Chapter Text
There weren’t very many certainties in Harley’s life, but there was one; that Harley Keener hated Peter’s guts.
Peter Parker, Tony Stark’s annoying, suck-up prodigy who just so happened to be in all of Harley’s classes. Harley had had enough of him one-upping him in the classroom, let alone in Tony’s lab. It had gotten to the point where every time he saw Peter, he’d just turn around and walk away.
And Peter didn’t even have the decency to hate him back. Whenever he did catch a glimpse, Peter would be smiling with that stupidly nice and cute smile of his.
It was infuriating.
So, when Harley had heard of a party that some random senior he hardly knew was throwing, he knew that perfect Peter wouldn’t be there. A nice break from seeing him absolutely everywhere.
He was ready to get shitfaced and wake up the next morning remembering nothing and only having a blinding headache to remind him of what had happened the night before.
He pulled up outside the house, and could already smell the bad choices being made.
He felt his muscles loosen for the first time in what had to have been weeks.
He walked inside and there had to be at least 30 people bustling around. The lights were low apart from the strobing LEDs, and the music was loud and trashy.
His kind of party.
Once he caught sight of a keg, he beelined for it, making reluctant small talk with the drunk teen hovering it like it was his child.
He didn’t come to socialize, he came to get drunk without Tony finding out.
He collapsed into a brown couch that was adorned with two teens who seemed to be forgetting that they weren’t alone. He didn’t care, he had beer and that was all that mattered.
He looked up and thought he saw Peter, but when he checked again the face was gone.
God, he needed to get out of that damn tower.
He was sitting idly on the couch for about ten minutes before he noticed a classmate he actually liked.
“Harley!” Ethan from his social studies and english classes called, “What are you doing here?”
Harley stood and walked a little closer to him. “Getting my average dose of alcohol, what about you? Weren’t you complaining about homework earlier?”
“Yeah, well, this is much better than homework.”
“Fair enough,” He smiled.
They both raised their cups, and Harley swigged back the last of his beer, and parted ways with Ethan to refill his cup.
The keg was being hogged by that same guy from earlier, so Harley just leaned up against the wall waiting his turn.
When all of a sudden-
He heard something.
Something coming from behind the door to his right.
He pressed up real close to hear it better over the loud music, and that’s when he heard it.
“Please, stop.”
The voice was familiar. Scarily familiar.
It was Peter. He’d heard enough of his voice lately that he immediately recognized it.
He heard muffled thumps and wordless noises and didn’t waste another second. He set his empty cup down - or maybe just fully threw it to the ground - and tried to open the door.
It was locked.
“Peter?” He asked loudly, pounding on the door, “Is that you?”
No answer.
He tried the knob again with no luck.
He needed to get in there. Something wasn’t right.
He tried multiple times to break in, throwing his shoulder up against the door.
The door still didn’t open.
Finally, worn out of patience, he kicked the door.
Nothing.
He tried again and the door busted open.
His stomach sank.
He saw Peter sprawled against a bed, and some guy - who had to be a few years older than them - straddled on top of him.
Peter was crying, both of his arms pinned down.
When he saw Harley, his eyes widened - something akin to relief and humiliation at the same time.
The guy’s head turned to Harley, and his eyebrows pinched down.
“Get out, freak!” He yelled.
Harley’s blood boiled.
Harley slammed the door shut - as close as it could be, given that he did sort of break it - and beelined for the guy in two long strides.
He grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him off of Peter. The guy sprawled on the ground and stuffed himself back in his pants.
“What’s your problem, dude?” He asked hysterically.
“My problem?” Harley seethed, and hardly thought before he was on top of him, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”
Harley was holding him by the collar, and the man’s eyes were filled to the brim with horror.
It wasn’t enough.
“You fucking pervert,” He growled, and before he could even think to stop himself, he punched him in the face.
Numbness spread from his hands up to his chest as he pummeled the man’s face in.
He hadn’t made someone bleed like that since he lived in Tennessee.
The man was unconscious by the time Harley was done with him.
He wiped his blood-soaked knuckles off on the guy’s shirt.
And he turned to Peter. He was still on the bed, now sitting up, eyes wild, glassy and unfocused, breathing far from controlled.
He walked over to Peter slowly.
“Hey,” He’d never spoken to Peter voluntarily, especially not in this cautious, sweet voice he didn’t even know he had, “Hey, it’s okay.”
Peter looked up to him, pupils dilated.
Harley very carefully sat next to him on the bed, hands up defensively.
Peter didn’t move a muscle, eyes tracking his every movement.
“Hey, Peter,” He started, not knowing what to say at all, “You’re safe, okay? He’s not gonna hurt you anymore.”
Peter was swaying, and Harley knew something else was afoot.
“Hey, Pete, did he give you anything?” He asked, trying hard and failing to conceal his concern.
Peter looked up at him, and something in Harley’s chest broke. He looked so young and small.
He didn’t answer. It seemed like the question was still processing in his head.
He was definitely drugged.
“I’m gonna call Tony-”
“No,” He slurred, “Please, don’t.”
“Okay,” He said, “Okay, that’s okay, I won’t. Let’s just go to the tower, you can shower and sleep.”
Harley was waiting tentatively for an answer, when Peter just surged forward and wrapped around Harley.
If you’d’ve told him yesterday that Parker was going to hug him, he’d probably throw up.
But now he couldn’t help but hug him back tightly. Maybe it was the alcohol.
But he couldn’t let go. Peter sobbed body racking sobs into Harley’s shoulder, and Harley just held him.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” He said quietly, thoughtlessly running his hand through his curls, “I’m here, you’re okay.”
“Thank you,” Peter warbled in a small, broken voice.
“Of course, Parker.”
Harley helped him up, and guided him out.
He glared at anyone who looked at Peter sideways, and walked him to his truck.
About a few feet before it, Peter keeled over and threw up in the lawn.
Harley held him and rubbed his back, thinking about how happy he was that he threw up before he climbed into his passenger seat.
Harley helped Peter up into the vehicle and hopped into the driver’s seat.
He looked over at Peter, whose pupils already seemed to be shrinking down to a regular size, and Harley felt so relieved.
He tried to keep his head straight and not dwell on that creep’s face while he was driving.
Or the way Peter looked so scared.
Or the way Peter hugged him like he trusted him.
“I’m sorry,” A still-slurred voice said, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“What?” Harley looked at him, “Sorry for what?”
Peter was quiet for a moment.
“For all of it.” He said, tears threatening to fall.
“Hey,” Harley said, really looking at him in the red light, “Hey, that was not your fault, and you have nothing to be sorry for.”
Peter just looked far out the window, like he still wasn’t in the moment.
It frankly scared Harley.
He’d never seen Peter so messed up.
He wished he could’ve killed that guy.
Maybe after he got Peter back safely at the tower, he could go back for round two.
What kind of person could take advantage of someone? Especially when that someone was Peter?
“Hey,” Peter said.
“What?” Harley immediately asked.
“You’re thinking too loud.”
Harley couldn’t help but smirk at that.
“Shut up,” He grinned.
Peter grinned, too.
Harley treasured it deeply.
Before long, they pulled into the parking garage under the tower.
Harley jumped out and helped guide Peter to the elevator, not letting him leave his side until they got to his and Peter’s floor.
He pushed into Peter’s room and put him down on the bed. Harley took the liberty of looking through his closet for clothes.
He set down pyjama pants and a hoodie that Peter definitely stole from Tony.
“You can shower if you want,” He said, “...Do you need anything? Water? Food?”
“No, I just-” He cut himself off, looking up to Harley with glossy eyes, “Could you stay?”
Obviously, he would. He could not leave him like this. Did Peter really think he would leave him alone?
“Of course,” He smiled.
Peter grabbed the clothes and went to the washroom.
Harley sat down on his desk chair and waited.
He looked around at Peter’s stuff. Homework, weird tech, books; typical nerd stuff.
Of course.
His room was kinda… A mess.
Clothes on the floor, books flowing out of his backpack.
He had a normal person’s room.
He heard broken sobs coming from the bathroom, muffled by the shower.
He spun on the chair, to face the bathroom, and noticed something on the bed.
A stuffed animal.
It was the cutest thing ever, and not even because it was a little bunny, but because Peter actually owned it and kept it on his bed.
Suddenly, Peter seemed less intimidating. Not that Harley was intimidated by him or anything, but he seemed more like a regular person, and not an insufferable nerd.
A few minutes passed before the shower turned off.
A few more minutes until the door opened, and a Peter with wet hair and red, puffy eyes came out.
Harley spun to face him better.
Peter threw his wet towel on the ground near the closet.
“Not gonna put that in the hamper?”
“Nah, too far.” Peter said, collapsing onto the bed.
Harley smiled.
“...Thank you,” He said again.
“Stop saying that,” Harley said.
“No, seriously,” He insisted, looking at him briefly before his gaze went back to the neon stars on the ceiling, “For driving me back, and…” He trailed off. “It means a lot, especially because I know you don’t like me.”
“What?”
“Don’t even,” He scoffed, “It’s not like you were hiding it.”
“Fair,” Harley said defeated, “But not anymore.”
Peter looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Because now I know you keep a stuffed bunny on your bed.”
Peter’s face flushed. “Shut up.” He smiled sheepishly.
“No, I won’t,” Harley doubled down, pointing, “Because that is adorable.”
Peter threw a pillow at him, which Harley easily caught, laughing.
“But, seriously,” Harley went on.
Peter tensed.
“...What’s his name?”
Peter groaned, covering his face in his hands.
Harley laughed. He was so happy Peter was smiling.
“...You should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, probably.” Peter sighed.
There was a moment of silence, before Peter broke it.
“Do you think you could stay?” He asked in a quiet voice, “Just until I fall asleep?”
“‘Course,” Harley smiled.
Peter continued to stare at the little plastic stars above him and it only took a few minutes before he passed out. Harley wondered how much the drugs had to do with that.
He couldn’t believe any of this happened to Peter. It wasn’t fair.
Harley stayed longer after he fell asleep, just watching Peter.
He looked so precious in his sleep. It wouldn’t hurt to stay longer, just to make sure Peter was okay.
So he did.