Work Text:
Peter sits on the bathroom counter.
His legs swinging gently, heels tapping the cabinet in a soft, uneven rhythm. Steam curls along the mirror behind him, leaving the room hazy and soft. A towel rests on his shoulders, damp where it clings to his neck. His hair is a mess of curls, sticking up in every direction. He blinks slow and heavy, letting the quiet of the moment settle over him.
Harley stands in front of him, gently towel drying Peter’s hair. The cloth moves through his curls with soft, careful motions, smoothing and ruffling again and again.
"You always look like a baby bird after a shower," Harley murmurs, smiling.
Peter lets out a breath, equal parts amused and too tired to respond properly. "That’s a compliment?"
"Mhm," Harley says, grinning faintly. "Cutest one I’ve ever seen."
Peter huffs, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He tilts his head down, not hiding exactly, just settling into the comfort of it all. Harley’s hands, the towel, the moment. Like it’s all wrapping around him at once in a little pocket of safety.
Harley keeps drying Peter’s hair, slow and gentle, the rhythm meant to soothe them both. His fingers brush along the back of Peter’s neck, curling into the damp curls. The bathroom is quiet, save for the soft rustle of cotton and the occasional drip from the shower.
"You smell good," Harley says after a moment, voice low so it doesn’t break the quiet. "Like soap and warmth. Like sleep."
Peter doesn’t look up. "You’re weird," he mumbles, soft and affectionate. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he presses his forehead to Harley’s shoulder. "Don’t stop."
"I won’t," Harley whispers, keeping one hand steady in Peter’s curls. "I’ve got you."
And he does.