gently untangling himself from their comforter and shuffling out from underneath. The hallways were quiet. Tony hated quiet. It reminded him of the many times he was alone, left and betrayed and sacrificing himself and almost killing himself on missions all too many times. If it wasn’t three in the morning, he’d blast music to flood his brain with guitar and drums to drown out the numbing nightmares running through his brain.

The lab was spotless. So flawless that you wouldn’t be able to tell that there was someone who'd’ been working there for almost twelve hours straight. Even if Peter hated him, the boy still felt bad enough to tidy up after himself in the early hours of the morning.

In the corner of the room, blocked off by temporary webs that stretched around it, was the boys’ suit. So far, it was just a crate of metal armor in varying colours, with a smaller box housing the CPUs and MCUs that Peter had spent hours tirelessly on. Taped to the helmet resting on top, a fairly identical replica if he did say so himself, was a tiny slip of paper with Harley’s name scrawled hurriedly in thick red sharpie. Taking a shaky breath, Tony opened it and began to read the short sentences.

I fixed the nanotech for you, I think there was an error with how it was connecting but it’s alg now. All the coding is done, you just have to connect it to the suit. If you play with the wires, it won’t break like my web shooters :)

For someone who, recently, Tony hadn’t seen crack a smile, his notes were seemingly innocent. But for such short sentences, the billionaire didn’t doubt whatever coding that Peter had spent slaving away over would be impressive, to say the least. And Tony definitely noticed the last comment, reading over it a couple of times to understand what the boy might’ve meant.

Tony had to tear his eyes from the suit, placing the note back down and going to stand where the boy had only a couple of minutes prior. He pulled out his StarkPhone, placing it gently onto Peter’s workspace as if it might shatter.

‘FRI, pull up all the clips of Harley and Peter in the lab,’ he spoke monotonously, before scrolling through the videos. He started from the most recent one, clicking on it and resting down on a stool under the counter. He had a couple of hours, and he was going to make the most of it.

‘God, I can’t believe I thought you kissed girls,’ Peter giggled, seemingly normally. ‘I see it…I see it now, you dick.’

‘Don’t call me a dick,’ Harley retorted snidely.

‘Don’t be one. Even if you’re sucking them,’ the other boy laughed again, almost mockingly.

‘Are you judging me?’ Harley’s snarl grew, raising his fist a little.

Tony had misunderstood so much. If this was only today’s occurrence, he felt a little sick to watch the rest, the regret pooling in the pit of his stomach increasing as the clips continued.

Even if it would kill him, Tony would watch every individual lab session.

-

By the end of the compilation, the sun had risen and Tony was groggily resting his forehead on the lab desk, overcome with contrition.

‘FRI, is Pep up?’ He groaned through his exhaustion, standing up shakily.

‘Ms Potts has been up for 1 hour and is at a business meeting with the Secretary-General of the United Nations,’ FRIDAY responded cheerily, Tony’s sign to get his ass up.

Tony’s idea of “getting his ass up” was less productive than he’d hoped. He poured himself a larger than normal glass of whatever was in the first bottle he could get his hands on, leaning back in a chair stiffly as he inhaled the scent of heavy alcohol. Pepper was going to yell at him for drinking so early in the morning, but he didn’t care. Nothing would hurt more than Peter’s words.

‘You tried to apologise, but you’ve just fucked it up again.’

He was so useless, and he’d wasted his chances to be a father to Peter. Guilt entrapped him and restricted his mind, engulfing himself in self-deprecating thoughts. His heart began to race, and he leant forward, dropping his glass on the side table with more force than he intended. Liquid spilled over the sides, dripping down the table as his breathing intensified. He clenched at his chest, taking harsh, empty breaths as he struggled to sit comfortably. An involuntary gasp left his throat, hoarse breaths entering and leaving his lungs as air was ripped from his throat. Was he drowning? Was the hazy feeling in his lungs a rush of water, and it was slowly killing him?

The vibranium shield, slamming into his helmet over and over and over, ricocheting blood splattering across his face as his faceplate dislodged.

Stumbling forwards, he fumbled with the nanotech in his chest, tapping frantically at it so it would activate faster. His heart was pounding, throbbing upon his ribs and threatening to tear through his skin as it pulsed faster. Grappling for the arm of the chair with his trembling hands, he felt his vision deteriorate, the alcohol dripping onto the carpet faster.

Faster, faster, faster.

It was like a ticking time bomb, two minutes until he’d go under and his lungs would be full of water. His trembling hand swept the coffee table, knocking glass onto the floor that shattered into bedazzling shards hidden in the carpet.

Peter throwing punch after punch into Harley’s helmet, knocking the teen back as he battled his own injuries, charred, scarred, burnt skin and tearing flesh ripping through his shredded suit.

The nanotech encased him with metal, but his heart still pulsed against his chest and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, even when he clenched them and knelt down, taking slow breaths to pull air into his choking lungs.

‘Boss, you appear to be having a severe panic attack,’ FRIDAY mentioned unhelpfully.

‘Yeah, I wasn’t…huff…aware,’ he spoke through harsh breaths, leaning over further.

‘I suggest you take deep breaths,’ the AI chirped, and Tony listened, despite the idea of him listening to a programmed voice for advice being kind of comical. He was having a panic attack, like he’d had about wormholes and getting killed, but now, about his son.

His son.

-

It was early in the morning but his mother had called anyway, up at dawn to help with the fruit harvesting in Rose Hill.

‘Hey Ma,’ he picked up the phone, relaxing onto his mattress as the woman’s thick southern accent projected through his headphones.

‘Harles, sweetheart, how’ve you been recovering? I saw the news, I called Tony and talked his ear off.’

‘I’m going okay, I think,’ he spoke comfortingly, assuring his ma gently. ‘I’m still healing but I’m back at school.’

‘Anything interesting at school, sweetheart?’ She asked positively. Back in Rose Hill, the most interesting school occurrence was nothing like New York, and nobody knew enough people for any gathering with more than just whoever went to the local high school.

Grinning, he replied quickly. ‘I’m going to a party next week.’

‘I’m glad you’ve found friends, Harley,’ she spoke happily. ‘I remember just how hard it was when you used to get pushed around by those no-good, dirty nobodies.’

Harley remembered it all too well. The scathing looks, the bruises, and the scars that he’d hide from his family and wait desperately for them to heal, sometimes for weeks on end.

‘When they stole your bag, I called up his mama to give them a piece of my mind,’ his ma recited, laughing fondly at the memory. ‘Next day she pulled her son out of class and whooped his ass.’

‘I remember that,’ he chuckled, although it wasn’t as pleasant a memory for him. ‘They gave me a wedgie every day after that.’

‘Well I gotta pick up your sister from a friend’s, I’ll talk to you soon, Harles.’

‘Bye Ma, lots of love, and say hi to Abby for me,’ he smiled, hoping it would be heard through the phone.

‘Goodbye sweetheart,’ his ma ended the call, leaving Harley alone with his own spinning thoughts. Sitting up from his bed, he glanced at the mirror in the corner of the extensive room.

Disgust was suddenly swirling in his stomach, flooding throughout his body and coating his skin. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. When he did eventually man up and stare at his reflection, he didn’t see himself.

There was no lanky, scrawny kid with tousled hair and a black eye that his ma knew. God, if his ma saw him today, she’d call him like she saw him, a no-good, dirty nobody with flashy hair and flashy clothes. No scars littering his arms from all the times they’d shoved him into the lockers. No dirty t-shirt stained with mud and blood and worn to cover the horrible bruises that he’d gotten from when they’d thrown him into the mud and beaten him for not kissing Beatrice in the freshman grade. He didn’t want to kiss her, or any girl, and they mocked him for it.

Instead, it was like he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine, with perfect blonde hair and oceanic eyes, ones he’d used too many times to entice others into following his lead. His hands, muscular and still tense, he used to punch someone, more often than not. His hands, that cradled Peter’s jaw as blood spewed from the boy’s wound, from a punch that Harley had given. His hands, that wore the Iron Lad gloves but fought against other heroes, only because he wanted to prove his dominance against someone who dominated him.

His lips, that had cursed out Peter so many times, berating and spitting words full of hostility towards the teen, and he didn’t even know him.

Peter said it himself, he still hated Harley, and understandably. Even if they’d talked briefly today, he was dead to the teen.

Harley was vile. He was no better than the bullies who used to hurt him, and now he was doing the same thing.

And Peter was right. If he was nothing without his suit, and the mask he put up at school purely to cling to his small shred of popularity, then he shouldn’t have it.

-

Harley couldn’t sleep. He’d been awake for the past couple of hours, deciding not to fall asleep after calling his ma, so instead he stared at he and Peter’s Iron Man replica design while his own mocking taunts rung in his ears. Nano-tech was something he’d only glanced over, but never truly worked on like what he was doing now. With a groggy mind and a stuffy head, he rolled out from under the covers, stumbling into the hallway.

There was an audible gasp, but not like anything familiar enough. Sneaking down towards the source of the noise, he held his breath and peeked around the corner of the doorframe.

Tony was hunched over, taking short, useless breaths as he struggled to stand up.

Harley wasn’t good with helping people with panic attacks. When he’d been with Tony all those years ago, he’d done nothing but just send the man into a further spiral. So instead, he watched the man silently from the doorway, hoping his presence wouldn’t interfere and just make everything worse. He probably was no help anyway, just the root of every problem like he’d discovered.

Eventually, the billionaire’s breathing slowed, and he sat forward in his chair, his head in his hands.

‘Tony?’ He spoke gently, waiting for the man to look up.

Tony’s eyes were bloodshot. He’d been crying, but Harley was too afraid to ask why. His hair was a mess, brown and grey and sticking up in different spots as he struggled to get his breath back.

‘Have you been bullying Peter?’ He asked, his voice hoarse and low. Harley stepped out from the doorframe, his footsteps wearily inching closer to the man. He wordlessly bit his tongue, unsure of whether to say the truth, or preserve himself.

‘Please, Harley, just tell me,’ the man’s voice turned into a desperate beg. ‘I just want to know.’

Taking a shaky breath, Harley opened his mouth, hesitant to speak, but the man, the billionaire who reigned superiority over everyone else, had tears pouring down his face as he groaned hopelessly.

He didn’t know what to do. And in that case, he just went with a gut feeling. Digging deep through the overflowing pit of misery, he found his way out.

‘Yeah, I have.’

Chapter Text

The sun glared down in shades of tangerine, blanketing the grass outside. It had been a long, dry summer, with not enough rain for the crops to grow so Harley was sitting and waiting for the first drop of rain, anticipating the familiar petrichor and catching the chilling drops of water on his tongue. He was perched on the top of a hay bale, pulling mindlessly at each individual strand and chucking it on the grass as he flipped his flat football in one hand. He wasn’t particularly athletic, but when the weather wasn’t so excruciating, he took the opportunity to kick it around as if he was.

‘Harles, you better come inside before you catch somethin’,’ his ma called from inside the house, waving her tea towel as he ran around in the yard.

‘It’s summer, Ma, there ain’t no chill out here,’ he yelled back, kicking over a crate with his football.

‘There’s someone here to see you!’

Spinning clumsily on his heel, he made a beeline for the door, sprinting into the warmth of the kitchen. He took a deep inhale, the sugary fruity goodness like heaven in the air, his tongue watering at the thought.

‘Harley Keener, it’s been a while,’ Tony Stark stood against the bench with a slice of cherry pie, dripping with wealth in the rotting barn of a house. It had been a while. Tony only supplied Harley’s family with grocery money and impossibly expensive equipment, but never bothered to call like he promised.

‘I know,’ the boy nodded, stepping from one foot to the other in anticipation. ‘I’ve counted the days since last time you called.’

‘And how many days would that be?’ The billionaire crossed his arms jokingly.

‘Too long.’

‘Well I’m here, and maybe you’ll come with me,’ Tony offered, and opened his arms. ‘You won’t say no, Harles, because we’re connected.’

‘The Big Apple does have better schools,’ Harley’s ma nodded, brushing powdered sugar-covered hands onto her gingham apron. ‘It might be good for you, baby.’

‘What if I say no,’ Harley grinned smugly. ‘Will you cut me off?’

‘Maybe,’ Tony raised his eyebrows. ‘So yes it is, then?’

On one hand, Tony had just asked him to up and go from his life to go with him, a man who’d ignored him for years only just reappeared even after the years of torment in and out of school.

On the other hand, he had the chance to start a new life as someone who wasn’t a loser.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t a hard decision. Tony had said he could visit his ma and Abby anytime he wanted, even if it was in the middle of the night. It also meant he wouldn’t be the only outsider. New York was eternally bigger than Rose Hill, so surely he wouldn’t be the only gay guy in a ten mile radius.

Harley felt like he was in a movie, from the moment he farewelled his teary mother and nonchalant sister, who was plenty excited to be an only child for the months he would be in the big city, to the moment he stepped into Tony Stark’s private jet. If it wasn’t obvious from the second they’d met that the man was a billionaire, just the way Tony travelled was enough to be a sign. His movie life extended to when he was in the air, staring eagerly out the window from his very first plane ride to catch a glance at Manhattan's towering skyscrapers, his eyes piercing for superheroes. His own suit sat somewhere in the jet, rattling and ready to be tinkered with, once he could run a couple of kilometres and deadlift one thousand tons without getting burnt out.

An ecstatic adrenaline rush pulsed through his veins as the plane touched down in the airport. It only further convinced him that becoming a superhero would be a good idea, because flying through the sky limitlessly was something he could only dream of in Rose Hill. Here, in New York, it was the normal.

‘Harles, you ready? We’ve got business to do,’ Tony looked up from his StarkPad, although he was not doing business and was instead watching Desperate Housewives with an earbud in. He stayed silent though, shockingly, following the man out of the plane and into the back of a shiny black Audi. Or at least that’s what the billionaire said, Harley didn’t know much about cars that weren’t old metal boxes out in the middle of nowhere.

‘Harles, Happy, Happy, Harles,’ Tony introduced him to the grumpy man in the driver’s seat.

Ha, the irony.

‘Nice to meet you, Harley,’ the man greeted him pleasurably, beginning their descent out of the airport and into the bustling city.

‘Tones, am I picking the kid up from school?’ Happy asked the billionaire, taking the opportunity to turn around in a moment of particularly sticky traffic. Tony shook his head, and Harley tilted his head, wondering who this kid was.

‘I didn’t know you had a kid,’ Harley grinned, turning to the man. His eyes widened frantically, a panicked expression appearing on his face before it faded into realisation.

‘No, no, he’s an intern,’ Tony nodded, smiling. ‘You’ll like him. He’s the friendliest person to walk this planet.’

Harley felt his chest clench. The billionaire had taken aboard another person, probably a teen, and that’s why he never came to Rose Hill.

Harley had decided he couldn’t be like the kid he was in Rose Hill. No more scrawny boy who people could push around and mock and berate.

He wouldn’t let this new kid throw him around and be top dog. Harley had to show him who was the original.

-

‘Yeah, I have.’

Tony looked up at him, a tear rolling down his cheek. He didn’t speak for a second, and as time ticked by, Harley was starting to wonder how much longer he could go preparing himself to be ripped apart.

‘Why?’

Why? God, Harley didn’t know. He wouldn’t have been doing it if it was so clear in his fucked up brain.

‘You hurt him. You hurt my kid, Harley,’ Tony’s voice broke, and it was as if the billionaire had reached into his chest and pulled out his lungs. He couldn’t breathe.

‘I know.’

‘Why did you turn into them?’

Them. The evil kids that would beat him up and turn him into dirt. The ones who would mock and berate and cuss him out till he was bruised and battered and no more important than the cow manure on the side of the road.

‘Are you gonna send me back to Rose Hill?’ Harley murmured, tilting his head. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad back in Tennessee, because he was a hero and basically a celebrity. He wouldn’t be bullied, surely, and he’d be able to leave all his mistakes back in New York.

‘I want to,’ Tony admitted, looking down at his feet. ‘But I’d just be abandoning you like I did to Peter. I can’t make the same mistake again.’

‘Are you gonna punish me?’

‘I think guilt is the worst punishment you can get.’

-

Peter hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, his hand wavering near the coffee machine but flinching away ever so often, because caffeine and spider blood was not a friendly conversation. He’d spent another hour digging through Karen’s intricate coding to bypass Tony’s security merely so Peter could block him and ignore all his calls. He’d hooked up the AI to his laptop, the device surrounded with ice packs so it wouldn’t overheat while he scanned line after line of code.

He didn’t deserve ratty sweatpants and dumpster goggles after his treatment, but if he wore either suit connected to Karen, the billionaire would most likely try to call him and not leave him alone like he wanted. He was frankly sick of it, and was happy to leave the man brooding and contrited until he owned up to his actions at a friendlier time of day.

Groggily rubbing his eyes, he rolled off the dining room chair and onto the floor in front of an unimpressed May. He’d gotten a maximum of two hours of sleep, and it was absolutely showing in his face.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve done something that is not along the lines of “staying up to do homework”, Pete,’ she frowned, arching a brow. Wincing, he rolled from his position on the ground to a trembling stand, directly avoiding eye contact and her frequent glances towards the dining room table, featuring an open laptop and not one but two Spider-Man suits.

Way to give himself away.

‘I stayed up to do homework?’ He tried but to no avail, as his aunt just shook her head disappointedly, running an exhausted hand through her bed hair.

‘I don’t even want to hear it, I have a long shift today,’ she sighed, rubbing her forehead. ‘Now can you make me a coffee?’

Finally regaining his sense of balance, Peter nodded, shuffling stiffly over to the machine and turning on after all those times he’d physically restrained himself from it the past couple of hours. It whirred loudly, clunking and spitting out beans left and right. Done with watching the disastrous machine fight for its life to produce a few measly drops of caffeine, May slammed her hand onto the pause button, roughly unplugging it and digging for the instant coffee. Miserably, Peter reminded himself to fix the machine, again. He took a deep breath, collecting the mess of wires from the table and dragging himself to his room to get ready for school.

Parker Luck seemed to find its way to strike him in more ways than one. He jogged into physics nine minutes late, a test paper forced into his hand and an aggressive finger pointing him to the lone table in front of the teacher’s desk. He slumped his bag onto the ground, his mind fizzling into nothing as he turned the first page.

At break, he choked on his donut. It was the first time he’d had something decent enough at ten thirty in the morning, but instead it was being pushed out of him by MJ and her precise performance of the heimlich maneuver. Afterwards she’d shrugged, mentioning something about practicing first aid and how he should learn it more often.

‘I can fix gun wounds, MJ,’ he huffed, sighing and staring miserably at the sugary dessert splattered across the floor.

‘Can you? Or do you just dig bullets out of your own flesh and wait for it to close over?’ The girl grinned sardonically.

‘Same thing.’

The only time he wasn’t pulling the eternal short straw was when it came to Harley. In fact, there wasn’t even one moment where Harley was actively doing something against him. Sure, he still stood behind Flash when the bully would shove and push and taunt Peter, but he shared a sympathetic glance when he thought no one was watching. It was weird. So, so weird.

Peter still scowled at him when he could though. He wasn’t getting off the hook any time soon, even if his weirdly nice attitude made something erupt in Peter's chest. Damn his stupid morals.

Ned and MJ swarmed him in study hall, finding him draped over a bean bag probably getting his needed night of sleep while his chemistry homework was strewn around him.

‘Peter.’

The boy continued to take deep breaths, but not before MJ kicked him in the shins, and he leapt probably three feet in battle mode before dropping back down lazily.

‘You’re lucky I didn’t waterboard you,’ she grimaced, deadpanning and motioning to the water bottle in her bag.

‘No thanks,’ the boy rubbed his eyes, groggily turning over to rest his head on the side of the bean bag. ‘Can’t…‘m wanting to rest.’

MJ crossed her arms, dragging him with all her might onto the floor, where he still stayed slumped. She then pulled a particularly thick hardcover from the shelf, dropping it straight above his skull. His eyes snapped open, and he twisted uncomfortably to the side, finally awake.

‘What’s up, MJ,’ he gave her a lopsided grin, before waving enthusiastically at Ned as if he hadn’t just been half asleep.

‘Cut the crap, Peter, you need to start answering your calls,’ she snapped, pointing to her phone. ‘You regretted to inform us Tony kicked you out?’

‘Uhhhh, yeah.’

‘Ned, drop another book on his head.’

-

Detention rolled around too slowly. Ned and MJ had farewelled him by the door, and Peter miserably waved back as he found a desk at the back of the classroom. The teacher in charge was barely awake, pressing individual keys on his keyboard to pass the time. Discreetly putting his headphones on and pulling up his hood, Peter opened his laptop.

There were still thousands of tweets and posts about Harley and his kidnapping, most still bearing the name of only the southern teen, until he found a tweet that had definitely knocked the wind out of him. It was only a year old, but it caught his eye instantly.

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

moving to the big apple, whats the chance i meet the spider guy from youtube?

abby @abbsfordays

zero, get over your stupid crush on him

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

noooo i bet hes got abs for days unlike u

abby @abbsfordays

shut up no one likes u

speedy @spidermansbiggestfan1

he saved my life once

i’m better @thanallofyou

hes prob 30

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

idc he’d be a dilf

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

@spidermansbiggestfan1 are u lying

speedy @spidermansbiggestfan1

no it was on the news google it

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

lucky can he save me

i’m better @thanallofyou

update me pls if it happens

Peter’s eyes widened, and he didn’t have to do much digging to guess who “yeehaw mf” was, although it was weird to find Harley’s quite distinctive and very active secret account. Peter knew the teen had a normal account, but this one was like a pot of gold. Peter regrettably had the very unpleasurable experience of stumbling onto the side of Twitter where people actively thirsted on him. This, however, was unlike he’d ever gone through, and he’d gone through a lot of original experiences. Hesitantly he clicked on the profile, not sure what he was going to expect.

Look, it wasn’t as traumatising as he’d expected. The boy had embarrassingly started hyping up his own hero persona, with the absence of revealing he was actually Iron Lad. There were a couple of new tweets and reposts, the most recent from a couple of weeks ago, right after the kidnapping.

spill the @teaaaaa

i heard spiderman was kidnapped with iron lad

i’m better @thanallofyou

@keen4potatoes isnt that the love of your life

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

@thanallofyou yup

Peter blinked, tilting his head. He was blind, right? His spidey senses must’ve been weakening and making him need glasses. Surely. Surely. Maybe “yeehaw mf” wasn’t Harley in some twisted world, and it wouldn’t make him feel so conflicted inside. He hoped it was some sort of deceiving joke, and that he was just reading into a tweet with the intellect of an English teacher. Because otherwise...the kind of attractive guy who bullied him was in love with Spider-Man.

What the fuck.

Chapter Text

The last couple of days had been only a repetitive spiral of what ifs. Whether Tony had forgotten about him, whether Harley did love Spider-Man—who was Peter, and whether May was going to shred him alive for staying up late again. He really tried to just revert back to normality, but it was difficult when life before Tony Stark had frankly been mundane, because he hadn’t even been friends with MJ yet and it was just him and Ned building LEGOs. Of course, Peter still enjoyed that, but it was a little different then when it was just them, alone, every lunch time. He was lucky for Ned, that he stuck through and didn’t ditch Peter for some cooler group of kids, every single time.

Harley was acting weird. Peter had come to this conclusion by the end of the day on Wednesday.

Students littered the hallway, creating an intricate labyrinth with school bags and friend groups that blocked off possibly every exit in the school. Peter’s head hung low, trying not to attract any more attention than necessary on the way to detention. His last class didn’t have Ned nor MJ, so he had to face the end of the day alone, finishing up his homework and sketching some new prototype web combinations for his suit. People already knew he’d punched Harley, because unfortunately that was what happened when one got into an altercation with a popular student. Especially if that popular student was also a resident Avenger. Obviously, that just made people like him less, because what loser would try and beat up a superhero?

Pursing his lips, he snaked through the students and tried not to share a gaze with one of Harley’s superfans, a group of teenage girls who looked like they were out for blood every time they were in his vicinity. The walk to the almost empty classroom was humiliating enough, but with everyone knowing why Puny Penis Parker was going there, it just made his already shit situation…shitter.

He’d finally invaded the majority of students, his eyes down at his feet, busted up sneakers sliding on the vinyl floors. Taking his tangled headphones out of his pocket, he began to speed up, fiddling with the thin white wires in an attempt to fix them.

He probably should’ve been looking up, because he felt himself smash straight into another student, his open bag going tumbling across the floors. The contents of his backpack spilled out, including the very expensive nano-tech wristlets. He made a dive for them, pocketing them but moving slower for his textbooks and smashed-up laptop. Looking up for the first time since he’d begun his journey, he met a pair of very familiar, icy eyes.

Peter stopped and waited. He knew exactly what was coming, so he waited for the boy to open his mouth and berate him. Maybe for the long time he stared into those piercing eyes, his body had begun to melt and turn to jelly under the strange look. He blinked after what felt like eternity, his eyes still latched onto Harley’s, but instead of a sardonic smirk or just some vile glare, the teen looked sympathetic.

Harley reached for the maths textbook lying dead on the ground, picking it up and holding it out for Peter, a gentle smile on his face. Arching a brow, Peter took it and stuffed it deep into his bag, along with the rest of the contents that had strewn around the floor. Then he met the southern teen’s gaze again, swallowing and giving him a half-smile.

‘Um, thanks,’ he muttered, zipping up the backpack and slinging it around his shoulder. The other teen just nodded in response, and continued walking.

No quippy response or leering gaze or anything. Nada.

Had he found out that Peter was indefinitely stalking his secret social media account? Perhaps. But there was definitely something up. Laying back in his tiny twin bed, he opened his laptop and opened the tab again, but there were no new replies. Sick of listening to his thoughts running back and forth in his skull, he leapt up, before May could barge in and complain about him leaving so late in the evening. He dug for his nano-tech suit and dived head first into the air.

Tiny metal particles fizzled over his skin like liquid, but the first thing he noticed was that the air tasted crisp—the taste of snow. He’d been waiting for so long to feel the tiny snowflakes on his skin, the thrill of swinging through a blizzard while he froze his ass off. Spiders couldn’t thermoregulate but with his grit and a billion-dollar suit, he was all good. He swung through the sky, soaring past skyscrapers with frosty windows and plenty of leverage to stick from.

‘Karen, any crime around?’ He asked his AI, eyes scanning the street level for muggers or anyone in the slightest of danger.

‘Good evening Peter, there seems to be an altercation near Grand Central PKWY,’ Karen replied cheerfully.

‘Map it for me,’ he exclaimed, launching webs and swinging down, then back up like a pendulum. A three-second clip played in the corner of his vision from a police camera, and at that moment he was grateful he’d opted out of his classic suit and used something a little more high tech.

He landed on the highway in a roll, quickly webbing up across the road thickly so people wouldn’t be inclined to keep driving through, because there was always someone. A short, blue-haired woman held a gun looking straight out of a scifi movie, blasting soundwaves around and sending shockwaves throughout the sky. She fired it out towards the cars driving in the opposite direction, a fancy looking sports car rotating upwards haphazardly, the driver screaming and shaking as it spun. It was almost like watching a movie, the vehicle soaring and spinning in slow motion. Peter propelled himself forward, launching webs quickly to form some sort of net for the car to land on, but as soon as he’d landed the final one, another sound wave sent him flying. He clung onto a lamp post desperately, using a combination of his stickiness and a tight grip on the metal to keep him from being thrown away.

‘I can’t believe they sent the mutant, not the billionaire, that wasn't the plan,’ the woman seemed to hiss into her comms, and Peter whipped around, dropping back onto the road.

‘What? Am I not rich enough for you?’ He exclaimed dramatically. ‘This suit is worth more than Captain America’s shield!’

That probably was the wrong thing to say, because a devious grin appeared on the woman’s face, and she began to chase after him, shockwave gun still in her grasp. Peter sprinted away for a couple of metres before webbing the overhead sign structure and kicking upwards to swing around it. He flipped above, relishing in the short adrenaline high before landing onto the woman’s shoulders harshly, his feet digging into her collarbone.

‘Give me that,’ he grit his teeth, struggling to balance as she tried to shake him off. He webbed her face, but she projected the gun again and Peter crashed onto the concrete, swearing colourfully as he landed on his shoulder with a crack.

‘How much do you reckon your suit sells for?’ The woman asked, a cheeky grin on her face as she fired the weapon again.

Peter braced himself, bending his knees and gritting his teeth as shockwaves reverberated through him. The nano-tech separated slightly, allowing the sound to travel through without killing it. Unfortunately, Peter couldn’t say the same for his body. He let out a loud groan as it pulsed through his skin, his organs malfunctioning temporarily. It was like he was in slow motion, the criminal sprinting towards him and making a beeline for his wristlets. After a second, his body snapped back into place, giving him the opportunity to snatch the weapon as she powered towards him. Clinging onto the gun with his left hand, he punched her in the jaw, the bone snapping audibly. Wincing, he intercepted a kick to his shins, but he webbed her feet to the ground, her body flailing while he pushed her to the ground.

‘Price is non-disclosable,’ he hissed, using webs to keep her on the road. ‘Karen, call the police.’

He shoved the weapon under his arm, swinging back to his apartment exhaustedly. His body ached as each muscle stretched, straining under the singular thread of silk, and it didn’t help that in between each web, he had to freefall for longer than necessary because one arm was useless. Taking a leap of faith, he soared towards the fire escape, clambering noisily up until he rolled onto his tiny twin bed. He had no idea what he was going to do with a shockwave gun, and it wasn’t as if he could just take it back to Tony. So carefully, after disabling his suit, he rested it far under his bed and hoped there wasn’t an earthquake that would set it off and blow his room up.

22 hours later, on Friday

Natasha was technically a super spy. She had eyes everywhere, even in a tower where Tony controlled every electrical and maybe mechanical aspect with just voice command. Unfortunately she didn’t have Tony’s clearance, so she had to do things manually. She preferred it that way though, because artificial intelligence wasn’t really her style, and it proved useful to be observant when no one else seemed to be.

So when she found herself trailing a seventeen year old, she knew either she was losing her mind or Harley was up to something.

Harley had left the dining room table a little too enthusiastically, darting back to his room and coming back out in a matter of seconds. He seemed to hold something tightly in his grasp, too big to be his phone, which was in his back pocket, but probably not drugs because he didn’t look high off his ass. The boy didn’t slip into the elevator like she’d expected, instead taking the long and grueling walk down the emergency staircase, which frankly, was much easier to follow. It also meant he didn’t want to be chased, but unlucky him, she thought with a smug grin.

After trailing him down a million stairs, the teenager snuck into the extensive garage, dressed ready to go out and not like he planned to tinker or blow up very expensive sports cars. Nat slipped into the room behind him, ducking behind cars as the boy observed each vehicle carefully and quietly. Harley ran his hand over the hot-rod red paint of a vehicle, toying with the keys in his hands. It was one of the billionaire’s more recent collectibles, and Nat didn’t understand much about buying cars but she could tell by the look of this one, it

‘What are you doing?’ She asked plainly, revealing herself. The boy almost jumped out of his skin, his face going red as he swallowed.

‘Going out,’ he spoke bluntly, avoiding eye contact. He had vintage sunglasses and a tight white tank top, along with oversized jeans that she thought were going to fall down at any second. He was most definitely going somewhere, and Tony had no idea.

‘Are you going to tell him?’ He looked up for the first time, sharing a gaze with her. She shrugged, before turning around towards the garage door.

‘I think he’ll notice before I get to him,’ Nat responded, frowning. ‘You were pretty easy to follow.’

‘He doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,’ the boy stared at his feet, unlocking the flashy vehicle. ‘I probably deserve it.’

‘Huh?’

‘Ask him yourself.’

Arching a brow, Nat began to leave him, until something clicked in her head. ‘He knows about Peter.’

Harley nodded slowly, and she would’ve thrown him onto the road and ran him over if he didn’t have such a guilt-ridden expression on his face. ‘I just need a break from it all. It’s been on my mind all week.’

‘Okay,’ Nat pursed her lips. She wasn’t happy with him, at all, but remorse trailed the boy in front of her like a shadow, seemingly clinging onto him even if he wanted to let it go.

‘Okay?’ Harley blinked. ‘You ain’t gonna kill me? I was sure it would happen, one way or another.’

‘I think your mind is doing a good enough job for that,’ she sighed slowly, gently placing her hand on the boy’s shoulder and resisting the urge to punch it. ‘Guilt is dangerous, Harley. Don’t let it consume you, even if you think you deserve it.’

‘I do deserve it,’ Harley murmured, taking a slow breath.

‘There are other ways to get rid of that guilt. You have to act upon it. Speak to Peter.’

The teen nodded in agreement, although reluctant. ‘Okay, um, thank you, Natasha.’

‘No worries, Harley. Fix your mistakes.’

And with that the boy got into the car, turned it on, and zipped out of the garage.

Chapter Text

Flash’s house was exactly as Peter pictured it. Obnoxiously modern, but in the way a couple of rectangles were piled on top of each other, rather than with any taste or interesting design like the Stark tower. There was a stretch of parking along the road but it was overrun by teens, so May stopped the car beside the gate with a wide grin on her face.

‘You both ready?’ His aunt asked, her hands on the wheel of the car. ‘I don’t want to run anyone over, there’s so many teens who’re just chilling.’

‘May, are you trying to be cool?’ Peter snickered, smiling at Ned who sat beside him.

‘I am already cool,’ the woman grinned smugly, unlocking the car door. ‘Now go!’

Peter sighed, opening the door as the two piled out. ‘Bye May,’ he smiled weakly. The car sped away, leaving him with no choice but to bite the bullet.

‘Even if Flash is an ass, MJ will be here,’ Ned exclaimed excitedly. He’d gotten roped into Peter’s plans but seemed confident enough that it wasn’t going to go to shit.

The front door was wide open but Flash still stood proudly near it, greeting every guest as if it wasn’t a rager.

‘Yo Penis, glad to see you weren’t bailing out!’ The teen smirked, crossing his arms.

‘Uh, yeah, we’re here,’ Peter pursed his lips, hanging close to his best friend.

‘Why don’t you have a drink?’

‘Flash, I’m 17,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘You have anything normal?’

‘Plenty,’ Flash grinned, although Peter could tell there was an edge to his tone, but it could well have been the alcohol. For a couple of seconds, they both scowled at each other but fortunately it was short-lived because from outside, the revving of an engine interrupted their stare-off.

Reluctantly, Peter followed the crowd to get a good look at the noise, peering outside towards the front lawn where a striking red sports car pulled up onto the driveway.

‘Is that…Harley?’ Ned asked, slightly awestruck.

‘Yeah, Ned, I think it is.’

There was the teen, lounging in the front seat of a striking ruby Lamborghini displaying inky sunglasses and a ridiculous attitude, being ogled at like eye candy from the brunette girl in the seat beside him. It was a car Peter had seen before. In fact, it was a very familiar persona as well. Maybe the real owner of the car had something to do with it.

Harley sauntered up the lawn, wearing a top that hung flatteringly low down his chest, partially exposing his bruised neckline. The girl trailed him like a bunny, alluring green eyes drinking up the boy’s visible muscles.

‘A sports car?’ Peter raised an eyebrow at the boy. ‘You know this is a rager, right?’

‘It’s a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ,’ he grinned smugly, as if Peter had any idea what that was.

‘Nice car, it looks familiar,’ he gave the boy a half-smile, aware of the boy’s icy eyes raking over him.

‘Yeah, maybe it does, darlin’,’ Harley lulled, a tempted smile pursing at his lips. ‘Did you come in one too, or did your aunt’s metal box have to suffice?’

He scowled at the boy’s comment, Harley seemingly back to normal. It definitely lifted a weight from his shoulders, but a new feeling pierced his chest. Rolling his eyes as the girl joined at his hip, twirled a silky strand of hair around her finger and announced out in a flirtatious tone. ‘I’m sure it still makes for a perfect afterparty.’

‘Oh, ew, gross,’ Peter faked a gag, pushing past them towards the tables of food and drinks. He’d lost Ned in the crowd but surely he was with MJ.

He’d never drank before. Sure, he’d taken a sneaky sip of champagne, but gotten drunk? How did spiders react to alcohol?

Either way, the stabbing in his chest was still there, and he was desperate to get rid of it. He took a hesitant sip of his cup, but began to down it faster as the familiar taste of lemonade hit his tongue. It tasted normal enough, so maybe Flash was right, and he was quick to judge.

After what felt like a good couple of minutes, his head began to spin a little, strobing lights pulsing in the background. The air reeked of weed, a heavy haze resting in the air. He shook it off though, just relieved all the nauseating thoughts in his head were fizzling away. Maybe if he drank more, it would disappear forever.

‘Parker, you look a little lost, how ‘bout we play a game?’ Harley had appeared again, a luring smile on his face. He handed him another red solo cup, its contents slightly foggy but enticing enough. Ignoring Harley’s lecherous gaze, he downed it slowly and fought through the new burn that scorched his throat.

Look, hardcore drinking games with his enemy was certainly not something Peter pictured himself doing. But he did find it more exciting than standing around like a loner, despite his friend’s weary glances every so often. The southern teen also had a wicked sense of competitiveness, one that rivalled his own.

‘Drink! Drink! Drink!’ The crowd cheered, yelling loudly as Harley downed the contents of the plastic cup in one go and tossing it aside. He began for the next one, Peter hot on his heels.

Harley smashed the last empty cup down onto the grass, shoving Peter playfully as he too downed the last drops of his drink. He stumbled slightly, scowling at the teen as he took a drunken victory lap of the crowd. Mumbling incoherently, Peter made his way back inside, his stomach aching with swirling bile threatening to up-heave. Searching for the bathroom, he dodged the hormonal teens blocking the staircase, lounging nonchalantly as they made out with each other.

The line for the bathroom was long, and after a couple of stretching minutes, he shuffled from the group to barge to the front of the line.

‘What’s goin’ on in there?’ Peter managed to get out, his speech slurring a little. He managed to get a peek into the dim blue light, squinting as he caught sight of what was not going to the bathroom.

‘Get back in fuckin’ line and wait your turn,’ a guy shoved him from the shadows, and Peter scowls back, trying to make out exactly what they were doing, before multiple began to snort up something incoherent in the darkness.

Another teenager tapped him on the shoulder nonchalantly. ‘Lines, man, lines.’

‘I’m not getting back in line!’ He huffed, clutching his torso before making a beeline for the kitchen. Maybe if his mind was numb, he wouldn’t be so inclined to upheave onto the tiles. Snaking through the crowd of teenagers, he pursed his lips and tried not to inhale the blending scent of weed and artificial aerosols, a couple of people in the corner smoking while others held what appeared to be colourful portable batteries emitting fog as they were brought to the user’s mouth, but on further inspection; vapes. He grimaced, finally making his way into the extensive, busy kitchen and his eyes lay on the wide selection of straight alcohol. Shots, spirits and drinks in numerous vivid colours caught his eye enticingly, but he dodged it and went straight for the cooler.

Reaching through thick chunks of ice, he pulled out an unopened, clear bottle of liquor. Regrettably not bothering to read the label, he unscrewed the royal blue cap hurriedly. Tipping his head back, he took two healthy swigs of the clear liquid, hoping it would erase whatever illegal activity he may have been a witness for. It scorched his throat, burning as it traveled down and into his system. It left him buzzing, his body indecisive between taking another gulp or leaving it. Either way, it distracted him from the agony in his stomach.

‘Peter, don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?’ His friend had appeared, a frown on his face. He reached to inspect the empty cup in Peter’s grasp, arching a brow.

‘Neddddd, I’m fineeee,’ he babbled, before refilling his cup with sparkly lemonade to top off the electricity coursing through his skull.

‘Man, I think you might’ve had enough,’ he frowned. ‘That stuff is spiked.’

‘Spiked? Nedddd, that just makes it more funnn!’

The boy frowned, still mostly sober but clinging onto his unexciting-looking coke tightly. ‘MJ is looking for you. She’s worried, and she never gets worried.’

‘Live a little, man,’ he placed a reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder, nodding enthusiastically. ‘I’m allllll good.’

Deciding he’d had enough of Ned’s negativity, he disappeared back into the crowd. As the floor vibrated in a pulsing synchronization with the bass, he felt himself surrounded by other teens, no longer being dodged like a wildfire but directly up against people that radiated salivating heat. Mindlessly bumping to the music, he found himself beside a teen he didn’t recognise, her hair a deep chestnut and black dress barely at her thighs.

He felt himself tune out from his inner consciousness, their bodies grinding against each other to the thumping pulse of the music’s bass. She turned around, swaying and lost in her own motion, still very up against him. He let out a low moan, alcohol still swimming in his system as the girl turned around, her sparkly hazel eyes almost glassy as if there was an absence of thought behind them. Her face inched closer to his, and he found himself intoxicated in the way the music made them move, their movements identical. Leaning in dazedly, their lips crashed together. It didn’t reek of desperacy like he’d been expecting, but it was messy and disturbed his brain as if it wasn’t all a blur already. He relished in the satisfaction of being so carefree, not having control of his thoughts. Her lips tasted sickly-sweet, her wild hair smelling of tequila. He didn’t know the song pumping through the speakers, or who he was fervently making out with, but it sent a strange thrill down his spine that compelled him for more. Peter ran a hand through the girl’s long hair before stepping away, still under her mystical entrancement. Blinking out of the love spell, his hands reached for the countertop and swept its marbled stone for another shot glass. He didn’t have to stare at the neon blue liquid for any longer before he tipped his head back, swiftly downing it and slamming the empty shot glass onto the counter with a whoop. A couple of people cheered drunkenly, dragging him to the middle as he danced to the thumping music, shouting loudly as cheers escaped his numb throat.

He was in front of a guy now, his hair as dark as the mysterious glint in his eyes. Peter drank in the teen’s irresistible gaze, turning around dancing against him. The guy stepped forward, their bodies pressed together in a frenzy of attraction. Peter bit his lip, his brain a blur, numbly letting the stranger explore his neck with his mouth.

They were so close, their lips just about to meet when Peter felt something jolt into his side, shoving him out of the way and staggering into a group of ecstatic girls. Huffing miserably, he stumbled out onto the lawn where a small crowd of people were huddled.

‘I bet y’all I could do a keg stand, whaddaya say?’ Harley’s southern drawl called from the middle, slightly shaky and out of breath. He jumped up, swaying a little before random hands grappled for his legs. He was in a shaky handstand, held up by a group of strangers who all chanted his name. The hem of his shirt faltered before dropping slightly, partially revealing a v-line and the lower part of… were those abs? A group of girls swooned, giggling as Harley choked up the beer in large gulps. He swayed slightly after a couple more seconds, his body tipping over. He was caught by an older teen, shoving the pissed boy away as his feet hit the ground. He stumbled over to Peter, feet wobbling.

‘Parker, you look like you want to give it a try,’ Harley snickered. Peter shoved him aside, maybe a little too hard, and stood in front of the keg.

He could do a handstand. This would be easy, right?

The nagging voice in his head had gone, fading into the same haze that consumed the music and probably critical thinking that processed in his brain. He placed his hands on top of the keg, steadying himself as much as his swaying body would let him as he kicked upwards to be vertical. His t-shirt began to drop a little, and he could hear a couple of people let out a shocked gasp. Another teen held the cheap plastic pipe in his mouth, and then his mind began to blur a little more than it had before. It would’ve been so much cooler if he was chugging beer from a steel pipe, or something super fancy. Maybe something that switched from beer to soda, back to beer…

A couple of strangers, teens he’d seen around the halls but no one familiar, grabbed onto his legs to keep him steady.

‘Nahh, I can do it on my ownnn,’ he huffed, kicking his legs slightly till the unfamiliar hands let go of his jeans. He began to guzzle up the liquid, swallowing it in large gulps. He stopped for a breather for a second, hiccuping, before he went back in for another swig.

‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ The crowd around him cheered loudly and for a moment, he could hear them calling his name.

‘Peter! Peter!’

He’d never had people chanting his name like that. It was exhilarating.

‘Peter, get down from there,’ he could hear the quiet urge from beside him, was it MJ?

‘Michelle-Jonessss, what’s upppp? I missed you soooo…hic….much…’

‘Do not call me that,’ she hissed in his ear.

‘Get that girl away!’

He dropped to the grass, swaying slightly before letting out a lackadaisical laugh. ‘Heyyyy, she’s just trying to have a go! No harm in that.’

‘I didn’t know Penis could drink so much,’ Flash grinned, clapping overenthusiastically.

‘Darlin’, I didn’t...hic… know you could do that,’ Harley approached him, grinning lopsidedly.

‘Yeahhh, you should try! Or do you need Mr Starrrk to help you with that too?’ He jeered before hiccupping, getting lost in the teen’s icy blue eyes.

‘Mr Stark will be doing no such thing.’

Peter spun around, probably making eye contact with the Iron Man suit behind him. Or at least he thought he did, because he wasn’t sure. Mark one million probably didn't have pupils, or eyeballs for that matter. Iron Man had landed on the grass, his repulsors still slightly lit and sparking at the grass like tiny light shows.

‘Heyyyyy Mr Stark, what…hic…are you doingggg?’ He slurred, stumbling down the grassy hill towards the man. ‘You want to join ussss?’

‘When I said to do as I do, I didn’t mean my past, Pete,’ Tony muttered, his Iron Man mask flipping upwards.

‘Yeahh! Tony Stark at my party!’ Flash cheered drunkenly from behind, and Peter threw his hands up despite the music being a hazy mess in his head. He turned to the crowd of teens that had built up at the front of the porch. He didn’t remember there being so many people in his grade, but the more people there were, the more awesome it was.

‘And if anybodyyy, Iron Man, doesn’t like it, there’s the gate!’ He pointed an exaggerated hand towards the locked gate. Behind him, the billionaire aimed his repulsor at the towering fence, shooting a scarily accurate blast at the lock. It shattered like glass, and nobody moved for a second until the pumping music turned up and all he could hear was the shattering bass in his head.

‘Yeahhhh!’ He followed the chant of teens. He smirked at Harley, flipping him off as he stumbled back up to the top of the hill.

‘Peter Parker, don’t think you’re going anywhere.’

‘But Mis’er Starrrk,’ he protested, letting the world spin around for him.

‘You’re nowhere near the legal drinking age…’

‘In Australiaaa, the legal age is eighteeen and I’m baaaasically eighteen already,’ he rambled.

Tony rolled his eyes, what a party killer, and outstretched his hand. ‘You’re seventeen, now let's split it before some other pissed teenager wants to have a go shooting down your buddy’s house.’

‘I am nooot touching your handd, you’re gonna blast it offff,’ he whined, glancing nervously at his mentor’s glowing glove. Even if his head was spinning and his stomach was swirling, one thing was certain. He was not listening to Tony Stark.

‘I’m not going to blast your hand off,’ the man rolled his eyes. ‘Who do you think I am?’

‘Mis’er Starrrk, I don’t want to only have one hand, then I can’t be Spider-Mannnn,’ he begged, stepping away from the billionaire. ‘Annnddd, you already broke my braaaain.’ He pointed to his skull, flinching violently as he pictured getting smashed into the wall again.

‘Peter,’ Tony swallowed, and Peter was proud that the guilt visibly ate at his core.

‘Yeeeepp, my head still hurts from when you hit me with that daaaangerous suit.’

‘Why don’t you lower your voice, and we can have this conversation in a super cool car,’ Tony shushed him, unwillingly grabbing his wrist. Peter writhed in his grasp but gave up quickly as his stomach swirled nauseously.

‘Is Harley here too?’ The billionaire glanced around, glaring at any teenager who tried to sneak a look at their situation.

‘Yeahhhhh, but he’s pisssed, and he’ll be a different kind of pissed when you take his carrrr,’ Peter groaned, pointing to a circle at the top of the hill and tuning in to his heightened hearing. ‘There he issss, I hear him…swallowing…or slurping?’

‘Jesus, you two will send me to an early grave,’ Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. ‘Now you stay put, you hear me Underoos?’

‘I don’t want to listen to a traaaitor who kicked me ouuut,’ he huffed, crossing his arms over his pancaking stomach.

‘Fred, Michelle, stay with him, alright? So he doesn’t make a run for the girls or whatever you teens do at parties now.’

‘Harley Keener, you get your wasted ass down here, or I won’t hesitate to set fire to whatever shit you’re drinking,’ Peter could hear his mentor clearly, despite the fuzziness in his brain. He was thrilled that he’d gotten the nice Tony while Harley had to deal with mean Tony, but really neither were very fun because neither wanted to join the party.

-

Tony was physically sick. He didn’t know whether it was from the guilt swimming in his stomach or the neon-coloured liquor the teens were downing. He opted for the alcohol idea, pushing down his remorse to focus on the swirling in his stomach. It probably didn’t swim as badly as Peter’s, but the stench of alcohol in the air made him gag. He didn’t want to know what weird new concoctions had been invented under the roof of a teenager at a super smart science school but he knew sure as hell Harley was drinking it up to erase the guilt eating at him. For once, he could understand how Rhodey and Pepper might have felt all those years ago, having to deal with a drunk, overconfident mess.

‘Y’all, this is Toneeessss,’ Harley slurred, a slightly crushed ping pong ball in his palm and a girl slung around his shoulder in frankly less clothes than he was comfortable with.

‘Nope, nope, time to go,’ he dragged the teen from his position, pulling him away from the crowd down the hill towards Peter and his small gang of sober (or so he hoped) friends.

‘Harley, call me!’ The girl exclaimed, giggling and hiccuping as she waved exaggeratedly at him.

‘I’m gay!’ The teen called back, and Tony covered his snort with a cough.

They’d still been trampling towards the bottom of the hill when Tony knew something was very wrong.

‘Where’s Peter…’ He squinted through the darkness, searching for the boy’s silhouette against the moonlight.

‘You think we know either? He bolted as soon as you left. Spider-speed and all,’ Michelle scowled, her arms folded over her chest tensley.

Tony’s grip on Harley tightened as the boy wriggled around. ‘I told you to watch him!’

‘We’re not the ones with the super suit!’ The girl snapped, motioning aggressively to the Iron Man armour.

‘Now you better listen to me now,’ he took a deep breath, turning to Harley, a stern grimace on his face. ‘Don’t fucking bolt or you’re gonna make this much harder than this already is.’

‘Fineeee, old maaaannnn,’ Harley hiccuped, spinning around lazily on his heel and glaring at Ned and Michelle. From there, Iron Man took off.

-

The night was a hazy blur of stars and moonlight, spilling through the sky like tipped milk from a bowl of cereal, cars drifting down the empty road at lightning speed, probably as fast as Thor and his hammer. Peter slowed to a stumbling walk, pausing briefly to dry-heave in a bush. His stomach flipped and swirled in agony, and he was so close to puking that running at top speed hadn’t helped.

But he was so close to outrunning Iron Man.

He felt like a sports car, or at least what one must feel like as it zoomed down the roads, haphazardly dodging other cars who beeped and swore at him. His self-consciousness wouldn’t tell anyone if he accidentally let slip a low growl mimicking the vehicle, unlike everyone else he talked to who were all dirty snitches. He needed to stop associating with dirty snitches. Wobbling slightly, he stood back up stiffly, clinging to a road barrier. The teen had gone completely numb about thirty minutes ago, and his head was like a deadweight, blank and confused enough to not be able to recall the events from earlier. Blinking furiously, he staggered across the road and down the asphalt, approaching shops, people, and flickering green and red and yellow lights that had him captivated.

Did Peter know where he was going? Not entirely, but it was freeing to not be so bound by everyone’s expectations of him, and whether he was to be punished for doing the wrong thing, or existing.

He tripped forward, wrapping his arms around the street pole dramatically, resting his head against it as he spun around it lethargically, shutting his eyes as he drifted underneath the warm light. After a moment, he moved away, only now leaning from it with his hand, spinning around the pole like a dancer lost in the music. His hands grazed the metal until his skin became coarse so he let go, drifting down the busy street and narrowly avoiding bystanders as he stumbled left and right.

He stepped off the curb, dodging swerving cars as they sped down the urban street, his body twirling haphazardly in the headlights.

‘Are you fucking crazy?’ A woman poked her head out of her old car, flicking a cigarette butt from her fingertips onto the road. It ricocheted off the side of the vehicle, and Peter blinked slowly, taking a hard look at the smoker before spinning around the next car like a ballerina. Another car blasted their horn, making him flinch as he skipped past, and his chest furled briefly before he continued on his journey, running his fingers over the chipped blue paint and flipping off the agitated driver. He wanted a car, and surely by becoming a car, he could drive one too. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he darted past another vehicle zooming in the opposite direction. His footsteps were haphazardly unpredictable and he’d lost the ability to control them maybe about an hour ago, but in that hour, life had been blissful. His eyes rolled temporarily into the back of his head, his skull tilting back and forth as he laughed lackadaisical, not to anyone in particular. Back on the footpath, he gave a toothless grin to a woman and her partner, accidentally swerving in front of them before spinning to the side. The woman inched backwards behind the man beside him, and Peter’s eyes widened. He was just trying to be friendly, but they seemed sceptical.

Offended, he tilted his head to the side, raising an arched brow. The woman murmured something into her partner’s ear, their hands clasped together as she stood on her tippy toes before rolling onto the balls of her feet. Her partner frowned concernedly, pursing his lips.

‘He looks like he’s only a teen,’ she muttered, grimacing.

Peter’s enhanced healing, even through his foggy mind, didn’t fail him. Chewing nervously on the inner side of his cheek, he waited for the couple to do something, but they just continued walking, maybe even a little more hurried than before.

‘I aaam a teennn,’ he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out. Just as he’d called out, tough hands gripped his shoulders tensley.

‘You seem to be bluffing a whole lot for someone who lets himself get beaten up by Flash.’

Frantically shaking, he was stuck in a temporary state of paralysis. He shut his eyes desperately, but before he knew it, he was surrounded by darkness. Roughly shrugging off the tight hold on his shoulders, he opened his eyes.

Cornered in the dark shadows of an alleyway, he swallowed, blinking at the two figures in front of him, eerie silhouettes against the warm light illuminating from the street.

‘A drunk teen, huh,’ the first goon, a red-haired man in a face scarf snickered. ‘Easy prey.’

The second, a shorter figure with piercing eyes squinting through their ski mask, laughed maliciously and from the sound of their voice, they sounded like a female. ‘Probably high off his ass. I wonder what group of kids he comes from.’

‘He looks too fucked up, I reckon one of those shitholes out in Brooklyn.’

‘I go to Midtown,’ he mumbled, staring at his feet.

Green-Eyes blinked, her elusive eyes shifting. ‘Isn’t that Harley Keener’s school? The rich kid place?’ This guy must be loaded like the rest of ‘em.’

Peter opened his mouth to tell them he was dirt-poor compared to the other students at Midtown. He couldn’t have them targeting him because he was rich, because he wasn’t. He didn’t even have Tony Stark’s money on disposal anymore either, even if he’d never abused it.

‘Maaaannn, I’m there on a scholarshiiip,’ he sighed miserably. ‘I’m as broke as broke getssss.’

Red-Head looked sceptical, but the other goon just rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t listen to him, he’s probably lying.’

‘I’m not a liarrrr,’ he spat, sloppily throwing a punch. His arms flailed wildly, but with enough strength they were knocked back.

‘Who is this kid?’ The man exclaimed, uppercutting Peter’s jaw. ‘Some sort of failed HYDRA weapon?’

‘You cannoooot be saying thaatt, what if Bucky was arouuunddd,’ Peter frowned, rubbing his sore chin, dropping his fist lazily.

‘Bucky? The Winter Soldier?’

‘Yeaaaahhh, I know himmm,’ he laughed humorlessly, gasping as the woman whacked him in the stomach. He folded over, kicking Green-Eyes in the shins and giggling as she slipped over.

‘Watch out, he might unleash a killer on us,’ Red-Head shuddered, folding his arms over his chest. Peter began to wander aimlessly backwards, further and further through crunchy glass and fuel till his feet hit the far brick wall.

‘What’s this kid gonna do now, though?’ Green-Eyes approached him again, tilting her head. ‘If the Winter Soldier tries to kill us, he’s like, brainwashed. He’ll kill the kid too.’

‘No he wooonnnn’tttt,’ Peter giggled, and to the goons’ horror, he continued to meander, his feet feeling for grip before he was suddenly vertical, and sticking there. ‘He doesn’t neeeed to.’

‘Holy shit, Carson, he’s a fucking mutant,’ Green-Eyes, felt for her pocket and pulled out a silver handgun. Peter watched as she fumbled to aim, his unpredictable footsteps up the wall throwing her off.

‘Can’t catch meeee,’ he threw his hands up, dodging a narrow bullet as it spun past his head. Red-Head, or Carson, pulled out his own pistol, and suddenly Peter was dancing across the wall, spinning and twirling past tiny pellets.

‘Jackie, he’s high as a kite.’

‘This should be easy, then,’ Jackie narrowed her emerald eyes, and Peter was entranced by her mystical pupils. Fascinated, he inched closer, crouching to get a better look, before a bullet pierced his forearm. Jackie and Carson waited for him to fall, but he just stood there, shrugging. His body was numb as numb could get, his brain hazy and not producing the pain that was supposed to be there, so he just waited for something else to happen.

Ignoring the two goons, he wandered further up the side of the building towards the moon. Maybe if he kept walking, he could steal the moon, or even just touch it with his fingers, and its space dust would leave residue on his fingers. He would tell Ned all about it, but Ned wasn’t here. Maybe if he called for his best friend, he’d come running. The wall seemed to go on forever, and he was so close to the sky, but not before it ended and he was upright again. He took a deep breath, his footsteps achingly close to the edge. The sky was empty, not with one star, and he wondered where all of them had gone, but not before he was wordlessly scooped up and taken into the air. Peter thrashed against the strange grip, enough of people just grabbing him, but gave up shortly as they took off. Maybe he was flying to the moon, and his consciousness was just playing with him.

It was not his consciousness, which he soon realised as he was dropped gently onto the grass beside three very familiar faces, and met with another as he spun around.

‘What am I doing with these loserrrrsss,’ Harley frowned, giving the boy a nasty glare before bursting into hysterical laughter.

‘Shut upppp, you know you can’t hate me anymoreeee,’ Peter stumbled back to earth, practically falling into Harley’s arms as blood unsuspectingly leaked from his body.

‘You punched me!’ the boy scowled, but subconsciously wrapped his arms around him. ‘And punched me, and punched me, and…oh! Choked me!’

‘And you triedddd to killl me, just like Mis’er Starrrk.’

Michelle looked up at Tony with an expression he’d wished he’d never seen. Purposely turning away from the girl, he peeled a sticky Peter off of the other boy. Disabling his suit, he took a good look at the boy’s wound. If he drove fast enough, it would be no trouble to fix. Blood seeped from the back of Peter’s shirt, so he assumed the bullet went all the way through. Either way, he found himself wrapping Michelle’s scarf around the hole with a promise—he’d wash it on cold with the same colours.

‘Now this thing is a two-seater but I don’t think there’s really any other option…’ Tony sighed miserably, taking a good look at the two teens. ‘Harley, get in next to the window. You’re both lucky I’m an excellent driver.’

‘If I find out Peter has been driven off a cliff,’ the teen’s scary friend hissed. ‘I won’t hesitate to call the police on you for whatever stunt you pulled with him the other day.’

He nodded sheepishly, squishing against the two teens in the car. He’d have to get someone to clean it after, not even if there were any blood or puke stains but just off vibes.

‘Bye MJ, bye Ted, don’t end up like these two!’ He reluctantly farewelled the teens. He revved the engine loudly, the sports car letting out a crackling growl before zipping off. No matter that he’d just showed off his car to a bunch of wasted teenagers, it was still fun seeing people jump out of their skins and turn their heads, if only for a second.

It was silent for a moment, except for the stark roar of the car as it zipped through the streets at a slightly less legal speed than he’d bargained for. They were about to reach Manhattan, its usually bustling streets less overrun by taxis and crackheads.

And then Peter moaned, loudly, and Tony had to physically restrain himself from throwing the two boys out the side of the speeding car. He kept his eyes directly forward, terrified of turning his head and accidentally getting a glimpse of whatever predicament he was about to find himself next to.

‘Harleyyyy…’ The teen let out another breathy sigh, so Tony skidded right in an attempt to stop whatever was happening beside him.

‘I’m right here, y’know, so no funny business,’ he huffed, his eyes glued to the road in front.

‘There isss no funny…fuck…businesssss, Mis’er Stark,’ the teen slurred harshly, interrupting himself with a whimper, and Tony didn’t have the heart to believe him.

‘That means you too, Keener,’ the billionaire scowled.

‘No promisessss, old mannn.’

Surprisingly, the two teens stopped, and for a second, they weren’t shuffling around. That was until Harley groaned, and Tony was prepared to throw them out of the side, except for the teen’s tone sounded considerably more concerned. ‘Shitttt, Peterrr, are you ‘kay?’

For the first time in the entire ride, Tony turned his head, ignoring the close proximity of Harley Keener to the other teen. However, Peter was kneeling over the boy, his head leaning outside of the car.

And then Peter’s head dropped to his chest. And then back out the side of the open car, and then his stomach seemed to follow.

-

The tower lights were too bright and too glary and Peter was certain he could still hear the party as they entered the elevator. He stumbled forward, clinging to the metal walls for dear life because his clones were staring at him from every angle and it was terrifying.

‘Mis’er Starkkk, use your suit to blast the clonesss,’ he begged, pointing at one in horror. Tony turned to the wall with a lot less urgency than he’d hoped, a sympathetic expression on his face.

‘Kid, there’s no clones,’ he assured him, but then Harley gasped loudly, ducking behind Peter.

‘Why’s there four of me?’ The boy exclaimed, shaking.

‘See, Mis’er Stark, Harley sees them too,’ Peter cried, attaching himself to Harley.

‘You’re both seeing things, that’s for sure,’ Tony sighed dramatically. ‘FRI, speed up the elevator.’

‘You got it, Boss,’ a magical woman spoke, and Peter was certain his guardian angels were back.

‘Guardian angel, save me from the clonessss,’ he whined, but to no avail, his guardian angel didn’t respond, so he rested his head in his hands, groaning loudly.

The elevator doors finally opened, and in a fit of fear, he made a run for it.

‘The clones, they’re after me!’ He exclaimed desperately, running out of the elevator and into the living room. The walls caved in on him, so he held his hands above his head, frantically dodging the ceiling as it got closer and closer.

-

Natasha had gotten drunk before. The whole team had. It had been a while, but it was certainly entertaining seeing grown superheroes stumble around like crazy people, a whirlwind of emotions surrounding them the more alcohol was consumed. What wasn’t entertaining was seeing Peter on the verge of tears, haphazardly sprinting like a madman towards the couch.

‘Please, take me back to May,’ he sobbed, curling up in the corner of the sofa, his mind still a hazy blur full of people throwing their guts up and people cheering.

‘Kid, you’re safe here and it’s too late to call her,’ Tony seemed to want to inch closer, resistant, but he stayed put.

‘You don’t want me here! Stop acting like my fucking dad,’ Peter wailed, dropping his head into his lap.

‘What does he mean by that?’ Nat tilted her head, inching a little closer to the drunk teenager but keeping her distance enough that she wouldn’t be the boy’s bucket if he decided to vomit up his feelings.

‘He kicked…hic…me out so I would never see him again,’ Peter choked out through a sob, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve.

From beside him, Steve shifted closer, a grimace appearing on his face.

‘Tony, you told us Peter was just spending less time at the lab,’ the super soldier looked up, frowning.

‘Jesus, Cap, you think I haven’t regretted every second of how I’ve treated Peter the past couple of months?’ Tony snapped, and even though Peter’s spider-sense wasn’t tingling, he still flinched violently, which the billionaire quickly and frantically apologised for. Sinking further into the couch, he let out a shaky breath and looked up, making eye contact with the man.

Peter shuddered, his body freezing. He’d practically absorbed the water given to him, sinking further into the couch and hoping the Avengers would stop staring at him. Why the hell were the Avengers staring at him?

‘I’m just like my father,’ Tony murmured, looking down at his feet.

There was a beat of silence before Steve spoke up.

‘You’re not like Howard,’ Steve murmured, looking down at his feet. ‘You’re better.’

And then there was another pause, and Tony didn’t know whether to open his mouth again or leave, because it wasn't as if he could cause any good being around the kid.

‘He’s right,’ Peter sniffed, wriggling across so the billionaire could sit. ‘You can be better.’

Taking a shaky, breath, Tony met the teen's glassy gaze. ‘God, I’ve messed up so bad, kid,’ he sighed deeply. ‘I missed you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

Peter smiled, hopefully a genuine smile (Tony couldn't be too sure, alcohol did have a weird effect), and rested his head on the man's chest. It warmed his shattered heart, bringing it back to life. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

And with that, Peter grinned again, gagged loudly, and threw up on the very expensive rug in front of the Avengers.

Chapter Text

Peter blinked, struggling for his eyes to adjust the flashy light. His brain was numb and foggy like it was stuffed with cotton, and he couldn’t recall anything from the last couple of hours, not even from the beginning of the party. He’d been so fucking comfortable waking up that the pounding in his head had disappeared slightly, because it was like he was resting on a bed of clouds, surrounded by warmth and sunniness and rainbows. Except for now, it was back. Another voice groaned, and he turned to look towards the sound. The sound was awfully close, but he didn’t have the heart, or the current ability, to move.

That’s when the heartbeat started. It was weird. He didn’t know pillows could sound like that, but maybe it was some new tech? His eyes fluttered open completely, but instead of his tiny unit room and scrawny twin bed like he’d envisioned, he was on the couch of the Avengers Compound living room, his body sprawled like a ragdoll. He shifted his head slowly, but then his heart leapt out of his throat.

His head was resting against Harley’s chest, the teen’s chest rising and falling steadily.

‘What the fuck?’ Peter sprung up, hungover be damned, jumping away from his position on the pull-out couch. Harley’s eyes widened, and he leapt away sheepishly.

‘Sorry, um, I don’t really know why I’m apologising, but,’ he rambled, seemingly confused. ‘I don’t remember falling asleep like this.’

‘I don't remember falling asleep at all,’ Peter groaned, pressing a hand to his throbbing head. Was he dying? His brain felt like it was spinning or tilting off its axis. ‘My head is gonna explode,’ he winced.

‘Are…you okay?’ Harley asked, for the first time sounding genuine.

‘I dunno,’ Peter answered weakly. ‘I’ve never had that much to drink before. Ever.’

‘You should’ve said something,’ the boy huffed. Peter wasn’t used to the teen’s sincerity, but for the moment, it was nice. However, his throbbing skull was just another reminder Peter wasn’t up for being nice back.

‘I don’t usually turn to you for help,’ he sneered, backing away from the boy.

‘Look, I was just trying to help, if you don’t want it then suit yourself,’ Harley shrugged miserably, running a hand through his tousled bed hair. Even when they were both insanely hungover, the southern teen still managed to look more-than decent. At least hotter than the crazy mess Peter probably looked.

‘I don’t want your help, okay?’ He snapped. ‘And I have a question. Why are you such an asshole?’

‘God, are you still drunk?’ The teen exclaimed snarkily, crossing his arms over his chest as bitterness laced itself back into his tone.

‘No, I’m just coming to my senses,’ Peter frowned, swallowing the electrifying pain in his skull. ‘Why do you choose to sit with Flash, when all he’s done is make my life miserable?’

‘He doesn’t even hurt you! What difference does it make?’ Harley scowled, and his sympathy disappeared just like Peter had predicted. Harley was so fucking predictable.

‘It doesn’t matter if he can’t physically hurt me like you can,’ Peter hissed, ‘but I’d rather not be degraded for being a nerd at a nerd’s school!’

‘Oh shut up, your life is not that hard,’ Harley groaned. ‘I don’t want to hear none of this. You’re the lucky one.’

‘What?’ Peter blinked at the ridiculous statement. ‘I, Peter Parker, am lucky?’

‘You’re the one people won’t stop mentioning. It’s always “Peter did this, he did that,” blah blah blah, well what about me for once?’

‘Maybe if you didn’t hang out with a bunch of assholes, you wouldn’t feel so miserable,’ Peter retorted, snorting.

‘I turned up in one of Tony’s cars. I had sunglasses, and tried to act like him, and everything!’ Harley exclaimed, his voice cracking. ‘But still, you were the one people cheered for. The one he compared you to.’

‘Yeah, because I was shitfaced! Not the thing I want to share in common with Iron Man, Harley!’

‘At least he wanted to help you, he just snapped at me!’

‘Because he’d had enough of me!’ He cried out, a sharp twinge of pain. ‘I was so wrecked I can’t remember anything from yesterday!’

‘Flash didn’t give a shit that I was wasted, but you had your two friends and goddamn Iron Man to help you.’

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Peter snapped. ‘Tony didn’t want to help me, he doesn’t want me around because I’m too much of a fucking mess that ruins his perfect little reputation.’

‘Yeah, what because you’re poor?’ Harley drawled thickly. ‘Newsflash, Peter, we’re all poor, and the rich eat people like us.’

‘You’re such a hypocrite!’

‘You don’t even know me,’ Harley narrowed his eyes, but his voice saddened.

Peter’s eyes widened. ‘You’re the poster boy for what he wants me to be. Popular? Smart? Strong?’

‘Strong? You better not be bullshitting right now,’ Harley let out a lackadaisical laugh. ‘Peter, you’re Spider-Man. Even though you pull your punches, they still hurt.’

‘Maybe it does hurt, but you start it first. What am I supposed to do, just let you beat me up?’

‘I didn’t know what to do, Flash was looking at me and then you asked for it,’ the southern teen looked down at his feet, hesitant to respond.

‘How was I supposed to know you were going to actually do it? God, you don’t even know who I am.’ Peter gaped, almost stifling a laugh. It was almost embarrassing how much Harley didn’t know.

‘I think I know enough.’

Swallowing the humourless laugh that threatened Peter’s throat, he opened his mouth. ‘Did you know I saw my uncle get killed? And both of my parents, they’re dead too.’

There was a pause, and they both stared at each other, unsure of what to say next.

Then Harley spoke up in a different tone. ‘It was super hot.’

‘What?’ Peter stared at him, eyes wide as he tried desperately to process the sentences that ran through his brain. He said what?

‘When you wanted me to punch you,’ he grinned sheepishly. ‘There was blood dripping down your face, and shit, you had this crazy smile like you were about to eat me alive…God, how the hell was I supposed to not listen to you.’

Oh.

Oh.

‘I don’t want to hurt that pretty face of yours,’ he’d said.

Peter had blown it off as just some comment to get under his skin. A distraction, to throw him off his game.

‘Do not tell me you have a fucking crush on me, especially after I just revealed my sob story to you,’ he laughed nervously, furiously blinking just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, because if he was, this would’ve been a really messed up dream.

‘What would you do if I said I did,’ Harley tilted his head quizzically.

Taking a shaky breath, Peter met the teen’s eyes. ‘I already knew.’

‘What the fuck,’ Harley gaped, and Peter relished in the boy’s confusion. ‘What the fuck?’

‘Your twitter, Keen4potatoes,’ a small smile appeared on his face, folding his arms over his chest. ‘It didn’t take that long to find.’

Harley stood stiffly for a couple of seconds, clearly unsure of what to say. There was a silence that stretched on for too long, and it took a whole lot of guts for either of them to not speak for so long. Of course, Peter would be the first to break it.

‘Oh my god…you were attracted to me…this whole time!’ Peter doubled over, inhaling sharply as he struggled to get in a breath. ‘Is that why…is that why you called me darling?’

Harley tried to suppress his laugh but it was no use.

‘You were flirting with me,’ Peter was practically shaking with laughter by now.

‘What the fuck,’ Tony blinked, struggling to comprehend the situation. Both his teens were in their own world, clinging to each other as they collapsed in a fit of laughter. They both looked up, still inhaling to catch a breath of air. He’d just witnessed the pair yell at each other with ridiculous insults, have a brief realization over twitter, and then now they couldn’t stop laughing. If any normal person were to walk into this, they wouldn’t believe the teens had almost killed each other only a couple of weeks previous.

‘Oh my gosh, Mr Stark, you’re never gonna believe this,’ Peter wiped a tear from his face, still shaking enthusiastically as if he hadn’t severely cursed out both Tony and Harley on multiple occasions.

Harley reached out, swatting for the pain-killers in his own grasp. ‘Give me whatever super-soldier painkillers he gets, old man,’ he grinned, slightly delirious. ‘Trust me, I can take it.’

‘Nuh uh, no way, not under my watch,’ Tony forced regular ibuprofen into the palm of the southern teen’s hand, frowning slightly. Harley hadn't yet made up for his actions, and Tony was still on edge from his mistakes, but the most important part of growth was forgiveness, even if it kind of killed him. The blonde would never change if his change wasn't acknowledged. Tony threw the other box over his head towards Peter. It hit the boy’s shoulder, and he looked up, pausing to groan through a fit of giggles. ‘When will people ever stop throwing things at me?’

‘I said to take an example from me,’ Tony spoke briefly, realising he’d have to dig deep into a past he was ashamed of. ‘I didn’t mean to take an example from when I used to get wasted every night.’

‘Uh, yeah, sorry about that,’ Peter lowered his head, the memory of last night’s post party encounter steadying in his head.

‘And also please don’t be making out with people left and right.’

Peter’s head snapped up fast enough to give him whiplash. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Do you not remember the car…oh nevermind, you two were too drunk to even have an idea of the ride home…’ Tony grimaced, already concocting ideas of how to bleach visions in his mind.

‘Why don’t you describe it to us,’ the brunette grinned menacingly.

‘Oh, you little…’

‘You said it yourself, you’ve had an interesting past. What makes this any worse than what you’ve done?’

‘Because I’ve done it, not said it out loud,’ the billionaire seethed through gritted teeth.

‘Well it’s always good to try something new,’ Peter shrugged a little too enthusiastically, because Tony shot him a furious glare.

‘Whatever happened that night is between me and the minds of two drunk teens that will never see the light of day.’

‘Sounds good to me, FRIDAY, bring up footage from the car that night,’ Peter snickered.

Safe to say, the teens had doubled over in violent laughter in a matter of seconds.

‘So can you make me that AI?’

‘Harley!’

Chapter Text

3 months later

The presentation day came around soon enough, but the two had knuckled down and completed it at double the speed they’d worked before, minus the impromptu makeout sessions when Tony left for a meeting. They weren’t officially dating, because it had taken a while for Harley to fully apologise and learn not to be such an ass ninety-percent of the time, but Peter was slowly opening up from his shell and turns out Harley wasn’t as obnoxious as he thought, at least not towards him anymore. He couldn’t say the same about Flash though, who had his computer mysteriously smashed during decathlon practice.

‘God, you look so hot when you’re in that suit,’ Harley groaned, rolling his eyes as the two jogged down Midtown’s extensive hallway.

‘And you look like an ass. Hurry up!’

‘I’m too busy looking at New York’s Ass.’

‘If you don’t shut up, I’ll tell Mr Stark you’re bullying me again and he’ll make you do more chemical disposal for the interns,’ Peter snickered, from the front.

Harley flicked the teen’s forearm fondly, faking a scowl. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Oh, we both know I would.’

Harley stepped up to the board alone, connecting his computer in silence as looming eyes followed his every move. Those were the perks of his popularity. Even if he’d ditched Flash and his group of dickheads for the love of his life, it’s not as if people preferred some social media wannabe over someone who knew Tony Stark personally. If anything, it was an upgrade from his old life, because he wasn’t a loser anymore, but his “power” came from just being friendly with people and not just having superiority. Plus he had someone so godlike so close to him. That was definitely the highlight, because Peter was hot, smart, and kind. What kind of world was he living in now where he’d gotten so lucky yet deserved none of it?

Peter should’ve hated him for longer. He should’ve despised him, gagging at the thought of his name. But of course the teen had a fucking heart of gold and still saw the good in Harley, even after he’d been put through so much. Harley didn’t know what he’d done to be able to be on good terms with Peter, but he thanked God every single night for it.

‘What did you make, Harley? And where’s Peter?’ Mr Harrington frowned, arching a brow.

‘Right here,’ a voice escaped from the figure that entered the door, a blur of red and blue armor flying through the open door. The faceplate flipped up, a grinning Peter Parker waving to his friends from the front of the class. ‘Oh yeah, um, this is Mark LXXXVI,’ the boy rambled on, smiling sheepishly.

Mr Harrington blinked, raising his glasses. ‘You made a replica of the Iron Man suit?’

‘Yep,’ Peter grinned, and he looked absolutely ecstatic about it. ‘Real weapons and everything.’

Silently, he lifted up his gloved hand, energy visibly surging from its core. Then, a hot flash split through the window, so fast if you blinked, you would've missed it. Luckily, Mr Harrington didn’t.

‘Um, well, how have you improved it?’ The teacher choked out, awestruck. Harley smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘As our gorgeous model has just shown, we have rebuilt the Iron Man suit except with extra powers, more convenience and frankly, a better colour scheme too.’

Tapping an icon on Peter’s forearms, four appendages spiked out from his spine and glimmered menacingly, sharp enough to spear through someone as easily as one could spread butter. A couple of their classmates flinched, but Harley’s eyes were dead on Eugene, relishing in the way the boy writhed as Peter stood in his weaponized suit. They both knew that if provoked, Peter could do a lot more than just punch someone now.

‘With Peter’s command, the suit can fold down to nothing.’

‘Isn’t that just Stark’s nanosuit?’ Flash interjected, and Harley’s chest clenched. It was probably a good thing that he wasn’t the one in the suit, because otherwise there would be a casualty or two. Eugene Thompson had manipulated him, he’d manipulated Peter, and he had to face the consequences.

‘Nope, we don’t have a hole in our chests so it works a little differently,’ Peter answered the question after noticing Harley was staring stiffly at the teen.

‘PRIME, deactivate,’ Peter murmured, holding his arms up as far as they’d go, and the class watched in awe as the suit folded down into a watch, the nanotech disappearing as the boy was left in his motor oil-stained tank top.

‘PRIME, or Powered-Reactive-Integrated-Modular-Exosuit, is the suit’s personal AI.’

‘You made it?’ Harley was giddy with joy, clasping his hands like a little kid.

‘Yup,’ the boy grinned. ‘Fully functional like Karen.’

Harley swooned a little, and then the teen unintentionally flexed his bicep in his attempt to stretch out his arm, multiple students gasping in shock from the confusing sight.

‘Peter,’ he began, snickering.

‘What?’ Peter blinked, the suit folding into the wristwatch as he lowered his arms.

‘Your classmates have just realised how jacked you are.’

He flushed red, and all Harley wanted to do was bite his fucking arm where the bicep bulged. That was for another time though, even if it was tempting. Peter lowered his arms frantically, pursing his lips as Ned and MJ exchanged a gleeful grin.

‘Well, that was very impressive, Peter and Harley,’ Mr Harrington began to clap, followed by the rest of the students (except for Flash).

Once they sat down, Harley turned to the boy seriously.

‘Give me the suit,’ he spoke bluntly, his tone icy.

‘Harley, what the fuck?’ Peter arched a brow, a shocked laugh escaping his throat.

‘I need to talk to Eugene.’

‘I’m not giving you the suit to beat up Flash,’ Peter sighed dramatically, dodging Harley’s attempt at swiping the watch from his wrist.

‘Fine, but if I have blood on my hands, you know why.’

One month after that

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

@thanallofyou im dating him now

i’m better @thanallofyou

is he a dilf????

yeehaw mf @keen4potatoes

oh u wouldnt even know

Two more weeks after that

Peter was in his bed when his room started jolting. At first, it was a low, growling hum, but then it escalated and he was flung out from under his comforter. Groaning at the unfriendly wakeup call, he tried his best to attach himself to the ceiling but to no avail, his arms and legs flailing miserably. Cursing colourfully, he scrambled off his seizing mattress, tumbling onto the floor with a scowl. His eyes widened, and there was a humongous wave of sound. His body smashed into the wall, flinching as his eyes flickered to the scene outside. Shock waves rippled through the walls, leaving his stuff scattered messily on the floor.

‘What the fuck,’ he muttered, making a beeline for his webshooters that had bounced underneath his bed. As he managed to crawl below the frame, the glowing device caught his eye and he let out an exhausted moan. Scrambling for the shockwave weapon that he definitely hadn’t forgotten about, he called out to his AI.

‘Karen, call Tony and tell him there’s been an…issue.’

His fucking Parker Luck.