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urdreamydoodles · 1 month ago

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MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS X FEM!READER

Your lover learns that you are a mutant, and decides to act against the world that hates your kind

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Bullseye, Marc Spector, Taskmaster, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Muse, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

- Peter had always known there was something different about you. It wasn��t the kind of different that made his Spider-Sense tingle, nor was it something he could quite put his finger on. It was in the way you carried yourself, the way your eyes flickered with an unspoken sadness when the news blared stories of mutant riots, the way you tensed when someone spat out the word like it was venom on their tongue. But he never pushed—he knew what it was like to have secrets, to cradle them close like fragile things that could shatter in the wrong hands.

- But when you finally told him, when you stood before him with your hands trembling and your voice barely above a whisper, Peter felt his heart break for you. Not because you were a mutant—God, no—but because you had lived your whole life expecting rejection, even from him. His first instinct was to pull you into his arms, to wrap you in the warmth of his love, to whisper against your hair, "You could never be anything but perfect to me." And when he pulled back, cupping your face in his calloused hands, he met your gaze with unwavering devotion. "I'm so sorry the world made you feel like you had to hide from me."

- From that moment, Peter became your fiercest protector—not that you needed protecting, but love made him reckless. He confronted every slur, every cruel whisper, every venom-laced comment spat your way. When J. Jonah Jameson ran another anti-mutant headline in the Daily Bugle, Peter slammed the paper down on his desk and walked out, his voice shaking with rage. When a man sneered at you on the subway, Peter’s hand found yours, fingers threading together as he stared the man down until he looked away.

- But it wasn’t just anger that drove him—it was justice. He swung through the city, stopping hate crimes against mutants with the same ferocity he used against criminals. He used his platform, his voice, his every breath to push back against the tide of bigotry. "You think mutants are dangerous? Maybe you should look in the mirror." And when people asked why he cared so much, why Spider-Man fought so hard for them, he would simply smile under his mask and say, "Because someone I love is one of them. And I’ll be damned if I let the world treat them like anything less than extraordinary."

- At night, when the world was quiet, Peter would hold you like you were something sacred, tracing the lines of your hands with his fingertips, memorizing you like poetry. "You know, the only thing that ever scared me about you being a mutant," he would whisper against your temple, "is the thought that you'd ever think I could love you any less because of it." And then he would kiss you—soft, reverent, as if every heartbeat between you was a promise.

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

- Tony had always been a man of logic, of science, of equations that made sense and theories that could be proven. But love was neither logical nor quantifiable, and when it came to you, he was hopelessly tangled in the chaos of it. He had seen the way you hesitated when mutant protests flashed across the screen, the way your fingers curled into your palms when politicians spoke of registration, control, fear. He had seen it, but he had never asked. He had always figured that if you wanted to tell him, you would.

- And then, one night, you did. The confession spilled from your lips like something fragile and broken, years of pain woven between every syllable. You had expected disgust, anger, maybe even that cold indifference the world had always shown you. But Tony Stark was not the world. He was Tony Stark, and he laughed—actually laughed—before pulling you into his arms. "Sweetheart," he murmured against your hair, "did you really think I'd care? You could have told me you were an alien princess from the Andromeda Galaxy, and it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing."

- But beneath the bravado, beneath the charm, there was fury—cold and sharp, pressing against his ribs like a blade. How dare the world make you feel this way? How dare they make you hide, make you think that love was something that came with conditions? The next time a senator spewed anti-mutant rhetoric at a gala, Tony took a long sip of his whiskey, smiled that sharp, wolfish smile, and said, "Funny, I was just thinking how the world would be a better place if we registered bigots instead."

- And then there were the grand gestures—because Tony Stark didn’t do things halfway. He poured billions into mutant advocacy programs, bought out entire networks to air pro-mutant campaigns, stood before the world in a press conference and said, "I’ve seen the future, and let me tell you—it’s not built on hate. It’s built on evolution, on progress, on people who are stronger than you could ever hope to be." And when people asked him why, when reporters pried for answers, he only ever said, "Because someone I love deserves better."

- In the quiet of the workshop, with only the hum of machinery and the glow of arc reactors around you, Tony would pull you onto his lap, pressing his lips against your temple. "You know," he murmured, "mutant, human, robot—whatever you are, you’re mine. And that’s the only thing that matters."

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

- Steve had fought wars—on battlefields, in back alleys, in the hearts and minds of the people. He had seen the worst of humanity, had watched hatred take root and grow like a disease. And yet, nothing prepared him for the way his heart ached when you finally told him the truth. It wasn’t anger, wasn’t disappointment—just a slow, dawning grief, not because you were a mutant, but because you had been afraid to tell him. "I fought against people like that," he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "People who thought they had the right to decide who was worthy of freedom. I won’t let them do that to you."

- From that day on, Steve became your shield in more ways than one. Not just in battle, but in life. He corrected people when they spoke with ignorance, stood in front of you when the world turned cruel. And when someone had the audacity to say, "But Captain, they’re a mutant—aren’t you afraid?" he would square his shoulders, fix them with that unshakable gaze, and say, "Afraid? Of someone stronger, braver, and better than you? Not in a million years."

- He marched in mutant rallies, stood before congressmen and looked them in the eye when they tried to push their agendas of fear. "I fought a war to stop people like you," he told them, voice steady, unwavering. "And I’ll fight another if I have to." His words spread like wildfire, his name became a beacon. If Captain America stood with mutants, then maybe—just maybe—the world would listen.

- But for all the battles he fought, for all the speeches and protests, what mattered most was how he loved you. In the early mornings, when the sun painted your skin in gold, he would trace slow, reverent lines along your arms, pressing kisses to every inch of you. "You are everything they’re afraid of," he murmured against your lips. "And that makes you extraordinary."

- And when the world felt too heavy, when the weight of their hatred threatened to drown you, Steve would hold you close, forehead pressed to yours, his voice a quiet vow. "They’ll never take this from us," he swore. "Not while I’m standing."

Thor

- Thor had seen many things across the realms—gods and monsters, heroes and villains, beings of power and light and darkness. But when you told him, when you stood before him with your heart in your hands, his reaction was as simple as the man himself. He laughed—a deep, joyous sound that shook the very walls—and swept you into his arms. "You think I would love you less for being different?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your brow. "My love, I am a god from another world. It is you who should look upon me with suspicion!"

- But beneath his laughter was rage—not at you, never at you—but at the world that had made you feel unworthy. He could not understand it, this Midgardian hatred for those who were different. On Asgard, power was revered, bloodlines celebrated. But here, on this fragile little world, fear turned to violence. And Thor had never been one to stand idly by in the face of injustice.

- When he heard men speak against mutants, he did not argue—he roared. His voice thundered through the halls of their governments, shaking the foundations of their hate. "You would condemn those who are stronger than you?" he bellowed. "Then I ask you—would you dare call ME an abomination?" And when they faltered, when they could not meet his gaze, he would smirk and say, "That is what I thought."

- But it was in the quiet moments that his love shone brightest. When he held you beneath the stars, his fingers tracing constellations against your skin. "You are power, you are fire, you are the storm itself," he whispered. "Let them fear you. Let them tremble. But know this, my love—I will stand beside you, always."

- And if the world would not change, if it refused to see the beauty in you, then Thor Odinson would remind them why the gods were to be feared.

Loki

- Loki had always known. He had known from the moment he first looked into your eyes, from the way you flinched at whispered slurs, the way your breath hitched when the world spoke of your kind like a disease. He knew, because he was the same. Always other, always different, always a thing to be feared rather than loved. So when you told him, when the words finally left your lips like a confession, he only tilted his head and smirked. "Did you think I would not see you for what you are?" he murmured, tracing a finger along your jaw. "Did you think I would ever love you less?"

- But behind his smirk, there was fire. Loki had spent his life at the mercy of those who saw difference as weakness, and he would not see you suffer the same. He did not fight with fists or shields—he fought with words, with illusions, with tricks that made fools of those who thought themselves mighty. He whispered secrets into the ears of kings, sowed doubt in the hearts of senators. And when they spoke against mutants, when they spat their venom into the world, Loki only smiled and made them choke on their own lies.

- He did not seek to change the world’s mind—he sought to burn it down. "Why should you suffer their hatred?" he asked one night, his voice soft, dangerous. "Why not take your place above them?" And when you shook your head, when you refused to become the monster they feared, he only sighed and kissed your forehead. "Then let them tremble," he murmured. "For you are far greater than they will ever understand."

- And when the nights were long and your heart was heavy, when the weight of the world pressed against your ribs like iron chains, Loki would pull you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Let them call us monsters," he whispered. "Let them fear us. But know this, my love—you will never stand alone."

- And as the fires of hatred raged across Midgard, Loki only smiled, watching as the world shifted and twisted in the palm of his hand. Because if there was one thing the Trickster God knew, it was this—love was the most dangerous magic of all.

Matthew Murdock (Daredevil)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

- Clint had always been good at spotting the things people tried to hide. It was an instinct sharpened by years of survival, a skill born from growing up in the gutters of a world that didn’t care if he lived or died. He could read people like maps, see the tells in their hands, the flickers in their expressions, the hesitations in their words. And he had seen it in you—the way you flinched at anti-mutant slurs, the way your shoulders stiffened at the news, the way your smile never quite reached your eyes when people spoke of them like they were a disease. But he never pushed. He just waited, patient as ever, because love wasn’t about forcing doors open—it was about letting someone hand you the key.

- When you finally told him, when the words left your lips in a whisper so fragile it could have shattered, Clint didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. He only leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms behind his head, and smirked. “Well, that explains why you’re so much cooler than me.” The joke was light, effortless, but there was something in his eyes—something sharp, something raw. “You really think I’d care?” he asked, voice softer now. And when you looked away, when the weight of the world threatened to crush you, he reached for you, tugging you into his arms with a sigh. “Babe, I don’t care if you’ve got laser eyes or can turn people into frogs—I’m still gonna make bad jokes and steal the covers at night.”

- But beneath the easygoing attitude, there was fire. The next time someone sneered "mutie" under their breath, Clint didn’t let it slide. He was in their face before they even realized what was happening, blue eyes flashing like ice, his tone deceptively casual. “What was that, buddy? Didn’t quite catch it.” And when the man stammered, when he tried to backpedal, Clint only smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He didn’t need to throw punches—his words cut sharper than any arrow.

- But when words weren’t enough, when hatred turned to violence, Clint was the first to stand in front of you, bow drawn, eyes cold. “Pick on someone your own size,” he would say, voice a quiet promise of violence. Because if there was one thing Clint Barton never tolerated, it was bullies. And he wasn’t about to let the world take one more thing from you.

- At night, when the city lights flickered outside your window, when the weight of your past felt too heavy to bear, Clint would pull you close, pressing lazy kisses to your temple. “You don’t ever have to hide from me,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Not from me, not from anyone. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Get used to it.”

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

- Natasha had spent her entire life learning how to read people, how to peel them apart layer by layer until there was nothing left to hide. But you—you were the one puzzle she had never solved, the one mystery she never wanted to crack open with force. She had seen the way your hands trembled when the news spat their venom about mutants, the way your gaze flickered with something like fear when the subject came up. She didn’t push. She knew better than anyone that secrets were stitched into the skin, that some wounds bled even when they weren’t visible.

- But when you finally told her, when the words fell from your lips like something broken, Natasha only tilted her head, studying you with those sharp green eyes. And then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, “I know.” She had known for a while—had put the pieces together long before you ever spoke the words aloud. But she also knew that trust wasn’t something given freely, that love wasn’t about demanding answers. It was about waiting.

- And if you thought, for even a second, that Natasha Romanoff would love you any less, you didn’t know her at all. “Do you think I care?” she asked, voice steady, unwavering. “Do you think I would ever let the world decide how I see you?” And when your breath hitched, when your hands clenched into fists, she stepped closer, pressing her forehead against yours. “I have spent my life being what other people wanted me to be. I will never ask that of you.”

- But if she had been quiet before, if she had let comments about mutants pass unchallenged in the name of discretion, that changed. Natasha was no stranger to political warfare, to the slow, methodical dismantling of enemies without ever lifting a gun. When senators pushed for anti-mutant laws, she ruined them before they ever saw it coming. When anti-mutant organizations rose, they found their files wiped, their bank accounts drained, their secrets exposed. "You hurt them," she whispered into the ear of a man who had called for mutant executions, "and I will erase you."

- At home, in the safety of her arms, Natasha was softer. She kissed your knuckles like they were something sacred, traced patterns against your skin as if memorizing every inch of you. “You don’t have to hide anymore,” she whispered against your lips. “Not from me.”

Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier)

- Bucky knew what it was like to be feared. He knew what it was like to have people look at you like you were something less than human, like you were a weapon instead of a person. And when you finally told him, when you whispered the truth into the quiet of your shared apartment, his jaw clenched. Not at you, never at you—but at the world that had made you feel like this, that had made you afraid to tell the one person who loved you most.

- He didn’t speak right away, just reached for you, his metal fingers cool against your skin, his touch gentle. “Doll,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion, “I’ve done things that would make the devil blush. And you think I’d ever judge you for being born different?”

- But after that, something changed. Bucky had always kept his head down, had always stayed in the shadows when it came to politics and public opinion. But now? Now he was a storm waiting to break. He walked into rooms where men spoke of mutants like they were vermin and let his presence alone silence them. And when they still had the audacity to sneer, to whisper, he let them see the Winter Soldier lurking just beneath his skin. “Say it again,” he dared, voice low, dangerous.

- And God help anyone who laid a hand on you. Bucky didn’t just stop fights—he ended them. He didn’t care if it made him a threat, if it made people wary of him again. He had spent too many years fighting the wrong battles. He would not lose you to their hatred.

- But when the night was quiet, when the world faded away, Bucky was just Bucky. He held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered, pressed his lips to your shoulder as if grounding himself in the feeling of you. “I know what it’s like to feel like a ghost in your own skin,” he murmured. “But you? You’re more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”

- The moment you told Matt, his expression barely flickered. No sharp inhale, no startled pause. He only tilted his head slightly, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thudding like a bird trapped in a cage. He had suspected, of course—Matt could hear the way your breath hitched when someone spat slurs against mutants, could feel the tension coil in your muscles when the news spewed their poison. But he had never pried. He knew what it was like to carry a secret, to guard it like a wound that might never heal.

- When you finished speaking, silence stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. And then, softly, Matt reached for you, his fingers brushing against your wrist before lacing through your own. "You really thought I'd turn away?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He lifted a hand to your cheek, tracing the shape of you as if committing it to memory all over again. "I know what it's like to be something the world hates. I know what it’s like to be called a monster." His voice was steady, but there was something fierce in it—something that said, I will never let them take this from us.

- After that, Matt stopped holding back. If he had once measured his words when it came to mutant discrimination, now he tore through lies like a blade through silk. In courtrooms, he dismantled anti-mutant legislation with the same brutal precision he used to take down criminals in the streets. "Your Honor, I wonder—if my client were anything other than a mutant, would we even be having this discussion?" And in the dead of night, when those same men conspired in alleyways and behind closed doors, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen made them regret every word.

- But when he was with you, when it was just the two of you in the quiet of your apartment, Matt was softer. He pulled you into his lap, let his hands roam as if learning every inch of you anew. "You're not a sin," he murmured against your skin. "You're not something to be ashamed of." And when you whispered that the world would never stop hating people like you, his grip tightened, his voice dark with promise. "Then let them fear me instead."

- Because if the world wanted a devil, Matt would give them one.

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

- Frank didn't react the way you expected. He didn’t ask why you hadn’t told him sooner. Didn’t ask how you’d been hiding it for so long. He just stared at you for a long moment, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. And then he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "That why you were afraid?" he asked, voice rough as gravel. "That I’d look at you different?" His brows furrowed, something dark flashing in his gaze. "You really think that little of me?"

- After that, Frank made his stance on mutants crystal clear. There were men—rich, powerful men—who thought they could wipe out mutantkind in silence, who thought they could hunt people like you without consequence. Frank made sure they learned otherwise. When a senator proposed mutant registration, he found his car a smoking ruin. When a high-ranking mutant-hating official disappeared, no one ever found the body.

- Frank didn’t fight for mutant rights in the public eye. He didn’t make speeches, didn’t march in protests. But when someone threatened you, threatened people like you, they disappeared. It wasn’t justice. It was punishment. It was war. And Frank Castle didn’t lose wars.

- But when he was with you, when the blood and the violence faded into the background, Frank was different. He held you close, his touch bruising but gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. "You ain't gotta be scared no more," he murmured against your hair. "Not while I’m breathin’."

- And God help anyone who ever tried to hurt you. Because Frank Castle didn’t believe in mercy.

Bullseye (Lester)

- When you finally told Bullseye, you braced yourself for disgust, for cruelty, for one of his sharp, cutting laughs. But instead, he just blinked at you once, twice—then tilted his head with a smirk. "That’s what you were scared of?" His voice was pure amusement, laced with something darker. "Oh, sweetheart. You should know by now—I don’t give a damn what you are. Long as you bleed like the rest of ‘em."

- And that was it. No anger, no questions, no sympathy. He didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Didn’t tell you that you were special. Bullseye loved destruction, loved chaos, and knowing that you were something the world feared? It only made you more interesting to him.

- But after that, something in him shifted. He took extra pleasure in tearing apart anti-mutant extremists, in carving his own brand of justice into their skin. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, he made sure they never did it again. "Gotta admit," he murmured one night, flicking a bloodstained knife between his fingers. "It’s fun, huntin’ those bastards down. Feels like a goddamn sport."

- But despite his cruelty, despite his madness, there were moments of startling softness. He would run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, twirl a strand around his finger, murmur against your skin, "You really thought I’d hate you? Sweetheart, I’m not the one who’s ever gonna leave." And that was the most terrifying thing of all—because with Bullseye, love wasn’t gentle. It was obsession.

- He didn’t just accept you. He worshiped you. And in the end, that was the most dangerous thing of all.

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

- Marc had always known you were hiding something. He saw it in the way your body tensed when people talked about mutants, in the way you flinched when a headline spat venom about the so-called "mutant problem." He had spent his life surrounded by secrets, drowning in them, and he could feel yours pressing against you like a second skin. But he never forced it out of you. Marc knew that secrets weren’t pried open—they were given, piece by piece, when the weight of them became too much to bear.

- When you finally told him, your voice was barely more than a whisper, as if the confession alone might break you. For a long moment, Marc didn’t say anything. He just stared, unreadable, his hands curling into fists at his sides. But then—"That’s it?" His voice was quiet, rough, like gravel scraping against pavement. He shook his head, almost scoffing. "You really thought I’d turn my back on you?" And then, softer, his hand reaching for yours, "I’ve been Khonshu’s blade, a mercenary, a killer. You think being born different is what’s gonna change how I see you?"

- After that, something in Marc burned hotter, fiercer. He had never been one to hold his tongue, but now? Now, he was ruthless. When a politician spewed anti-mutant rhetoric, their life crumbled overnight. When hate groups targeted mutants, they found themselves hunted in the dark, their screams lost to the night. He never let you see the worst of it—never let you know just how far he went. But when you traced the bruises on his knuckles, when you saw the fresh cuts on his skin, you knew.

- "They don’t get to win," he told you one night, his voice low, dangerous. "Not while I’m still breathing." And when you tried to tell him that you were used to it, that it didn’t matter, he caught your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "It matters to me."

- When the nightmares came, when the weight of it all became too much, Marc held you close, his breath warm against your hair. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured against your temple. And even when his mind fractured, even when he got lost in the chaos of himself, he always found his way back to you.

Taskmaster (Tony Masters)

- Taskmaster was many things—a killer, a mercenary, a man whose entire life revolved around reading people. And he had read you like an open book the moment he met you. The tension in your shoulders, the hesitation in your voice whenever the topic of mutants came up—he had seen it all, memorized it. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were. But he waited. If you wanted to keep your secret, he wasn’t going to be the one to take it from you.

- But when you finally told him, your voice tight with fear, he just… shrugged. "Yeah. And?" His tone was almost lazy, like it was the most uninteresting thing in the world. When you gaped at him, confusion written all over your face, he only smirked. "Sweetheart, I’ve worked for the worst people you can imagine. You think I care about something like that?" His smirk faded then, his voice turning serious. "You’re mine. That’s all that matters."

- After that, he didn’t just accept it—he weaponized it. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, they didn’t get a second chance. Taskmaster didn’t do morality, didn’t fight for justice. But he did fight for you. And if hurting anti-mutant extremists meant getting a fat paycheck at the same time? Even better.

- He never made speeches, never tried to convince people they were wrong. He just made them pay. When a high-ranking government official pushed for mutant registration, they woke up to find their security detail dead and Taskmaster sitting in their living room, twirling a knife between his fingers. "You’re gonna back off," he told them, voice dangerously calm. "Or I start making this personal." They always backed off.

- But at the end of the day, when it was just the two of you, he was softer in ways he’d never admit. He let you trace the scars on his arms, let you press your forehead against his without a word. "Told ya," he murmured one night, voice almost gentle. "I don’t give a damn what you are. Long as you’re mine."

Johnny Storm (Human Torch)

- Johnny didn’t notice at first. He was too busy being in love with you, too caught up in the way you laughed, the way your eyes shone when you looked at him. But when you finally told him, when the words left your lips like something fragile and breakable, he froze. For the first time in his life, Johnny Storm was speechless.

- And then, after a long, terrible silence, he just—laughed. "Babe," he grinned, pulling you into his arms, "I don’t care if you’re a mutant, an alien, or a wizard. You’re still you. And you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen." He kissed you then, like the whole world could burn and he wouldn’t care.

- But after that? Oh, he made sure everyone knew exactly where he stood. When people talked about mutants like they were a threat, Johnny cut them off with a sharp, "Oh, so now you’ve got a problem with my girlfriend? Say that again, I dare you." And when someone was dumb enough to throw insults in your direction, Johnny lit up, flames crackling around him. "Wanna say that one more time?" he grinned, voice dripping with dangerous amusement. They never did.

- He used his fame, his charm, his name to shift public opinion. He appeared on talk shows, flashing that easy grin, saying things like, "C’mon, guys, this is ridiculous. Mutants are just people. Get over it." And when protests got violent, when mutant kids were being hunted in the streets, Johnny was there, a burning shield between them and the world.

- But when it was just the two of you, when the flames had cooled, he was nothing but warmth. He pulled you against him, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered into your skin, his voice quiet, serious. "And nothing is ever gonna change that."

Reed Richards (Mister Fantastic)

- When you finally told Reed, his first response was silence. Not because he was shocked, not because he needed time to process—but because he was calculating, rearranging every interaction you had ever shared, analyzing every moment where he had failed to see your fear. You had hidden it well, but now that he knew, the weight of it settled over him like a problem he had failed to solve.

- His hands found yours, his gaze steady. "You should have told me," he said, but there was no accusation in his voice. Only quiet regret. He lifted your fingers to his lips, his touch reverent, as if he could rewrite history with something as simple as love. "You’ve carried this alone for too long." And then, with something firmer, something unshakable: "You never have to again."

- From that moment on, Reed became your shield in ways you never expected. He wrote papers dismantling anti-mutant pseudoscience, tore down bigotry with cold, hard fact. When politicians spoke of mutant registration, he left them grasping for counterarguments they could never find. "You claim mutation is unnatural," he said in one televised debate, eyes sharp. "Tell me, Senator—what part of the human genome would you erase? What percentage of the population do you consider a mistake?" The silence that followed was deafening.

- But beyond the science, beyond the politics, there was Reed as your lover. He spent nights in his lab, creating devices to keep you safe, scanning your DNA not to change you, but to understand you. He memorized the nuances of your abilities, mapped them in ways even you hadn’t. "You are a marvel," he told you once, voice full of awe. And for the first time in your life, you believed it.

- And when you lay beside him in the quiet of the Baxter Building, when he pulled you against him with hands ink-stained from endless notes written in your defense, you realized something else: Reed Richards did not love in halves. He was methodical, relentless, infinite. And now, he was yours.

Ben Grimm (The Thing)

- When you told Ben, his first reaction was a long, slow blink. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and ruffled your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That’s what you were scared of?" His voice was warm, gruff, edged with something heartbreakingly gentle. "C’mon, you really think that changes a damn thing?"

- But as much as he tried to downplay it, the knowledge did change something in him. Not in how he saw you, but in how he saw the world. He had always known what it was to be feared, to be hated for something beyond his control—but this? This was different. He started noticing the way people tensed when they spoke about mutants, the way fear bled into cruelty, the way their hatred was masked as logic. And suddenly, it wasn’t just talk. It was personal.

- When someone made a crack about mutants, Ben didn’t get political. He didn’t debate. He just stood up. Let his shadow stretch long, let his presence settle heavy over the room. "You wanna run that by me again?" he rumbled, voice all gravel and quiet fury. And somehow, they never wanted to.

- But with you, Ben was nothing but soft. He pulled you against his chest, let you rest against the solid warmth of him, held you like you were something fragile in a world that had never been kind. "Yer perfect, y’know that?" he muttered one night, fingers tracing mindless patterns against your skin. And when you tried to protest, to remind him of all the ways the world had told you otherwise, he only huffed. "Nah. They don’t get to decide that. Not about you."

- And so he stayed. Through every sneer, every whispered slur, every fight that came too close to home. He stayed because you were his, and Ben Grimm had never walked away from something he loved.

Susan Storm (Invisible Woman)

- When you finally found the courage to tell Sue, she didn’t gasp, didn’t recoil—she simply reached for you, her hands framing your face with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, brushing her thumbs against your skin. "You must have been so scared."

- And just like that, it was no longer about what you were, but about what the world had done to you. About the weight you had carried alone, about the fear that had burrowed into your bones. And Susan Storm, for all her grace, for all her composure, had never been one to stand by while the world hurt the people she loved.

- She became fierce. Not just in words, but in action. She used her influence, her name, her power to carve out space for mutants where there had been none before. She protected, she fought, she defended. And when the world pushed back, she pushed harder.

- And when the nights were quiet, when it was just the two of you tangled together beneath the covers, she let the walls fall. "You don’t have to be strong all the time," she whispered against your temple. "Not with me."

- And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in your life, you believed her.

Felicia Hardy (Black Cat)

- Felicia’s first reaction was a slow, sharp grin. "Oh, baby," she purred, tracing a finger along your jaw. "Did you really think I’d care?" And then, with a soft chuckle, "I love you. Not whatever label the world wants to slap on you."

- But after that, things changed. Not between you and her—Felicia had always been ride-or-die—but between her and the rest of the world. She started stealing from anti-mutant organizations, draining their bank accounts, erasing their influence. She exposed corrupt politicians, left damning evidence in the hands of journalists who wouldn’t bury the truth. She didn’t just defend you—she made sure they suffered.

- And when someone dared to insult you to her face? Oh, that was a mistake. Felicia was many things—a thief, a liar, a woman who played by her own rules—but she had never been forgiving.

- But when it was just the two of you, when the world fell away, she was something softer. She pulled you close, her touch feather-light, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "You don’t ever have to hide from me."

- And she meant it. With Felicia, there were no masks, no secrets—just you, raw and real and loved.

Stephen Strange (Doctor Strange)

- You told Stephen in the dead of night, in the hush between flickering candlelight and the whispered hum of ancient spells. The words barely left your lips before you regretted them, before the years of fear coiled around your ribs like iron chains. You had seen the world turn its back on you before—had watched the disgust, the pity, the cold, clinical rejection in the eyes of those who should have loved you. And so, when Stephen only sighed, when he looked at you with something impossibly gentle, it felt like the weight of the universe shifted.

- He did not recoil, did not hesitate. Instead, he reached for you, fingers tracing the lines of your wrist as if following the constellations of your existence. "My love," he murmured, voice steeped in something ancient, something infinite, "I have walked the hidden paths of the multiverse, have spoken with beings older than time itself. Do you truly believe that something as arbitrary as human prejudice could alter the way I see you?"

- After that, Stephen became an immovable force against those who dared to speak against you. His words were blades sharper than any steel, cutting through the ignorance of men who cloaked their hatred in rhetoric. He did not rage—he did not need to. He dismantled their arguments with the ease of a scholar correcting a student, left them floundering in the wake of his intellect. And when words were not enough, when cruelty turned to violence, Stephen stood between you and the world with a shield of eldritch fire.

- He wove spells into the fabric of your existence, sigils of protection hidden in the way his hands lingered on your skin. No force, mortal or divine, could lay a hand upon you without answering to him. He would break reality itself before he allowed harm to come to you. "They will not touch what is mine," he vowed, and the universe itself seemed to bend to his will.

- And yet, in the quiet hours, when the world faded away and it was just the two of you wrapped in the sanctuary of the Sanctum, he was simply Stephen. He kissed away your fears with the patience of a man who had once lost everything, who knew what it meant to find something worth keeping. "You are not cursed," he told you one night, his voice woven with something that felt like devotion. "You are celestial." And in his arms, you could finally believe it.

Namor (The Sub-Mariner)

- The weight of your secret had always been heavier in his presence. Namor was not a man accustomed to softness, not a man who bent to the whims of others. His love was a tempest, fierce and unrelenting, and you had never known if that storm would hold you or tear you apart. But when you finally told him, when the truth finally slipped past your lips like a confession carved in blood, the air between you went still.

- He did not speak for a long moment. His gaze was unreadable, sharp as a blade honed for war. And then—"You feared I would turn from you?" His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath it, something ancient and offended. "You feared Namor, King of Atlantis, would forsake his beloved for being what she has always been?" His hand found your chin, tilting your face up toward him, his expression dark with something that looked like fury—not at you, but at the world that had made you believe he could be so small.

- The moment passed, and then his lips were on yours, fierce and possessive, a declaration written in salt and fire. "You are mine," he murmured against your mouth. "Let them speak against you, if they dare. I will drown their cities in ruin before I let them lay a hand upon you." And you knew, with every inch of your soul, that he meant it.

- After that, Namor made no secret of where he stood. When leaders of the surface world spoke of mutants as a threat, they found themselves facing the cold fury of a king who had toppled empires. "Your hatred is as weak as the land you stand upon," he sneered at them, voice like a blade slicing through their feeble protests. "And just as easily shattered." His presence alone sent waves of terror through the political landscape—because an enemy of mutants was now an enemy of Atlantis.

- But beneath all the fire, beneath the war cries and the kingdom that bowed to his will, there was Namor, the man who held you like the most precious thing in the ocean’s depths. "You are of the sea now," he told you once, his voice quieter, reverent. "No one—no thing—will ever take you from me." And when you lay beside him in the deep silence of his kingdom, you knew that, for the first time, you were not alone.

Johnny Blaze (Ghost Rider)

- You had seen the fire in Johnny’s eyes, had traced the inferno that lived in his veins. And yet, when you told him—when you finally let the weight of your truth spill from your lips—you expected him to burn you with it. You expected the same rejection you had spent your life swallowing, expected the words that had been carved into your skin since childhood: monster, mistake, unwanted.

- But Johnny only exhaled, running a scarred hand through his hair before looking at you with something impossibly tender. "That’s what you were scared of?" He let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh, before reaching for you, pulling you against him with a gentleness that contradicted the hellfire in his soul. "Sweetheart, I sold my goddamn soul to the devil. You think I got room to judge anybody?"

- And that was it. No questions, no hesitations—just love, steady and unshaken. But the world was not so kind, and Johnny saw it. Saw the way they looked at you, the way their hatred curled like poison in the air. And something dark stirred in him, something ancient and vengeful. The Rider did not abide by human morality, did not hesitate to pass judgment. And when Johnny let him loose, when the skull and chains and fire consumed him, the wicked burned.

- "You wanna know what real monsters look like?" he snarled at those who spat hatred at you. "Take a good, long look." And then the fire came, and the screams followed. The guilty never walked away the same. Some never walked away at all.

- But when the flames died, when the smoke settled, it was just Johnny again. Just the man who traced circles against your back, who kissed your knuckles like a silent vow. "Ain’t nothin’ in this world that could make me love you less," he murmured against your skin. "You hear me? Nothin’." And for once, in a world that had never made space for you, you believed it.

Eddie Brock / Venom

- You expected the worst. Eddie had always been a man of absolutes, of raw emotion barely restrained beneath the surface. And Venom? The symbiote was a creature of instinct, unpredictable and feral. You had spent days, weeks, months dreading the moment—wondering if love would turn to disgust, if loyalty would be drowned beneath the tide of prejudice you had known your whole life.

- But when the words finally left your lips, when you admitted what you were with a voice tight and brittle, Eddie just stared. Not with anger. Not with fear. Just silence, long and unreadable. And then—"That’s what had you so freaked out?" His voice was almost bored, like you had just confessed something as mundane as forgetting to lock the door. Venom slithered over his shoulder then, black tendrils shifting, its alien voice a deep, guttural purr. "WE ARE NOT AFRAID," it growled. "WE LOVE YOU."

- And that was that. Eddie never treated you differently. There were no long speeches, no reassurances—you didn’t need them. You were his. That was the only thing that mattered. But the world? The world didn’t see it that way. And Eddie, for all his temper, had never cared much for the opinions of cowards. "You wanna talk to me about monsters?" he snarled at a reporter who dared to spew anti-mutant rhetoric. "You think you know what ‘dangerous’ looks like? Let me introduce you." And then the symbiote spread its maw, teeth glinting, hunger rising. The fear in their eyes was enough.

- Venom became your guardian, your shadow, your monster in the dark. When the bigots came, they never came twice. "They are WEAK," the symbiote cooed in your ear. "THEY WILL NOT TOUCH YOU." And Eddie, for all his gruffness, only pulled you against his chest, arms solid and safe. "They gotta go through me first," he muttered. And no one—no one—was getting through him.

- But in the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t looking, he was just Eddie. Just a man who held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to humanity. "You think I’m the normal one in this relationship?" he joked one night, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Sweetheart, you’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me." And maybe, just maybe, you could finally believe it.

T’Challa (Black Panther)

- You had spent your life preparing for rejection, bracing for the moment love turned to loss. You had seen kings pass judgment on your kind before—had heard their decrees of condemnation, their insistence that you were too different, too dangerous. And T’Challa—T’Challa—was a king before anything else.

- But when you finally told him, when you spoke your truth in the sanctuary of his chambers, his expression did not waver. He watched you with the patience of a man who had already known the answer, as if he had long suspected the secret you carried. "I see," he murmured, his voice like the softest roll of thunder. And then, after a long pause, he took your hands in his, his grip steady, unshaken. "You are afraid I will turn from you?" He exhaled slowly, as if the thought alone was offensive. "Beloved, you insult me."

- It was not pity in his gaze—it was understanding. Wakanda had spent centuries fighting against the world’s judgment, against the fear and greed that sought to tear it apart. He had felt the weight of being seen as other, as a threat. And so, his response was not outrage, not shock, but something far more powerful. Acceptance.

- And the world listened. When leaders spoke of mutant registration, of control, of suppression, they found their words met with the unwavering will of the Black Panther. "Wakanda will not stand with cowards," he declared, his voice carrying across the United Nations floor like the strike of a war drum. "You speak of protecting humanity, yet you wield fear as a weapon. We have seen this before. We have lived it. And we will not allow history to repeat itself."

- But when it was just the two of you, when the weight of kingship faded and it was simply T’Challa, he was nothing but gentle. He pulled you close, his lips tracing the curve of your shoulder, his voice a low, steady murmur. "You are my heart," he whispered against your skin. "And my heart does not fear."

Elektra Natchios

- Elektra had always been a blade honed to perfection—silent, deadly, unforgiving. You had never known if her love was something sharp or something soft, had never been certain if you were an exception or just another inevitable loss waiting to happen. And so, when you told her, when you let your secret slip between breaths, you braced yourself for the cut.

- But Elektra did not flinch. Did not look at you with fear, or pity, or hesitation. Instead, she tilted her head, assessing you with the same cold precision she reserved for the battlefield. And then, after a long, heavy silence, she smirked. "You thought I would care?" she mused, her voice like silk over steel. "Darling, I’ve murdered kings. I’ve torn empires apart with my own hands. Do you think something as small as genetics could change how I see you?"

- After that, she became merciless with those who sought to harm you. The Hand, the government, the cowards who whispered venom against mutants—none of them were safe. When a senator proposed a bill to restrict mutant rights, he disappeared. When a crime syndicate funneled money into anti-mutant propaganda, their bodies were found in the river, their throats slit with precision. Elektra did not argue with bigots. She ended them.

- But in the quiet, when the blood was washed from her hands, she was something else. She traced the line of your jaw with a touch that was almost reverent, as if memorizing the shape of you. "They will never touch you," she promised one night, her voice a whisper against your lips. "Not while I still breathe." And you knew, with bone-deep certainty, that she meant it.

- Because Elektra’s love was not gentle. It was not tender. It was a promise carved in blood and steel. And it was yours.

Muse

- Telling Muse was like spilling ink into water—unpredictable, shifting, impossible to contain. He stared at you for a long moment, his head tilting in that unnatural way of his, as if dissecting your words, peeling them apart layer by layer. And then, he laughed. Not cruelly. Not mockingly. But with something like delight.

- "You think I would care?" he mused, his voice thick with amusement, with something almost manic. "Darling, normal is boring." He leaned closer then, his breath warm against your ear. "But you? You’re art."

- After that, the world became a canvas. The walls of Hell’s Kitchen bled with murals of your face, with paintings that whispered of something divine. He did not defend you with words—he did not care for words. Instead, he let the city see you the way he saw you. Mutant? Human? It didn’t matter. You were beautiful.

- And when someone dared to insult you, when they let their fear curl into something ugly, Muse did not argue. He simply disappeared for a night. And when he returned, there was red on his hands, on his lips, staining his teeth like war paint.

- But in the quiet, when the madness faded, he was just Muse. Just the man who traced shapes into your skin, who whispered things that made your breath catch. "You are my greatest masterpiece," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your pulse. And you knew, with absolute certainty, that he meant it.

Victor von Doom (Dr. Doom)

- You told him in a whisper, in the shadowed halls of Latveria’s castle, your voice barely more than a breath. Doom had never been a man to suffer surprises, and you knew—knew—how he viewed the world. His vision was absolute, his standards uncompromising. You had braced yourself for fury, for cold dismissal, for a sharp-edged rejection that would carve itself into your bones. But when the words left your lips, Victor merely turned his head, his green cloak billowing behind him as he regarded you in silence.

- His mask gave away nothing, but his voice, when he finally spoke, was steady. "You believe Doom would be swayed by such trivialities?" There was no outrage. No scorn. Only the weight of certainty. "You are mine. That has not changed." And just like that, your fear seemed foolish. Doom had never cared for the prejudices of lesser men—why would he start now?

- But what did change was how the world suffered for its ignorance. The moment the anti-mutant hysteria reached Latveria’s borders, it was met with swift, merciless retribution. "Mutants are under my protection," he declared, standing before the United Nations, his voice like the strike of a hammer. "Those who threaten them threaten Doom. And Doom does not forgive." Countries that passed anti-mutant laws found their infrastructure failing overnight, their leaders waking to nightmares of iron gauntlets closing around their throats.

- Doom did not merely defend you—he reshaped reality itself to ensure that no hand dared rise against you again. When a coalition of world leaders tried to enforce mutant registration, their satellites fell from the sky, their wealth turned to ash. "They will learn," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, "or they will burn."

- But in the quiet, when the weight of sovereignty slipped from his shoulders, Victor held you differently. He traced the line of your jaw with ungloved hands, his voice no longer the decree of a ruler, but the murmur of a man. "You are beyond them," he told you one night, his lips ghosting over yours. "And Doom does not bow to the small-minded."

Peter Quill (Star-Lord)

- The moment the words left your mouth, Peter blinked, his brows furrowing like he had misheard you. "Wait—hold up. That’s what’s been eating you?" He let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Babe, I thought you were gonna tell me you had, like, a killer ex or some galactic bounty on your head."

- He took your hands then, squeezing them with the kind of reckless, unwavering devotion that only Peter Quill could offer. "I don’t care about that mutant stuff, okay? You’re you. That’s what matters." And just like that, the weight on your chest vanished. Because Peter—sweet, ridiculous, infuriating Peter—had never cared about things like labels. You were his. That was the only thing that mattered.

- But when the galaxy did care, when the whispers of mutant hatred spread beyond Earth, Peter changed. Gone was the easygoing smuggler, the charming rogue. In his place was the son of a warlord, a man who had seen entire planets fall to fear. "You wanna go after mutants?" he snarled at a Kree ambassador who dared to suggest mutant containment. "Lemme tell you something, pal—mutants don’t need protecting from people like you. You need protecting from them."

- The Guardians became your fiercest defenders. Rocket rigged explosives to anti-mutant ships, Drax openly challenged bigots to duels (none survived), and Gamora—gods, Gamora—made sure that the universe learned a very simple lesson: you do not come for what belongs to the Guardians of the Galaxy.

- But when it was just you and Peter, when the weight of the cosmos faded, he was still the same dork who danced with you in the cockpit, who pressed forehead kisses against your skin, who whispered, "You’re my favorite person in the whole galaxy." And you believed him.

Richard Rider (Nova)

- Rich had always been a man caught between two worlds—human and cosmic, soldier and survivor. You knew, deep down, that he understood what it was to be other, to be shaped by forces beyond his control. And yet, when you finally told him the truth, you still braced for the worst.

- He just stared at you. Not in shock. Not in horror. Just… processing. And then, after what felt like eternity, he exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Jesus, babe, I thought you were gonna tell me something bad." He let out a shaky laugh, shaking his head. "I don’t give a damn about that. You think being a mutant makes you different? I’ve been half-space-god since I was a teenager. You’re nothing compared to the weird crap I’ve seen."

- But when Earth made it clear that it did care, when mutants were hunted and vilified, Rich stepped up. Hard. The Nova Corps had always been neutral, but Rich? Rich was not. He tore through fleets of Sentinels, shut down space stations funding anti-mutant research, and made sure the Shi’ar never forgot what happened when they overstepped. "Mutants are under my protection," he declared, his voice carrying through the void. "Come for them, and you answer to Nova Prime."

- And when the anti-mutant rhetoric reached Earth, when humans whispered about control and containment, Rich snapped. "You people don’t get it, do you?" he spat during a live broadcast, his helmet in his hands, his blue eyes furious. "The universe is full of things that would eat you alive. And you’re wasting your time fighting mutants? Jesus Christ, you people never learn."

- But when it was just you and him, when the war was distant and the stars were quiet, he pulled you into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss against your temple. "You’re my whole damn universe," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, with love. "And I’m never letting anything happen to you."

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fanficsaremylifeline · 5 years ago

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, May Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Ned Leeds, J. Jonah Jameson Summary:

Things really couldn't be better: Harley, who Peter met at MIT, was finally his boyfriend and, just like Peter, he also got a place for his practical semester in NYC. Things are a little weird, when that place just happens to be at SI as well, because apparently Harley and Tony are similarly close as Peter is with his Irondad. To keep things from getting too mixed up, they decide to keep their relationship to themselves. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

***

“Come on Pete, get up!”, Harley called and almost immediately a pillow hit Peter in the head.

“I'm up”, he groaned, but before he could open his eyes, another pillow hit him right in the face. “What the fuck, dude?”

“Good, you're awake”, Harley grinned, that damn shit-eating grin. “Come on, get dressed I'd like to get going.”

“What's your rush?” Begrudgingly, Peter rolled over, just enough so his feet would dangle out of the bed. “We're on holiday, you... you...” Damnit, Peter couldn't even think of an insult.

“Wow, your intelligence is really sexy”, Harley deadpanned and, with the shake of his head he tossed a bundle of clothes on the bed. “You're not getting into my car naked”, he made clear.

“You wish, Keener”, he grinned back, before he got himself dressed.

The last few weeks have been pretty fun. Peter had seen Harley in a few lectures; with them both majoring in engineering, it was natural that they had to sit through a few of the same profs. It wasn't until a house party that they properly met, though. Even though he did not want to go, Ned somehow convinced Peter to come along. College parties were however quite annoying, since Peter couldn't get drunk. Thank you, spider-metabolism... So, as usually when Ned dragged him somewhere people were drinking, Peter ended up on the couch in the corner, earplugs in so the noise and music wouldn't hurt his brain too much, all that with his homework.

“You're seriously doing homework? At a party?”

Peter looked up to find Harley standing in front of him.

“Didn't want to come in the first place if I'm being honest”, he just shrugged and, as Harley sat himself down besides Peter it seemed as if their conversation was gonna be a little more than just small talk, so he closed his book.

“Anyway I can lighten up your night then?”, he grinned over and Peter couldn't help the flush and the awkward smile spreading over his face.

“I think it already has.”

Oh fuck, that was cheesy. Thankfully, Harley didn't seem to think so, as his cheeks blushed ever so slightly.

Shit, was Peter supposed to continue flirting with that quite gorgeous guy? As good as he might be at saving the world or engineering, he was downright horrible at flirting. But, thanks to his lucky star or guardian angel, Peter didn't have to.

“It's not really my thing, either. But there's this really nice bar just around the corner.”

That was Peter being asked out, right? “Sounds good”, he grinned.

“Great”, Harley smiled back and got up. “Come on, then. My treat.”

And ever since then they were... Peter wasn't sure. Yes, they went out a lot, but Peter wasn't certain if it were actually dates. They haven't had the talk yet, so for now Peter was gonna go with the step between friends with benefits and actual boyfriends. They probably should talk about it...

“Come on, you can have breakfast in the car, traffic's gonna be a bitch and I would like to reach New York today.”

“Yes sir”, Peter grumbled and pulled his shirt over his head.

“That you could have left off”, Harley smirked.

“Tough”, Peter shot back and grabbed his bag. “We going or what?”

Not that Peter or Harley knew too much about the other, but Peter had found out that Harley moved to New York. Which was pretty nice. It meant on the one hand that Peter had a a lift back home. But what was even better, was that they both had an internship for their practical semester there. Apparently, Harley's boss was an old friend who had offered him a job. Great for Harley and great for Peter, giving him more than enough chances to hang out. Or were they more than that? They had barely left Massachusetts, when Peter couldn't hold the curiosity in any longer.

“Are we dating?”, he blurted out, turning to Harley with wide eyes.

“Uhm, I think so”, he answered. “Are we?”

“I mean...” By now Peter was blushing redder than his spider-suit. “I kinda hope so”, he eventually got out and couldn't help the awkward grin.

“Well, Peter, I gotta say, your timing is horrible.”

“What? Why?” Damnit, Peter thought Harley felt the same way!

“Because I would have liked to seal you officially being my boyfriend by kissing you which is a little hard to do, while we're on the fucking highway and I have to focus on the road.”

“Awww!”, Peter squealed and leaned over just enough to put a peck on Harley's cheek. “You think that's enough for now?”

“For now”, Harley smiled. “I still might pull over at the next motorway station, just to make sure...”

“My house is that one over there”, Peter gestured at the Parker's apartment building.

“Right then.” As they came to a hold in front of the door, Harley smiled over.

“Thank you so very much for the lift.”

“Anything for my boyfriend”, Harley beamed.

“I kinda feel compelled to ask you to come upstairs with me, join me for a cup of coffee. It would include meeting my aunt, though.”

“Next time, ok?”

“Sure thing.” Peter was honestly a little glad. Aunt May will like Harley, there was not a doubt in his mind, but Aunt May wasn't the only one Harley had to meet. How in the hell was Peter gonna break him being family with the Starks and the Avengers? Hell, how is Peter going to break to Harley, his boyfriend, that he's Spider-Man? “It's not like we need to hurry, is it? We've got our entire semester here in NY together, there's no need to rush into anything.”

“Yeah”, Harley smiled, and what a beautiful smile that was. “Oh hey, since I'm pretty new in town, you perhaps know any nice places this city has to offer?” And like that, the sweet, beautiful smile turned into a flirty grin.

“Depends, what'd you want to do?”

“Well you know, there's this guy... We've been going out for a while, but now we made it official and a native New Yorker like you might have an idea where I could take him.”

“Oh really?”, Peter grinned back, “well he surely is a lucky guy.”

“Tell me about it, he really hit the jackpot.” And there was that damn shit-eating grin again.

Well, there was only one way to get rid of it. Peter cupped Harley's face and pulled him in for a kiss. A fantastic, time-stopping, world-ending, hair-raising kiss.

“Message me when you got to your place, ok?”, Peter mumbled.

“Promise”, he nodded and, after one, maybe two (ok, four) more pecks, Peter got out and waved after the car, until it disappeared in traffic.

That was his boyfriend. HIS BOYFRIEND! Peter skipped up the stairs and almost ripped their apartment door out of its hinges in excitement.

“Pete, honey!” May gracefully played over the almost needed reparations and welcomed him with open arms and Peter flung himself right into his aunt's embrace, thusly starting quite the amalgamation of I-love-yous, I-missed-you, I-missed-you-more, and oh so many hugs. All that only ended, when a harrumph interrupted them.

“Happy”, Peter grinned, when he identified the voice behind him and turned to hug him right away.

“Pete, it's great to see you”, he laughed. “Had a good drive?”

“Oh, yes”, Peter nodded, trying his hardest not to grin like the love-sick idiot he was. It as the absolutely perfect drive, and damn, he was so smitten and infatuated, he just wanted to call Harley right away, even if he only had seen him like ten minutes ago.

“Seems like it. I'm really happy your friend could give you a lift”, May smiled. “Didn't he want to come upstairs?”

“He still has a bit to drive. Don't worry, you'll meet him soon enough.” Mostly, because I can't wait to see him again...

“Right. Before you tell us some more, you might want to call Tony”, Happy suggested. “He's still a little pissed he didn't get to pick you up.”

“Well, I won't want to let him wait then”, Peter grinned and made for the privacy of his room, before opening up facetime and calling his favourite Stark.

“PETEY!”, Morgan squealed as she answered his call. “Are you in New York again?”

“Hi Mo”, he beamed back, “yeah, I just arrived and wanted to check in with my favourite Avenger.”

“But Daddy says I can't be an Avenger”, she moped.

“We just don't tell Dad.”

“What won't you tell Dad?” Tony's voice came from the off somewhere. Leaving Morgan no chance to explain and talk her and Peter's way out of it, he continued right away: “would you please tell Mr Parker that if he doesn't even bother to call his boss, he can kiss his internship goodbye.”

“You got that?”, she asked, her eyebrow raised in all the Stark-fashion.

“Yeah”, he snorted, “please tell Mr Stark that I love him too, but if he's that difficult before I've even started, I might just call up Reed Richards. Or maybe I'll just send an application to... OsCorp”, he added with a chirp.

“Oh, you little sh...” Tony jumped in front of the camera, ready to disinherit and cuss Peter out, when he remembered his daughter next to him. “You are a horrible person.”

“Mo, didn't he get his hot chocolate today?”, Peter asked her, completely ignoring the fake-angry Ironman. “You know that he gets cranky when he doesn't get his hot choc.”

“I'm not responsible for him”, Morgan made clear.

“We both know he can't look after himself”, Peter sighed. “Don't worry, darling, I'm back for the next half year, so you're not alone with him any more.”

“Thank you, you're the best!”

“You know I can hear you”, Tony deadpanned, looking from one to the other.

“Good, so you remembered your aids”, Peter snorted, before he could stop himself.

Morgan burst out laughing and Tony's face just dropped.

“Right then, sweetie, I think I'd better go”, Peter gulped. “So Mr Stark, let me just say beforehand that I am so honoured that you accepted my application and I cannot wait to start my internship in two weeks. Mo, our plans for tomorrow are still on?”

“Sure are”, she giggled, while Tony was still caught in his dumbfounded shock. “Can't wait!”

“Me neither. Alright, get our old man to bed, alright?”

“See you tomorrow! Love you!” With that she shot some kissy-faces towards the camera, and Peter parroted.

“Love you, too.”

And, before Tony could react, Peter waved and hung up on the call.

Tony: You're a little shit, Parker.

Peter: Yeah...

Tony: At least you know...

Tony: Glad to have you back in reach though. See you tomorrow?

Peter: I'll come over after breakfast

Tony: Good. I love you, kiddo

Peter: I love you, too <3

Harley: Hey Peter :) So, driving through New York is a nightmare!!! I'm finally at my place, though and everything's alright :)

Peter: then I'm happy :D

Harley: things at home good?

Peter: yeah, my aunt's happy to have me home again and I am, too

Peter: how're things at your new place?

Harley: it's all good

Harley: my friend's a bit overeager, there was probably no need for me to pack anything...

Peter: so you rushing me out of bed this morning... that WASN'T overeager?

Harley: That was a 4/10

Peter: 4? Dude, what's your scale like?

Harley: dude? That how you talk to your boyfriend?

Peter: yeah ;)

Peter: Dude, but like romantically :)

Harley: aww! * heart eyes *

What a lovely day for a swing towards the compound. The sun was shining, the March air was cool, but thankfully, there was this nice heater installed.

Since the door was for losers, Peter happily scaled the compound's wall and, instead of climbing onto the balcony and make at least a bit of a proper entrance, he knocked on Morgan's window.

“HIIII!”, she squealed as she let him inside. Peter had barely made it in, when she already tackle-hugged him, all but pushing Peter back out of the window.

“Hey Mo”, he laughed, once he found his balance. “I missed you so much.” He leaned down, just enough to put a kiss on her head.

“I missed you more. Come on, Daddy will be really happy to see you!” She grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him out into the living room. “DAAAAADDYYYY!” Wow. That cry could wake the dead.

“Honey, what have we said about the indoor voi... Oh, would you look at that.” Tony walked up to them and, as soon as he saw Peter, he stopped in his movements, crossed his arms in front of his chest. All that of course with the signature raised eyebrow.

“Good morning, sir”, Peter smiled, trying his all to sound nice and proper. “There is no need to worry, there was only a masked man climbing into your eight-year-old daughter's bedroom.”

“Peter. Stop creeping me out and get over here.” Tony rolled his eyes and held his arms out. Letting go of Morgan's hand, Peter was in his arms in two big strides. “Missed you, kiddo.”

“I better enjoy it as long as that feeling lasts, because that might sound a little differently in like four months.”

“I don't think it'll take that long”, Tony scoffed and put his arm around Peter, giving Morgan another free arm to hold on to.

“Daddy's only kidding”, Morgan made clear as she looked up with big eyes. “We'll never ever get tired of you.”

“Aww!” Peter had known it as soon as he met her, but in moments like these it was even more clear: there was nothing he wouldn't do for that girl. “I love you too, honey.”

“Good. Now, there's a lot to do. You need to tell us all about MIT and oh! I gotta show you!” Before Peter really knew it, she pulled him out of Tony's hold and into the kitchen. “LOOK!”

Excitedly, she pointed at the fridge, where right next to the picture of Peter at his graduation her current report card was pinned on. Since she was the daughter of Tony and Pepper it wasn't all that surprising to see her acing everything, Peter was still so incredibly proud.

“Oh wow! Straight As, that's amazing!” He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her up and spun her around, getting out all the squeals, just lighting up his everything. Thanks to Peter's super-strength, he actually could still properly spin her and throw her around and Morgan loved it to no end.

“Please don't kill my daughter”, Tony called over from the living room.

“You never let me do anything fun”, Peter moaned, walking back over with Morgan giggling as he dangled her off his back.

“I know, I'm such a monster.”

“Dad, can we go and say hi to Mummy?”

“You can go and say hi, if Pete wants to. Just don't make too much drama, and kiddo, you gotta change first.”

Yeah, Tony might have a point there. Wouldn't want to let all of SI know about that secret identity...

So, a few minutes later, Peter and Morgan skipped towards the SI offices, as Morgan caught him up on all the gossip in the building. At least all the gossip a third-grader could gather up. That was mostly limited to the ongoing cookie-war between Bucky and Thor. It didn't seem like the decision who was truly the best baking Avenger was made any time soon. Nobody in the building was complaining though, there were more than enough delicious baked goods for everybody.

“And promise you won't tell Daddy, but Uncle Rhodey let me fly a bit with him.”

“No.” With wide eyes, he turned to her. “Really? You got to fly with Uncle Rhodey?”

“It was sooo cool!”, she beamed up, “we did two rounds around the compound and we even flew a loop!”

“Omigod, I want to do that, too! I never flew with Uncle Rhodey.”

“But you can almost fly yourself”, she shrugged and pulled him along the corridor.

“I guess... I can't do loops though.”

“You'll have to negotiate with Uncle Rhodey.” And with that she burst into her Mum's office, pulling Peter behind her. “Hi Mum! Look who's here!”

“Pete, so good to see you”, she smiled and got up to greet him properly with a hug. “You good?”

“Very much so. And you?”

“Me too. I'm actually working on your paperwork right now”, Pepper grinned.

“Huh... Getting serious.”

“It is. But for now enjoy that bit of break you have. I assume that you'll spend that time either with the little Miss here or in the lab with Tony.”

“Yes he is”, Morgan answered instead of him.

“You heard her Highness”, Peter chuckled.

“And we wanted to come say hello to you, and I already told him about the cookie war, so we'll go to the Avengers now and get cookies, and then Peter can say hello to them.”

“Sounds good, but Dad said he's gonna cook dinner, so we might wanna go easy on the cookies”, Peter threw in.

“You're boring”, Morgan decided.

“But he's right”, Pepper made clear. “You can go and say hi to Uncle Thor and them, but leave the cookies for dessert.”

“Fine”, the girl moaned.

“Bring some for the rest of us, too, ok?”

“Sure thing”, Peter grinned, held his hand out and together they skipped through the compound, enjoying plenty of hugs, and maybe one too many cookies, before making their way back to the penthouse.

“You're just in time”, Tony greeted them.

“We got dessert.” Proudly, Morgan held the baggie of cookies out to Tony, as they made their way into the dining room.

“That is amazing”, Tony goggled and shot his daughter the widest smile. “You're the best.”

“I know”, she grinned.

“Yep, that's my girl alright”, he chuckled and handed Peter a stack of plates.

“Five plates? I know Happy's on a date, but is Rhodey eating with us?”

“No, there's someone else you got to meet. Remember, I told you about the kid with the potatogun?”

“Yeah”, Peter nodded.

“Well, he's here for an internship as well. 'bout your age, also at MIT and well, it's high-time you two met”, Tony explained, as he put the forks and knives down.

“Cool”, Peter nodded. He was always down to meet nerds like himself. And, if Tony liked the guy enough to invite him to eat together, he was probably a cool guy Peter could get along with.

“Ah, speak of the devil”, Tony smiled, as the elevator door pinged.

Who walked into the room was not anybody Peter had expected though. “Pete, meet Harley. Harley, that's Peter”, Tony introduced them and Peter caught his face falling a little too late. It wasn't just any Harley, it was Peter's Harley. His boyfriend. Who Tony didn't know about.

“Uhm hi”, he grinned awkwardly at Harley, who clearly fought hard against the blush.

“Hi Peter.” He bit down a grin as he held his hand out. “It's so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise”, Peter all but giggled as he shook the outstretched hand.

“Guys, can we eat? I'm hungry!”, Morgan moaned, thankfully interrupting the awkwardness.

“How? You just had cookies.”

“Seriously? You go and eat all the cookies, while I'm slaving in the kitchen for you kids?” With the most dramatic expression he could muster up, Tony clutched his chest. “That is how you thank me?”

“I will always be hungry enough for your food”, she beamed up at him and, when Peter finally managed to break eye contact with Harley, he could see Tony melting right there in front of them. It was delightful.

Or well, it would be, if he didn't feel Harley's eyes on him, especially once they got themselves seated, with his boyfriend right opposite Peter. Thankfully, Morgan was giddy enough to pull all the attention toward herself and away from the boyfriends, looking everywhere but the other.

This was so weird. In the initial surprise of finding out that the potatogunkid, Peter had heart so much about, was his boyfriend, it didn't even occur to either one to tell the truth. But the longer that it lasted, the more Peter's insecurity grew.. Weren't they going to tell the truth? Peter was not sure if it was something he wanted right now, given that their relationship was really new. Like 24 hours new.

“I gotta say, I'm surprised you two haven't met yet”, Tony commented when he eventually got a word in.

Neither seemed to be sure how to continue with that, as they both just looked at Tony with wide eyes.

“What?”, Tony shot back. “If you two knew each other it would have come up; Peter's told me so much about his group of friends, I feel like I know everything about Tommy and Jacob and Brianna and the oh so pretty and intelligent Allison...” He shot Peter some eyebrow-wiggles, leaving him to turn beet-red and looking everywhere except for Harley.

“Oh, Allison Lopez?”, Harley grinned, “that's your taste?”

Shit, couldn't Peter just turn invisible? Yes, he might have had a bit of a crush on her, but that was two semesters ago and as good of friends they were, there wasn't anything going on between him and Allison.

Tony however didn't seem to understand that. “I still don't get what keeps you from going out with her.”

“Neither can I”, Harley continued with that infuriating smirk. “I mean she is so nice and smart and yeah, she's really beautiful.”

“Please Keener, what do you know, you're gay”, Tony scoffed.

“Oh you are?”, Peter shot over and Harley just rolled his eyes. Whether at Tony or Peter, he wasn't sure.

“I can still appreciate beautiful women”, he ignored Peter as he addressed Tony. “For example I can tell that your wife is so out of your league.”

Oh damn. Yup, Peter definitely knew why he was into that guy. “Harley, I like you”, he grinned over.

In return he got the most exasperated of all the deadpans: “Gee, thanks.” Knowing him like he did, Peter was pretty damn sure that Harley fought tooth and nail to keep from retorting something along the lines of 'yeah, you made that clear the other night'. Thankfully, to a) keep from scarring Morgan for life and b) keep Tony from having a heart attack, Harley bit any remarks back.

“Yeah, he's really funny”, Morgan giggled, earning her Tony's signature move: the pointing at her with his eyebrows raised.

“Young lady, he is not. Harley Keener is nothing but a scullion, a rampallian, a fustilarian!”

“What's that?”

While Pepper explained Shakespearean insults to Morgan, Peter excused himself with a nod and made straight for the bathroom. He was just one enhanced man, how the hell was he supposed to deal with all this by himself?

Peter: SOS!!!

Ned: what's going on? bombthreat? Doc Ock? alien invasion?

Peter: it's so much worse...

Ned: WHAT IS IT?

Peter: so, last night me and Harley... we made it official

Ned: finally! I'm really happy for you but in what world is that a SOS-situation?

Peter: that friend he told us about, who he got an internship with and stuff?

Ned: yeah?

Peter: Tony. Stark.

Ned: Uff... that couldn't have been fun to explain

Peter: Yeah... we kinda didn't?

Peter: And now I maybe might be hiding in the bathroom because it's so weird

Harley: Are you hiding from me right now?

Peter: And why would I do that?

Peter: And of course, Harley knows I'm hiding from him

Ned: I know this sucks dude but I'm not sure how to help you

Peter: I don't either!!!

Harley: Because you didn't want to tell me that you're family with freaking Ironman?

Peter: Well, neither did you

Harley: Fair enough

Harley: Still no need to hide though, is there?

Ned: kay, listen man: you're gonna go in there, pretend everything's cool and as soon as you got the chance you and Harley talk about how you wanna play this

Ned: got it?

Peter: yes sir

Peter: thanks, you're the best guy in a chair any superhero can have! <3 <3 <3

When he got back into the dining room, Harley greeted Peter with the damnedest smirk, though that was to be expected. What wasn't to be expected, was that there didn't seem to be a single cookie left for him.

“Morgan Hope Stark. Where is my cookie?” He turned to the girl who just did not have a poker face. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyes went wide, when she answered: “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, is this how you want to play it?”, he shot back and glared at her with narrowed eyes. “Pepper, do I have permission to execute 'Operation Truthserum'?”

“No, no, Mummy no!”, she squealed, already shying back, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“You do have my permission”, Pepper nodded and within seconds, Peter grabbed her by the waist, hoisted her over his shoulder and made for the couch, all that accompanied by a steady high-pitched squeal. The worst – for Morgan – was yet to come though. Once she landed on the cushions, the tickle attack started.

“STOP IT PETEY!”, she giggled.

“Will you tell me what happened to my cookie?”

“It wasn't me!”, she made clear looking up with wide eyes.

“Then who was it?”

“I can't say”, she admitted, “I promised!”

“Well, we should always keep the promises we make”, Peter admitted and dropped next to her on the couch. “Then I guess I just have to go to bed without another cookie, because someone over there”, he gestured towards the general direction of the table, “doesn't like me.”

“Oh no!” Morgan seemed to be truly perturbed by the idea that someone might not like Peter, especially since they were all a family. “I think you being sad is worse than breaking a promise”, she eventually decided. “It was Harley. He took your cookie, saying that he was gonna be the better intern anyways.”

“No.” With all the dramatics he could muster up, Peter feigned surprised shock. In reality, he had expected it to be Harley, his revenge for Peter hiding himself away. “How mean! Dad was right, he really is a scullion!”

“Maybe now you can prank him too?”, Morgan suggested, grinning somehow devilishly and adorably at the same time.

“Oh definitely. You gonna help me?”

“Yes!”

“Awesome. Means we already know what we'll do tomorrow.”

“Great, you're still alive”, Tony chuckled, as he made his way over to the couch. “The tortured screams of my beloved offspring suddenly stopped; thought I should make sure that you didn't take down my house or killed each other.” He dropped down between the two, putting an arm around each. “Happy to see you didn't.”

“Not on my first day back”, Peter shrugged and leaned into the hug.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that”, Tony deadpanned. “If you want to, though, we can get more cookies.”

“That's alright”, Peter grinned and winked at Morgan. “I've got something better.”

Looking from Morgan to Peter, Tony remarked: “I don't like that look on your faces one bit.”

“It's ok, daddy”, Morgan assured him, “since you didn't take his cookie, you're not in danger.”

“Oh for the love of Peggy Carter, please tell me you and Harley aren't gonna start a whole rivalry.”

“Because you would never do something like that, would you?”, Peter grinned. “Mr America told me what went on in the early days of the Avengers.”

“Of course he did.” With a scoff, Tony rolled his eyes.

“Why?”, Morgan asked looking from Tony to Peter, “what happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Don't worry”, Peter hissed over Tony's lap to the girl, “I'll tell you later.”

“You will do no such thing”, he made clear, “you're not here to be some irresponsible idiot terrorizing me, my family or my company.”

“You're right, Mr Stark, I'm a responsible young adult, here to do an responsible job and be responsible doing so.”

“Say responsible one more time and I might actually believe you”, came the deadpan response.

Well, then Peter'd give Tony exactly what he asked for. “I will be responsible, conscientious, reliable, dependable, unfailing, trustwor...”

“Yeah, yeah, you proofed your point”, Tony waved him off. “You need a lift home or are you sleeping over?”

“He's sleeping here”, Morgan decided.

“Works for me”, Peter shrugged, “May and Happy are having a date night, I don't need to be a part of that.”

“I know, right?”, Morgan rolled her eyes, “date nights are so gross.”

“I'll remind you of that exact sentence in about 8 years”, Tony made clear and turned to Peter before Mo could argue some more. “Your room's like you left it, at least it should be, I asked Dum-E to clean and I've honestly been too scared to check what he's done to it.”

“That's ok, Pete can sleep in my room.”

“Did you ask your Mum if that's okay?”

“I'm asking you now”, she beamed up.

“Yeah, but you know that Mum is the boss in this house.”

“Fine”, she moaned, jumped off the couch and trotted over to the dinning room.

“I know you don't really have a choice, but you cool with sleeping crammed into a children's princess bed?”

“Two words”, he grinned back. “Makeshift bunk-beds.”

“Oh fuck no”, Tony groaned, “the last time you made beds for you two, it ended with a crash and you dislocating your shoulder.”

Right, Tony might have a point in opposing this idea. Peter making webbing-hammocks was super fun, until one of the supporting webs dissolved too quickly and down they fell. Morgan landed on top of Peter, thusly landing soft enough to break the fall and not getting hurt. Peter wasn't so lucky, but once his shoulder was popped back into place, everything was alright again. And the 'no creating bunk-beds-rule' was put into place.

“Besides”, Tony continued, “I will ground you, no hesitation.”

Yeah, Peter did not doubt that for a second. No matter he was a twenty-one year old fifth-semester student, being grounded was definitely a possibility.

“Mummy said yes!” Squealing loudly and excitedly, Morgan skipped back towards them, followed by Pepper and Harley, albeit a little slower. “You can stay in my room!”

“If it keeps either one from sleeping, that will have been the last time though”, Tony made clear and Harley looked like he had to bite down hard to keep from bursting out laughing as did Pepper.

“Promise, daddy”, Morgan nodded.

“Yeah, dad”, Peter grinned, “we promise.”

“I'll hold you to that”, Tony made clear and waved at the two. “Right then, go and get ready. It's bedtime soon.”

“Sure thing. I'll just go to my room, get my PJs and brush my teeth and I'll be right back up”, he promised the girl and made for the elevator. The doors were just about to close, when a hand stopped it from doing so. Harley's hand. With a grin he walked in and leaned against the wall right opposite Peter.

“So, Peter was it?”, he grinned and, as soon as the doors were closed, he leaned in.

“Wait”, Peter just about managed to get out and looked up at the camera. “FRI, please don't tell anybody what you're about to witness and delete any and all footage of what's about to happen.”

“Of course, Peter.”

He turned back to his wide-eyed boyfriend, who clearly was not yet used to FRIDAY. But that could matter another time. With his hands on Harley's shoulders, Peter leaned in and pressed their lips together.

“Man, I've been wanting to do this all evening...”

“Me too”, Peter nodded, once they broke apart. And just in time at that, with a ding the elevator doors opened.

“Oh would you look at that, your room is right next to mine, what a good thing to know”, Harley smirked and Peter couldn't help his cheeks blushing. Since unfortunately (or in all honesty not very much so) Harley followed Peter into his room, the blush did not die down. “Nice”, he whistled appreciatively, as he took in the pictures of Peter's friends and family, the posters of StarWars and funny science puns. “Kinda looks like your dorm room.”

“I know. Guess that's what you'd call my own personal style”, Peter shrugged, before diving into his closet in search of PJs.

“So”, Harley cleared his throat as he made himself comfortable on Peter's bed. “You're close with Tony. As am I. Something we both decided to keep from each other but well, guess we're even.”

“Fair enough.”

“Why'd you never tell him about me, though?”, he moped. “You told him about Allison...”

“Because”, Peter scoffed as he turned back around to him, “that one date me and Allison have been on was about nine months ago and he still keeps on pestering me about her.”

“Ok yeah, I'll give you that.”

“Another question though: Why are we keeping us from Tony now?” Peter sat himself on the bed just opposite Harley, who scooted close enough for their feet to touch.

“I don't know.”

“I mean, I don't wanna go up to him and say: oh by the way, me and Harley have been doing it for the last month or so and as of yesterday we're actually a couple”, Peter summarized their relationship.

“Yeah, me neither. The mechanic can get intense.”

“As can the Avengers.”

“Besides, since we're working together, things should be kinda professional, right?”

“So you think we should keep this to ourselves?”

“Maybe yes, at least for now”, Harley nodded. “Just until we've figured all this out, you know with working and even kinda living together.”

“Right then. Dating in secret.” Thusly keeping it from Peter's entire extended family. But Harley was right, it was the best thing to do for the time being. Navigating a new relationship was always hard, having Ironman and the Avengers watching your every move while doing so would just make everything so much more challenging.

“If you're not comfortable with that, I get it. We can come clean.” Harley offered him a smile, a beautiful smile and grabbed Peter's hand.

“No, I agree, for now we have enough to figure out on our own. I appreciate it though.”

“Anything for my boyfriend”, Harley grinned and leaned in and Peter was more than happy to close the last bit of distance. And then an arm wrapped itself around his waist and pulled him closer. And before Peter knew it, he and Harley were tangled up on the bed, his hand in Harley's hair, Harley's arms holding him close. It was wonderful and perfect. Until Harley's hand made it's way under Peter's shirt.

“No”, he mumbled, “that's a bad idea.”

“Feels definitely too nice to be a bad idea”, Harley chuckled.

“Amazing is the word I'd have gone with”, Peter grinned leaning back. “That's the issue though. It's kind of like...”

“Like doing it at your dad's”, Harley finished the train of thought.

“Yeah. And I think it wouldn't be as bad, if I didn't have Morgan waiting up there.”

“I do get that”, Harley nodded, “laying in bed with your innocent pseudo-kid-sister after mind-blowing sex with your boyfriend...”

“Someone's having a high opinion of himself”, Peter scoffed as he untangled himself from Harley.

“Oh, but that's not my opinion”, he smirked, rolling onto his stomach and watching every little move of Peter's as he changed into his PJs. “That is something I will forever remember being whispered into my ear.”

Fine, Harley might have a point. Peter wasn't going to give him the satisfaction though and remained as stoic as he could.

“Mhm, gotta say, I do love this show”, Harley commented just before Peter pulled the sleep-shirt over his head. “Who'd've thought that a nerd like you'd be so fit?”

“Well thanks. Not sure what has gone wrong though that you only get that now.” His eyebrow raised, Peter turned back to Harley.

That damn smirk just wouldn't disappear, ever; Peter probably had to resign himself to the fact that his boyfriend would look at him like that all the time from now on until... Well, time would tell. All he had to do now was to find a way to keep from blushing like an idiot every time Harley shot him that infuriatingly sexy grin. “You know, some people have a painting, a movie or something they enjoy so much, they can watch it over and over and over again.” He walked all the way up to Peter and brushed his hands over the now dressed chest and Peter cursed himself for jumping under his boyfriend's touch. “I too have a work of art I like to admire.”

“Shut up”, Peter mumbled, not sure what else to say to that.

“Make me.”

That Peter would. “Sleep well and I'll see you tomorrow”, he mumbled between kisses.

“Yeah, you too.”

“Maybe you could web him to the ceiling?”, Morgan suggested, as they sat over a nice cheerio-breakfast.

“But he doesn't know I'm Spider-Man”, Peter shrugged and with one big sip finished the rest of his hot chocolate.

“It would be such a funny way to tell him, though.”

She might have a point there, if only because Peter should probably tell Harley about his alter ego. As long as they had only been fooling around, it wasn't really anything he even considered. Now that they were dating though... There were already so many secrets surrounding their relationship, they probably shouldn't have any secrets between the two of them.

“How about for now we find a revenge plan that doesn't involve superpowers?”

“You're boring.” With Tony-levels of dramatics, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Ok, I promise we can do your idea once Harley found out about it.”

“Found out about what?” Harley walked into the kitchen, eyeing him curiously. A bit of a flirty glint in his eyes mixed with plenty of curiosity, he sat himself opposite Peter.

Fuck. With the heat, the blush rose in Peter's face and he just locked eyes with Morgan, who just shrugged.

“Idagit idagis idaga sidigedigret.”

“Idagi knodogow”, Morgan answered, “whaddagat doddogo yagidou wagidant toddogo tagitell hidagim?”

“You guys seriously have a secret language?”

“Are you actually surprised?”, Peter shot over before turning back to Morgan. “Widage cadagan juddugust pragitend nodogothidaging hadagappidagened adigand stadigay quidagiet. Thadigat coddogool?”

“Toddogotagidally.”

With a self-satisfied grin, Peter and Morgan nodded at each other before turning to Harley. “So, what's up?”, Peter beamed at his boyfriend, who looked like he wasn't sure he really wanted to be here and witness whatever was happening between the pseudo-siblings. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah. Not sure you are, but from what I've seen it doesn't seem too unusual.”

“No, not really”, Peter nodded in agreement. “Well, me and Morgan were just gonna head over and get some more cookies, since for some unexplainable reasons I never got one last night.”

Harley met Peter's challenging stare head-on as he smirked: “yeah, that is indeed weird.”

“Whoever did that will have to pay dearly”, Peter made clear, blushing ever so slightly, when Harley bit his lip. “Oh that poor soul.” And here Peter was, caught and losing himself in Harley's eyes, shining brighter than the biggest arc reactor.

“Can we go get cookies now?”, Morgan, who Peter might have momentarily forgotten was sitting right beside them, interrupted them making eyes at each other.

“Yes, definitely”, he nodded, happy to be interrupted just in time before things would become uncomfortably heated.

“Can I come too?”

Morgan just skipped over, grabbed Harley's hand and held her free one out to Peter. “Let's get ready to cookie!”

“Peter, can you come here for a moment?”

Oh, that couldn't be good. For about two weeks Peter and Harley's prank war had been going on and there was everything from cling wrap on the toilet to pink colour in the shampoo; from changing ringtones and contact names to putting all of Harley's furniture on the roof (thank you spider-strength!) there wasn't a prank they didn't go through with. And now Harley calling him into the common room? Peter's spider-sense didn't tingle, but that didn't mean anything.

“What's up?” Carefully, Peter put his head through the door, but Harley was doing was sitting on the couch.

“I need your brain”, he sighed, barely looking up. “As much as I hate to admit it, you're smarter than me.”

“Huh...” Something was up, Peter didn't need spider-senses to tell him that. “Why are you being nice?”

“You don't trust me?” With the fakest pained expression, Harley clutched his chest. “I am a nice person that currently needs your help!”

“Alright...” With every careful step, Peter took a good look around the room again. Nat and Wanda were sitting in the corner, biting down their grins at the scene in front of them. Well, those two weren't going to be any help... With as much distance between him and Harley as possible, Peter sat himself opposite on the couch. “What's up then?”

“This damn thing here.” What he held out to Peter looked like a remote. Spider-senses didn't pick anything up, so he carefully reached out for it and took it in his hand. At first glance nothing seemed to be wrong with it.

“What's broken about it then?”

“No idea”, Harley shrugged. “I can't figure it out...”

“Did you forget to change the batteries?”, Peter rolled his eyes.

“I'm not that dumb”, Harley made clear.

“You sure?” Peter was only riling him up and, extra slowly and showy, he checked the batteries. Well, wanted to.

Behind him loud cries and screams that could wake the dead had him jump; as he turned all he made out was a distinctly goblin-shaped figure. Without thinking about it, his instincts took over and within moments he jumped up on the ceiling and shot webs at everything that moved.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Pete, it's just me”, Clint groaned in a weird green get up with fake muscles, a purple unitard-thingy and hat; all that covered in webs.

“What the fuck, Clint?”, Peter yelled, “how do you get the idea to walk around dressed like THAT and not get webbed? Seriously, you're lucky I didn't punch you.”

“Wasn't my idea”, Clint defended himself and with his stuck arms he gestured vaguely towards the couch, where Peter only now remembered his boyfriend sitting. His boyfriend, who didn't know Peter was Spider-Man. His boyfriend who looked up at Peter, whiter than a sheet of paper and his jaw somewhere on the ground.

Oh fuck.

“Uhm, Harley? You alright?” Since there was clearly no greater threat than Harley breaking up with Peter for lying to him, Peter lowered himself on a web, until he and his hopefully still boyfriend were eye to eye.

“You... You... You're Spider-Man.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Ok...”, he nodded, though clearly it was anything but ok. “Ok”, he repeated shaking his head and got up off the couch.

“Harley?”

“Ok.” With a smile, that looked almost manic, he looked around the room, where not only Peter but also Nat, Wanda and the Clint Goblin were quite worried. “Ok!” And out the door he went.

“Right, this is not what I thought would happen when I agreed to prank you”, Clint made clear. “You can still unstick me, though.”

“Nah”, Peter, Nat and Wanda agreed. “You deserve this.”

“Someone should check on Harley, though...”

“I'm on it”, Peter nodded and, after shooting Clint one more middle finger for this fucking idiotic idea of dressing up as his arch-nemesis (Well, one of them. But thanks to Harry there was more than enough emotional baggage attached and Clint quite frankly should know so much fucking better), he headed out and for Harley's room.

“You wanna talk about it?” Peter put his head through the ajar door to Harley's room, where his boyfriend was currently sitting on the bed, staring at the blank wall.

“I don't know”, he shrugged, still focusing on the wall in front of him. “I mean...”

“I'm really sorry.” With his apology, Peter slipped into the room and leaned against the now closed door. “I just... I've been planning the perfect way to tell you for these last two weeks, but I guess that didn't really work out...”

“Oh really?” Dripping with sarcasm, Harley rolled his eyes before finally turning to Peter. “You didn't plan on telling me by screaming bloody murder before jumping up and sticking yourself to the ceiling and webbing Hawkeye?”

“Believe it or not, but no I didn't...”

“I guess it explains, why none of my pranks really worked against you.”

“Sorry, super-hearing, strength and spider-senses do not really make for a levelled playing field.”

“No kidding”, Harley snorted.

Peter shuffled over and kneeled on the foot of the bed. “Can I somehow make this better or up to you?”

“Dude, I'm not mad”, Harley made clear, “not really at least. We've been dating for what, two weeks? It's not like I was about to propose to you. I'm just... surprised, that's all.”

“I get that. Anything you need to let out or ask or anything like that, just...” Peter held his arms out, “let it out.”

“I've seen Spider-Man naked.” As realization hit with Harley, Peter just burst out with laughter. “That's your take-away?”

“I feel like that's a big deal”, he nodded as the grin spread over his own face. “I mean, who can say that? I'm also the only one who gets to kiss Spider-Man, anytime I want to.”

“That is in fact a pretty big deal”, Peter smirked, “from what I've heard Spidey's an amazing kisser and incredible in bed.”

“As much as I'd love to argue that, they're true facts.” And with that, Harley leaned closer and pressed their lips together. “Omigod, I'm kissing Spider-Man”, he mumbled without breaking away.

“Seriously?”, Peter deadpanned, “do I have to expect that every time we kiss from now on? Because I don't know if...”

“Shut up, Spider-Man and let me kiss you.”

“WHERE IS HE?” Yelling at the top of his lungs, Peter stormed through the compound. Oh, he's done it, Harley's gone too far.

In the common room, he was only met with five pairs of eyes on him. “Who's he?”

“Harley”, Peter hissed, “where is he?”

“Last I heard he was in the lab with Stark”, Nat answered, eyeing him curiously. “And I'd assume that your prank war has reached its inevitable climax?”

“Let's just say, he's gonna pay.” Without an explanation or gracing the Avengers with another glance, Peter turned on his heel and stormed off towards the lab.

How the fuck did that damn idiot think it would be ok to mess with Peter's suit?

“HARLEY KEENER!”, he cried out, before he got even through the lab doors.

Just in time, he saw him diving behind Tony for safety, which was quite futile; not even Ironman could save Harley from Peter's wrath.

“Pete, please, I thought we agreed to keep your stupid rivalry out of my workshop”, Tony groaned.

Peter completely ignored Tony and stared right at where his boyfriend peeked out from behind him. “You've gone to far.”

“What did you do?” Peter was pretty sure, Tony didn't really want to know or even cared what Harley had done, but was that type of tired Dad, who just wanted some peace and quiet.

“He did THIS!” Ever since Peter had noticed the writing on the back of his spider-suit, he had worn a hoodie to hide it. Now he unzipped it and turned to Tony, so he too could read what all of New York now knew.

“Jar Jar Binks wasn't so bad”, Tony read and Peter heard Harley's failed attempt at hiding his giggles. “Pete, I'm with you on this one, a hundred percent, but please”, he pleaded, “even though he would deserve it, don't toss Harley to the Sinister Six.”

“You just wait, Keener”, Peter growled, “you'll regret the day, you decided to turn Spider-Man into the menace The Daily Bugle always said he was.” Not giving Harley the chance to ridicule him any more, Peter turned on his heel and stomped out.

“Please don't talk about yourself in the third person”, was the last thing he heard Tony groan, before the elevator doors closed.

There really was only one thing he could do. And, as much as Tony would hate it, Harley turning Peter into a fucking Jar Jar Binks stan was so much worse than anything Peter could come up with. But he'd need help for that, since Harley wasn't dumb enough to be alone with Peter.

Thankfully, there was the world's best sidekick.

“Hi Pepper”, he greeted her, when the elevator door to the penthouse opened, “is Morgan back from school yet?”

“Not yet, she has soccer training.”

“Right, it's Tuesday”, Peter remembered. Given that he was a currently employed worker at one of this country's most prestigious companies, he really was as clueless as they come.

“Can I help you out with what I'm assuming is your revenge plan to get back at Harley for what he pulled earlier? It's on twitter”, Pepper explained, before Peter could ask how she knew about it.

“Of fucking course it is.” With a groan, Peter fell on the couch.

“I'm sorry, kid.” Sitting next to him, she patted his shoulder. “This really must suck. Now, I usually don't condone these kind of things, but this whole prank war just has to end. So I'm gonna help you with one last stint and then it's all over, alright?”

“You'd really do that?”, he beamed over. Him and Pepper co-planning a prank? Screw intern at SI, that's what needed to be put on Peter's curriculum vitae!

“I guess you already know what you want to do, but need somebody to lure Harley wherever you need him to be.”

“Exactly.”

“Right then. What do you need from me?”

After Peter had stormed out of the lab, Tony decided it probably be best to just ignore the whole thing. As horrible as what Harley had done to Peter was, they were both adults and Tony was not gonna do that to himself and meddle with them. So back to work they went, until FRIDAY's voice ripped them away from it. “Harley, Pepper asks that you please come up to the penthouse, there is a form she needs you to sign.”

“Like right now?”

“Yes please, it'll only take a moment.”

“Fine”, he shrugged, put the screwdriver down and made for upstairs.

Three minutes passed, then five, then ten, but Harley didn't come back down. Damnit. This just screamed revenge. Did Tony really want to know what was going on? No, not really. Then why the fuck did he put down his tools and go up to the penthouse?

“Pep? Harley?”, he called out when he got into the empty living room.

“MHMMHM!” Those muffled cries came from just above him. And even though Tony knew exactly what he would see there, he still jumped a bit in surprise to find Harley, webbed to the ceiling, including a web covering up his mouth.

“Oh for fuck's sake”, Tony grumbled. “Where's Pete or my wife?”

“Over here”, Pepper called, as she and Peter carried a mattress over to put right under Harley.

“Just in case”, Peter explained, “I do plan on catching him once the webs dissolve.” Once they placed the mattress, Peter climbed up, hovering right by Harley's face. “Ok, this is a bit of a dick move, so I'll just take this off.” With careful movements, Peter dissolved the web over Harley's face.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you absolute fucker”, Harley eventually groaned, once he could speak again.

“I hate to say this, but you do deserve it”, Tony shrugged. “And how the hell did Pete rope you in, darling?”

“I didn't have to”, Peter chirped from his place on the ceiling, “she offered her help.”

“My, my”, he grinned and put his arm around Pepper, who smiled right back.

“Look, I found some more pillows!”, Morgan giggled, as she skipped over. She literally could not have been home longer than maybe ten minutes, she still was in full soccer gear. Looks like they practised outside today, judging from the grass and dirt stains all over the light blue uniform. “Hi daddy!”, she beamed, as she went straight for the safety cushion on the ground. “Look, Pete, finally did my idea!”

“That was your idea? Wow, the women in my life are really a lot more devious than I previously though...”

“Yes”, she grinned proudly. “And now Harley has to promise that the pranking is over.”

“Peter did just as many pranks as me”, Harley protested, “so he should have to promise too.”

“Fine”, Peter shrugged, “I hereby promise that this was my last prank of this war.”

“Right, I promise not to avenge my being used as a candelabra.”

“Great”, Pepper smiled, “my work here is done. Honey, how about we let the kids be and get a cup of coffee?” She held her hand out and there was nothing in the world that could be nicer than to take it and let her pull him away from all this chaos and the wonderfulness that was a date with his wife.

What the fuck was Professor Smythe's problem? Seriously, he and Jameson's obsession with building robots that could end Peter was ridiculous. The current Spider-Slayer (oh, how much he HATED that name) was naturally too slick for Peter or his webs to stick, but he hadn't expected anything less. It also had some damn web-shooters, could climb up walls and some kind of energy beam or pulse gun, that could knock a statue off its pedestal. Peter definitely was not in the mood to find out what it could do to him.

Maybe he could fry the system? He had never tried it with any of the Slayers before, but that seemed to be the best thing to do to a) have a chance of defeating it and b) get it away from civilians. So that's what he did. Bungee-jumping off Brooklyn Bridge, the bot followed him right away. Coming out of the water again, Peter perched himself on the balustrade, waiting whether his hunch proofed right.

And of course it didn't. Well then, let the cat-and-mouse-games continue. Peter had to admit, his manoeuvrers did grow more and more dangerous, but there just had to be a twist or turn too fast for the damn thing, so it'd crash and hopefully break on the concrete.

“Mr Stark is calling”, KAREN announced just as Peter landed a quite formidable hit, if he dare say so himself.

“I'm kinda busy”, he hissed, ducking just in time to get one of these metallic legs to the stomach and webbed himself up a skyscraper; which exactly it was he didn't really have the chance to make out and besides, he really didn't care at the moment.

“I know”, came Tony's voice. “You need support?”

“Thanks”, he shot back, rolling his eyes that of course Tony had his tracker, location and what not pulled up. “I can handle it.”

“No doubts there. Just offering that you don't have to.”

“Appreciate it.” Perching himself on the roof's edge, he had just enough time for a short breather, when that Slayer crawled right up there. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Jameson or Smythe, whoever is in charge of this right now: Really? Another Slayer? Haven't you learned your lessons the last umpteen times?”

“Kiddo, don't engage with the villains, just beat them.” Peter could practically hear Tony rolling his eyes, but he wasn't going to let Ironman tell him how to fight his rogues and was happy to ignore him.

Since the Spider-Slayer didn't answer, Peter concluded that it couldn't hear, or speak. Because Jameson would not let himself get taunted like this without shooting back.

With one quite impressive jump, Peter landed right behind the thing and, before it could turn and defend itself, landed a wonderful hit, that almost send it flying off the roof. “Take that!”

“Seriously?”

“Shut up, Mr Stark, I have to concentrate.”

“Oh, so it's Mr Stark again?”

“Yes”, Peter just made clear, and jumped up just in time to avoid getting hit by one robotic arm, and landing right in the next one. And shit, that hurt. “Fuck!”, he cried out. “Don't do that, you dumb slayer, that's how people get hurt!”

“Who got hurt?” Great, now Harley got in the mix as well. Tony must have their conversation on speaker in the lab.

“Apparently Peter is. What the hell is going on?”

“I got it handled, damnit!”, he groaned and in all the frustration of being punched in front of an audience, he even got a few good hits in, leaving wonderful dents in the admittedly quite hard metal. “BAM!”

Peter's cocky joy about hitting that thing didn't last too long though. The bot turned, set up for a punch, but not fast enough for Peter's spider-senses. Turns out, his early warning system wasn't really alerting him to the punch though; in avoiding getting hit, Peter jumped right into that fucking energy beam, and before he really knew it happened, he found himself blasted off the roof and falling towards the busy streets with an unfortunately not all that manly scream.

“Kid, what the fuck?”

“What's going on?”

Somehow in his deathly panic, he could make out Tony and Harley's concerned voices over the speakers, but him saving his own life was more important right now. Shooting webs and swinging to the safety of a few rooftops over wasn't that difficult, though saying it wasn't a scaring shock would be a lie.

“FUCKING ANSWER ME!”, Tony cried out, and only now Peter remembered to maybe console his father figure and his boyfriend.

“I'm alright”, he assured them.

“Good, cause if you die, I'm gonna kill you”, Harley made clear.

No, Peter had other things to deal with right now; his distraught boyfriend could wait. “FRIDAY, please take care of Tony and Harley, but I'd much rather deal with this armed-to-the-teeth killer-robot that was especially designed to kill me, than with them being hysteric.”

“What do you mean, especially designed to kill you?”

“Talk to you later, bye!”, he chirped. “KAREN, hang up please and keep either from calling me.”

“Call ended.”

“Thanks, K, you're the best. Now. The Slayer. If we go to The Daily Bugle HQ, we could baseball that sonofabitch with the Jameson statue they have out front. Do you think that'd piss him sufficiently off?”

“I assume yes”, she answered, “but it would also aggravate Jameson a lot more.”

“K, I've literally done nothing to the man, and he's paying a mad scientist to build killer-robots. I don't think there's much more aggravation possible.”

“You might have a point”, she admitted.

“Thanks. Right then, let's flatten this thing!”

The hardest part about swinging to The Bugle was avoiding that damn impulse beam. It almost blasted Peter out of the sky twice, and thanks to that fucking gun, his landing in front of The Bugle was unfortunately not as much of a landing, as him being smacked against the building. Ouch. That was gonna be beautifully blue and purple.

“Jameson, now you might hear me”, Peter cried out, circling that damn thing. “I honestly believe in nothing less than doing what's right, which is helping out the people of New York. And if all I do for the rest of my days is stop car thieves or pick pockets, help elderly people over the street or help some poor tourists, that got lost in the city then I'm happy to do just that. I don't understand your hatred of me, but well, if you so clearly need to loathe me, let me at least give you a proper reason to do so.”

With all his strength, he ripped the statue of his nemesis out of its plinth and brought it down on the robot.

“You think that did it?”, he whispered, as he waited for that thing to move again.

“My scanners show no signs of any activity”, she reported. “It seems you have successfully destroyed the Spider-Slayer and given Jameson more than enough reasons to hate you.”

“Yeah, I'm already looking forward to tomorrows Bugle”, he scoffed and, after making sure that none of the civilians standing around were hurt, he took off again.

“I suggest that you make your way back to the compound. You have taken a few bad hits and even with your enhanced healing you'll take a while to completely recuperate.”

Sure, KAREN had a point, a very good point, since everything, really everything hurt like hell. But if he went back there now, he'd have Tony and Harley to deal with and that was nothing he was really in the mood for. Then again... “I assume if I don't do so, Tony will come and pick me up.”

“According to FRIDAY, he gives you thirty seconds to make your way to the compound or he will do exactly that.”

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do”, he groaned. “The compound it is, then.”

“Oh, I'm gonna kill you!” Peter was barely through the doors, when both Tony and Harley stormed towards him.

“Back off”, he made clear. “I am not in the mood.”

Funnily enough, both shied back a bit. “But you will go to the medbay now, that is an order”, Tony made clear.

“Gladly”, Peter sighed and pulled his mask off. Judging from the way Harley gasped and Tony's face fell, he had quite the bruise there. In all honesty, Peter wasn't sure what was injured and what wasn't, everything just hurt. Not just physically, but... Smythe and JJJ really hated Peter. No, hate was probably not strong enough a word for it. Besides the point that Peter couldn't imagine hating anybody to that much a degree that you actually wanted them dead and did everything in your power to actually kill them, it was them hating Peter for no real reason. They didn't even know Spider-Man, all they knew was that he had superpowers. And it scared them so much that it didn't matter what he did; it didn't matter how often he saved New York or the world, they were gonna hate him.

“Impressive speech, kiddo”, Bruce praised him, as he gave Peter the once-over.

“Thanks”, he mumbled, but didn't manage more than a half-hearted smile.

“You know why you are so much more amazing than Jameson will ever be?”, Bruce remarked, as he got some lotion out of a cupboard. He didn't wait for Peter to ask why, he continued right away: “you let love lead your every move, your every decision. And that is so damn hard to do. Letting fear be your motivator, well, do that and you end up like Jameson, or Smythe... or me. Don't look so shocked”, he chuckled, “me and Hulk went through a lot of emotional turmoil, we hated each other like JJJ hates you. And for the longest time I ran from that exact fear. It took the idiots in this building to help me see that fear isn't the way to go and it was a damn long process. But you... You didn't need to learn that, did you? I know you went through so much shit in your quite short life, but still, you have the biggest heart, you fight for the little guy. And that's why Spider-Man is New York's favourite superhero.”

Peter was honestly floored. All he could do was look at Bruce Banner, the amazing scientist, his idol he looked up to so much, wide eyed and mouth gaping open. Thankfully, the doctor played over it, put a last bit of the lotion on Peter's shoulder, before motioning for him to put his shirt on again.

“Right then. Take it easy, alright? It unfortunately shows that that robot was designed to purposely hurt you. There are no severe injuries, but you're skin's more blue than white.”

“Yeah, I feel that.”

“I bet. So, doctor's orders are to be pampered for the next two days.”

“That I can do”, Peter grinned, probably somewhat crookedly since his face was kinda messed up.

“Good. And as usual, if Tony gets too much, I can always put you in a calm and quiet quarantine.”

“Thanks, you're the best.” It was more limping than walking, but Peter made his way out of the medbay. But, just before the door closed behind him, he turned one more time. “Oh, and Bruce?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Thanks. For the talk. Means the world.”

“Anytime, kid”, he smiled and waved after Peter, as he made his way to the penthouse, where he was already awaited by Tony, Pepper, Harley, Morgan and by now also May and Happy had arrived. Yup, Peter was definitely going to need Bruce's offer of quarantining him if he wanted only five minutes by himself.

“I'll live”, he greeted his distraught family. “Doctor's orders are to be pampered for the next two days”, he explained as he made his way to the couch and got to get off his feet.

And then the circus started. Immediately everybody crowded him, offered tea, hot chocolate, sweets and so much more. The only time they left his side was when he had to go to the bathroom and even then he had to argue for five minutes that he was able to make it there by himself. Eventually, he just got to lay on the couch with his head on May's lap. And, while his aunt's fingers brushed through his hair, Morgan read him some pirate story. The decision to sleep over at the compound was seconded by everybody present and, while everybody offered to stay with him in his room, Peter was not so much convinced by that. “I am 21 years old, I think I can spend the night. It's not like I've never been hurt before and I've already weathered much worse injuries with a lot less care.”

Not that anybody was happy about the statement, but they at least let him be. After three extra good-night-kisses from Morgan, May insisted on walking him to his room at least.

“I'm sorry”, she remarked as they walked along the corridor in silence.

“What for?”

“That there are people out there trying to harm you”, May sighed and pulled him a bit closer. “And I'm so incredibly proud how you're dealing with this.” When he looked over, he saw her smiling at him, albeit teary-eyed. “You don't vow revenge, you don't go after Jameson and fine, you did destroy his statue earlier, but you don't let the hatred consume you like it consumes him. That is pure Ben, right there. I just know he is sitting up there on a cloud and is so damn proud of the man you're turning out to be.”

“That's thanks to you both”, Peter made clear and leaned into the embrace. “I larb you.”

“Oh honey”, she laughed and put a kiss on his cheek. “I larb you, too.”

Harley: You already sleeping?

Peter: come over

“Hey.” Almost quietly, Harley slipped into Peter's room. “I'm not gonna ask how you're feeling, because I do not want to be shot the death glare to end all death glares”, he made clear as he made himself comfortable just beside Peter.

“Thanks”, he laughed, “I appreciate that. I do feel the need to ask you how you're doing, though. You've been suspiciously quiet and withdrawn ever since I've come out of the medbay.”

“Yeah... It's just... Until today I didn't get what you being Spider-Man actually means. Up until this afternoon it was just the fact that you've got superpowers and run around the city in spandex. It never occurred to me that you're actually putting yourself in harm's way, fighting supervillains and actually getting hurt.” Gently he stroked Peter's cheek, careful not to touch the bruise. “And the feeling to sit here, listening to you getting beaten up, thrown of a building all the while there's nothing I can do... It's just horrible.”

Peter scooted a little closer and grabbed Harley's hand. “I would love to say I understand, but I don't; I only know the other side. It's like... Being able to do things like that, I have the responsibility to use these powers, you know? Because if there's something happening that I could have stopped, but I didn't...”

“I get that”, Harley nodded and squeezed Peter's hand. The fact that that hurt like hell, Peter didn't try to let on, there was a more urgent matter to be dealt with. “It's so noble and one of the things that are really so damn amazing about you. It's just so horrible to helplessly sit back and have to watch while the guy you love does stuff like this.”

“The guy you what now?” All bruises, injuries and contusions were forgotten as Peter stared at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Did he mishear him or did Harley actually use the L-word?

The way Harley blushed, he probably heard the right thing. “Uhm yeah. The guy I love”, he repeated. “That's you, by the way”, he eventually remarked, when Peter just silently stared at him.

“That's me”, Peter parroted, as his stupidly slow brain tried to compute what was currently happening right in front of him.

“I'm happy to draw you a picture”, Harley snorted. “Yeah, so I have been thinking this for a while now, but today kinda made it clear for me. And if you don't feel like that or don't want to say anything that's cool, we can just...”

“Shut up, Keener.” Peter just cupped Harley's face and pulled him in for a kiss. A fantastic kiss; not even the pain in Peter's everything mattered. “I love you, too”, he smiled, once he broke away.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

How much longer they were lost in their embrace and kisses, Peter had no idea. He didn't care, either, because it was just too damn perfect.

“Stay here, please”, he eventually whispered, when the tiredness was close to take over.

“I wasn't planning on going anywhere”, Harley chuckled and safely enveloped in his boyfriend's arms who he loved and who loved him too, Peter fell asleep with the widest smile.

“So, Pete and Harley are awfully close”, Nat remarked and, if you didn't know her like Clint did, you'd easily miss the smirk she tried to hide as she took a sip from her coffee.

“Wait, they are?”, Steve asked.

“Oh, you sweet summer child”, Clint giggled, “yes, they are. Either their boning or they really, really want to.”

“Seriously, Cap, how you managed to land Barnes is really a mystery to me, given your perception of human emotions.”

“Hey”, he defended himself, “that's not fair.”

“Clint has a point, though”, Bucky snorted, “took you what, ninety years to ask me out?”

With Steve blushing in slight embarrassment, the rest of the Avengers started laughing. “Better late than never, right?”, Rogers eventually shrugged, and leaned over to press a kiss on Bucky's cheek.

“Good for you. Doubt Peter and Harley have a century to figure this out though”, Nat brought the conversation back to the topic at hand.

“So you think we should interfere?”

“Not interfere”, she made clear. “But how about a nudge in the right direction?”

“Ok, I need to ask you something.” Pepper had made it barely into bed, when Tony blurted out.

“What's up?”

“Is it my imagination or is there something going on between Harley and Peter?” Tony has had this thought for a while now, he'd almost call what they did flirting. And it freaked him out to no end.

“Welcome to the party”, Pepper chuckled as she settled into her pillows. “The Avengers have been gossiping about it for weeks. And so has half of SI.”

“Oh.” That was only slightly embarrassing. But then again, those two were his mentees, in this weird fatherly relationship romantic entanglements it wasn't exactly what he focused on when spending time with his pseudo-sons.

“But, before you go into action mode”, Pepper threw in, putting her hand over his, “let those two work through it themselves. If something really is there, they need to recognize it on their own and not because you or the Avengers told them about it.”

“Yeah, you're right.”

“I always am”, she smiled and, after a good-night-kiss, she snuggled to his side.

“Sleep well, honey.”

“Pete, just hear me out”, Clint tried to appease him, “Tasha says that this guy is really nice and definitely good enough for you.”

“Good for him”, Peter shot back, “but I don't need you to set me up on a surprise blind date!”

“Well, yeah, because if it weren't surprise you wouldn't have come”, he shrugged and pushed Peter onto a barstool. “Please, just give it a try. You can web my bow and arrow to the roof of the compound if it's a bust, alright?”

“Fine”, Peter groaned, if only to get this over with and to tell whoever was apparently perfect for Peter that unfortunately he was not interested; he just loved his boyfriend too much. At least Peter wouldn't have to worry about his boyfriend getting jealous or come to any false conclusions; Harley was so going to laugh at Peter, when he'd message him later.

“Great”, Clint chirped, “I'll leave you be then. He should be here any moment, and you can thank me later.” With a damn infuriating grin, Hawkeye all but skipped out of the bar, leaving Peter by himself. Awesome.

What was he supposed to tell this dude? He couldn't tell him that Peter already had a boyfriend, because then Nat'd know, then Clint'd know and then all the Avengers would know.

And the excuse that Peter just wasn't interested in dating at the moment wouldn't really count either, would it?

Well, if that stranger was as cool as Tasha had made him out to be, at least Peter'd have a fun evening, and maybe even make a new friend.

“Uhm, hey Peter.” Harley was the last person Peter expected to hear and the last person he wanted to see five minutes before he was supposed to be on a date.

Beet-red he turned to his boyfriend. “Harley, hey. What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, so funny story”, he harrumphed as he sat next to Peter. “A beer, please”, he ordered before turning to Peter, who already had a coke in front of him. (Why drink alcohol, when it didn't really do anything?) “So, please don't freak, but I kinda am supposed to be on a date right now...”

Oh fuck no.

“Did Nat by any chance set you up for that?”

“Oh what the fuck”, Harley's face fell. “Please don't tell me you're that friend of Clint's who would be just perfect for me?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, processing what was currently going on, before bursting into laughter.

“This is such a mess”, Peter eventually got out. “Against my will I'm being set up on a blind date. With my boyfriend.”

“How weird, I'm in the exact same situation”, Harley grinned and after thanking the bartender, took a generous sip from his beer. “At least I can get drunk to deal with it...”

“Yeah, stomaching that we're apparently the epitome of gossip and in dire need to be set up would be a lot easier with alcohol... Begs the question though: where do we go from here? Do we come out?”

“Honestly, when they're already being that... I don't know, intrusive when they think we're not even together, how you think they're gonna react when we actually are an official couple?”

Harley had a damn point. “Keeping things professional would get a lot harder, too.”

“Yeah. So what, tell them that their genius plan failed?”

“Maybe we should put it one step further”, Peter grinned, when THE idea hit him. “We just tell them that we were stood up, but thankfully had the other's company, making it clear that we didn't even think of each other romantically, you know?”

“Mhm, I gotta be honest though”, Harley grinned, “it's gonna be pretty hard spending tonight, not keeping on replaying what you look like underneath that nice shirt.”

“Dude”, Peter hissed and felt the blush get more and more intense.

“I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“I can just get up and go, tell Clint that this was a disaster”, Peter made clear.

“It admittedly kinda is”, Harley shrugged. “Or at least it will be once we run back to them, tears streaming down about the horrible people that treated us so damn...”

“Atrocious? Grieveous? Heinous? Evil?”, Peter suggested with a smirk.

“Damnit, why you gotta be so smart”, he groaned, taking another sip. “It's seriously hot.”

“Well, thank you”, Peter grinned, “I do my best.”

“Well, hi there Peter. Harley. How was your evening?”

When walking into the common room the next day, they were met with way too many smug grins directed at them.

“Clint, you'll find your bow and quiver webbed to the roof”, Peter fake-smiled.

“What?” His face fell.

“Didn't you like him?”, Nat inquired.

“How should I know?”, Harley shot back, “he never showed up!”

“Yes, you two really picked some winners”, Peter scoffed, trying his all to stay in character. “At least Harley was there, so I didn't sit around all by myself.”

“WHAT?”, Clint cried out.

“Omigod, you're more clueless than Steve”, Bucky groaned, earning him a 'HEY!” and a box to the arm from his boyfriend.

“You literally went home together”, Nat recapped what she and Clint witnessed them doing. Of course they were camped out in front of the bar and followed them home.

“Harley and me? Yeah, once it was clear that nobody was gonna show up, Harley came by my place to play Mario Kart. At which, might I add, I sufficiently kicked his ass”, he added with the triumphant smirk, he's been wearing ever since last night. Admittedly, it wasn't the only thing they did; once May sent them to bed, there was a lot of making-out involved. That was nothing the Avengers needed to know, though.

“Pete, Harley. They set the two of you up”, Tony made clear, walking in behind the couple.

“Wait, what?” Wide-eyed they both turned to Tony and Peter just hoped to whoever was listening that they could manage to keep up the charade.

“You tried to set me and Peter up?” If he didn't know the ploy, Harley's weirded out tone would be downright insulting.

“Yeah”, Clint nodded, “is that so far-fetched?”

No, not at all, since they were actually in love.

“I honestly never considered it”, Peter lied, hopefully good enough that a bunch of super spies would believe him.

“Seriously?”, Wanda questioned him, “you two've been flirting pretty much ever since you arrived.”

“Oh, ok”, Harley shrugged, seemingly pulling off this whole indifference-towards-the-other-thing a lot easier than Peter. Huh. Interesting...

“You can't tell me you didn't notice.” Tasha didn't buy a word of it, Peter could see it in the way she glinted over at him.

“Guys, we're co-workers, literally. There's this thing called professionalism and I know most of you have never heard of it, but it does matter, especially, when our degrees are on the line, so no, we didn't consider anything.”

“Who the hell sits at MIT, worrying about their interns getting together? Besides, Tony and Pepper? Steve and Barnes? Wanda and Vision?”

“The only person in that group of people I'd call responsible is Pepper”, Peter made clear.

“Fair enough”, Steve shrugged, “but you see, it can work out.” He gestured between himself and Bucky, who was sprawled out over Steve's lap, shooting them two thumbs up.

“Ok, I'm really over this conversation”, Peter decided, since he could feel himself breaking any moment now. “Harley. Would you just go on a damn date with me so they all shut the fuck up?”

“Language!”

“I'm an adult and Morgan's not around, so I can fucking swear however the fuck much I fucking want to”, Peter shot back at his mentor, before turning to his boyfriend. “So, what do you say?”

“Fine, let's get this over with”, Harley rolled his eyes.

“And they say romance is dead”, Tony cooed, then shook his head. “You are both ridiculous.”

“I gotta admit, this is pretty nice”, Peter smiled, as Harley pulled back the chair for him. “Thanks.”

“You're absolutely welcome”, he beamed and sat himself right opposite him. “To be honest, the nicest part about this is the Avengers offering to pay, to make up for their meddling.”

“Definitely. I never would have come here otherwise, too scared of the pricetag and the fanciness.”

“So, this isn't a place you'd take your boyfriend to?”, Harley smirked.

“Definitely not”, Peter made clear. “I'll show you another time what I understand under the perfect date.”

“Can't wait.”

As they waited for their seriously overpriced food, Peter took the place in. He and Harley took down the average age by at least twenty years; there was only one more couple that looked to be around their age. How the fuck did Tony get the idea to send them here? With his metabolism, they were definitely going to have to stop by a taco truck or a burger place later, no way he could eat all he needed to here. He also couldn't wait to get out of this damn shirt. May forced it on him, since they obviously needed to look the part, but that tie felt like it was strangling Peter and he was in all honesty scared to move, so the shirt wouldn't crinkle.

“Do you want to get out of here?”, Harley whispered over, as Peter picked around in his salad.

“That would be totally impolite, though”, he hissed back.

“We could fake an emergency”, Harley shrugged. “Can't your spider-senses make something up?”

“That's not how this works”, Peter deadpanned. “Come on, we're doing this for the Avengers, remember?”

“Yeah, you're right. But just looking at you, I want to rip that damn shirt off you, and not for sexy reasons. You look seriously uncomfortable.”

“Lived through worse”, he shrugged. “Other note. Are we publicly dating as of tomorrow?”

“Now, I know the Avengers not as well as you do, but I think that if we were, there'd be an endless tirade of 'we told you so' and a constant need to be involved.”

“Apt assessment”, Peter nodded. “How do we keep that from happening, though?”

“Hm.” They sat in silence while pondering their options. “How about we tell them it went horribly, can't stand each other from now on and they might feel bad enough to leave us alone?”

That could actually work. Only issue... “Will you be able to pretend you can't stand me, even though you perpetually undress me in your mind?”, Peter smirked and got the expected deadpan in return. “Ha, ha.”

“I'm serious”, he continued, “you'll have to constantly suppress your yearning for my body, the admiration for me, my mind and that can't be easy.”

“Trust me, Peter darling, it's getting easier by the second.”

Harley: Made it home alright?

Peter: Yup, only had two burgers along the way

Peter: Seriously, that restaurant is nothing for people who are actually hungry

Harley: True that

Harley: I raided the entire snack cabinet here and am now sprawled out on the bed, surrounded by chocolate and cookies *heart eyes*

Peter: Nice!

Harley: Oh yeah. Different note, though. I was obviously anxiously awaited once I got back to the compound

Peter: And?

Harley: I told them that they suck, that you suck, that everything sucks and they very quickly left me alone

Peter: Meaning I can expect Tony to check in any moment now?

Harley: Probably, yeah

But there was nobody checking in. No message from Tony, nothing from Tasha, Clint or any of the Avengers. Which meant that they probably bought Harley's attitude, thinking that they somehow really messed up. Good, that's what they wanted to achieve.

There was absolutely no reason to feel so weird about it now. No need to feel weird about lying to his super family. No need to feel weird about going that much out of their way to keep their relationship a secret.

Why did the Avengers push all this so much? Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone, things were wonderful the way they had been! They all knew Peter well enough to be aware that he didn't really care for being the centre of attention, especially vis-a-vis his romantic life. It had been the same damn thing when he came out as bisexual. All of a sudden the Avengers ran around with rainbow-pins and love is love is love-shirts. They showed up at every pride parade, everything that was even slightly LGBTQIA+ themed, the Avengers got involved. Maybe it was a generational thing that they had to show their support in that intense a degree? Because Ned, MJ, Gwen, all the friends his age were a lot more chill about it.

So damn the Avengers' aggressive support, for forcing Peter to keep the guy he loved a secret. And damn the Avengers for making Peter dread seeing his boyfriend again.

“Heya kiddo”, Tony greeted Peter when he walked into the compound the next day.

“Morning”, he smiled back, dreadfully nervous what Tony was about to talk about.

“So, how you doing?”

“Freaking fantastic”, he deadpanned. “But I assume you already guessed such a thing.”

“Guilty as charged. You can still talk to me, if you want to.”

“Not really”, Peter shrugged. Tony's arm around his shoulder felt just wrong. Yes, he tried to be reassuring and shit, but he was currently here for Peter, for an issue that was non-existent. Because Peter currently lied to his father figure and boss. So much for keeping it professional...

“If that changes, you can always come to me.”

“Thanks”, he forced a smile, “means the world.”

“Anytime, bud. Only question remaining: can you two be civil?”

“Well, we are talking about the guy, who destroyed a statue out of spite”, Harley remarked, coming up behind them.

“Oh for reals? You're taking JJJ's side?”

“I ain't saying that.” In mock-defence, Harley raised his hands. “Just saying that that wasn't exactly civil, was it?”

“Don't worry”, Peter turned to Tony, “we got this handled.”

“Looks like it”, he gulped, probably making a mental note to get them to different departments.

Not just a mental note, as it turned out, but after lunch break, Harley didn't seem to be working in the chemical engineer's department. That was probably a good thing, given that it was becoming increasingly hard to voice all his snide remarks as if he meant them, and not as the flirty banter that it actually was. Fortunately, Harley seemed to feel the same way; Peter prided himself in knowing his boyfriend well enough to recognize the fights to keep the blush and grins down. Yes, them being separated was definitely a good call.

Peter: So, you left me.

Harley: I wouldn't exactly call it leaving, more like being forcibly removed from your general vicinity

Peter: good, it was getting hard to pretend I'm not really into you

Harley: awwww! <3

“Hi Pete!” Hunched over his work, Peter didn't notice Morgan until she stood right by his chair, squealing at him.

“Hey Mo”, he grinned back. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Daddy said you're not really well, so now I want to cheer you up.”

And Peter just melted. “That is so sweet of you! I've got a lot of work to do, though.”

“Can you show me?” There truly was nothing more powerful than Morgan Stark's puppy eyes. How anyone could ever say no to her was a mystery Peter'd probably never solve. “You know, then I can also be an intern.”

“Well, I can't argue with that logic.” While the co-workers he shared an office with were in the lab or on break, there was no reason why Morgan shouldn't be able to join Peter for a while. Besides, even though he wasn't as unwell as everyone thought he was, he could still do with a little distraction. So he motioned for the chair in the corner, and before he knew it, Morgan wheeled it over and sat next to him, looking all expectantly. “Alright, so my big topic is genetics, especially genes that have been changed.”

“You mean like yours?”, Morgan whispered after making sure that nobody was around to hear her.

“For example”, he nodded, “but there are so many reasons why genes are changing and sometimes that's really good, because it helps us to make medicine, but sometimes it's also really bad, because people change things so much that they're no longer what they used to be.”

“You mean like the Green Goblin?”

“Yeah.” Peter hoped to everything that Morgan didn't notice Peter flinching at the memory of his friend becoming his enemy. His friend, that Peter had put behind bars. His life really was fucked up.

“So what are you doing now?”

“All of that”, he gestured at the unholy amount of papers on his desk, “that's all results from tests. And now I get to compare all these numbers and hopefully find a pattern that shows me how certain types of influences change DNA.”

“Wow.” With big eyes she looked over all the data. “That's really a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, I know. But I luckily got FRIDAY, she's helping me out with the math.”

“That's so nice of you, FRI!”, she beamed.

“Thank you, Morgan. I am happy to help in any way I can”, FRI answered.

“Me too”, Morgan made clear. “So can I help you?”

Well, Peter doubted they taught chemical engineering in primary school. Then again... “You actually can. Look here.” He held a piece of paper out to her. “You see some of the numbers FRI found are already marked. Can you read them out to me, so I can put them in the system?”

“You got it!”

Yes, FRIDAY could just automatically put the numbers down, but Peter couldn't say no to Morgan. Besides, Peter was more than happy about the company and that girl just took Peter's mind off his fucked up romantic life. With them working together, the afternoon just flew by and it was definitely more fun than asking FRI to take care of the numbers.

“Mr Parker, since Ms Stark is not yet eighteen, all employment must be signed off by her legal guardians. I don't remember doing that and since Pepper is in LA at the moment, I think she didn't either.”

The two hard-working engineers turned to find Tony leaning against the door-frame.

“Is that bad?”, Morgan asked, looking up at Peter, who just shrugged.

“Means that he won't pay you for your work. And that he could technically sue me for employing a minor. But I don't think he'll do that”, he smiled at Tony, the sweetest and fakest smile he had in him.

“Don't push your luck, Parker”, Tony grumbled. “Just wanted to know how much longer you're gonna work over-time for.” He nodded towards the clock and only now Peter realized the time.

“Well, me and my associate are on such a roll”, he just grinned back, “in our high of productivity we have forgotten the time.”

“And I'm reminding you of it. I assume you're staying here then?”

Peter just nodded.

“Alright then. Finish up, then wash up and get your butts upstairs. Dinner's ready.”

“We'll be right there”, Morgan promised.

“So, I assume her help was a little limited”, Tony remarked, once Morgan was in bed.

“A bit scared to say this to my boss, but redundant's the word I'd use.”

“Figured”, Tony scoffed. “She's so over the moon though for having been engineering genes, I guess, I might be able to play over it and maybe even appreciate it.”

“Appreciate?” Peter grinned over, “might just make it a regular thing then. It's definitely more fun.”

“Again Parker, might not want to push it.” Putting his arm around Peter, Tony looked down. “Slight change of topic, though. You do not have a choice, we're gonna talk this out now, because today was a nightmare.”

Ugh. Right, get the lying-extravaganza going. “What do you want me to say?”

“I just don't get how it could have gone that disastrous. You two hit it off from the day you met, and it's just...”

“And you're just blaming yourself because you pushed all this?” Peter regretted it the moment he said it. Not because it was a risky thing to say, because yes, Tony and the Avengers definitely regretted it. But because there was nothing to regret; all of this was just a fucking farce. “Ok, fine, it started of sucky, because that restaurant you guys sent us to? Who the fuck had the brilliant idea to invite us to a overly fancy restaurant where I'd never ever could eat enough to feel full? I got two burgers on the way home, because I was so damn hungry.”

“Right, that's on Cap”, Tony made clear, “he said he knew this really nice place, perfect for a first date.”

“How the hell does Steve of all people think he's the authority on date-spots?”

“Yeah, we probably shouldn't have let him take care of that”, Tony admitted.

He didn't push any more questions, but Peter felt the look Tony shot him and the almost desperate need to know what went so wrong.

“It was just awkward, because we didn't really know what to talk about. And then... I don't know. Engineering and you guys connect us, but take that away...”

“So what, now you don't like each other any more?”

Peter just shrugged. What the hell was he supposed to answer to that? Of course he liked Harley, he fucking loved him! “I don't know”, he eventually mumbled. “It's just all so weird.”

“You know, me and Pepper were broken up for a while. And it was so weird, because, well, she's the CEO of my company. Happy all of a sudden was her employee, not mine any more. That was so fucked-up, but we got it in the end. And I'm not saying you and Harley need to end up together and married with a wonderful daughter. But it's gonna go back to normal, I promise that.”

“Yeah?”

“Pete, if the mess that is me can get it sorted, then you can too. And now off to bed you go.”

“Yes dad”, he moaned and couldn't help but grin at the eye-roll.

“Just shut up and get out of here”, Tony made clear and, after a good-night-kiss on the forehead, he motioned for the elevator doors.

“Right then, sleep well.” And with a last wave, Peter disappeared in the elevator

Peter: Can you come over?

“As if you'd ever have to ask that”, Harley giggled as he slipped into Peter's room.

“Well, since you apparently don't like me anymore...”

“Shut up”, he rolled his eyes, kneeled on the bed and leaned over for a kiss.

“So, I just talked to Tony”, Peter explained once they broke away.

“Uh, that couldn't have been fun...”

“It really wasn't.” He recapped their talk, before sinking back into the cushions. “This sucks so much. I really don't want to lie to them any more, but this has gone so damn far...”

“I know. We don't need to figure it out tonight though, right?”

“We do not”, Peter agreed, and pulled Harley down into the cushions with him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Now we just get to sleep.” And, with his head resting on Harley's chest, he drifted off into sleep in no time at all.

“PETER!”

“NED!”

Peter could have sworn that as he and Ned ran towards each other for the hug that reunited them after almost three months apart, time went into slow motion. Around them everything blurred away; they were no longer on the street but floating somewhere on cloud nine.

“I missed you so much”, Ned sighed, once they were enveloped in a tight hug.

“I missed you, too! And I'm so happy that you're home for a few days.”

“How come you never hug me like that?”, came Harley's grumbled question from somewhere behind Peter.

“Guess he loves me more than you”, Ned giggled as he let go off Peter.

“I shall neither confirm nor deny these accusations”, Peter made clear, held his now free hand out to Harley though.

“I guess that's alright”, Harley shrugged. “I mean, I did know that before we started dating.”

“That's a good boyfriend.” With a giggle, Peter pressed a kiss on Harley's cheek before turning to Ned again. “So, I'd say we'll go and get a coffee and you catch us up on all the MIT gossip.”

“Sounds good to me. So, first things first, Allison and Matt are officially a thing now”, Ned told as they went on their way.

“We gotta tell Tony, maybe he'll finally back off...”

“Back off what?”

“Tony thinks that I'm still sweet on Ali”, Peter explained with a shrug and an eye-roll.

“Aw, come on, that was like what, a year ago?”

“Tried telling him that... But he's capable of moving on, did try to set the two of us up after all.”

“I still don't get why you're not just telling them you're dating”, Ned shook his head. “I mean, clearly neither is embarrassed by being with the other and none of the Avengers are homophobic, they've made that abundantly clear... So what then?”

In all honesty, Peter wasn't so sure any more. All their fights started to gnaw on him, even though none of them were real. Started to feel real, though. Especially since it became easier and easier for them to slip into that animosity. Thanks to which their relationship felt more and more like a chore.

“We got it handled”, Harley eventually made clear.

Right, Harley seemed to had no such worries. Which in turn made Peter really insecure. Was he just too sensible? Was it all just a game for Harley? It couldn't be though, they were in love after all! They were, weren't they?

As hard as he tried, Peter just couldn't enjoy the day with Ned. His and Harley's relationship just hung over every talk, joke or story. And it sucked, majorly. Ned was his best friends for so many years; they had been through High School, the Vulture, Mysterio... And now Peter's bullshit relationship issues stood in the way of their reunion.

“Alright, Dudes, I'm gonna head out, I promised my Nan to come by for tea time.” What? Ned's gran had died two years ago. And the other one lived in Kentucky. “You can swing by tomorrow though, right?”

“Yeah, I can get it arranged”, Peter rolled his eyes as he went for the hug.

“You need to talk. Now”, Ned whispered his reasoning for leaving them be. “Don't fuck it up.”

“Alright”, Peter nodded. “Love you, dude.”

“Love you, too.”

With plenty of waving, Ned walked away and left Harley and Peter sit in the booth by themselves. Boy, this just had all the makings for a disaster. If that's where it headed, though, Peter was not gonna make a scene in a coffee shop. “What do you say, my place?”

“Sounds good to me”, Harley nodded, and before long they were sitting in the car, driving towards Peter's place. The entire ride was uncomfortably quiet, mostly the radio made any sounds. At least until they arrived in front of Peter's apartment building.

“So, you wanna tell me what's bothering you?”

No need to talk around it, Peter just had to get it out. “We kinda are”, he shrugged.

“That sounds... bad”, Harley gulped, glancing over. “What about us is wrong?”

“I feel like I don't really remember why we're not telling anybody about us.”

“Because the Avengers are a bunch of intense meddlers?”

“Yeah, but... I don't know, all that fighting and shit is getting way too easy but that damn pretending is still way to hard and it fucking sucks.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight: It's easier and harder to pretend at the same time?”

How the fuck could Peter make Harley understand his dilemma? “Well, should it be easy to fight with your boyfriend, when you're supposed to be in love?”

“Wait.” Harley turned to Peter. “Are you not in love with me any more?” Along with all the colour, his face dropped and it broke Peter's heart a little bit.

“Of course I am! Do you still love me?”

“How can you even ask me that?” If he didn't look hurt before, he did now.

“Because of what I've just said! If we love each other, do you really think we should keep this from everybody who is like a family to me? To you? If we do love each other, why do we act like we hate one another?”

“Well, I thought that us loving each other was only something to do with the two of us, not with everybody else”, Harley shot back.

“But us loving each other means us fighting, all the time?”

“Yeah, but we don't mean those fights.”

“Then why is it so damn easy for us to slip into that fucking belligerent shit?”, Peter cried out. Shit, he felt himself getting close to tears as all his emotions bubbled to the surface. “And why the absolute fuck doesn't it seem to bother you?”

It was silent in the car, as Harley worked through Peter's issues. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”, he eventually asked.

“I'm saying that with all that bullshit we're doing, seeing you feels like a fucking chore.” The moment he said it, Peter regretted it. “No wait, that came out so wrong.”

“Oh no, you were perfectly clear”, Harley pressed out between gritted teeth. “And I don't want to overwhelm you with too many duties, Spider-Man, so if you'd please get out of my car right now, you can go and recuperate from me.”

“No, Harley, please, I didn't mean it like...”

“Peter. Get out.” Staring straight out of the window, Harley grabbed the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white.

Without another word, Peter complied. He had barely closed the car door, when Harley drove off. The further Harley drove away, the more the knife stuck inside his chest seemed to turn. Even long after the car vanished in traffic Peter still stood in front of the door, staring in the direction in which the car had disappeared.

Was that it? Did their relationship just end?

As if in trance, Peter walked upstairs into their empty apartment. Right, not even May was here to tell Peter everything was going to be ok and talk him through all these fucking bullshit feelings. He couldn't go to the compound either, since the person he had issues with was living there. And Ned... Well, he had messaged.

Ned: Did you talk it out?

Peter: I think we just broke up

The moment he hit send, Peter switched off his phone. He wasn't gonna deal with this right now, he was just gonna take his mind of things. Because if he didn't, he was going to break down right here and now and bawl his eyes out until judgement day. Maybe there were a few robbers or such out on the prowl today, letting Peter get rid of all these emotions another way.

So, after barely arriving at home, Peter already climbed back out the window, and swung through the streets of Queens.

“SPIDER-MAN!”

Oh fucking hell. JJJ really was the last person Peter wanted to see or hear right now. He turned to face him, but was instead faced with another Spider-Slayer. And here Peter was, thinking his day couldn't go any worse. The bot that looked positively humanoid wore JJJ's face, probably another one of the mind-controlled ones. Sure, it was only a matter of time until he came for revenge for Peter's destruction of the Jameson statue. But did it have to be now?

“Dude, I'm not in the mood. Can we postpone this? How does next week sound to you?”

“I deserve my revenge, and you will face me”, JJJ made clear, and shot a web at Peter, who dodged it just in time.

“Great”, he rolled his eyes, “here we go then.” And the fight began. The Slayer was, once again, non-stick, shot webs, managed to climb every wall Peter did and had some weird gun out front. Peter had not yet figured out what that thing did, but probably wouldn't have to wait too long to find out. Hopefully he wouldn't feel the effects on himself.

“You can run all you want, Spider-Man”, JJJ yelled, “I will get you and finally rid the city of the horror that you are.”

“If we're talking horrors, might I remind you that only one of us has spent millions of dollars to build a killer machine?”

“Oh believe me”, he made clear, shooting a web that just missed Peter, “the public will be so grateful for this service.”

“Well, I do know a few that would disagree”, Peter shrugged, before jumping over another web coming at him and scaled the walls of the nearest skyscraper. Of course the Slayer was right on his heel.

Once on the roof, Peter and JJJ just circled themselves. “Just to make clear, you can't electrocute that, and dropping a statue on this very robot won't do too much either. You can't stick to it, web it, and sure, go ahead and punch until the metal warps, but it's not gonna do the trick.”

Peter didn't doubt it for a second. What kind of metal Smythe built this thing from was almost as hard as vibranium. To destroy this particular slayer, Peter'd need a lot more force. Well, they always could throw themselves off this roof. It would probably kill both, though. And then JJJ would have what he wanted. So focused on how to best throw the robot off a skyscraper without killing himself in the process, he didn't notice that gun-thingy directed right at him. Unfortunately his way of finding out that this particular gun launched a weird yellowy-greenish goo, was by it hitting Peter in the head. Ugh, it was disgusting! It didn't seem to do too much, though. Which couldn't be right, there was probably a lot of bullshit about to happen, but for now, he had more urgent matters to attend to.

“Dude, this is fucking disgusting! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh you'll see, Spider-Man”, JJJ laughed, momentarily a bit distracted and with all the rage Peter had to offer, he threw himself at the robot, leaving both of them falling towards the ground. All the rage about what happened with Harley, all the rage about lying, and all the rage he had towards JJJ and his fucking slaying robots provided more than enough strength to properly beat up on that thing as they pummelled towards their death.

“YOU'LL NEVER BREAK ME!”, he cried and let go; webbing himself to the next best wall and that just in time. The slayer didn't get that chance, with a loud crash it landed on the pavement and burst into a million little pieces. There was no need to go down there and check if it was still functioning; the parts were spread out all over the street. “KAREN, tell an ambulance to get here, I don't think anybody's hurt, but just to make sure.”

Peter pulled himself back up on that rooftop, where he just dropped to the ground. He didn't seem to be too hurt; there were probably a bunch of contusions, but not as bad as the last time he came face to face with a Slayer. Peter was pretty sure his head didn't take a hit. But why was he so dizzy now? And why was it getting so damn hard to breathe? Only when Peter reached up to pull off his mask, he remembered the damn glibber.

“K”, he choked, “what is that?”

“It seems to be a gel made mostly of citrus and mint. Get to the compound right away”, she advised and Peter was not gonna argue that. By the time he got to the compound, Peter had about four more bruises; with the world around him blurring more and more it was quite difficult to manoeuvrer the antennas, walls and lamp posts. Hopefully nobody noticed too much of his embarrassing himself. It took the last bit of strength he had left to pull himself up to the penthouse balcony. He was suffocating, Peter was sure he was gonna be dead by the time he got up there. Oh god, this was how he was gonna die. Killed by a fucking mint? The, thanks to the rising panic, adrenaline was the only thing getting Peter to move these last few steps into the penthouse and, more out of it than anything else, Peter stumbled into the living room.

“Pete?” Looking up, Peter saw Harley stand in front of him.

Peter just pulled off his mask, maybe then he could breath, and at least tell Harley that he was sorry, that they could figure all of this out and that he really loved him. All he however got out was a breathy sigh: “Harley, I...”, before he tumbled to the ground and everything went dark.

“Peter? PETER!”, Harley cried out, as he dropped just in front of him. “TONY, HELP!”

Harley had barely called out, when Tony was already by his side. “Shit.” He all but pushed Harley out of the way and heaved Peter up into his arms. “FRI, check KAREN's log. What happened?”

“He fought a Spider-Slayer”, FRI reported as Tony hurried for the medbay, Harley on his heel. “This particular bot sprayed him with a goo that contains citrus and mint gels.”

“Oh fuck”, Tony hissed and picked up the pace.

“What the hell is going on?” Harley gritted his teeth, hard. It was the only thing to keep him from bawling his eyes out. Fuck, what was it with Peter making him cry today? First they sorta kinda break up and now he's gone ahead and killed himself?

“Spiders do not take kindly to citrus fruit or mint. Ever since the bite, making Peter's DNA part that of a spider, he too has a deathly allergy against these.”

“He's gonna be fine”, Tony shot over, though by now he was basically running. “Who's in?”

“Both Dr Cho and Dr Banner are ready to take care of Peter.”

As they hurried through the corridors, Tony and FRIDAY discussed some more logistics, but Harley couldn't concentrate. Damnit, here Peter was, fighting for his life, not even sure about Harley, about their relationship and about how much Harley loved him. Screw the tears, he wasn't gonna fight it any longer, he just needed to come along and make sure that Peter was gonna be alright, so he could tell him how much he loved him.

Then Tony and Peter disappeared through a door, but he was held back from by Bruce. “Harley, I'm sorry, but me and Helen got this sorted, please just wait for now.” With that also Bruce went into the forbidden room, and moments later Tony came back out.

“I can't stay either”, he shrugged, trying to bite down his tears. “Come on.” With his arm around Harley's shoulder, he all but pushed him to the nearest bench.

“Why didn't he just call you, you'd have gotten him help faster! Or why doesn't he have an epipen?”

“Because of his metabolism. He burns through any kind of medication faster than fire through a barrel of petrol.”

“What happened?” Nat and Clint ran into the waiting room.

“Wow, gossip spreads fast in here”, Tony remarked a lot more deadpan than he currently was. “Allergic reaction, thanks to JJJ.”

“Shit.”

They all dropped into various corners of the waiting room and soon enough the room was chuck full with Avengers.

And it all killed Harley; it felt like he was being torn apart. He couldn't sit still, there had to be something that he could do, just something, anything!

“Harley, kid, it's gonna be ok”, Tony assured him.

“You don't know that!”, he hissed back, not pulling his eyes away from the door separating him from Peter. “You don't know if he'll ever be ok, and the last thing we ever did was fight and break up and I don't... I can't...”

“Break up? Did you two start dating after all?”

“Please”, Harley scoffed, “we've been dating before we've come to New York in the first place.”

“Excuse me, what now?”

Oh for fuck's sake, Harley really had bigger issues right now. “We've been sleeping with each other for months and now drop it, or I'll go into details.” And that shut them up. Being affronting like that probably wasn't a good idea, but Harley couldn't give two fucks about them right now.

Well, now they knew. Might as well now that they were broken up. But Harley didn't want to be broken up with Peter! He was so in love with that guy, it was almost ridiculous. And every time Peter said that he loved Harley, it just did indescribably things to his heart and his soul (if he had one of those). And yes, maybe Peter was right, they got so lost in keeping everything secret that they forgot what their relationship was supposed to be about.

Peter was going to wake up again, he just had to. And then they'd get this sorted and be a couple and really in love again and everything was going to be alright.

The first thing Peter realized was some people talking. It was all very foggy, and the little he could make out did not make a lot of sense. There were probably quite a few people around, judging from the number of voices and the unbearable noise level.

“...Needs sleep... out of his system... swelling is down...” Peter wasn't even sure if it was all the same person talking.

As he came to a little more, he realized his hand being held. Unlike the talking, that was actually really nice. The calloused fingers that stroked his hands definitely were not May's. Maybe Tony? Or Harley?

“Can you please be quiet?” That was definitely Harley's voice and he sounded very pissed off. “You're gonna wake him.” Yeah, Peter was more and more convinced it was Harley's hand that now moved to brush some hair out of his face. Oh, that felt just wonderful.

“Sorry, kid.” That was Tony.

Peter was dying to find out who was in that room, but if he opened his eyes now, which by now felt like a doable possibility, everyone would crowd him, and Peter didn't even remember why they all were here. So, until he was sure what exactly had happened that had put him in what was probably the medbay, he was gonna keep his eyes closed and pretend he was asleep.

There was a lot of talk about lemon and mint and allergic reaction and many not kind words towards JJJ. Piece by piece it started to come back to Peter: him and Harley fighting; going on patrol and fighting the fucking Slayer; the weird goo, the bot doused him with; fighting to make it to the compound; Harley's face falling into pure horror before everything around Peter went dark as even the last bit of air was sucked from his lungs.

“Boss, May Parker is calling”, FRI interrupted the last round of cursing out JJJ.

“Oh shit”, Tony sighed. “Put her through, please.”

Oh no, Peter didn't want to hear that. “Tony, what happened?”

“Hello May”, Bruce answered, “Peter's in the medbay, allergic reaction, but it's alright now. He's asleep and all vital signs are as they should be.”

“How did this happen?” Shit, May sounded really tense, like she was close to tears.

“Spider-Slayer”, Tony admitted.

“ANOTHER? Tony, I can't believe that this keeps on happening over and over and there's nothing you can do about it? How in the hell can you...”

“For fuck's sake”, Harley yelled, “take these damn fights elsewhere, 'cause it's the last thing Peter needs when he wakes up.”

Peter could just swoon, it was incredible how Harley looked out for him.

“Maybe we should just leave you two alone”, Happy suggested.

“Maybe you should”, Harley shot back and Peter didn't want to be on the receiving end of that icy voice.

“FRI, put the call through to my phone”, Tony asked and everybody present walked out and with them the exhausting tension that even Peter felt.

“Ugh”, Harley sighed.

“Tell me about it”, Peter chuckled and glanced through half-open eyes.

“What the...”, Harley startled and all but jumped out of his chair. “How long have you been awake them?”

“Quite a while”, he admitted, fighting to open his eyes, which was quite the challenge, especially since every light in the room seemed to be on full brightness. “Didn't want to deal with all them.”

“I get that. How are you feeling? You need anything?”

“I need to tell you that I love you”, he smiled, “and that I don't want to break up with you.”

“I love you too”, Harley beamed and leaned over to kiss him. “And we're not breaking up, no, definitely not.”

“Good”, Peter sighed once Harley leaned back. “And now please, turn down the lights and any chance I could get a glass of water?”

“You idiot”, Harley groaned, “don't you think you being uncomfortable tops us having a fight?” Of course he complied, not without shaking his head, of course not. After helping Peter to sit up, he handed him a glass of water. “Pretty sure there's a bunch of jell-o somewhere.”

“You really know how to treat a guy”, Peter giggled.

“I know my man”, Harley just shrugged back, before grinning. “I should probably tell you that I might have told all them”, he gestured towards the door, “about us.”

“Oh.” Peter wasn't exactly sure what to do with that.

“Yeah, wasn't exactly planned, I might have been a little stressed with you passing out right in front of me and may have blurted out something along the lines of us having been doing it for months or so”, he admitted as a contrite blush spread over his face.

“This is so you”, Peter giggled, once Harley's confession sunk in. “Well, guess then there's no danger in asking you to come and make yourself comfortable.” He scooted over just enough so Harley could get up on the bed next to Peter. ��But no shoes in my bed.”

“Yes sir”, he grinned and soon enough, they were snuggled on the bed and Peter was safely enveloped in Harley's arms.

“Oh, uhm, by the way, please FRI, could you send a message to Ned, telling him that everything's alright again and that me and Harley are very much in love.”

“Message is sent.”

“Thanks”, Peter smiled and fell back against Harley.

“What was that about?”

“Ned asked if we talked it out, told him that we might have kinda broken up instead and well, you know the rest...”

“Oh. Well, then I'm happy we are very much in love”, he beamed and kissed Peter's cheek.

“Yeah, me too.” Even if he wanted to, Peter could do nothing against the dopey, lovestruck grin.

A soft knock interrupted the dopey eye-making and lovestruck smiles. “Can I come in?”, Tony asked.

“Sure thing”, Peter answered.

“Pete! You're up!”, he exclaimed as he burst inside, stopping immediately dead in his tracks as he saw the two cuddling on the bed. “You weren't kidding about you being...”

“A couple?”

“In love?”

“Yeah, those things...” A lot more careful, Tony walked over and sat himself next to Peter. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I'll live.”

“Good. Your aunt made very clear that she'll first kill you and then me if you were to end up dead.”

“She didn't sound too happy on the phone”, Peter shrugged, before he thought it through.

It was pure exasperation the way Tony's face fell when he realized Peter had been awake a for a longer while than anyone had known. “She is on her way here”, he explained, playing over the other rest.

“Figured. You can tell everybody who's out there that they can come on in, too. Wait, let me guess first: it's Nat, Clint, Happy, Bruce, Steve, Bucky and Wanda.”

“How the absolute fuck do you know that?”, Harley asked in astonishment.

“Fucking spider-hearing”, Tony shook his head. “FRI, tell 'em to come on in.”

Thank the heavens for Harley. Being in his arms seemed to equal wearing full armour with guards all around – everybody kept a shocked and slightly amused distance.

“So, wanna tell us about how all that”, Bucky gestured between Harley and Peter, “came to being?”

As well as he was feeling, the sedatives and shit Bruce pumped through Peter's veins still had him feel foggy enough that he was happy to let Harley handle that. “Well, we met at MIT, I asked Peter out and we've had quite a lot of fun”, he grinned and from the corner of his eyes, Peter just saw Tony shuddering. “Anyways, since we weren't serious or anything, neither seemed to find it too important to shock the other with the family-like relationship we have with Ironman or, in some cases, about some spider-themed enhancements. Imagine our surprise, when invited to Stark dinner, because there's this other intern I just have to meet, and it's my boyfriend. Right, because by then we had made it official. Actually on our drive here to New York”, he added, and Peter couldn't help but smile at their story.

“And why didn't you just say that you two were a couple?”

“Because you guys are seriously exhausting”, Peter threw in. “We had just gotten together, still hadn't figured shit out and that distance just was necessary.”

“And it went great”, Harley continued the story. “Until you guys decided to set us up.”

“Again”, Nat threw in, “perfect opportunity to tell us about all this here.”

“And listen to 'we told you so' for the next fifty years? No thank you.”

“One thing wasn't a lie. Steve, that restaurant was horrible and made this whole thing so uncomfortable...”

“Sorry, kids”, he apologized as he turned beet-red.

“In summary, as you can see, whenever you guys got involved, things kinda went a little mixed up. But we know that lying wasn't the way to go either, so we're really sorry.”

“Don't sweat it”, Wanda smiled and patted Peter's leg, “there are enough spies in this room to get the whole secrecy thing. And we're sorry for pushing something we should have left alone.”

“Worked out pretty nicely in the end, didn't it?” Peter looked up to find Harley grinning down on him.

“Yeah, I'd say so”, he grinned back and stretched just enough for their lips to meet.

“Aw, you're so adorable”, Clint cooed, when Peter broke away, and snuggled himself back against Harley.

“Oh, you got no idea...”

The afternoon went by with plenty of visits, cooing, doting over Peter and more 'how are you's' than he could count, especially once May arrived. Thankfully, he had Harley beside him the entire time.

It was early evening, when the door flew open. “Mummy said I can come visit now!”, Morgan squealed and, without making sure she wouldn't squash Peter or Harley, she climbed on the bed, ending up somewhere on both their laps. “Harley, you can go, I can cuddle him now”, she made clear and expectantly looked at him.

“But I was here first”, he shot back, making no move to leave. He instead held a little tighter onto Peter.

“Yeah, because I wasn't allowed to come!”

“Honey, how about you...”

“No”, she interrupted Peter, “you only get healthy, I'll deal with the rest.”

“Alright then”, he nodded, biting down hard not to do like the assembled Avengers and Aunt May and burst out laughing.

“I love him more than you do”, Harley made clear, and if you had shot Gerald the Alpaca (yes, that was indeed his proper name and Morgan made sure that everybody always addressed him as such) Morgan could not have looked more enraged.

“You don't”, she made clear, “because I love him the most.”

“No, you don't!”

“Yes, I do!”

As Morgan and Harley continued their bickering Peter just turned to Pepper. “Hi.”

“Hey Pete. I can have either of them forcibly removed, if you need them to.”

“You know, as long as they argue about me and not with me, I can deal with it.”

“Right then”, she laughed. “I'm happy for you and Harley though. And, seeing you two like this explains why Tony is sitting upstairs, staring at the wall, repeating “not my innocent little Pete!” over and over again.”

It was true, Tony had kept his distance ever since Peter had woken up and had disappeared quite a while ago.

“He does know I'm no longer sixteen, right?”, Peter rolled his eyes.

“Not so sure”, Pepper admitted. “I think he's gonna learn that lesson one way or another now.”

“It's his fault, though”, Peter made clear, nudging Harley in the side. He was way to occupied to discuss with Morgan who was allowed to cuddle Peter now and barely nudged him back. “He apparently broke the news to everybody by telling them we've been... You know... for the last few months.” Sure, Morgan wasn't paying attention to what Peter was saying, but still. He wasn't going to talk about sex in front of his little sister.

“At least that doesn't leave any room for misunderstandings.”

“Good point”, he grinned.

“Right, this is leading nowhere.” With an exasperated sigh, Harley turned to Peter. “So. Which of us do you love more?”

If he got doused by another ounce of that lemony-glibber-shit, he wouldn't have to deal with this right now... But nobody in here was going to let him shock himself into anaphylaxis again, so he had no choice but to settle this. “I love you both. And, oh! Would you look at that, I've got two arms. One for Harley and one for Morgan. How does that sound?”

“Fine”, they agreed, albeit begrudgingly, and with a very uncomfortable and hurtful process, Morgan climbed over Peter and on his free side. “You still love me more than him, right?”, she whispered into his ear, once comfortably settled.

“Of course, but I can't tell him that. You know what Harley's like when he feels offended.”

“Yeah, he's such a drama queen...”

“He can hear you, you know?”, Harley deadpanned. “And there is a definite reason why Peter loves me more than you, because there's one thing he does with me he cannot do with you.”

What the FUCK? Trying to shoot Harley his best death glare, Peter turned to his boyfriend. He wasn't really going to cite them making out or sleeping together as the reason he was more loved, was he? Not to an eight-year-old!

“Because Peter likes to go on date-nights with me”, he grinned victoriously, and all the anxiety about having to explain his sex-life to a third-grader evaporated, as he sank against Harley's chest. “What did you think I was gonna talk about?”, he murmured into Peter's ear, leaving him unfortunately quite flushed.

“Ew!”, Morgan pulled a face, “date-night is so gross, though!”

“Harley is the one person date-night is really nice with, actually”, Peter shrugged.

“Really? Can I go on date-night with Harley, too then?”

“Nuh-uh-uh”, Peter made clear. “Only I can go on date-night with Harley.”

“That's ok”, Morgan shrugged, “boys are stupid anyways.”

“Believe me, I know”, Harley rolled his eyes.

“Hey!”, Peter moaned, whether at Morgan or Harley, he wasn't quite sure. Probably both of them.

“Sorry”, they answered in unison. “Here, let me make it up to you.” Harley reached for some place next to the bed and fished out a container of jell-o. “You forgive me now?”

“Not so sure...” Critically, Peter inspected the label of this lemon-flavoured jelly, before shoving it in Harley's face. “Didn't really think this one through, did ya?” He didn't even give Harley the chance to react, he put the cup back into Harley's hand, untangled his arm from behind his back and put it around Morgan. “I think you really do love me more.”

“Told you”, she chirped.

“I love you, too”, Harley tried to make it up to Peter.

As much as his entire being lit up at the sound of these fantastic words, he did his all to play it cool. “You did also just try to kill me.”

“That was an honest mistake”, he defended himself.

Morgan and Peter just exchanged a few looks. “Nah, I still love Petey more than you do”, she eventually made clear.

This was so incredible. Only a few years ago, Peter couldn't have imagined the running gag being people fighting over who loved him more! Being literally hunted down by a glorified asshole like JJJ didn't even bother Peter anymore; here wrapped up in Harley and Morgan's arms, there was no safer place on this planet. Safe enough to eventually close his eyes and let sleep take him.

When Peter opened his eyes again, everything around him was dark. It had to be late at night, the moon did shine through the window, illuminating what was quite the adorable scene: On his left was Harley, mouth wide open as he snored and there might even be a bit of drool there. On his other side was Morgan, snuggled and clinging against Peter's side as if she were a spider monkey.

“We tried to get her to bed”, came Tony's voice from the corner, “wouldn't let go though.”

“What the fuck, you can't just scare me like this”, Peter made clear.

“Says the guy who staggered into my house and collapsed in the living room.”

“Fair enough”, he grinned. “So what, making sure nothing fishy's going on when me and Harley share a bed?”

“I wasn't. And until now I wasn't even thinking that”, Tony groaned.

“I'm sorry we didn't tell you.”

“In a weird, fucked-up way I get it. Still gonna take me a while to get used to it.”

“Well, lucky for you, me and Harley are going to be around for another two months, granting more than enough chances for you to witness our adorableness and get used to us.”

“That I fear”, Tony grumbled. “I still can't believe that you're seriously growing up... At least from what Harley mentioned yesterday, I figure I don't need to have the birds and bees talk with you.”

“Pepper might have mentioned something about your crisis about your 'innocent little Pete' growing up... You do realize I'm not sixteen any more, right?”

“Yes, I am painfully aware of that. But I don't need to worry about you sleeping with your boyfriend, I need to worry about you getting better. And no matter how old you are, I'll still tell you when to go to bed, and oh, would you look at that? It's 2am. Sleep now.”

“You need sleep too.”

“I'll sleep as soon as you're sleeping again. So, close your eyes so I can get some sleep.” “Yes, sir”, Peter chuckled and snuggled a little more into his cushions. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, kid.”

#peter parker #spider-man #harley keener #parkner #may parker #happy hogan #morgan stark #tony stark #pepper potts #ned leeds #natasha romanoff #clint barton #wanda maximoff

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