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“Is there any actual way we can open these doors without them sounding like Tony’s snores?” Harley asked, plopping his feet on the ground and springing off the bed with a jump.
Peter looked up from his phone, getting up from his beanbag and stretching. His reply came out with a yawn, “Duh, you’re talking to the prank master,” He made his way to where Harley was now hovering over the doorhandle, eyes squinted while he jigged the knob.
Peter shooed his brother away and replaced the hand on the doorhandle, his other hand coming to rest on wood. It was interesting how Tony made the door design, with it looking like wood from the outside but actually having metal in it. Most of it was metal that stayed solidly in the middle between the two other layers, which were acoustic foam and wood. It’s a simple idea, yeah, but when you have vibranium being the metal—which makes it less prone to fists flying through it—the soundproofing works wonders. That is, until you reach the doorknob. It was a regular knob, which meant it announced when it was being used.
He slowly pushed his hand against the door little by little as his other pulled down on the handle, putting pressure on it as he opened it just enough for a body to slide through before slowly taking his hands off.
“See?” A wide grin was on his face as he turned to Harley, who had his arms crossed with a questionable expression.
“Can’t you, like, shrink into a spider or something?” He asked, looking Peter up and down like he knew more about his brother's powers.
“What?! No. I’m not Ant-Man, dude.” Peter shrieked. He rolled his eyes at the very obvious unconvinced stare and pushed his way out the room, ignoring the soft pattering of footsteps behind him.
“Are you sure?”
Skittering to a stop, he pulled out a can of soda from the fridge and very aggressively opened it, turning to glare at the other before sitting on one of the chairs at the island. Harley followed suit, sitting across from him.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He answered, watching Harley’s jaw unclench before interrupting what stupid thing he was going to ask next, “I’ve tried to talk to spiders once, kinda worked, maybe it comes with age.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his Fanta.
His brother's eyes practically lit up with amusement, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Are you serious?” His elbows clinked against the table as he crossed them over each other, leaning in like this was the most interesting thing ever.
“Dead.” Peter smirked, and hey, he wasn’t lying. Though he might be delusional because he wasn’t actually sure if the spider intentionally came a few steps closer to him when he asked, or if it was a dumb coincidence. “Do I have to tell you everything about what I can do or what? Because I’m getting the feeling you’ve just secretly wanted a spider your entire life.”
Harley hummed, zoning on Peter’s face before his face fell in relaxation. “Spiders are alright, the jumping ones always seemed cute to me—do you know what spider is in your DNA?”
And here the next spider question came, although it wasn’t that dumb this time. Ever since the pair were introduced earlier this month, brothers since introduction, Harley has had a particular interest in getting to know Peter’s spider identity.
“Now that’s what I’m pissed about, since Oscorp bred their spiders, there’s a bunch of spider DNA to dig through. I have a lot of different traits, but y’know, getting bit was a one time thing, so I haven’t really bothered to look into it.” He answered, eyes floating to the entrance of the living room.
“Quite irresponsible, if you ask me,” Tony’s voice echoed from the couch, followed by a groan and popping joints.
Harley swiveled around in his chair, back leaning against the counter as he narrowed his eyes at the man. “Coming from you? How bold.” He said before turning back around to face Peter, his mouth twitching with a smile as he added, “But yeah, a responsible person would check what spider bit them. Dumb move, Parker.”
Peter groaned, pulling his hands down his face. “I don’t need two people scolding me right now.”
“Ew, gross, don’t do that.” Tony made a show of avoiding looking at Peter’s face as he rounded the island, opening the cabinet and plucking a small bag of chips out from the neatly organized cubbies. Pepper liked everything organized.
Leaving his hands to continue pulling down on his lower eyelids, he turned his head to face his mentor. He could feel how ugly he must’ve looked by the huge grin on his face. “And, like, can’t we just figure that out now?”
Harley piped up, ignoring Peter. “Oh, yeah! I can’t wait to see the results.”
Tony grimaced as he walked back to the couch, shaking his head like the disapproving old man he is. Morgan was soundly asleep sprawled out on the cushions, hair caught in the drool leaking from her mouth. Tony gently picked up her head and laid it on a pillow before sitting on a recliner by the window, full view of everyone from his seat.
“You look like a supervillain,” Harley crinkled his nose, probably imagining what the world would be like to have Tony Stark as a villain instead of a superhero.
Peter leaned over the island to punch his shoulder lightly, gaining the others' attention. The straining it took not to smile was horrible. “Don’t say that! You might set him off!” He loudly whispered, looking worriedly between Tony and Harley.
Harley furrowed his brows, lips pursed like he ate something sour. He was staring right into his eyes, which were practically touching him because they were so close.
Tony had a hand over his mouth, his eyes shining with the light from outside, framing his body. Peter could see the wrinkles in them, in every corner of his face, and the obnoxious affection lacing each part of his body.
There was a snort, and then everyone was laughing. Peter put his head down, forehead resting against the table, body trembling. Harley put his hand on Peter’s shoulder to steady himself, wheezing as he inched closer to his brother as if he’d give him back all the air he was currently wasting on laughter. Tony was chuckling, watching his volume because of a certain 5 year old, but he was okay with that.
He was happy watching two of his kids die with laughter in front of him.
Peter quietly opened the door, his footsteps practically nonexistent as he walked into his parents bedroom. When there wasn’t any following behind him he turned around, exasperatedly throwing his hands out at his brother who was standing before the doorframe.
“What are you doing?” He asked in a whisper, walking back to grab the phone that was retrieved from Harley’s pocket.
Harley pointed up to the ceiling. Grabbing the shaving cream and feather in separate hands, he rolled his eyes at the unmoving figure in front of him and stepped forward. “You can climb. Record this crap so it looks like HD.”
Sighing, Peter jumped up and connected with the ceiling. One hand was holding him up as he swung his feet to connect to the wall, and then he was right on top of the couples bed, his body practically dangling as only his feet held him down—or is that up?
Looking to Tony’s side as he angled the camera, Harley was staring at him with wide eyes and a crazy lopsided smile. Peter returned his own, looking at the sleeping beauty in front of him through the lens.
Once he sent a thumbs up, Harley started slowly dispersing shaving cream into Tony’s hand. Once he was done, the feather got whipped out from his pocket and began prodding at his face.
Their victim's face twitched once before his hand came up to scratch his cheek. Peter tried his best not to squeal with fear and joy. Harley outright huffed with a laugh.
SPLAT, came the sound, and a disgusted groan made them sprint out of the room, both giggling as the pair sat up in shock.
“What the hell?!”